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ghoulphile · 2 days

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no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.

In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.

And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.

No one lives in the vaults - not truly.

Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.

Not anymore.

Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.

To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers.

Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.

Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).

Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.

Ghouls; who knew, huh?

Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.

And kind of frightening.

But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded. His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).

You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone.

He was alone - had been for a very long time.

He was very old - one of the last of his kind.

And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.

“The fuck you doin’?”

Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.

And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.

“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”

The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”

You huff, your knees starting to ache.

Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.

“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”

Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.

While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.

The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.

The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.

A true ‘surfie’ now.

“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”

You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.

Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.

The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.

You could let the waist out some…

What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.

“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”

Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.

After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.

The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.

Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.

Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream.

Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.

You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?

Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.

Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.

Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.

No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.

And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.

Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.

But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.

You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.

“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”

Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”

The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”

“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”

You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.

Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”

“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”

“I just - you don’t understand…”

He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.

He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.

“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”

Not an offer - not really.

More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.

If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.

Quid pro quo.

And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.

Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.

“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”

A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”

Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.

Shit.

Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.

Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.

Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.

His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”

“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”

While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.

He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.

“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.

A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.

At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.

It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.

You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”

His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.

“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”

“I-”

Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.

You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.

You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.

“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’

Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.

His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”

“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”

He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.

The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.

So close you can taste it.

Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.

Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.

You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”

Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.

Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.

Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fanfic

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cupcakeslushie · 21 hours

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Hey slushy, would u mind explaining the difference between all samurai’s Leo’s shipped with … theres so many different ones (yuichi usagi miyomoto…)

I’m just asking you bc I don’t know who else to ask :,))) but yes they are confusing

So nearly every turtle except Rise has had a crossover with Miyamoyo Usagi written by Stan Sakai. The creators of TMNT have been creating crossovers with his comic “Usagi Yojimbo” (meaning Samurai Rabbit). A lot of people get confused and think Yojimbo is his name but that really just means “bodyguard”, so it’s more his profession.

Usagi’s first cartoon TMNT appearance was in the original 1987, where he was misnamed as Yojimbo (lol even the writers do it!)

Then he was in the 2003 series as an every now and then guest. Usagi and Leonardo were close friends, who bonded almost instantly during the Battle Nexus Championship, and later Usagi even came in to help Leo during a time when he was doubting himself and his skills.

In 2012 Miyamoto Usagi was introduced in the three part special “Yojimbo” during the 5th season. He and Leonardo butt heads at first, both thinking they knew the best way to lead, but eventually they learned to work together. In 2012 I’d say their friendship wasn’t as focused on as in 2003 or the comics, but those three episodes are probably the best episodes of the 2012 series. I’d definitely give them a watch even if you don’t want to check out ‘12 as a whole.

And then, unfortunately in Rise, we never got to see Miyamoto Usagi. I think there were plans, but most of the fandom saw Netflix’s new series “Samurai Rabbit: the Usagi Chronicles” and its main character Yuichi Usagi

Yuichi is the descendant of Miyamoto Usagi, and seemingly much more carefree and goofy. I can’t say for sure, as I’ve never actually seen the show, but I believe that’s what drew a lot of the fandom to his character for Rise Leo. They both have similar temperaments and were airing at similar time frames. I think us older fans tend to go with Miyamoto, since they’ve already got the history of being friends, but Leo x Yuichi is certainly interesting too! It’s definitely up to fandom interpretation, since we never got a canon personality or name drop for him!

