#and he showed me like some photos of the comic and...yeah.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Devil in Disguise

[A/N: Let's just pretend this isn't like two weeks overdue, mmkay?]

🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤

Request: Jethro Gibbs x female reader (possession, brat/brat tamer dynamic)

“Tell me you’re not wearing that right now.”

Pressing your phone closer to one ear and your finger into the other, you say, “What? It’s so loud hear, Jay, I can’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“Hang on.” Snagging a fresh beer from the cooler, you pass your favorite colleague on your way to the balcony and mouth, It’s Jethro, by way of an explanation for your absence for the next few minutes. She nods in understanding before throwing you an exaggerated wink, and you indulge in a smile back. “Okay,” you breathe once out in the fresh air. Music is still pumping from inside the building, but it’s at a much more reasonable level with the door closed behind you. “What’s up, baby?”

“What’s up? What’s up?”

“Mhm,” you respond easily, masking your delighted giggle with a pull from your beer.

“I found your little… gift,” he grumbles. “That’s what’s up.”

“You like it?”

He peruses the Polaroids spread out across the coffee table featuring you in a “Halloween costume” -that, to him, looks better suited for roleplay in the bedroom- in various suggestive positions. You had been kind enough to sneak the stack into Jethro’s current nightly read so that the photos would fall out as he settled into the couch to pass the time before you returned home.

“What do you think, brat?” he growls lightly, pulling one photo of you kneeling before the mirror in your bedroom closer to admire the way your lacy red lingerie peeks out from beneath your white skirt.

You hum in mock contemplation on the other end of the line before settling on, “Sounds like you like ‘em a lot.”

“I want to take you over my lap for wearing it out of the house without me there to ward off any straying eyes. And then I want to rip it off with my teeth.”

You inhale a sharp breath, then produce a dumbfounded albeit excited, “Oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh. When are you coming home?”

“A few hours?” you guess. “I didn’t expect your case to wrap up tonight.”

He grunts by way of a response, ever the poet. Then, “Are you having fun at least?”

An idea pops into your head, and you grin to yourself. “Not as much fun as I could be having, but yes. I’ll see you at home, okay? Love you, handsome.”

“Call me when you’re ready for me to come get you,” he says, one of his many versions of I love you. “See you later, honey.”

After catching up with your coworkers and downing some more liquid courage, you sneak off to the nearest bathroom, securely closing and locking the door behind you. You hike your leg up on the counter to show off your lacy underwear and tug your top down enough to free your tits from the confines of your push-up bra before snapping a picture with an angelic smile to complement your all-white outfit and wings. 

You type out, If only I had a strong, sturdy gunnery sergeant to teach me a lesson about respecting my elders… and send your text off with a sly grin before righting yourself and returning to the party.

You can’t help checking your phone and watching the minutes tick by without a response, wondering if your old man is upset with your bratty teasing- or if he even managed to open the attachment on his ancient device.

When you look up from checking your phone for the twelfth time in as many minutes, you find your friend’s eyes widening comically as she quietly announces, “Boyfriend at six o’clock and he does not look happy.”

Before you can even process her words, you find yourself hoisted into the air, your angel wings flapping in protest as you settle over Jethro’s solid shoulder. “Took you long enough,” you huff with faux indignance. Even without looking, he knows your lips are turned downward in a pout and your arms are crossed.

“Yeah?” he rumbles out, waiting until you’ve exited the building and are away from prying eyes to land a firm smack to your ass. You let out a yelp and he asks, “This what you wanted?”

“Pretty much,” you admit, shooting him a cheeky grin when he lays you down across the backseat of his truck before climbing in between your spread legs.

Jethro shakes his head with a laugh, plucking a stray feather from your fake wings off his shoulder. Then he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, and you can’t help but moan and buck up against him in response. “Need you,” you whine, using the collar of his polo shirt as leverage to pull him closer.

“I know,” he soothes quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth while his fingers hook into your panties to tug them down your legs. His eyes grow a shade darker when you squirm beneath him with a whimper, the dim overhead car light reflecting in the wetness coating your upper thighs. “But first I need to teach my little angel a lesson about respecting her elders.”

#kinktober #sf2 takes on kinktober #kinktober 2023 #i'm so sorry this took so long #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x female reader #leroy jethro gibbs x you #leroy jethro gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs x female reader #jethro gibbs x you #jethro gibbs x y/n #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

[cookiepie111]

Bite me. Love me

König x black reader

A/N-He's weird a walking red flag but the red flags are hazy almost like they're not there? Like a marage. His red flags are something you quite can't put a finger on at first until you realise it's everything it's the sum of all he's doing. A good boyfriend but a bit strange Idk he's sort of a you gotta get uncomfortable before you get comfortable

For me könig a bit of a strange man a man. He kinda understands social cues, but sometimes gets them a bit wrong. he slightly pushes your boutons and boundaries to see what he can get away with and how he can squeeze you

It's kinda like he has you in his teeth but he's not actually biting down, just grinding and rolling you in-between his teeth, he likes it and you're 'safe' that way, he wouldn't actually hurt you

Listen, sorry for all that yapping, but you needed to hear it. Anyway, a longer/second part to könig failed flirting attempt.Please like, reblog, and comment. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

You lost a bag that's cool, that's fine, although wouldn't call it lost, stolen more like given? Bag was practically thrown it into the robbers' hands. self-preservation above all else.

You couldn't focus on a single thing. Thoughts and worries tangle in your head as you recall the past events in your kitchen. You survive all that time back home, not getting robbed, only for your black ass to be robbed in a cafe in Austria!

'Come to Austria they said it'll be fun they said!'

ID, cards, money, everything in that bag gone. Thrown to the hands of a strange man. Why you. You'd have to go to the police, file a report, call the bank, and freeze your cards. "Aghhh!" All you could do was drop the floor and cry.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the worst pick-up fail könig had, so he can at least find comfort in that. can't get any lower than rock bottom...

The purse in his hands looked comical small, maybe its him, his hands that are making it look so small. you couldn't keep all your things in here? maybe it's a trend for women to carry purses the size of apples, putting fashion over function. Not something that könig would do.

Those who saw the whole ordeal go down, now eye him with suspicion, wondering what his next move will be, gripping their own items closer. He can only laugh to himself if he wanted he'd have no problem taking their stuff away. But it's better to leave so he can find you.

Walking out, he takes the time to look through your bag. cards, ID, cash, so manu important things, and you just handed them over to him. Playing with the ID card in his hands, mulling over your features. you had such a pretty name, such a serious face you were making in your photo too, not at all like the frightened look you had before.

It's more than enough to track you down he still didn't get the chance to ask you out. He couldn't bring it back empty-handed. Maybe a new purse would do.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The kitchen floor provides a surprising amount of comfort in these moments. 5 panic attacks down, and you're only down starting to cry. The knock on the door is either about to be a blessing or curse. Maybe the police finally came, or a good samartain got your purse back.

There wouldn't be any blessing today. The other side of the door only showed your assailant. If the panic attacks weren't enough to send you over the edge, spiralling, seeing this man at your door certainly was. taking your purse wasn't enough, like some sick grim reaper he's come for your life.

Playing dead is an option, right? You'd have to be stupid to think you could outrun this man. Yeah, laying down for a quick kill would be best-

" I brought you a gift, to apologise"

A gift?

You kept your eyes on bag half because you couldn't believe him and also you were too scared to look him in the eyes.

"It seems I scared you back at the cafe, I only wanted to ask you out" he holds out a bag in front of you.

Ha. It was a mistake. A simple misunderstanding. You'd spent the better half of today crying on the floor because of some big man's poor flirting skills. You wanted to cry again.

Might as well take the bag. What's one more mistake or bad choice today. All your items are there, and you suddenly feel relife, tears welling in eyes as your knees buckle. Your purse, cards, sweets, the second half of the book you're reading? Wait, some of this isn't yours.... was he using your bag to hold his stuff?? You stare back at him, waiting for an answer.

" they're yours a gift to apologize"

"Oh"

Maybe it's all in your head. You're just on edge in a new place. You feel like you can finally relax. The tension knotted in your shoulders slowly unravels. You feel silly and like a wet dog

" I'm sorry about that. Thank you for bringing it back,"

"A date"

What. You see him now only closer than before threatening to enter the boundaries of your home.

" Let me take you out for a drink to apologise." It's such an intense stare he has, focused souly on you. It makes you uncomfortable, stepping back slightly to put some space between you, a bad idea, as he matched your pace stepping forward, foot now fully in your house. You started in disbelief. There's no way this man just stepped in your house, muddy shoes and all. For the last time today, you look back at him, annoyed. An surprise for könig but not an unwelcome one.

"I don't drink"

"coffee"

"No"

"Tea"

"Hmm "

he squints and pauses at that answer

'"a cafe"

"Leave please"

"I'll pick you up on Thursday"

He's barley out the door before you shut it on him, locking the door and pulling the chain

she didn't say no right away. That means he still got a chance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It's Thursday afternoon and once again you're sat in the kitchen panicking as your feet tap along with the rhythm of the clock.

The whole morning was spent worrying out your mind. It's a miracle your heart hasn't given out yet. Maybe he was just messing you, and now you've spent the whole morning worrying for nothing. more time passed, and your worry turned to annoyance. You did your whole makeup for this, and he didn't show.

You jump up at the sound of the door, rushing to open it. You pause. Taking a moment to collect yourself before before opening the door.

He looks better than before, still donning that scary balaclava, but in more casual clothes and flowers in hand. He's too forward with his actions, pushing the bouquet in your hands before he even spoke.

It's awkward. He doesn't say much(because that worked so well the first time), and neither do you. This silent walk is too painful to bear.

At least you can say he's a gentleman (sort of). The date was paid in full, and he got a gift. You've learned a few things about könig now. His jokes are cheesy, but they did make you laugh. He resides in an upscale apartment that's too big for him (his words)outside of the city centre. Currently on break from the army (a potential red flag that'll lingered in your thoughts), he's got a big appetite and love for strong drinks.

This afternoon hadn't been all that unpleasant. You quite like the man, you find some strange comfort and safety in him. It's even nice when he pulls you close to him, resting a hand on your hip.

"Haha, are you happy to see me, or is that a knife in your pocket?"

"Knife."

"Hah-" and He pulled out a blade.

...

Oh. Now we're back to weird again.

Why couldn't he just be normal!? It's too casual the tricks he's doing with the knife. How were you supposed to pretend this was normal

You try your best to smile, to not turn and flee scream but your lips tremble. You're really wishing he did have a boner instead. You're not sure what to say or what annoys you more how casual he is, not a single worry on his face.

This is exactly why you shouldn't go out with strange men who randomly appear at your doorstep. At the very least, he's a strong contender for the "Most Heart Attacks Caused by a Man" award.

König wasn't stupid he could sense your worry as you tried to hide behind a lopsided smile. Watching your eyes shift between him and blade, waiting for his next move. You're cute. He'll have fun messing with you.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You couldn't be happier to be home. You survived! You'd never have to see that nasty man again!

*beep*

It doesn't matter how long you stare at your phone in confusion and annoyance. The message on your phone is clear

......

Where did this man even get your number!? He's known for a 2 whole day's, there's no chance he knows anyone close to you.