🐰🩷🐢

#rottmnt #ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #usagi miyamoto #rise usagi #leosagi #katanashipping

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forest-hashira · 20 hours

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this absolutely would not leave me alone, in reference to this post. @fushigurro thank u for supporting/enabling me. divider by cafekitsune. this is omegaverse, mentions of heat cycles/sex but nothing explicit. minors dni.

it had been a few days since your synced heat with satoru had ended, and though it hadn't actually lasted longer than normal, it had felt like it, neither of you able to get the kind of relief you really needed. you'd given yourselves a day to sober up and recover, and then you'd had a much dreaded conversation.

you'd been everything to each other since you'd gotten together straight out of school. in all that time, you'd never needed anyone else for anything, even able to get each other through your heats with a little help from some toys. but this had been a brutal wake up call, a reminder that there were some things you'd never be able to do for each other, no matter how hard you tried.

it was unsettling to realize, though, and the following realization that you would have to find someone else to trust in your most vulnerable moments was downright scary. a new partner couldn't be just anyone, especially not if they were going to help both of you when you needed it. in fact, there was only one person either of you could imagine trusting with that.

and so you set up a coffee date.

"you feelin' okay, baby?" satoru's gentle voice pulled you from your mental spiral, and you offered him a weak smile.

"what makes you ask?" you set your drink down on the table, unable to stomach anything because of your anxiety.

"your leg has been bouncing nonstop since we sat down." he peered at you over the tops of his sunglasses, leaning in to rest his forehead against your temple. "it's all gonna be fine, you know that, right?"

"unless he hates us for asking this of him and decides he never wants to speak to us again." you weren't expecting the laugh your words drew from him, and you pinched his side harshly. "don't laugh at me! it's not impossible..."

you could practically feel him roll his eyes at you. "he's not gonna hate us," he soothes, the faintest hint of a purr rumbling beneath his words, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "i doubt he'll say no, either. he's had a thing for you for years."

"he has not!" you turned and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

satoru cocked his head slightly, seeming genuinely surprised. "he has too! he told me once when we were drunk, before we all graduated and you and i got together. you didn't know?"

"of course i didn't know! he never said anything to me. i knew he was in love with you, though."

it was satoru's turn to look shocked. "you're lying to me."

"i am not! we all saw the way he looked at you. it was obvious."

your boyfriend seemed to pale at your words, as impossible as it was. "for how long?"

"from the very first day i met you guys. he still looks at you like that, y'know."

"who looks at satoru like what?"

suguru's voice startled both of you, and you looked up at him with burning faces. the alpha's brows pinched with concern as he sat across the table from the two of you. satoru pushed a black coffee towards him, but it went untouched as he spoke again.

"are you guys okay? you said you needed to ask me something important. is something wrong?"

you and satoru exchange a look, your omega offering you an encouraging nod.

"sort of," you sighed after a moment. "we, uh. well. our heats synced last week, and it sucked. like it was really bad."

suguru nodded, worry still painted across his features. "even with each other and..." he trailed off, glancing around as if remembering you were in a public place, and that it was probably not a great idea to talk openly about sex toys.

"yeah, even with that," you confirmed. "it was really, really miserable, and we really don't want to be caught off guard if our cycles ever sync like that again. which is why we asked you here."

now he really looked confused. "i don't think i understand."

"we need an alpha," satoru replied, his blunt nature a true blessing in that moment. "and you're the only one we trust to help us – to take care of us."

there was a beat of silence, then another. your heart began to pound, and you felt a bit sick all of a sudden. because this was it, wasn't it? your best friend outside of your partner was about to tell you both that you were disgusting simply for asking, and that he never wanted to hear from you ever again. he was—

"oh, uh... really?" there was no mistaking the flustered look on your friend's face, and that surprised you; he was usually so confident. "yeah, of course. i'm honored you trust me like that. anything you need, just let me know. i'll be there for you."

the relief that washed over you was so intense it nearly made you dizzy, and you were certain you would've collapsed if you weren't already sitting down. "you don't wanna take some time to think about it?"

he shook his head. "don't need to. if it means helping you guys, the answer's always going to be yes."

"whipped for us already, huh?" satoru teased, attempting to maintain his composure despite his face being the prettiest shade of pink.

the smile that tugged at suguru's lips was affectionate, his gaze warm as he took in the two of you across from him. "yeah," he agreed softly. "something like that."