You're never going to be free of this man

#könig x black reader #könig x reader #cod x black reader #call of duty x black reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #black reader insert #x black reader #könig imagine #my writing #konig x reader #konig call of duty #black reader #black writers #black writblr

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

inspired by @alastcrs's chaggie comic, a sequel of sorts XD

Vaggie: "Sweetie, tell me you didn't give Sir Pentious dating advice."

Charlie: "No? I didn't?"

Vaggie: "Then babe what did you do?"

Charlie: "I just showed you off a little~"

Vaggie: (groaning) "The picture thing? The, have you seen my girlfriend joke? Again?"

Charlie: "Yep! Why?"

Vaggie: "We have to go save Pentious from Cherri Bomb."

Charlie: "Why would we need to- oh no. Oh, noooo-"

Vaggie: "Oh fucking yes."

-elsewhere and in danger-

Sir Pentious: (at random sinner) "Have you sssseen Miss Cherri Bomb~? Ssshe-"

Cherri Bomb: "DUDE WHATE THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?"

Sir Pentious: "-ah, I am, apprecsssiating you-?"

Cherri Bomb: "BY HELPING THE BOUNTRY HUNTERS FIND ME???"

Sir Pentious: "What- no! No I only, I wassss merely-"

Cherri Bomb: "THAT'S MY WANTED POSTER, DICK HEAD!"

Sir Pentious: "Well. Ah. Yesss."

Cherri Bomb: "GIVE IT HERE SO I CAN BURN IT"

Sir Pentious: (clutching wanted poster to chest) "Pleassse Cherri, noooo! It issssss, the only quality photo of you that I possessss-!"

Cherri Bomb: "Then just ASK me for another one like a normal person! Or stalk me like a normal creep! ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T END WITH WITH ME STUFFED AND MOUNTED ON SOME OVERLORD'S FUCKING WALL!!! Like, fuck- do you KNOW how much important shit I've blown up???"

Sir Pentious: "Oh yessss! You are very accomplissshed!" (beaming) "The weaponsss casssche last from year was essspecssially beautiful! All thossse, ssssecondary explosionssss...~"

Cherri Bomb: "YOU'RE gonna be a secondary explosion if you don't hand that poster over Right Now."

Sir Pentious: "Erm, before I do ssso... might I humbly requessst a replasscement photo of-"

Cherri Bomb: "No." (lights fuse) "Let go or go sky high with it."

Sir Pentious: "AH-!"

Charlie: (running) "Pen!" (skids to stop and grabs vaggie) "Holy shit that's a bomb- PEN JUST LET IT GO!!!"

Vaggie: "Pentious drop and take cover! It's not worth it!"

Sir Pentious: "But- sssshe ISSS worth-"

Cherri Bomb: "Bye bitch." (tosses bomb) (Runs)

Sir Pentious: "Ah, ssh-"

KABLOOMY

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "......"

Vaggie: "...we're gonna add self-worth sessions and healthy relationship boundary workshops to the hotel activities list, yeah?"

Charlie: "Oh yes. Definitely."

(splat) (splatter) (Splotch)

Charlie: "After, um, after Pen's collected himself a bit."

Vaggie: "Yeah... Maybe hold back on the 'i love my girlfriend' jokes around him too?"

Charlie: "....I'll." (pained grimace) "Try."

Vaggie: "All I ask, babe." (smooches her cheek) "C'mon. Let's gather up our snake man and head home."

Charlie: (sighs) "It would've worked if he'd just had a better picture-"

Vaggie: "Charlie."

Charlie: "They're cute together! He's all over her- it's adorable!"

Vaggie: "He's all over the street right now."

Charlie: "She used one of her better bombs on him this time." (picks up an arm and part of pentious's tail) "That has to mean something, right??"

Vaggie: "More work for us."

Charlie: "Hmm~ I bet you they kiss before the next extermination~"

Vaggie: "Sweetie." (grabs other arm and the torso) "If they kiss before one of them DIES I'll count it as your win."

Charlie: "No other time limit?"

Vaggie: "None."

Charlie: "And the prize if I win...?"

Vaggie: "Extra kisses. And I'll join your Cherri x Pentious group chat."

Charlie: "DEAL!"

Vaggie & Charlie: (shake pentious's hands over it)

-one kiss and death later-

>user (SpearOfSappho) has joined group BOMBSIRWAY FOREVR!!!

SpearOfSappho: hey

cute'n'cuddlycapricorn: ;-;

SpearOfSappho: charlie im so sorry

SpearOfSappho: would the extra kisses help?

cute'n'cuddlycapricorn: ! THEY KISSED AND NO ONE EVEN TOOK ANY PICS OF IT!!!!

SpearOfSappho: oh

cute'n'cuddlycapricorn: ANGEL x DEMON EMEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS SLOW BURN STAR CROSSED ROMANCE 100k LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!!!!!!!

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #cherrisnake #charlie morningstar #vaggie #sir pentious #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly headcanons #pentious tries his best to imitate the local long-term girlfriends #charlie is a feral shipper #vaggie is a realist not a romantic #cherri is “allergic to sincerity” buddies with angel dust #except she also has Bombs #and not enough bartender therapy time #Yet #(no im not saying charlie has a capricorn personality- she's got goat hooves and horns and uses a TRIDENT) #(thats it thats the pun) #sea goat #shipper #u get it

[charlosvibesonly]

Racing Hearts - Part 3

Pairing : Max Verstappen x fem! reader/ driver

max and y/n are only growing closer. they like each other. but would that be enough?

Part 1 | Part 2

it's a little long this time, i got carried away ;) your comments and support mean a lot, they motivate me to keep writing :)

Max and your unprecedented range of events were further heightened by the media. Everyone talked about you two. This wasn’t rivalry or friendship. This was something the world of Formula 1 had never witnessed before.

Instead of shying away from the media frenzy, you decided to face it head-on, braving a whirlwind of interviews, appearances, and photo shoots. 

As the interviews rolled on, the playful banter between you and Max took on a life of its own, stealing the show every time. One moment that had everyone in stitches was when an interviewer asked about your daily routine. With a sly grin, you shot Max a mischievous look before answering, "Well, it usually starts with me crushing Max at some virtual racing on our gaming consoles. He's got nothing on me when it comes to video games." 

Max playfully rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. I let you win, it's called being a gentleman." 

You couldn't help but laugh, "A gentleman who can't handle losing, more like it." 

From there, the conversation took off, touching on everything from your favorite travel destinations to your go-to karaoke songs. When Max couldn't resist teasing you about your high notes, you fired back, "Oh, please. You're just jealous that I can hit those notes better than you hit the apex." 

The interviews may have been hectic, but with Max by your side, you were having the time of your life. Laughter became a constant companion, with inside jokes forming during every appearance. Fans started to notice the chemistry that went beyond mere rivalry.

The whirlwind continued with a series of photoshoots, where the chemistry between you and Max translated effortlessly onto film.

A photoshoot in progress, capturing moments frozen in time. You and Max couldn’t help but turn it into a playground of laughter. The photographer took a break, and Max seized the opportunity to unleash his mischievous side. As soon as the lens turned away, he pulled faces that ranged from exaggerated expressions of surprise to comically pouting lips. Your attempts to keep a straight face fail miserably, and you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Max, seriously, can you tone it down for a moment?" you plead through giggles.

He feigns innocence, "What? I'm just adding a touch of drama."

The photographer returns, oblivious to Max's brief stint as a comedic actor. However, you can't hold back your laughter, and the moment is captured on film - a snapshot of the behind-the-scenes hilarity.

As you both reviewed the photos later, there was a shared sense of satisfaction – not just from the stunning images but from the genuine joy that radiated through each frame. The glossy images weren't just snapshots of professional racers; they were windows into something that had blossomed amidst the high-stakes world of Formula 1.

The marketing machine wasn't satisfied with just interviews and photoshoots; soon, Red Bull Racing suggested a joint podcast to delve even deeper into the personalities of their star drivers. 

Max grinned, savoring the opportunity to steer the conversation toward more personal territories. "Alright, Y/N, let's make it interesting. If you could relive any moment of your life, what would it be?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unexpected turn. "That's a tough one. Maybe a childhood memory. You know, the carefree days before racing became my entire world. How about you, Max?"

He leaned back, adopting a thoughtful expression. "I'd probably go back to my first race win. The rush of emotions, the taste of victory."

It was your turn now, “Any race that is your favorite?”

"Remember that one race in Monaco?" he mused, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned, "Oh, how could I forget? It's not every day you get kissed in front of the entire world."

Max leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, "And yet, here we are, still making headlines."

As the race weekends unfolded, the media attention showed no signs of waning. Every shared podium appearance, every victorious celebration, and even the occasional post-race kiss fueled the narrative further.

“We had my shoey. And now Max and Y/N’s kisses seem to be a new tradition. You know I’m all up for it. If I’m on the podium, I’ll be kissing Max too.” Daniel said playfully in an interview.

During a particularly tense race at Spa-Francorchamps, you and Max found yourselves wheel-to-wheel in a fierce battle for the lead. The high-speed duel captivated fans, but what happened after the race added an unexpected twist to the tale.

In the cool-down room, Max approached you, a genuine smile on his face. "You pushed me out there. Good race."

You grinned, "Likewise. But what was with that risky move at Eau Rouge? You almost sent me off the track."

He chuckled, "Gotta keep you on your toes. Can't let things get too predictable."

Needless to say, your cheeks turned red fast.

Amidst the chaos of media attention, race weekends, and public scrutiny, you and Max found a moment of respite in the city where it all began – Monaco. 

The evening started at Max's house, a chic and cozy penthouse overlooking the harbor. Soft jazz music played in the background. The scent of a delicious homemade meal wafted through the air, as you and Max stood side by side in the well-equipped kitchen, aprons on, ready to embark on a culinary adventure.

"I hope you're prepared for a taste of my secret recipe," Max teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed you a chopping board.

"Secret recipe? Should I be worried?" you replied with a playful smirk, taking the chopping board from him.

"Okay, maybe 'secret recipe' was a bit of an exaggeration," Max admitted, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. "But I promise, it'll be the best pasta you've ever had."

The aroma of the simmering sauce filled the air, blending with the smooth jazz playing in the background. 

While chopping vegetables and stirring pots, Max stole a playful glance at you. "You know, Y/N, I've never had this much fun in the kitchen before."

You smiled, with a playful glint in your eyes.

As the final touches were added to the meal, you and Max set the table, the anticipation building for the culinary masterpiece you had created together. 

After dinner, you sat on the balcony. The night was beautiful and calm. 

As a gentle breeze rustled, Max reached for your hand, his touch conveying a silent assurance that, at this moment, it was just the two of you against the world.

"You know," Max said with a soft smile, "I never thought cooking together could be this much fun."

"Surprising, isn't it? Maybe we've discovered a hidden talent for culinary collaboration," you replied, intertwining your fingers with his.

He chuckled, "Or maybe it's just the company that makes it special."

And then, in a tender yet passionate moment, Max leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. "You know, Y/N," he murmured, "there's something magical about moments like these."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, a gentle flush warming your cheeks. "And to think only a couple of months ago we were hell-bent on tearing each other apart " you teased.

As his lips met yours, the world outside the penthouse faded away.

It wasn’t like those kisses you had before. They were fueled by adrenaline. But here it was just pure calm, and genuine happiness to be with each other.

But a storm was brewing quietly. 

Headline: "Max Verstappen's Soft Side: Is Y/N Taking Advantage?"

In recent weeks, Max Verstappen's performance on and off the track has raised eyebrows among fans and pundits alike. The usually fierce and competitive driver seems to have softened, and many speculate that Y/N’'s influence is the cause. As their unexpected relationship unfolds, questions arise about whether she's leveraging their connection for personal gain. With Y/N now on the verge of a potential championship victory, concerns grow that Max's focus on the track may be compromised, jeopardizing his chances at the championship.

Max sat alone in his dark room, his anxious eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he scrolled through the endless stream of news articles. The more he read, the more uncertain he felt, and his mind began to race with worst-case scenarios. The words on the screen seemed to taunt him with their tone, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by doubt and fear. 

Suddenly, his phone rang, shattering the eerie silence of the room. He saw that it was you calling, and his heart raced with anticipation. Should he answer? The temptation was too great to resist, but he couldn't bear the thought of what might come next, so he hit the reject button.

His doubts had won. 

It was race day.

“Max is back! Oh Y/N would not have liked that. Hurts being taken out from the race by your own boyfriend.”

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo

[sofiareidings]

The Scenic Route

This story was based off of this photo:

Summary: You and your coworker finally admit your feelings for each other. But your first date doesn't really go as planned.

A/N: I'm not as obsessed with this stories as my others so I apologise if it isn't great. I really didn't have a lot of motivation today and my sister is back in the hospital aswell so we were really busy.

Song Suggestions: La Vie En Rose - Emily Watts

Word Count: 0.8k

The others on the team found it almost comical how oblivious the two of you had been. You both liked each other but didn’t know. Penelope and Emily had been telling you that he definitely liked you. When you didn’t listen Penelope went out of her way to show you the clues through a PowerPoint.

Derek and JJ had been doing the same thing to Spencer. When he finally believed them he spent two weeks planning how to ask you out. Exactly what he needed to do…and then it happened.

Everyone else had gone home from the office but you were finishing up on some paperwork. You were focused on your work and didn’t even notice that Spencer was still there. You kept an eye on him and after a while got the suspicion he didn’t have anything he was still doing but just waiting to talk to you. Everything that Penelope and Emily had been saying felt really likely now but you decided you wanted to see how this played out.

It had been twenty minutes since you finished working but you stayed there at your desk to see if he’d make the first move. You weren’t making it too obvious that you were done working, you had your computer turned on and you just scrolled through the internet mindlessly.

After another ten minutes you finally heard him speak up. “Y/N, are you busy or can we talk?” You smiled then nodded, of course you were free to talk. He got up and leaned onto the empty desk across from you. “So, I was wondering, if maybe you would want to uh…”

“Are you asking me out, Reid?” You cut him off because watching him trying to figure out how to ask you was like watching a puppy try to walk for the first time. He was a little shocked by what you said and you felt this excited feeling growing inside you realising that everyone was right. “Because if you are I would say yes Spence.”

Still a little bit in shock by your statement, this really did not go the way he had planned it to. He cleared his throat then tried to be less stunned while he talked. “You would? I mean, yes. I was hoping to ask you to dinner.” He smiled and stood up a little straighter. “I was thinking we could go out tomorrow? After work?”

“Yeah, I think I could make that work.” Shutting down your computer and starting to pack up. You broke out into a small laugh and finally picked up your jacket and keys. “Well, I should probably go home now. See you tomorrow.” Not sure how to say goodbye to someone you just admitted to liking, you started to reach out for a handshake then played it off as a wave.

Let’s just say that dinner the next day did not work.

You ended up having an emergency case and it just didn’t happen. Both of you should have expected it really.

The date got postponed for almost two weeks until it finally happened. The two of you decided on a small Chinese restaurant quite a bit away. Because of this, you also decided to take the train.

The restaurant was a cute little family owned business that was pretty much empty for the whole dinner. The both of you had a great time but even though you both knew how badly you wanted to just kiss each other neither of you had the guts to make a move. The waiter, a teen girl, was clearly trying to play cupid throughout dinner. There was this moment when it was time to get the bill and your hands touched, for maybe a second. You could feel the warmth of his hand and pulled away scared to make another move.

The train back was incredibly delayed and the train was packed. You found two seats right by the entrance to sit in but because of how full the train was you were practically shoulder to shoulder. Once the train started moving you felt Spencer move his arm away and you had a little bit of an internal panic for a second like maybe you did something wrong. That panic was shut down seconds later when you felt his hand laying behind you and hugging you close to him.

The arm around you was comforting and to tell him that without actually saying it you just leaned into him more. The train slowly started becoming less crowded but as each stop came you felt more and more tired.

The date might not have gone as you two had planned but the feeling this moment gave was better than what either of you could’ve expected.

Right before you started to fall asleep his hand disappeared for a second then came back and started running through your hair. You sunk deeper into his chest until you finally fell asleep, just comforted by him.

#criminal minds #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #bau #sofiareidings

[leviathans-watching]

carving pumpkins with the brothers

includes: the brothers & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .6k | rated t | m.list

warnings: mention of and use of a knife to carve a pumpkin

a/n: happy halloween to those who celebrate! enoy some #fall content from yours truly. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come talk to me!!

please reblog (with pics of what you think the brothers pumpkins looked like)

“i’m gonna try to carve your face,” mammon says, and you burst out laughing.

“good luck with that,” satan says drily, bent over his pumpkin, spoon in hand. somehow, unlike asmo beside him, he’s completely spotless, with not a hint of goop on him anywhere.

“yeah,” belphie adds, “because your art skills can actually make that happen.”

mammon pouts, waving a handful of pumpkin guts through the air threateningly. “you guys are so mean to me! i could do it.”

“yeah, right,” levi chimes in. he’s got his brow furrowed in concentration as he outlines the shape he wants to cut out in marker, checking his reference picture every so often to make sure he’s on track. it doesn’t escape your attention that his reference photo, is in fact, a ruri-chan chibi.

“hey, beel, put that down!” belphie slaps beel’s hand just before he puts a seed into his mouth. “mc said we’ve gotta cook them first.”

“we do,” you confirm. “beel, i promise the wait will be worth it.”

he sighs, but nods. “fine. but i’m so hungry.”

“you’ll survive,” lucifer tells him, showing no mercy. he’s got his sleeves rolled up and is elbow-deep in the pumpkin, apparently haven given up on using a scoop. it’s nice to see him let go a little bit, and you’re not going to lie, the faces he’s been making at the texture deserve to be memorialised.

“okay, i think i’m ready to carve,” you say to no one in particular, and in an instant, several different carving tools are being held out. you choose one of the kitchen knives, not trusting yourself to manage anything fancier. you’ve gone for a very classic jack-o-lantern and only hope you can do it justice. carving neatly has never been your strong suit.

but isn’t that part of the fun? getting messy and goopy and having everything look a little bit wonky? you certainly think so.

“be careful not to cut yourself,” mammon warns, and you flash him a grin.

“thanks, i will.”

carefully beginning with the eyes, you begin to cut out your face.

“i’m done,” beel announces, and you look over to see his pumpkin. it’s one of the largest ones you could find and what he’s done with it is comical. a small, friendly face sits directly in the middle, disproportionately sized to the rest.

“i like it,” you say, fighting a laugh. “if you want to begin sorting the seeds from the goop, then we can cook them faster.”

beel nods, seriously and begins to do what you say. you finish up your carving in the next few minutes, proudly setting it aside.

“whoa, mc, that looks really good,” asmo cheers, and you lean over to wipe a bit of pumpkin guts off of his cheek. how he’s gotten so messy within is completely beyond you, but hey, at least he looks like he’s having a good time. “do you think you can help me with mine?”

“no way,” levi says. “we all have to do our own!”

“ugh, fine.”

“lucifer, how is yours going?” you ask, peering at his pumpkin. he’s got a pen in his hands now and seems to be considering what kind of face.

“good, except i can’t think of what to draw,” he replies, and you spread your arms.

“but there are so many options!”

“and that’s the problem. i work better when there are fewer choices.”

“maybe look up some inspo pics?” you offer helpfully, and he nods, pulling out his d.d.d.

“mammon, let’s see yours,” satan says gleefully, and mammon jumps, covering it with his arms.

“no way! it’s not ready!”

“but you’ve been drawing forever!”

“mc’s face is kinda hard, okay?” he defends, still not letting anyone see.

“that means you screwed up,” belphie intones, and mammon flushes.

“nuh-uh!” he pauses. “but um, on a totally unrelated note, are there any extra pumpkins?”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

#obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #mammon obey me #mammon x reader #levi obey me #levi x reader #satan obey me #satan x reader #asmo obey me #asmo x reader #beel obey me #beel x reader #belphie obey me #belphie x you #leviswriting #leviswriting-obeyme #obey me cute #obey me ficlet #obey me fluff #obey me funny

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized 4/9 If You Have Ghosts

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

She was just "S" on his phone.

It was a stupid thing to do, but she checked.

He had left his phone casually on the table, and it was such a sign of trust that she was shocked. Not that she could hack into it even if she wanted to – which she did not – but because she could see if someone sent him a text, or called…

At first, she hadn't meant to: what she meant was to dig up a particular photo and show it to him when he came back in from the smoke he was having. An old picture where she was a teen and looked like a little monster with a growth spurt and braces and a Nirvana shirt. But something in her brain told her to send it to his phone with the accompanying words That's a school girl for you and then go check the notification that appeared on the screen.

And she took advantage of that trust in the spur of the moment, like a jealous little idiot.

"What are you doing?"

And another thing that always escaped her was how Simon could be silent if he so wished. A guy of his size should've made more of a ruckus when he came in, but he seemed to defy the laws of physics as he stepped into her living room, quiet as a spectre.

"Um..."

The scene looked exactly as shameful as it was. She stepped back when he went to his phone, picked it up…

"Right… Busted." He was looking at the notification of her text like it was a message from some other girl he didn't want her to know about.

And she was the one who was busted here. The whole situation had left her red as a beet and humiliated to the very core. Everything was going so well, and she had to just shit all over it.

"You have trust issues?"

"I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for. I…" She spread her hands and sighed. "I have no excuse."

"I asked if you have trust issues." He didn’t look or sound angry. Only methodical.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"Why were you looking at it?"

Ok, he wasn't about to leave her. Instead, he wanted to talk it out like adults. It made her a little too relaxed.

"To see what kind of lock screen picture you have?"

He stared at her with a look that said You didn't pass this test. But then, a warmth settled in his eyes, the kind of soft glint he had when he was amused with something — amused with her.

"I think I know why."

His patience was soothing. It wouldn't hurt to ask directly instead of tiptoeing around the subject and making a fool of herself.

"Yeah. I would just… very much like to know if you have this kind of thing going on with other people."

"No. Do you?"

"No."

Another small smile. The warmth in his eyes had turned into a solid glow. Perhaps it was a test, after all: Simon didn't casually do anything, least of all leave his phone unattended like this.

"Simon… Why do you want to be with me?"

"'Cause you're a Bond girl."

It made her laugh, but on the inside, she was shedding tears.

"I'm not a Bond girl, Simon. I'm a student with a lot of debt."

"I could help you with that, you know."

She was so taken aback by his suggestion that she couldn't speak for a moment. Simon wasn’t joking: he had tilted his head slightly and waited for her to accept his offer.