#trying to get out of the habit of apologizing for posting things that are “outside” what i usually post so. i'm not sorry!#(is shaking & gripping the sink)#fallon's fics #cw omegaverse #tw omegaverse #satosugu #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nobody look at me rn idk where this came from

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hanni-bae44 · 1 day

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Title: Secret Admirer (Mark)

Pairing- Mark x fem!reader

Genre- high school au, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count- 3.2k

Summary- You had a secret admirer who kept leaving notes in your locker. And thanks to all the clues he left behind, it didn’t take much to figure out that the culprit was your friend— Mark Lee— all along.

A/N- For the sake of the plot, this fic takes place in an American high school, you guys will see why as you guys read :) Anyway, have fun reading, love you all <3

Another love note.

You stood before your locker dumbfounded. It had been two weeks of finding a note in your locker everyday. Sure it was flattering, but what if they were not your type? Or worse, a creep? Rejecting someone was just as hard as getting rejected. Okay, maybe not as hard, but it was still difficult.

What if it was someone you knew?

A friend?

So far all the clues you had about the secret admirer was that they were a boy, owned pink post-its, knew where your locker was, and in one of your classes. You also knew some irrelevant details of the secret admirer but it wouldn’t help you to crack down on the suspect, so you pushed it to a corner in your head.

For the past week, you'd been observing everyone in your classes but you still couldn’t determine who the culprit was. There was no lingering stare or anything unusual that made you suspect anyone.

“Another one?” Chenle beamed, interrupting your train of thought. It was as if he came out of nowhere, making your heart drop from his loud voice. He pulled the note out of your hand as Mark stood beside. “So who do you think keeps leaving you these cryptic notes?”

“I have no idea.” You turned, leaning against your locker. “Part of me thinks it's a joke, maybe someone’s messing with me. Maybe it’s Haechan, he’s always messing with me.” Yeah, it had to be him. He was always the prankster.

“Haechan messes with everyone, I doubt anyone would go this far just to mess with you,” Mark assured you. “The notes look genuine to me. Maybe they like you but they’re just shy.”

“I guess.” Looking back at Mark, you felt deflated at the nonverbal rejection. A part of you hoped it was him but you supposed not. Mark didn’t seem too bothered that you had a secret admirer either. Any thought of him possibly reciprocating your feelings flew out the window. You refrained from frowning.

“Hey Mark, read this,” Chenle nudged him with a grin, “Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I could tell you how I feel, but for now I’ll just write my heart in this note with a seal,” Chenle read out loud in a teasing tone, “Isn’t that cheesy?”

Mark shrugged, pouting at the boy. “I think it’s romantic.” Then he looked at you. “Don’t you think so, Y/N?”

“It would be more romantic if I had a face to match the words too,” you droned.

You checked your locker between every class. Some days the notes would show up early in the day while other times, it wouldn’t be there until your last period.

Today, it was the latter.

B- Before I met you I didn’t know I could like someone so much. E- Eager to express my feelings, a friend suggested I be your secret admirer. A- Afraid of rejection, I started leaving notes for you. U- Upon being near you, I can feel my heart beat. T- The thing is, I never thought my feelings would progress this much. I- I wonder what you think of me. F- For now, I hope these notes are okay. I’ll tell you one day. U- Usually, I’d just suck it up and say it, but you're special to me. L- Liking you is too easy, saying it out loud is the hard part.

Love, your secret admirer <3

Another acrostic poem, this time instead of your name, it was of an adjective. And instead of a post-it note, it was on a bigger piece of paper. You scanned the ink again and again, hoping for some clues that would reveal the culprit. But so far, nothing.

“Whoever this dude is, he has game don’t you think?” Jaemin smirked as he stood beside you. He had been reading the note over your shoulder while breathing loudly at the same time.

“If he actually had game, he would flirt with her right to her face and not hide behind a paper and pen,” Chenle insisted, taking the paper out of your hand to read himself.