They hadn't even had The Talk yet, and he was ready to support her financially. It made her delighted and suspicious; was she stepping into an affectionate relationship or a transactional bond if she accepted? The last time he had offered her money ended in her slapping him.

"You want to be my sugar daddy now?"

"I'm serious. You could focus on your studies."

It appeared they were approaching the centre of his issues as well, and she sighed.

"Does it bother you that I work there?"

He didn't betray any emotion, as was probably to be expected from a man who worked in covert operations.

"Does it bother you that I shoot people?"

She, on the other hand, found herself blinking again from Simon’s flat way of describing the nature of his work. To be honest, she hadn't given it much thought. Deliberately, because she had wanted to enjoy him to the full and see where this one would go. It was no use getting upset about something that possibly wouldn't even be a part of her life.

But here he was again, in her living room, after a good round of morning sex, smelling of tobacco and about to finally take her out. She was missing classes because of him, had even lied to him that she didn't have any today — not knowing whether he could tell she was lying and keeping it to himself so he could take her out.

Her answer proved to be quite simple, even if a bit naive.

"No, if they're the bad guys."

His face lit up with a sly smirk, and his words were smooth, gilded gravel this time.

"They are. I'm practically saving the world."

She rolled her eyes at that. Overconfident, cheeky bastard… She would soon catch actual fucking feelings, catch more than just an infatuation for this man.

"I'm sure the whole world would descend into darkness without you," she said dryly, and he laughed, this time in a perfectly spontaneous way. The tight grip on her heart only tightened more.

"Simon, seriously speaking, does it bother you?"

His face slowly straightened again, but he wouldn't give her an answer. She would never have thought that it actually might upset him — after all, he was the one who had visited such a place. He had come there to see her grind night after night.

"I like dancing. It's a good workout."

"As long as the only thing you work out is that pole." It was uttered slightly under his breath, and she tried her everything to hide a confused little grin.

Was he…

Could it be that Simon "I kill people" Riley was not only jealous but possessive?

Of her?

Wow.

---

He didn't take her to a fancy restaurant but to a museum that had Albrecht Dürer's engravings and woodcut prints on display.

"You really did your homework," she commented on his choice. How the hell did he know that she was interested precisely in this kind of stuff? The rich symbolism of Renaissance humanism and the overly gothic Northern period?

"Again, not rocket science."

He had probably seen that the book he had glanced through wasn't a loan but her own. Noticed the hearty amount of notes she had scribbled on the pages... Of course. Not rocket science, but still pretty impressive, especially when the exhibition was on show only for a month. She was studying this stuff, and she hadn't even noticed.

He asked her to give him a tour and curate the display. She laughed and told him that was not exactly what curators did but proceeded to tell him as much about the works as she could.

"I have a soft spot for this one. She's like an angel fallen from heaven. Brooding, because the stairway to heaven is right there, but she can't ascend."

They had stopped to study the print Melencolia I, and she feared that she was boring Simon to death — along with feeling lame for trying to impress him with knowledge that was yesterday's news. But it turned out he had never even seen the engraving that was in her world, one of the most iconic pieces of art history. He even got curious about the heavy symbolism embedded in the work; he asked about the sleeping dog, the hourglass, and the wings on the melancholy figure.

"That's a woman?"

"Yeah. I mean… That's the usual interpretation."

The fact that he hadn't seen it from the start made her smile. Or perhaps it was the notion that Simon seemed genuinely interested in the display and her knowledge on this type of art.

"They used to think that depression was a pathological condition caused by black bile and blamed it on the planet Saturn.”

The smug look on his face told her that the conversation was about to get interesting.

"What causes being pissed off all the time?"

She would never have guessed that Simon had anger management issues. He was always so cool and controlled.

"Anger is associated with being choleric. Too much heat in the body."

"I'm too hot?"

Way too hot.

"According to the Renaissance people, yeah."

He turned to look at her, and she could feel the tingles in the air between them.

"And which planet is to blame for being too beautiful?"

"That would…. probably be considered a gift from Venus, the Roman goddess of- "

He pulled her into a kiss, and she was soaring to the sun again. How a man surrounded by such heavy darkness, who concealed his face with human bones, could hold an entire sun within him was a mystery, even more compelling than the enigmas of the Renaissance. She imagined the man with all that death draped over him and concluded that Simon was the most enthralling piece of art she had ever seen.

He broke the kiss but didn’t let her go, and she finally felt like he was someone she could trust, a man she could feel safe with. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but she was full, perfectly satisfied under the austere lights of the museum, amidst the whispering tourists who had no idea there was blood and sun and love in the middle of the room. His eyes weren't those of a soldier, not even those of a hungry man in a strip club. Simon was something completely different from what she had originally thought.

"Why do you wear that skull?"

His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, a tiny betrayal of her having succeeded in surprising him again.

"Because I used to fear it."

That was solid reasoning, in her opinion. She could respect him for it. She liked the symbolism, the poetic, tragic beauty of it. The whole man was alluring… a tall, dark stranger although he was pale and blonde. His darkness was on the inside, but even that was savagely beautiful.

They went to the museum cafe after, and she ordered sparkling wine because, in her opinion, high culture demanded sparkles. This whole occasion demanded a toast — but then she noticed that Simon ordered tea. Not a glass of wine, or a beer, not even a coffee, but tea.

She had seen him drink at the club, just one scotch, but still. It wasn't a big deal; they didn’t need to celebrate what finally seemed to be a blooming relationship. But what was a big deal was that Simon seemed to disapprove of her having a glass of bubbly in the middle of the day.

"You drink often?"

"Um... no?”

She was feeling giddy, and not just because of the drink she was having. Simon’s question came out of nowhere, and the restless look on his face told her he was sincere. And then, another question followed.

"Have you done drugs?"

The situation had turned from fun to absurd so quickly that she bit her lip to hold back from smiling like a person who had something to hide. She hadn’t expected a man like Simon to give her a lecture about the dangers of recreational drugs.

"No." Technically, she had tried marijuana a couple of times at a party, but that couldn't be described as doing it.

"Good."

"Have you?"

"Never."

He was pleased enough with her answers, and the conversation seemed to have come to an end. She wanted to ask him more about this strict code he appeared to have, but before she could do it, Simon looked out the window and enlightened her.

"Father drank a lot."

It was a piece of information that equaled him giving her his gun. Giving her ammunition to shoot him with if and when the time would come. It also explained a lot.

"That sounds… awful."

"It was."

Simon had joined the army at a young age, and she had thought it meant he really wanted a career in the military, that there was a calling. But it appeared it might have something to do with wanting to get away from home as soon as possible.

"Is he still…?"

"He's dead."

---

She woke up in the middle of the night with the extremely uncomfortable feeling of not getting enough air.

When she came to, the first thing she felt was a forearm of steel pressed on her throat. In fact, there was a massive weight crushing her all around, but the most harrowing thing was the gaze she was met with, his eyes staring at her in a blank, cold, calculated rage.

"Simon..."

Those eyes were like lead, almost inhuman, and she tried to utter his name while her thorax and throat were being compressed with a gradually increasing weight.

"Simon."

He finally woke up from whatever flashback this was a reaction to and seemed to start breathing again at the exact moment the mist of icy wrath drew back from over his eyes.

"Fuck… " He took his arm from her throat, and she gasped for air and stayed still, fearing that the killer would come back any second.

"Shit. Sorry." Simon's eyes were wide and scanning her wildly, inspecting if he had done permanent damage. He slowly rose off of her and scrambled backward as far as he could go without falling from the bed.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, clearly more than a bit shocked.

It shocked her even more than the actual choking episode — to see Simon so visibly afraid.

"It’s okay," she said, wondering how many times she had told him everything was okay when it wasn’t. "I'm okay."

She rose to sit and reached out to touch him, but he flinched. Seeing a man of his quality recoil from her touch wasn’t just baffling. It was chilling.

"Not… right now," he said as he raised a hand to shield himself from her. The fresh frost in her chest only spread.

"Does this kind of thing happen often?"

What she had meant to ask was whether he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Although it was pretty clear that he did.

"Don't know. I usually sleep alone."

He swallowed, and she could hear the gulp. Simon was still breathing heavy, and she was rattled too, but the worst thing was yet to come as he got off the bed.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he said without taking even a pillow with him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she grabbed his arm when he was already headed to the door.

"There's nothing ridiculous about this," he said, looking more distraught by the second. And perhaps it had started to dawn on her, too. What if it happened again? What if he used even more power and actually killed her through sleep? If he had really meant to, he could've easily crushed her windpipe just a while ago. Still, seeing him so evidently shaken hurt her even more.

"You can't sleep on the couch every time you come here."

Technically, he could, but she didn't want him to. She tried to find humour in the situation, to crack some kind of a joke, but everything she came up with sounded bad and morbid. Perhaps he needed some space right now. She would just have to deal with it.

"You want to be alone?"

He stared at the floor and gave her a sullen half-shrug. He wouldn't move, and she felt bold enough to view it as a wordless beg for intimacy. She rose from the bed and walked to him, then wrapped her arms around him in an awkward hug when he continued to stand there completely frozen.

The ice melted eventually as he returned the hug. A deep sigh echoed in her bedroom, but her shock had started to shift and turn into something else. Simon wasn't a perfect man anymore, not in a way that made her a helpless woman. He was perfect now with flaws and stretched the space within her heart more and more by revealing he was a human after all.

"What would James Bond do?" She whispered while pressing her cheek against the warm, broad chest that had only now started to represent safety in her world. Even after what had just happened. Something in him finally latched tightly in place, like a puzzle piece that had collided against her the wrong way but now finally found the perfect angle and fit.

He huffed. It was only a little chuckle, but it was a start.

"I bet he wouldn't sleep on the couch," she continued, and he gave her a solid squeeze this time.

"I’m not James Bond," he muttered, and it felt like another magazine to the gun she had lately been provided with.

"That's okay. I don’t even like him."

#ghost x oc #simon riley x oc #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #ghost x female oc

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Small fun fact about me:

My mom is neurodivergent too! And not only that, but

Me and my mom share a special interest.

[A short post about me, my mom, hyperfixations, and how acceptance can help you grow]

For the last ten years, both me and my mother have had a hyperfixation on Marvel movies and Superhero movies in general.

And if anything, she's more fixated than I am.

This started at the same time, despite my mother never picking up a comic in her life. It happened when we first saw the Avengers in theatres in 2012.

Since then me and my mother have seen every Marvel movie on the day of release, or even a day before release.

When I was in high school, I remember her specifically pulling me out of school early to take me to the marathon premiere of Thor 2 and The Winter Soldier.

She's seen every Marvel media to date outside of the Netflix series. She's already finished Secret Invasion.

In recent years, we've gotten Unlimited movie memberships, and because we live in NY we can often see movies the Thursday before the Friday release, so we go to the movies almost twice a month, and we see movies repeatedly.

I saw ATSV three times in theatres while she saw it twice, and saw GOTG a second or third time. We recently saw Blue Beetle the day or two after release. She keeps me CONSISTENT.

The reason why I theorize about Marvel media and Spider-man media is largely because of her.

For years she was the one I theorized with. I've spoken to her about whether or not Peter set Miles up (she isn't convinced), or argue with her about whether or not Khonsu from Moon Knight is cool (he is).