“It’s nice. I just wish I had a face to think off when I read it,” you sulked. “Am I that intimidating?” you asked your friends.

“Not particularly. You could ease up on that resting bitch face though." Jaemin said while shrugging. Chenle stifled a laugh while you scoffed. “Anyway, update me later on who the lover boy is, I gotta go,” Jaemin added quickly before jogging towards the direction of the buses with his other friends.

You supposed you should start walking to the buses too before you were stuck walking home. Chenle and you both began to move your feet.

“You still haven’t told Mark yet have you?” Chenle whispered as he nudged your side.

“Don’t say his name,” you angrily mumbled, eyes scanning the crowd in the hallway. “People could be listening, and no I haven’t. If I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same, it’s going to be awkward, we’re literally in the same friend group.”

Chenle was the only one in your friend group that knew about your crush on Mark. You never wanted to tell anyone, especially Chenle since he was a blabbermouth but you were dumb. You left your diary at his house while doing homework together and he read all your private thoughts. Chenle could keep a promise but he also often spoke before thinking. The amount of times he accidentally spilled a surprise or a secret was too many to count.

You stared solemnly at the concrete sidewalk ahead.

Chenle snapped you out of your thoughts, placing a hand on your shoulder as encouragement. “Things only get awkward if you let it be. Plus, I doubt he’ll push you away if that’s why you’re hesitant to confess. You should tell him how you feel before it’s too late. The next thing you know we’ll all have graduated and he’s with someone else and you’ll be wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life.”

“You’re one to talk,” you scoffed. “Don’t you like that one girl in our first period? If you don’t tell her, you’ll be stuck wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life,” you repeated his wise words back to himself.

“That’s different,” Chenle narrowed his eyes.

“Not really,” you deadpanned.

“Whatever. Don’t tell him then. He has girls lining up to confess. He has options. Can’t say the same for you though.”

“You suck." You lightly smacked his arm.

I rewatched the Spiderman movies yesterday. (The ones with Tom Holland) And it made me wonder if Peter Parker hates watermelon as much as you do. I promise it’s so refreshing if you get past the texture. You’re just like a friend I know, he hates the texture of fruit too. Except it's only cute when you hate it :’)

Another note.

You found it weird with why he randomly mentioned watermelon— a topic that came up in the cafeteria yesterday. This had to be someone within your proximity during lunch. You’ve only ever mentioned your distaste for that watermelon with your friends. Was it an eavesdropper? Or was it someone at the table?

You weren’t sure, but at least that lowered the possible suspects down.

At lunch, you brought up the topic of movies but no one mentioned Spiderman. Your friends were all too fixated on some new video game to care. Frustrated that your effort became fruitless, you began to chug your chocolate milk before taking a bite of your burger.

“Why do you care so much about what movie everyone is watching anyway?” Mark asked from beside you as he took a bite of his sandwich.

You took the folded note out of your pocket and showed Mark. “My secret admirer just watched the Spiderman movies. He also likes watermelon apparently,” you sighed, watching as Mark read the note.

“Oh.” Mark handed the paper back to you then fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Well, I’m sure when he’s ready to reveal himself, he’ll tell you.”

“That’s not reassuring,” you deadpanned. “I want to ask everyone here right now if they're my secret admirer but what if I confront them and they’re too shy so they say it’s not them and the notes stop? Then I’ll have to graduate without knowing who the admirer is. It’s driving me crazy, I just want to know who it is, hell, I might even like him back, this is all just so annoying.”

“Trust me, you’ll know before graduating,” Mark smiled weakly.

“How are you so sure?”

“I just know."

The blue dress you wore yesterday looked so pretty on you. The colour brought out your eyes. I tried to tell you in person but the words didn’t come out. For now, I’ll just admire you on paper. I hope you have a good day today.

You reread the note over and over again, then you notice it.

The spelling of ‘color’ was in UK English and not American English which your school taught. You didn’t know anyone from the United Kingdom at this school. Could it be someone from Australia? They used mostly UK spelling but you didn’t know anyone from there so no. Could it be someone Canadian then? Canadians used a hybrid of American and UK English spelling to your knowledge so it was definitely plausible.

Come to think of it, some of your past notes had common words spelled differently from what you were used to too. You initially thought it was the cursive-like writing but then it hit you, it wasn’t misspelling it all, it was just the way Canadians spelled certain words.

“The secret admirer has to be Canadian don’t you think?” you asked Jaemin, leaning against your locker with your arms folded over your chest.

“It makes sense.” Jaemin reread the note again. “Well we know Jacob Bae, Keeho Yoon, Mark Lee. Kevin Moon. Who else?”

Could it be Jacob Bae? That didn’t make any sense since though you weren’t close to him at all. He also had the second lunch break. There was no way he could’ve known about your dislike for watermelon.

Keeho also had second lunch.

It couldn’t be Mark though right? He sat near you during lunch but there was no way he liked you back.

Maybe it was Kevin Moon?

You had Kevin in your musical theater class but you rarely talked to him. He was also close with your friends and sat at your lunch table. But could he really be the secret admirer? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look at you or care enough to start a conversation. He wasn’t a shy dude either, he just had tunnel vision, only talking with the people he was close with.

“Maybe it’s Kevin,” you confided to Jaemin. It had to be. If not, who else would it be?

After lunch, you pulled Kevin aside from the students rushing out of the cafeteria.

“Hey, so I know we don’t talk so this is a bit weird. I was just wondering if you were the one that has been putting these notes in my locker?” You pulled out the notes and showed him.

Kevin looked genuinely surprised. “Oh no, this wasn’t me. It does look like Mark’s handwriting though.”

You took the note back and examined it. “Do you really think so?”

"Yeah, I borrow his notes all the time and he writes his 'q's weird."

You nodded. “Thanks. Can you also do me a favor and not tell anyone about this?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Kevin said.

Later that day, you had economics with Mark. He sat beside you, being your only friend in this class.

“Can I borrow your notes?” you asked your friend, trying to see if the handwriting matched. “My handwriting is too messy and I forgot what the teacher had on the powerpoint yesterday.”

“Sure,” he handed his notebook to you, then went through his bag for his other supplies.

You hovered over him as he dug through his bag, trying to line up more similarities that would prove Mark was the secret admirer. You watched as he reached inside his pencil pouch for a pen then you saw it. The pink post-its. The ones the secret admirer used. Your mind stopped working for a bit. Mostly because you couldn’t believe it was actually him all along. And that he actually liked you back.

“Mark?” you muttered, brows furrowed.

You wanted to confront him. You really did. But then he looked at you with those soft eyes and you couldn’t. Your mouth opened then closed again.

Maybe it was just a coincidence?

He wasn't the only Canadian you knew and pink post-it notes were common. Right? You didn’t know what to think. When it came to Mark, you were always scared of crossing the line hence why he was just a school friend and not a close friend.

But then you thought about it. Your secret admirer seemed to like Spiderman. And Mark Lee loved Spiderman. He even dressed up as it for Halloween last year. The realization hit you like a truck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly as the bell rang.

“Nothing,” you smiled weakly. “Thank you for the notes, I appreciate it.”

“You still don’t know who the secret admirer is?” Chenle asked as you walked alongside him to the buses.

“I think it’s Mark,” you whispered.

Chenle dramatically covered his mouth in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah, his handwriting matches the one on the notes.” You began to tell him the whole story from beginning to end of how you found out that the secret admirer was Mark, not leaving out a single detail.

"Did you confront him yet?"

"No."

“Why not? You like him too."

“I don’t know, I guess I was starting to like the notes in my locker.” You sulked.

Chenle chortled. “Man, you're like a broken record. Him too.”