She watches more Marvel fan content than me and inhales all the essays, reacts, and Easter egg videos on YouTube.

She's the same with recent Star Wars, she's seen Andor and Boba Fett and the Mandalorian, and currently working her way through Asoka.

And she knew about my past fixation on Loki in specific. She even knows about Hobie and Diane.

I told her I want to go to NY ComicCon as my spidersona and she was like "... You'd have to work on your roller skating" and I was SHOOK she remembered that about Diane because she's right.

But yeah, we've always been REALLY REALLY close over marvel stuff, and it's amazing having a parent who has the same fixation as you. It's like a natural thing, and I can speak openly about my theories or interests and she'll be like 'Oh yeah I noticed that incredibly niche moment where Hobie did that one specific thing, what of it'

I'm never treated weird for my fixation. Cause hers is stronger. I told her I didn't want to see GOTG again and she was like HUH and I was so heartbroken that I went and saw it anyway 😭😭

Some of my favorite moments with my mom are in movies theatres. And because we share this niche interest and neurodivergency, we're able to have these in-depth conversations about these characters we've formed bonds to together.

When Loki the show came out we'd been waiting literal years for it - like literally since 2013 talking about it. And I had a lot of mixed feelings about it.

But I could talk about those feelings and thoughts and characterizations with someone I know wouldn't ostracize me, knows the material as well as I do - if not more, and cares about these characters.

Because of that, my theorizing skills were able to grow all throughout my teenage years.

Because my hyperfixation was nurtured instead of demonized.

And I just think that's SO COOL.

Just wanted to share. Here's a photo of Miguel because I hate consistency [this is a hobie household]

Bye.

#neurodivergent #neurodivergency #neurodiversity #adhd #autism #actuallyautistic #actuallyadhd #hyperfixations #special interests #autistic experiences #spiderman #marvel #atsv #across the spiderverse

[ohblackdiamond]

the story of mandate (conclusion)

Part I is here. Here is the completely signed magazine.

I went to a Paul event thanks to my dear friend @elrohare and I was a woman on a mission. This was my holy grail, my twelve labors of Hercules, my ultimate sacrifice of good sense, my Mandate, if you will. Paul is a man of constant sorrow who's seen trouble all his days. Paul had not known trouble until he saw my face again a mere two months after his last time.

Unlike Gene, who will randomly set a date to hand out his crap for hilarious prices, Ace, who will appear at any 500-1000 seater across the country and balefully advertise his meet and greets onstage, and Peter, who will roll out of bed every six months for a horror convention, Paul does his events at Wentworth galleries across the country. Paul is basically like Pokemon Red's Porygon. You can get him, but he'll take everything you have.

I was prepared. I had done the legwork and the paperwork. Part of my purchase included an autographed item. (Please note that this is not nearly the entirety of the, uh, Paul Stanley Experience, if you will-- this is only the Mandate aspect of it. There was more!)

Paul remembered both of us. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah, couple months, since February, yeah." I'm actually sort of not shocked he remembered us since neither of us look like typical KISS fans. There is also a very large height difference between us, so we are distinctive. We talk. I manage some conversation, some of which is sort of funny. But I'm not here to provide Paul with wit and candor. I'm here for Mandate, which he has already by that point seen the back of even with me trying to cover the naked men in the tub with my phone. He has already also seen the front of it, with its doodled-on-by-Gene cover. He has seen it open, because I had to set it down in order for us to take our picture together. He has probably spent the whole rest of our conversation leading up to this determining what to say to the lone weirdo that has not given him RARO, his solo album, his other solo album, the KISS comic book (mint condition), or various and sundry other KISS collectibles.

He has hit on it. He gestures to the president of Wentworth who is, incidentally, the one that's borrowing my phone to take our pictures. He comes closer as Paul shows him the magazine, along with me.

"Gene drew on it [the front cover of my copy]," I say.

"Mandate... this is the very first magazine we were ever in." (Peter said the same thing in his first book. They are both technically incorrect, but far be it from me to correct Paul Stanley on things that happened before I was born-- and to be honest, knowing what I know about how slow it could end up being to go from writing a feature for a monthly magazine to it actually being published, it wouldn't surprise me at all if they'd done the magazine some months prior to it being on the shelves).

"Our manager at the time said he could get us into a magazine. We didn't know it was a gay magazine. I mean, whatever you're into, but... ["I wasn't," basically, though I don't know if he said those two words specifically]....." as he flips, completely needlessly, through the pictures, sort of slowly, until he gets to page eight and page nine, where all three of his bandmates have signed in black Sharpie. "Of course, they blew me [the photo] up. ... And Gene drew on it."

I finally manage to pipe up.

"Yeah, Gene texted you about it, purportedly, anyway...."

"Yeah, he did."

"He did? Really?"

He looked like he was weirdly thoughtful. Well, sounded like he was. Maybe even a little bit amused. I had a hard time looking too hard at him while this was going on, and I found myself looking more at the naked men he was flipping through. But I had my plan and I would not be too distracted. I had brought my own black Sharpie, since I knew he had a penchant for signing in silver (this is because his Wentworth artwork always comes with an inscription on black paper that he writes on in silver). The Sharpie was right there and, possibly because he was keenly aware of my level of distress at the thought of Mandate being signed in a different color, he obediently took it and signed it and shut it, and handed it back to me. My smile could've broken through my dimples.

Triumph complete. Thank you, @elrohare for again allowing me the pleasure of coming with, and I was glad to plus-one and for once, return the favor.

Thank you, Mr. Paul Stanley of KISS. And thank you to Peter, Gene (especially Gene!), and Ace. I hope Mandate gave you all an unexpected blast from the past, and I really wish I'd told Paul that Peter quite appreciated the ass on the guy on the front cover. Maybe next time.

#kiss the band #paul stanley #peter criss #ace frehley #mandate magazine #gene simmons

[writingduhh]

Drunk Ted Nivison (HC)

This is my first HC without a real ‘prompt’ so hopefully I got this right 😩

Pairing: Ted & Y/n

▷ Ted's cheeks flush a rosy hue when he's had a few drinks, making him even more adorable. You can't resist pinching his cheeks and teasing him about how cute he looks.

▷ When Ted gets a bit tipsy, he becomes even more affectionate than usual. He constantly pulls you into warm, tight hugs throughout the night whenever his arm isn’t already wrapped around your waist. He showers you with kisses, giggling all the while.

▷ Ted gets a little clumsy when he's drunk, which leads to adorable mishaps like spilling drinks or tripping over his own feet. You find his clumsiness rather endearing, always ready to help him.

“Watch out for that last step.” You advise, pointing out the hidden decline to your drunken boyfriend.

“Thank you babe but I got it.” He grins. As if on cue his foot met the corner of the step, causing him to fall the small distance to the ground.

“Shit.” He mutters.

“Ted! Are you ok?” You exclaim, rushing to his side in order to help him up.

“Yeah I’m ok. Just a bit dizzy. Hold on to me?” He softly asks, slinging his arm around your waist.

“Of course.”

(Another little after party scenario I thought of for this HC just bear with me plz I know someone out there will like it 😩)

“Ok, arms up.” You kindly command, looking down at where Ted sat on your shared bed. He gazed lovingly back at you, making your heart face.

“Yes ma’am/sir.” He agrees, standing up from the bed with his arms held above his head.

“No, Teddy, I can’t reach you up there.” You giggle, holding his pj shirt in your hands.

“Oh yeah, duh.” He grumbles, sitting back down with his arms up. Gently you pulled his shirt over his head before replacing it with a new one.

“Ok, now let’s get you into some pants.” You say, holding out his pj pants ready for him to step inside.

Smiling he rested his hands on your wrists, lifting his leg up into the pants. To your dismay he lost his balance falling flat onto his butt, pulling you down onto him. You both erupted in laughter, tears forming in your eyes.

▷ He's adamant about snapping spontaneous, candid photos together to seize the moment, resulting in a delightful collection of endearing and comical snapshots.

▷ He's always just a few drinks away from treating the entire party to a show of his karaoke skills. To the amusement of everyone in attendance, they loudly cheer him on.

“Guys look, a karaoke machine!” Ted exclaims to your group of friends.

“You should totally go up there!” One of your friends encouraged. Their response was followed up by agreement from the rest of the group, including yourself.

Happily he made his way up to the machine, Cueing up a familiar song. It was your favorite song.

“This song goes out to my beautiful partner, y/n.” He smirks, raising the microphone in your direction.

Your friends basically began screaming as he started his song, starting to gather an audience. By the end of the song the entire bar was watching, everyone cheering as he made his way back to the table where everyone praised him.

“That was amazing! I think you’re the new singer of my favorite song.” You smirk.

▷ He becomes a big softy, to you at least. Rather than his usual goofy antics, he's more focused on making sure you feel loved and safe. He'll often whisper sweet nothings into your ear, or making sure you’re feeling comfortable with the party around you.

▷ He becomes the ultimate dance partner, pulling his significant other onto the dance floor (or living room) for impromptu, goofy dance sessions. You share fits of laughter as you dance the night away.

“Ted, No! I cant dance!” You exclaim, dragging your feet as he pulled you onto the half filled dance floor.

“Cmon y/n, it’ll be fun. Here, I’ll help you.” He grins, holding out both his hands for you to grab.

Together you both began to dance and let loose, letting the music take control of your bodies. You and Ted’s enthusiastic dancing seemed to wear off as the once half filled dance floor was now packed with party goers.

▷ Ted becomes a chatterbox when he's tipsy, his words flowing freely as he becomes the life of the conversation. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he effortlessly keeps everyone engaged with his animated storytelling, quick wit, and a touch of humor. His tipsy chatter adds an undeniable charm to the gathering.

▷ He's a firm believer in late-night adventures, so he takes this opportunity to suggest going for a moonlit walk, stargazing, or even a spontaneous road trip (he’s not driving of course), wanting to create even more cherished memories together.

▷ He's also the type to surprise you with late-night snacks or their favorite comfort food, ensuring they're well taken care of and comfortable.

▷ Despite the alcohol, Ted remains incredibly considerate and respectful of your boundaries, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable with everything that's happening.

▷ After the party/gathering he becomes the ultimate cuddle bug. Ted insists on cuddling up with you on the couch or in bed. He becomes the designated "pillow talk" expert, sharing his deepest thoughts and feelings with you, having heart-to-heart conversations that strengthen your emotional connection. He absolutely refuses to fall asleep unless you’re in his arms or at the very least beside him.

Opening the door of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief as you finally took of your cute but uncomfortable shoes. As you did this you felt arms sneak around your torso, making you smile.

“Y/n can we go cuddle and watch a movie?” He asks, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Of course we can.”

Suddenly you were lifted off the ground, making you squeal. “Hey! Be careful please.”

“I’ll be careful, I’d never drop you.” He assures, holding you close until he collapsed onto the couch.

The next morning, he'll wake up with a hangover but a heart full of love and gratitude for you, thanking you for putting up with his drunken sweetness.

The sound of Ted groaning caught your attention from where you stood in the kitchen. Looking up you saw him standing in the doorway of your room, his large stature filling up most of the door frame.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greet with a grin, carefully placing the fresh breakfast you've prepared on the table. You eagerly open your arms as you spot him making his way toward you.

“Morning.” His voice was muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms slung over you.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Hungover. I don’t even remember changing into my pjs.” He admits, letting out a small laugh.

“I helped you get into them last night, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course. It’s not something you haven’t seen already.” He smirked, placing a kiss on your cheek.

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #ted nivison #ted nivison x reader #jschlatt x reader #ted nivison headcanons #ted nivison imagine #hc #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison fluff #ted nivison x you #ted nivison hcs #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison fic #ted nivison moodboard #Jschlatt #chuckle sandwich x reader #imagine #ted x reader #youtube

[infini-tree]

and many happy returns

Summary: Maybe there was a reason Harold's birthday never came up, he realized. (PPU-verse)

A/N: woe, personal take on the ppu-verse upon ye! this was originally supposed to be a comic, but quickly hashing out a short excerpt in two days is easier for me at the moment.

i realize there's a lot of one-off lines that imply something in the ppu-verse, but i think how things changed in comparison to the mainverse is pretty self-explanatory? though it might just be self-explanatory because its been in my head for long enough that i'm used to it.

honestly, the challenge with writing these guys is that they have a shades of being an Unreliable Narrator to them. and there's two layers of unreliability, if you squint!

-----------------------------------

George looked up to the Treehouse with nervousness in his gut. From the sounds, it was clear that Harold was already in there. Or a raccoon.

It was three years since he had moved to Jerome Horwitz and was moved up a grade. Three years since he was subsequently brought back to kindergarten. But most importantly, it had been three years since him and Harold met.

It was only a week ago that he overheard Harold's birthday was coming up.

He clasped the box in his hands a little tighter. He remembered seeing Harold linger at the display for it and trying to play it off, so he was sure he'd like it. Maybe.

He owed him a lot, maybe too much. Which was why he scrounged up his allowance for this. His birthdate was a more difficult thing to pick up, since it never came up in all their years of hanging out.

Before he lost his nerve, he threw the box into his backpack and climbed up the ladder.

"Harold! H--"

The next words get lodged up in his throat at the sight of the other boy throwing something at the walls of their treehouse lair. Repeatedly. Before slumping to the floor.

"Harold!" he scrambled up the final leg of the ladder, awkwardly bellyflopping onto the wood floor.

The boy flinched, conveniently obscuring... whatever it was. "Don't."

It seemed that he wasn't satisfied by the results, so he had started to bash the thing against the floor one last time so hard it shook the Treehouse.

After a moment of silence (and making sure the Treehouse didn't topple over), he slowly made his way over to him.

Step, he could see something bounce the light from outside onto the floor. Step, there was a whiff of plastic and the sound of crinkling. Step, he could see bright paper peek out from the spaces between the other boy's fingers.

"’S a gift from dad," Harold spat out in lieu of an explanation or apology or anything else.

George made a face. Yeah, that tracked. Very few things made him that mad.

As mad as he can get, he didn't like blowing up. He liked being sneaky, and being in control as he watched everyone else run around like chickens with no heads. In fact, he was super careful to never destroy any of George's stuff for some reason.

Harold's own stuff was free game, though. The boy stared at a dollar store plastic bat with a dent in it.

"The gift must've really stunk if you're this mad."

That, thankfully made the other boy let out an amused huff. "Yeah. It did."

"Then--" he gave a pointed glance at the box at his feet. "What's in that thing?"

A pause. "Workbooks."

He made a big show of leaning on the other boy's shoulder. On what little of the cover he could see, dead-eyed look of stock photo animals in a classroom looked back at him. "I don't think a bat would've made a dent in them."

Harold quickly slapped him away, more playful than anything.

"I used that before I knew what was in them, dummy." The light atmosphere didn't last for long, though. He gave an angry glare at the gift. “I was hoping I could break it.”

“Why, though?”

Harold’s hands clenched at the bright paper. Glitter smeared into his palms before he finally let go of them. “He does this… thing on my birthday. Mom too. 'S not even for me-- not really. More for what they want me to be.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. But George thinks he gets it.

Harold's dad was a weird guy. He didn’t live with him and his mom and his baby sister. From what little he’s heard and seen at the Hutchins driveway, he sounded… nice. But he knew that didn’t mean much of anything when his actions didn’t match. His mom had the opposite problem.

And most importantly, neither of his parents were here on his birthday. Sure, it was a weekday, but it was Spring break, for crying out loud!

Silence.

"I didn't even want a dumb gift!" He kicked the wrapped books-- tried to, but it barely grazed it. "Birthdays are dumb, anyway!"

George was not a words guy. That's what Harold was for. But right now, he had to find the right ones. His mouth tried to form the right shape silently. The words were there, all he had to do was--

"You think you still have those sparklers from the New Year's?"

Harold blinked.

"We can try and make those-- those, uh-- bonfires!--" He gave a pointed glance at the offending gift. "It's early for it, but it's pretty warm out. It can work."

It took a moment for him to put two and two together, but when it finally clicked– Harold broke out into a sly grin. He stood up like he ate half a pound of sugar before clapping a hand to his shoulder.

"Man, see that's why you're here-- ideas."

He tried to match his smirk. "I thought I was here for drawing?"

"That, too."

The both of them made their way out of the Treehouse with a skip in their sneaking. The both of them decided to split up and come back to Harold's backyard. Said Harold had taken to getting not only the sparklers, but anything remotely flammable, and George pilfered his kitchen for anything they could roast.

There wasn't any marshmallows, but there was leftover pizza and sliced pineapples in a tubberware which arguably was better. He cut the pizzas up to be kebab stick stabbing size and placed it over the grill.

"We should do this every year." Harold leaned forward from his lawn chair and fed a page into the flames.

"What if the gift next year isn't flammable?"

"I'm sure we could think of something." He let out a sharp laugh. "You know, I think this is the first time I'm actually looking forward to it."

George leaned back into his chair. He couldn't help but feel relieved-- not only because that he felt that he had partially repaid him (though, that was a bonus). Nah, seeing Harold's face light up every time he lit up a page was... fun.

(Not the right word, he thought. But again-- he wasn't here for words.)

The comfortable kinda-silence crackled on. Harold kept feeding the grill more pages as hey fed on their pizza and pineapples until both were gone. Eventually, even the fire died out and the both of them were forced to close the grill and made it seem like nothing happened.

Now, there was nothing except the lingering smell of smoke.

Harold gave a curious glance back at him. "What were you going to say?"

"Huh?"

"When you were climbing up the Treehouse, before you saw..." He vaguely gestured to the workbook-- or the cover that remained. "All that."

He was suddenly extremely aware of the weight in his bag. He looked to the grill. Then to him. And then gave a dismissive wave, trying to play off his shock. "I thought you finally found the raccoon that kept getting into the snack stash."

Harold let out an incredulous laugh. It had none of his usual sharpness, but all the volume he expected.

"You thought I was fighting a raccoon?!"

"I mean it was raccoon sized--" He gave a glance to the covers. "Or, was."

"Besides, we all know you're the one who keeps taking all the Sweet Patches." The words held no accusatory heat, but it did have a whiff of a challenge.

"Says the guy who keeps hogging all the Jelly Burgers!" George threw his bag off to the side and began run at the other boy.

Before he could react, he was quickly tackled to the ground as they began to play-wrestle in the grass. That was quickly called off as Harold had suddenly gotten an idea for a comic while faceplanted on the ground.

He could give the dolphin-shaped mini-soaker another time, play it off as something else.

#mellsian fanfics #captain underpants #alternate joke title to this was 'adhd be damned these boys can work a grill' #fudged the time for spring break for this sssh

[what4wh0re]

little Drabble Ig (Peter Maximoff x normal Fem!Reader)

Authors Note: Hii this is like my first time writing again since like 2020-2019, aka my wattpad era (ToT), so I hope it's not totally horrible! There will 100% be million of grammatical issues and mistakes! -Jaz

Summary: You and Peter are friends who just happen to be roommates. After turning 21 you and Peter decided to get an apartment together since you don't like living alone, and he needs to get out of his mothers basement. Months later he gets a Super Nintendo and decides to show you, and teach you how to play..

warnings: kissing, suggestive comments, fluffiest fluff ever, and bad writing.

You had just gotten done with training some students, and had started getting ready to go home. Then you hear someone clear their throat, you turn to see your favorite boy with silver hair, Peter.

You smile, 'what do you want?' He smirks 'babe, you know I always come to see you after your training'

turning from him to grab your bag off the floor, 'I know, but you look like you need to tell me something' standing up to turn him, he then crouched down, signaling you to get on his back.

'get on, we're goin home' you nodded getting on his back, shutting your eyes and holding him tightly. In seconds you're back at your guy's apartment.

He smiles, leaving you on his bed, 'you can lay down on my bed for a minute, imma go change n' get, The Coolest Thing Ever! You'll love it!' He is such a dork, honestly.

Looking around his room, it matches him so well, like those teen boy rooms from the movies; game posters, arcade machines, light grey walls, book shelves loaded with comics, and the messiest closet ever.

Speaking of closet, you decided to grab one of his shirts and change into it, taking off your previous clothes. Leaving you in his shirt and your shorts, he always has a pair of your shorts in his closet, you're always in his room or he's always in yours.

He comes out in his own merch.

You burst out laughing, taking a photo of him on his polaroid, you take the photo out and hold onto it with your life, as he walks over to you.

'sweetheart, can I see that photo?' He says as sweetly as possible. 'no, I love this photo!' you laugh.

'You haven't even seen it yet, it's not even done developing, hon.'

'so, it's almost done, and I just know that it's a cute photo'

'how so?' you smirk, deciding to tease him a bit 'cause it's you, and you know that you're cute.' He blushes, he's so adorable, he blushes, and always becomes a bit shy after a compliment, especially from you.

He rubs his neck, looking away from you for a moment. 'Yeah, I knew that, I know that. Uhm,' he clears his throat, 'yeah, oh, Oh, I wanted to show you, this,' He pulls a box from his desk drawer, A Super Nintendo box. He grins ear to ear.

'I thought that maybe you'd like to play with me or something, it's two player, so yeah.'

I smiled, sitting up to watch him set the game up. God he is just the best; cute, funny, dorky, and the sweetest boy ever. And he looks so good doing anything, but right know he looks like an angel.

He looks back at you, 'finished, how d'ya like it?' you smile 'I love it'

He sits on the edge of his bed holding the first player controller, giving you the second, you sit next to him, more like on him, but it's not like he minds, he's having the best day ever.

You in his room, with him, laying on him, playing a game with him, looking at him with those eyes. God, he could just die, and it's been like this for almost a month now, you and him together everyday, he just loves life.

you guys continue to play almost every game on the disk for hours, two hours, and 57 minutes. After changing into three different positions to get comfortable you end up, with him laying on your back and you laying on your stomach.

Turning to look at him 'wanna watch a movie and eat snacks?' he nods and scoops you into his arms walking to your room, 'I'd rather eat you, ya know, winking, before you hit his chest jokingly, laughing a bit. He then throws you on the bed, and jumps onto your bed, with you underneath him.

He stares at you, mostly your lips, okay, you're starting at his lips, so what. You think about what would happen if you kissed him. Only for your thoughts to be cut off by his lips.

He kissed you softly, then panicked breaking away, 'Peter, why did you-' he sits up, apologizing like crazy, 'I'm so sorry, I just, oh my god, I didn't mean too, well I did, but I should've asked first, I'm soso-' only to be cut off by your lips.