“Can you blame me— wait what? What do you mean him too?”

“You know what? I’ll just tell you since you already know. That poem your secret admirer wrote to you? The one where it said his friend suggested he write notes to you? That was me. I knew Mark liked you so I gave him a little push. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell him you liked him or anything.”

Chenle had to be kidding. He knew all along yet kept entertaining you as if he didn’t. Who knew he was such a good actor?

“I can’t believe you kept this from me! You knew who it was all along and just played dumb?!” You lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for being a good friend. Without my smart brain telling him to leave notes in your locker, you'd probably be crying right now just because you saw Mark talking to another girl.”

You lightly smacked his arm. "And that's exactly why I am not thanking you." It was just one time that you cried watching Mark attempting to flirt with a girl last year. And Chenle would never let you live it down.

Wanting to have some fun, you decided to be a secret admirer for Mark. You even disguised your handwriting and slipped the note into his locker during class to avoid suspicion.

The bell had just rang, and from afar, you watched as he opened the note then approached him.

“Looks like secret admirers are popular these days,” you said singsongly as you reached his locker.

Mark folded the note, then looked up at you. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What does it say?” There was a bright smile on your face as you watched how he seemed so confused.

“Nothing.” He tried to hide the note behind him, but you managed to snatch it anyway.

You look gorgeous today Mark. I wonder how we would look together. Have you thought about me lately? Because I couldn’t get you out of my head. Love, your secret admirer <3

“No way,” you beamed, “Who do you think is your secret admirer?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.” He frowned.

“Of course it does,” you teasing him. “It’s a lot of fun to guess who is writing to you. Imagine if it was a stranger talking about how good looking you are! Trust me, I spent all my free time just watching the people around me, hoping it wasn’t a creep saying he liked my clothing choices. It was thrilling!” you rambled in a sarcastic tone.

Mark looked tense, a bit guilty at that. “About that,” he sighed, hands running through his hair. “I know who your secret admirer is.”

“Mark, I know you’re my secret admirer,” you finally said, tired of dragging this on any longer.

"Oh." Mark looked so cute as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you liked me? Instead you watched as I stressed over who it was.”

“I’m sorry. I really never meant for it to get this far. I honestly thought you would’ve figured out it was me within the first week… Are you mad?”

“No, it was just annoying because I thought this guy was going through a lot of effort just to be rejected. But I’m glad it was you instead. You know how relieved I felt?”

“Relieved?”

“Yes, because I like you too Mark. And according to Chenle, you liked me too?”

“He told you?” He whined. The tips of his ears turned red too and he looked so cute flustered. “I can’t believe it, he promised me.”

“Well to be fair, I already knew before he told me. I guess I just liked knowing you were the one behind the notes so I wanted to pretend for a while longer.”

“So you’re really not mad at me?”

“No, I just wish you would’ve told me yourself. And by the way, that note you’re holding, I wrote that. I just disguised my handwriting.”

Mark relaxed as he looked at you with betrayal. “You’re so mean,” he pouted. “I thought it was from a stranger. It would’ve sucked to reject them.”

“Oh come on, you watched as I pulled my hair out trying to find out who my secret admirer was, and I’m the mean one? I just wanted to have some fun too.”

“What I did was cute and romantic, not revenge... I really didn’t mean for it to last for a whole month though”

“It is cute and romantic. Once I figured out that it was you and not some weirdo.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. Without the secret admirer thing, I don’t even know if we would have our feelings out right now. You’re too shy to say anything and I’m too awkward. So I guess we have Chenle to thank.”

“I guess so.” Mark smiled.

“How about we meddle with his lovelife too?” you beamed, eyes sparkling with mischief. It was time for payback. “You know how he likes that one girl in our first period? He’s always encouraging us to confess yet he’s even more hopeless than us. How about we give him a push too?”

“Oh I like that,” Mark smirked, impressed with how your mind worked. “Let’s do it.”

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vechter · 3 days

Note

Top 5 Dick and Bruce moments or things

it's gotta be what faith tells dick in JLA (1997) #73

just the implications of it all. how bruce recognizes he hurts people, whether its criminals or the people who have chosen to love him. but still. still. he is immensely and immeasurably proud of dick. he can never say it, he wouldn't know how to even begin to tell dick how much dick means to him. also the crazy thing- we all know dick is insane about bruce and how endlessly devoted he is to him. but bruce is equally insane about him in his own neurotic way. he puts dick on a pedestal (he is right to) but just how fucked up of him. bonus scene from the obsidian run (#76) that always makes me grin:

2. this one is from robin: year one (2000) #4

so bruce fired dick after two face nearly beat him to death with a bat and dick ran away and managed to end up joining a league of assassins vengeance school under this dude named shrike. i won't bore you with even more plot but something about this panel just kills me. they're both so lonely and desperate for each other's partnership. bruce knows he miscalculated firing dick even if it was for dick's safety- dick isn't going to stop being a vigilante just bc batman said so (bruce u fucking idiot) and i think this instance of firing, while glossed over later in favour of the whole two-face of it all did sth that changed their dynamic fundamentally and irrevocably. it is probably the catapult for all of dick's future doubts and insecurities about his role and place in bruce's life. meanwhile, bruce giving dick agency in what he wants to do next- he needs dick just as much as dick needs robin. it's incredibly sad because i think there is a part of bruce that believes dick is only coming back to be robin, a doubt furthered when dick eventually forms the titans and loses all semblance of a life outside the mask.

3. this one is from outsiders: five of a kind - nightwing/boomerang (2007)

basically, dick decided to hand over the outsiders to batman and this is owen boomerang, the son of the guy who killed tim's dad. this is post-adoption so dick is more secure in his role as bruce's son. and just sth about how dick won't stand for people criticizing bruce, even when he might be thinking unfavourably of bruce. bc he can do that. but other people? no dice. also the added angst from owen talking about his own dad and his own version of legacy. i like to think dick probably felt some type of way about owen yelling out 'he was my father' bc while dick probably hasn't ever verbalized that, he has probably felt similarly.

4. batman (1940) #636

bruce brooding over the past. little does he know his second son is back and ready to haunt him literally instead of metaphorically lol. but anyway, this always makes me froth at the mouth. both bruce and dick have a tendency to look back on those years very, very positively and something about how nostalgia warps your memories but also how much of it is nostalgia and how much is truth? bruce is forever living in the past. @nighhtwing summarizes one of bruce's core truths in their fic Hereditary beautifully: Bruce has lived with grief longer than he’s lived without. It’s easy, then, to mourn this moment even as it’s in front of him, alive.

5. basically all of the comic batman/nightwing: bloodborne (2002). one of the most stellar pieces of bruce and dick writing. the art's a little funky but the story is fantastic. the devotion dick has. it's debilitating, it could kill him. it should have (thinking about the blast dick took for bruce in infinite crisis and how it was supposed to have killed him). the same toxin and anti-toxin runs through their veins. something about the intimacy and inherent religious imagery and nature of sharing blood. but it isn't even a cursory thought to dick. of course he will put himself in death's way if it means being able to save bruce. dick's biggest fear: being unable to save bruce like bruce saved him all those years ago. the way it all takes place on the anniversary of his parents' death. fantastic, killer, devastating show-stopping even.