Grinning as he kissed back pulling you into his lap, 'Oh, so you feel the same?' he questioned your actions 'Peter, I've liked you for a year now. Of course I like you.'

He smiles, cupping your face 'I like you too, I like you like, a lot, a lot. I've been trying to find the right time to say it, but would you officially go on a date with me as my girlfriend?'

You bite back a smile 'Yes, of course. Boyfriend.' kissing him deeper than before, making him settle his hands onto your hips pulling you closer his chest.

____________________________________________________________

So was that like okay, I'm very good at using Tumblr in fact I've never really used Tumblr in a writing/typing setting, so, yeah. Let me know if you like want a part two I guess, idk maybe I'll write smut for it. I'll try to post at least like twice a week. I will probably be writing for like Evan Peters/some of his characters, Jack Champion/some of his characters, and TASM Spiderman/Andrew Garfield. -Jaz

#peter maximoff x reader #x men #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff fluff #x men fluff #evan peters #Evan peters fluff

[qierxing]

Love Duet

A/N: Listened to Piano Duet from Corpse Bride and cried from the emotional trauma

Yan! Riddle Rosehearts + Heartslabyul x Reader

Halloween AU

“Tell me darling, can a heart be broken even when it stops beating?”

CW/TW: Allusion to murder? yeah

—

For the longest time, Riddle thought he could never give his heart to another.

Not that he could in literal terms. His heart had long been cut out and his body left to rot in the sheer cold. His groomsmen also suffered the same fate even though they weren’t even the one to stand at the altar. For that, the emotion that he had felt at death was not anger or even guilt, but rather tired remorse.

His groomsmen, his dearest friends, had done all they could to console him as each agonizing decade passed. “One day, your true love will come to set you free.” Trey, his closest confidant had said at one time, clasping a reassuring arm around his shoulders. Riddle didn’t have the heart (no pun intended) to tell him that he no longer believed in love. If the one his mother chose couldn’t bear to love him, then how could he ever be sure that someone else would be willing to?

So when he and his men are resurrected, he’s face to face not with a skilled necromancer, but rather a terrified little mortal. You’re like a puny  mouse, scurrying backwards and falling comically in a pile of snow as the five of them merely stare at you dumbly. 

‘This must be a mistake’ is the first thing Riddle thought. 

It was…not apparently. But it might as well have been. He almost bursts a blood vessel when you sheepishly say, “I wasn’t expecting anything out of a stupid Halloween summoning ritual…” in response to his stern inquiry. Trey has to hold him back from blowing up at you, while Ace and Cater are bellowing hearty laughs, never having been entertained by such an innocent statement before. 

He wants to immediately go back to the land of dead after such a stupid encounter, but it’s you who reaches out for his skeletal hand and pulls him back.

“I’m really sorry for wasting your time! Please, is there anything I can do for you gentlemen to repay for it?”

At the time, he was only irritated and impatient. He wanted to get you off his tail and to never see you again. So he only sneers that haughty smirk of his and replies with the unthinkable.

“Very well. Find a way to let us all pass on.”

Ace and Deuce flinch, Cater opens his mouth with shocked eyes, and Trey also moves to object, but they all fall silent at his raised hand. They all knew that his demand was impossible: the four of them would not pass on without seeing Riddle’s wish fulfilled, and Riddle’s wish…

But you aren’t deterred at all, determination shining in your eyes and smiling big. 

“Alright!”

–

He had regretted his challenge then. He was forced to watch you start to clumsily make attempts on getting to know them all better. There’s something that twists in his chest as he sees you get along with Ace and Deuce, the three of you usually off to prank some poor soul. It slithers around in his guts as he watches as you show Cater how you take photos on your shiny sleek ‘smartphone’ and how Trey teaches you how to make macarons; clenching around his throat and mouth.

He’s repeatedly turned away each time you ask to spend time together and even conversations he cuts short. At first it was stubbornness but…when Trey questions him after he turned down another invitation from you, he can only clench his fists and stay silent.

Truthfully, there wasn’t any good reason. It was petty, at the most. Maybe it’s because you remind him when he was alive, when he was earnest to do his best no matter what. 

It’s finally when he catches you humming a tune that sounds hauntingly familiar that he breaks his silence. 

“That song…” You turn with wide eyes at him acknowledging you.

"You know this song?" He asks, and you slowly nod. 

"Yeah, my mom used to sing it to me all the time." You answer meekly, as if caught doing something naughty. Something tugs him to open his mouth again.

"Your mother?"

"Uh, yeah! She said that it was passed down to her by grandma, and to grandma by her mama–"

How could he not realize it? Like a spell breaking, it’s like his eyes have been opened to the truth. Your face, though long losing the exact likeness, still contained traces of her. Your cheeks, the curve of your lips, your eyes–it was like he was back to that fateful day at the altar.

“Do you, d̶̨̛͓̤̮͈͓̜͔̜̘̙͚̝̀̿̉̓̿͗͆͘͘̕e̴̢̠͕̹̜̼̬͇̰̒̂̑̽̏̈͜͜ͅā̸̠̝͊̚r̵̢̙̹̯̟͓̹̫̮̘͍̼̾͛̈́̾͆̏̈́̌͌͘͠ļ̵̧̭̻̲̰̳̞̥̮͎͚̃́̿́̊̀͂͝ẏ̵̧̗͓̞͎̲̦̭̄̃͊̍̑̑͛͂̋ ̷̪͕̠̰͇̬̜̾͘b̴̲̫̯͈̠͓͙̤̮̓̈́̌̂̈̈̄̈̓͂͊͘͝͝ͅě̵̡̤̗̔̑̂͊͝l̷̢̢̜͓̖͎͍̗̣̲͎̹̖͗̈͐͊͋́̎͐͗́̇͋͜o̶̙̝͎͍͇̝͑̿̀̽͑v̷̬̥̈́͛́̋̊͗̈̑̚e̶͎̗̝̫̗̤͍̘̓̆͒̓ͅd̷̳̜̤͔͎̫̤̞̈́̒̎̇̉̎͗̃̋̈̚͝ͅ, take Riddle Roseheart to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?” The priest intones. The morning light shines behind him, giving an almost saintlike glow to the man as he presides over the two. His bride is silent, and he frowns as an awkward silence stretches.

“No.”

 A gasp of outrage and confusion reverberates in the chapel, including his own groomsmen, who worriedly looks at him during the exclamation. 

“Riddle?” He snaps back to the present as a hand waves in front of his face. “Are…you okay?”

You’re not her. He supposes it is ironic: fate has brought him back to face his past again, but not in matrimony or love, but in a bet. No matter how much he wishes for it, you were not her.

“I’m okay.” He replies in a voice so distant he doesn’t realize it comes from him. He reaches a hand out to touch your cheek and as your confused eyes meet his own calm ones, he can only think of how his heart is at ease.

“I’m okay.” 

He sighs with a genuine smile spreading across his face.

–

You’re not sure if it’s good that Riddle is like this.

You were sure something possessed Riddle to act so sweetly to you, when only a couple weeks ago he refused to be left alone in a room with you. You would like to be happy that he’s finally warming up to you, but the change is so abrupt that you find it hard to be fully convinced that he truly likes you. It’s like he’s a different person, pulling out chairs for you, brewing you tea whenever you want something hot, and even helping you with your chores. As he stays close by your side, you’re starting to feel a bit nervous.

And you’re not sure how to tell him that you’re nowhere near close to figuring out how to lay them to proper rest. 

It’s like they are all synchronized: Ace likes to lie outright and just brush you off, Trey and Cater both avert their eyes and try to distract you with a different topic, and Deuce is all but skillful with his fumbling words. But they still remain tightlipped about what they wish before they pass on to the afterlife. Maybe Riddle would know?

He doesn’t look surprised at your recountings, but nor does he look smug as you expected him to be either. He only continues to sip the breakfast tea you brewed with a calm expression before setting it down with a quiet clack.

“It’s because their wish is tied with mine.” You blink, processing the information.

“And my wish…” He trails off, eyes staring into his cup. “Do you truly want to hear it?”

There’s something in his voice that sets your nerves on edge, but you can’t abandon your goal when you’re this close. It would be cruel to deprive the mens’ souls from finding true peace at this point.

You swallow. “What is it?”

“True love.” His eyes move up to stare into your wide ones. “I wish to be with the one I truly love.”

There’s a heavy silence that hangs in the air after the statement. His eyes continue to bore into yours and your heart starts beating faster. He can’t possibly mean…

“Have…have you found someone you truly love?” You ask, throat dry and tightening.

His lips curl up into a smirk. “Yes. Yes, I have.”

“Who is...?”

His smirk widens. “I think you may already know.”

You get up abruptly, pushing back your chair and sending silverware clattering. Riddle’s face immediately scrunches in disapproval, but you have more to worry about than a nagging lecture.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you pass on anymore.” The words are out of your mouth before you can rethink them. Riddle’s face becomes stone cold, silver grey eyes narrowing into needles. His head tilts back haughtily, still looking down on you even as he’s seated.

“It seems you’re mistaken. You don’t have a choice now. You promised, remember?”

–

Trey, though he looked guilty, had no arguments when Riddle ordered him to carry your slumbering body as they traveled back to the land of the dead. The rest of his groomsmen surprisingly don't bat an eye. Cater just grins and says he can't wait to show you around the land of the dead. The younger duo also chimes in that they wanna teach you more scare tactics and hang out more. Riddle also doesn't miss the way Trey tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear when it seems no one is looking.

But he’s glad, because it means he only needs to worry about when you wake up from your forced slumber. You may not like the new change, being removed from your home so rudely, but you made a promise, and he won’t let you walk away from it.

Perhaps he won't be able to pass on, as he regards your sleeping face, but at least he can spend the rest of eternity with you and his men.

#yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #my works #HEARTSLABYUL SLAY MOMENT IN HALLOWEEN

[dc-worse-dad-poll]

“slade was a GOOD father”-tales of teen titans 44

i’m sure that counts for something

he like

immediately fucked that up majorly…but it’d be funny if he got eliminated

tales of the teen titans (1984) #44

i am genuinely trying to remain unbiased in this whole poll (except in small things that are funny, not annoying, like the poll photos) but if you are mentioning slade wilson it is my duty to tear him to pieces.

for context, Tales of the Teen Titans #44 is the introduction to Joey and also explains Slade's backstory. which we do not need to get into the gritty details of, but it's actually similar to Captain America in Marvel except Slade is a piece of shit about it.

grant is born while slade is in the army still and joey is born while he's a hunter but before he's deathstroke. but slade switches to being deathstroke FAST and starts using his family as a cover. who will think the old guy at the PTA meetings who hosts big parties and loves his kids and treats his wife properly will be deathstroke the fucking mercenary?

deathstroke inc (2021) #15

and here's the thing. anyone who reads a deathstroke or wilson family kid's comics knows that slade does genuinely love his family, in his own twisted way. which is why he's such a bad dad. for this, i always cite the same fucking comics because it's so fucking good.

teen titans (2003) #78

the thing about slade is that he's going to be a terrible father and person no matter what. but he loves his kids, so he justifies all those terrible things by saying he loves them and is trying to keep them safe. which is fucking bonkers, because if he really wanted them out of his life, he'd stop going after them. like how he puts out a bounty on rose in deathstroke (2016) #2.

this is the guy who would rather save his ego and reputation than his own son. whose actions resulted in the death of his eldest and he proceeded to blame on a bunch of teenagers with a vengeance. and slade is fantastic at justifying his shitty as actions and making himself seem either not that bad or like he's been wronged.

and just like slade always chases after his kids, always brings them back and treats them like utter shit, his kids always go back to him, too.

more panels from teen titans #77-78, but honestly just read any comic with him and the kids and you'll get this "i hate you i love you please change for me" dynamic.

so. sure, you can argue that slade used to be a good dad, but it's pretty obvious in any wilson family reading that he's always used his family to further his own desires.

even with grant, when he found him again as ravager, it was to use grant for a job, not because he loved and missed his son. and then he justifies that by raging a war against the titans for generations in Grant's name.

so. yeah. slade's love always comes broken and with some sort of asterisk. he's a good dad when it benefits him. he's a bad one when it benefits him. because that's the kind of person he is. so addie is saying he was a good father because that's the show he was putting on for her and the kids.