#I could add so many more but these are the best ones that affected me viscerally hope u enjoy my brain rot anon <3 #dick & bruce: you'll never recover from that kind of devotion #dick grayson #bruce wayne #asks

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 1 day

Text

tabula rasa

(an aziraphale pov poem)

(some projectful long poetry about good-omens-god i wrote a super long time ago that helped inspire this fic of mine, do you remember hanging up the stars. thanks @jacky-rubou for that one reply 🔥)

---

in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—that is what the humans know.

they tend to leave things out

because it makes it easier for them.

humans like easy.

its easier to praise the mother

than see the children.

its easier to say the skies are the heavens,

God knows all,

and lucifer was little more than a faulty wire.

they always forget the children

the ones with pale wings and burning crowns,

the playthings of the universe,

who know what it is to be.

to hold Time in their hands

to mold Matter like clay

and who know what it is

nothing.

it is simply Her’s;

Her children

Her heaven

Her earth

Her light.

i never knew if it was my place to correct them

with my golden rings and white linen.

i would think it’d be yours, wearing the ashy feathers and black ink

to say that it was not God who hung every speck in the skies,

but an engineer.

that it was not the divine,

but a brilliant mind not yet held by Time.

and even after the War,

the Fall,

the Beginning,

the Middle,

and even past the End,

it was you.

it was never not you.

innocent hands armed with only a book,

life,

and nothing.

six-thousand years, i said,

but they’re still here, as are we.

you may not have the priests, or the statues, or the murals,

but there are the astronomers, the satellites, and the starcharts.

in a God-loving world, that will have to be enough.

and so i ask you, likely not the last time,

do you remember hanging up the stars?

or will you let them erase you,

let them say Her ideas,

Her Plan,

Her love?

i wouldn’t blame you. you’ve said it before, and i don’t doubt you will again—

i know you.

that angel you knew was not me.

right.

as far as we know, they were Her’s.

Her heavens,

Her earth,

Her skies,

and Her stars.

(they will always forget hell. it is simply easier that way.)

---

alright snoozefest over. im tagging @fearandhatred because u were curious about the title for the fic and @crowleys-bentley-and-plants because you always tag me in poetry so im gonna do it back the one time i can 👉👈 hope you enjoyed!! also yes leanne, these themes will eventually be explored later on in the fic. its only a matter of time......

#this is a basic ass title but it fits!! a mind not yet imprinted by time or knowledge!!! I HAD TO!!!!#good omens #maniac poetry #aziraphale #crowley #(adjacent)#angel crowley #ineffable spouses #good omens poetry

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starwikia · 3 months

Text

suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am.

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT.

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

#warning: do not read this post if you want me to be nice to james somerton. i am extremely mean in this post.#before anyone accuses me of shit i legit never contacted him myself or anyone involved. i am someone who witnessed this behavior repeatedly #again. i hope hes alive and well. the fact is him lying about this WOULD BE THE IDEAL SITUATION. BC NO ONE SHOULD GO THROUGH THAT. but.#he HAS to forever be the victim in his eyes. attempting doesnt automatically mean youre free of sin.#its just terrible to see that regardless whether or not he did do it #its very clear his attempts to run away from his consequences are working on some people #we need to acknowledge that if your shitty ex friend can weaponize a threat to kill themselves #so can this internet person after being called out for horrendous shit #like what was the alterative? what were people supposed to fucking do? be nice about it?#yeah as if poc and trans women arent historically given shit for being 'too mean' about wanting justice.#this isnt just the plagiarism this is the fact a white dude has been parading himself as THE speaker for the gays(tm) but has been using hi #gayness to shield himself from his misogyny racism transphobia and antisemitism #its very clear regardless this means that ppl r going to side with him and then give him benefit of doubt #if you cant handle the heat stay out of the fucking kitchen dude. this is the consequences of your fucking actions.#hes a disgusting person who cant handle being told no so hes going to drag everyone down with him #like. idk this entire situation is frustrating to me.#its also frustrating ppl trying to be moral abt it like 'see! i knew this was bad all along!' no you didnt. shut it.#for the record im like mainly talking abt twit watching those spineless uwu cutesy ppl basically saying hes done noting wrong #oh and also alt righters who are clearly weaponinizing this where u know they wouldnt give a shit if a right ytber did this.#james somerton #idk might delete this later its just. ugh...

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