#there's also the whole 'knew what ish was doing to joey and didn't stop it' thing #but that's strictly rebirth from my understanding so idk if people would care enough about it #but. idk i think a genuinely good dad would beat his friend up for doing that to his son. #not a poll #asks #slade wilson #bias showing posts

[gunilslaugh]

i know everyone tells you this but you do literally carry the xreader fandom on this site…i love you so much… also i would like to request how you think ot6 would be in a ldr? especially with a big time gap, like “good morning” “why are you awake so late” type time gap

Thank you! Hearing my reader say they love me kinda makes me shy lol...but I love you too....

All members (` • - • `)

Summary: Xdinary Heroes in a long distance relationship, with a large time difference.

WC:~1k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Long distance relationships weren’t exactly ideal in the first place, but you and Gunil made it work. Even with the addition of a huge time difference between the two of you. The time difference actually made your relationship a bit comical. For instance, when Gunil received your “How was practice? Did you eat dinner already?” and he responded with “Why are you awake? It’s like 2am for you go to bed!”. The roles can be reversed too. You’ll receive a sweet good morning text from him, “Good morning love 💘” and you respond with “Goodnight love 💞”. You guys still find plenty of time to talk, it’s just on opposite ends of the day for each of you. He’s having breakfast and you’re having dinner over a video call date. Some days the distance and time are rough to handle, but you and Gunil muscle through those days together. You and Gunil share the start and end of your days together. They may be flipped from one another, but you and Gunil make it work.

Jungsu 

Jungsu can watch the sunset and only a few hours later you can watch the sunrise. The end of his day is the start of yours. It’s a bit hard to believe that the two of you are able to make your long distance relationship flourish with such a large time difference between you. It’s completely possible though you and Jungsu found out how to beat the distance and time. The two of you call eachother often.

“Wait, why is it so dark where you are?” Jooyeon asked as he walked by while you and Jungsu were on call. 

“Because it’s nighttime here.” You moved your camera to show the darkness outside. Complete opposite of the daylight they were having. 

“Yeah they need to go to sleep soon.” Jungsu gives you a bit of a stern look. Jungsu was always concerned about you sleeping well. He loves how thoughtful your morning texts to him are, but at the same time he knows that’s really late for you and you should be sleeping. The same can be said for you.

Gaon/Jiseok

Jiseok often jokes that you’re living in the past due to the big difference in time between you guys. He says things like. “I remember the nineteenth like it was yesterday” because it was yesterday for him, but it’s today for you. So you’ll joke that he’s living in the future. Jiseok does’t scold you for not sleeping. He’ll happily receive your good morning text, he does wonder why you’re still awake at such a time though. 

“Good morning ☀️ 😁” you sent him.  “Thank you! Why are you still up?” he responds back. “Work : / ” you replied. “Bad work 😑” he texts back, making you smile. The large time difference somehow doesn’t really affect you or Jiseok, it’s the distance that creates some difficulties. 

“The close-est I can get to cuddling you is holding my phone to my chest” Jiseok pouts. He’ll do just that until he can hold you in person and doesn’t plan on letting you go for a very long time once he does. 

O.de/Seungmin

Sometimes Seungmin looks back at your shared texts and laughs. Specifically the ones where you say “Good morning” and he says “Goodnight” or vice versa. The time difference made your long distance relationship more interesting. You ask him what he’s eating for dinner and he asks you what you're having for breakfast. Your days are basically revered from one another, but that won’t stop the two of you from having a happy relationship. It took some adjusting at first to get used to the big time difference, but now that you have it’s just another thing about your relationship. 

“Why are you calling me? It’s late for you,” You ask Seungmin as he called you in the morning. 

“I wanna talk to you,” he states simply. 

“You should sleep,” you tell him. 

“Then talk to me while I fall asleep,” he bargained. You agreed, talking to Seungmin until his eyes fell and stayed closed. His soft snores coming through over your speakers. 

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Multiple people have asked both you and Hyeongjun what was the point of being in a long distance relationship. Especially when there was such a huge time difference between you two as well. The point was that you and Hyeongjun loved each other. Loved each other so much that you would find how to deal with the distance and the time difference. 

“How was practice? :)” you texted Hyeongjun. “Why are you awake right now? :(“ he responded. You could imagine the pout on his face. “I was binge watching a show next thing I knew it was 3am” “Go to sleep” he tells you. “Ok” you replied. “Goodnight ✨” he sends you. Hyeongjun often worries about your sleep schedule because you often contact him at times when you shouldn’t be awake. Although he can’t say that his sleep schedule is always better than yours. He too will contact you when he should be sleeping, but his desire to talk to you is stronger than his desire to sleep sometimes. 

Jooyeon

Jooyeon manages to find a way to be a menace even with the big time difference between you both. “It’s finally the weekend! Oh no wait it’s Friday for you lol” is a text you received from him a little too much. He will also say things like “My yesterday is your today. What’s it like living in the past?”.  You usually retort with “Yes, and my tomorrow is your today. What’s it like living in the future?”. Jooyeon actually finds the time difference kinda cool. He thinks it makes your relationship more interesting. Not only are you physically so far apart, but you’re also not even always living on the same day. Jooyeon loves to call you when he should be sleeping. Even when you scold him about it. 

“Don’t hang up. I like falling asleep to the sound of your voice. It makes me feel closer to you,” Jooyeon said. You couldn’t really hang up on him after that. It almost becomes routine for you to talk to him while he falls asleep.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh gunil #xh jungsu #xh gaon #xh jiseok #xh ode #xh o.de #xh seungmin #xh junhan #xh hyeongjun #xh jooyeon #gunil x reader #jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #jiseok x reader #o.de x reader #oh seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #junhan x reader #han hyeongjun x reader #hyeongjun x reader #jooyeon x reader #goo gunil #koo gunil #gunil

[dg-outlaw]

X-Men '97 and the Gambit Ford F-150 Trailer Hitch Clutching

So I haven't watched all the episodes yet, but I wanted to address the stuff I've seen/heard about certain dudes in the "fandom" getting all upset about Gambit's crop top and how it made him seem gay or bi coded, even though in the entire episode he's classic Remy LeBeau from the original 90s series--not too interesting in helping out or doing anything other than what he wants to do, shamelessly flirting with Rogue, and busting everyone else's balls/possibly flirting with them too, but will still jump into the fight when it's time.

Oh, and Gambit was my favorite X-Men character growing up and I'm a cishet male, if that matters. Spoiler alert: It shouldn't.

"Holy Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition, Batman! It's his belly button."

If that's you, you clearly were too young in the 90s to remember the fashion of the day. The top photo and the ending basketball scene (a references to the comics as well), was soooo 80s/90s. Bishop's got a lime green tank top on and Cyclops' tank top is tucked into his shorts. The animators understood the assignment.

If anything, Remy (above) is rock-n-roll coded more than anything else. Just Google most 80s era rock bands that had songs about partying, sex, hot babes, etc. and you'll see big hair, eyeliner, bright colors, leather pants, jewelry, fishnets, fingerless gloves, and yes... crop tops. Maybe the 80s and 90s were "gay", IDK, but I remember most of my childhood clothes in the 80s and early 90s were some variation of a neon color as was every other kid's regardless of gender.

As mentioned above, he soooo badly wants in Rogue's pants, which possibly eliminates any gay coding, which only leave bi coding if a 90s crop top = being bisexual.

Who. Freakin'. Cares. Say this out loud with me. You can like, love, and enjoy a character without identifying with that character in any way, shape, or form (and that's probably a good thing for some characters). This can mean their sexuality, gender, ethnicity, religion, morality, or anything else about them. Yes, we can bring in the Punisher debate and how military and law enforcement appropriated the Punisher logo as their badge of honor and intimidation, and how they cherry-picked traits from that character to signal their toxic masculinity when Frank Castle is not meant to be a patron saint of law enforcement or the military. But it is also possible to just enjoy a character without making that character your identity. You can enjoy their characterization, storylines, or even something as simple as their costume, superpowers, or where they're from because you were born or grew up there too.

As mentioned above, Gambit was my favorite character growing up when I first got into X-Men, mostly thanks to this series, and he and I are very different. To me, Gambit was the cool, confident guy that I wasn't. He also wasn't Cyclops or Wolverine.

As a kid, most kids wanted to be Wolverine when playing X-Men on the playground because he had the claws and the healing factor. To us, he was OP which fit in with the whole childish argument of big, bigger, biggest, and finally infinity whatever... until someone busted out with the infinity times infinity argument. Also, there was no real internet and comics weren't readily accessible, so most of the knowledge at that time was from the show and limited comics one might've had. Plus, I think the whole Magneto pulls the adamantium from Wolverine's body storyline hadn't happened yet so yeah, that would've been a good game changer on the playground.

Anyway, outside of Batman, I was never a fan of the "popular" thing growing up and often preferred more underdog characters, teams, and things. Also, due to self-esteem issues I always felt less than, so while I liked Wolverine it was hard for him to be my favorite since he was everyone else's and I felt like I wasn't cool enough to like him. Cyclops on the other hand was the clean cut boy scout, which also didn't appeal to me because that was also something I didn't relate to. Outside of Beast and Morph, who got sidelined earlier in the series, that then left Gambit. (Note: Bishop wasn't a part of the main group and came later on.) But Gambit also seemed cool to me. He had a cool looking outfit, was agile and knew how to fight (I was into martial arts at the time as well), and could throw explosive cards. He definitely fit the "Rule of cool" in my child brain.

Lastly, and this goes back to point #4 above, it shouldn't matter what a character is like or how they identify. They're fictional and enjoying them as a medium should be fun. They are not you and you are not them, even if you have things in common. That said, I do think it's great when there's representation as well. I don't recall if this was in the OG series, though I seriously doubt it was, and I don't know about main Marvel canon, but I also think it's cool that Morph now has they/them pronouns as seen in the profile credits and Marvel wiki. I'm sure some people have missed this and I'm sure that'll be the next hot-button issue, but whether Gambit is gay, bi, straight, or whatever, he's still one of my favorites and it's why I grabbed this guy when it first came out.

I have more things to say about this first episode and my experience with the X-Men growing up, but I'll save that for other posts as this has gotten long enough already.

#x men 97 #x men the animated series #gambit #remy lebeau #long post