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#it’s a sad fic
arggghhhsstuff · 5 months
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forever obsessed with percy being weird. off-putting. strange even. a cryptid maybe. an urban legend if I may. my boy is the son of one of the oldest, most powerful gods, has been in FBI's records since the age of twelve, fought and won two wars against immortal beings, went to hell and back. I think he's allowed to be a little odd.
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fangirlsurpreme · 23 days
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Do you guys ever think,
when Percy dies, Grover will die at the same time. But unlike the others, they'll never be reunited in Elysium because Grover's a satyr who never get into Elysium, they turn into a tree.
And, if Annabeth is outlives Percy, she won't just grieve the love of her life but one of her best friends as well, one of the first people who believed in her, outside of luke and thalia.
One more thing, When Percy dies at least Annabeth will know she gets to see him again in Elysium but she'll also have to live with the knowledge that she'll never see Grover again even in death.
And if you don't want to think abt this, then:
Then don't think about her throwing away the collection of tin cans she and Percy probably kept for Grover.
Don't think about her using something from a tin can and thinking "I'll save this for Grover" and then realizing she'll never get to give it to him.
Don't think about her never being able to eat blue food or enchiladas again.
Don't think about her and Juniper holding each other and crying.
Don't think about Juniper momentarily hating Annabeth for getting to see her husband after she dies before forgetting all about her anger because they both lost their loves, damn it!
Don't think about Annabeth "Always Six Foot Ahead" Chase knowing death is approaching and making a list of what she wants to be burnt with so that she can give them to everyone who she has ever cared about. Adding "Tin Cans and Enchiladas" in the list before breaking down again.
Don't think abt Percy reaching Elysium, being greeted by all of his friends, looking around for grover before registering why he wasn't there.
Don't think about him mourning his best friend, his brother even when in Eternal Paradise.
Don't think about it.
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vastpotato · 7 months
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Love that tma is so traumatic constantly that we all gloss over the fact that Jon was kidnapped and forcibly moisturized while tied to a chair for a month.
Every time I think too hard about it it actually freaks me out. And Jon never talks about it again which also freaks me out
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fic-over-cannon · 4 months
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Jason Todd will cockblock himself if he thinks you can’t give 100% informed consent.
A few too many drinks at a gala and you’re drunkenly trying to make out with your gorgeous boyfriend. He’ll stop kissing you once he can taste the champagne on your lips, notices the glassy sheen to your eyes. Jason folds your roaming hands back into your lap and makes you promise to be good. He’ll take you home early and get some water into you before tucking you into bed. He’ll go so far as to sleep on the couch, door open to the bedroom so he can hear if you need him.
Jason remembers what Catherine looked like, coming off of a high and not remembering what day it was. The fear in her eyes and the shake in her voice when she asked if anyone else had been in the apartment.
Jason remembers the early days after the pit. When he’d wake up after blacking out in rage and not remember what his body had done. Seeing the blood on his skin and not knowing where it came from.
Jason never wants you to wake up with that same fearful not knowing. So he’ll sleep on the couch and make sure you’re safe. In the morning he’ll cook you breakfast and kiss you silly. But you’re going to have a talk, the two of you, once you’re sober enough to have a real conversation. Establish boundaries and plan consent for if you do want to fool around if one of you is impaired, or how you want to handle it if you don’t. But it’s not tomorrow yet, and Jason’s tired. He can sleep soundly though, knowing that nothing’s going to happen to you.
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casdeans-pie · 7 months
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Dean asks Cas to teach him Enochian.
So Cas teaches him Enochian.
They sit together in the bunker - chairs next to each other, elbow to elbow, books spread out around them, and Dean learns the language of the Angels from his own.
Dean makes quips about Cas being his teacher, and offhandedly asks what he can possibly do to get extra credit.... Cas looks at him with complete and utter incomprehension while Dean has an internal meltdown at how that came out without meaning it to.
Dean's actually very focused when he has a goal - so he studies and he reads and he's genuinely a good student. He practices his pronunciation (which Cas has said 'is fine' but said it with the expression of someone in pain, so he knows it sucks) while he's cooking or in the shower, and Sam remarks more than once how Dean could have gone to college.
Dean still gets frustrated when he can't remember a certain word too many times, or can't wrap his head around a specific turn of phrase, but he also kind of loves it when he says something and Cas smiles with amusement at what he's said. It dawns on him that he's the one speaking strangely in Cas's language now, instead of the other way around.
The first time Dean speaks in almost fluent conversational Enochian he is so proud and pleased but Cas looks like hes going to throw up, and Dean thinks he must have got something wrong again. He doesn't know that Cas is having to physically hold himself back from immediately exiting his vessel and shattering every window in Lebanon with the force of his joy.
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tarabyte3 · 2 months
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Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.
It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.
It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.
We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.
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cute-sucker · 5 days
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EX HUSBAND RAFE HEADCANONS !!
ex-husband!rafe will continuously come to your house telling you it's only to check up on your baby girl
ex-husband!rafe will catch himself calling you sweetheart and honey, and them stop himself before it gets out of hand, iching his head and tilting his head in that endearing way
ex-husband!rafe is in tune with your cycle, and you swear the man knows the exact day to send you chocolate and sweet things to handle your sweet tooth
ex-husband!rafe will sleep on the couch with a sheepish smile, but then will soon later join you in your bed, cradling you in the way that made your breath catch whispering "what's the master bed for then, huh?"
ex-husband!rafe will know everything about your dating life/borderline which may seen creepy but somehow you know it's for your health and somehow you understand it all
ex-husband!rafe will let the goddamn pretentious expensive preschool know that his daughter is worth the world and the last thing they want to do is piss the cameron's off
ex-husband!rafe would find himself desperately cracking an inside in an attempt to reminisce about times before your split
ex-husband!rafe will still introduce you as his wife in business outings, a sharp smile on his face while his hand wanders possessively low at the small part of your back, and sometimes you liked how he took stake of what was his
ex-husband!rafe would always attend school events for their daughter, cheering their daughter at the soccer match, and making decisions over coffee
ex-husband!rafe would have you a new bouquet every single time he comes to your house- almost as if to make up for every single one he didn't give you when the two of you were together
ex-husband!rafe still glances at you in that way where dull sparks travel up into your heart, and you feel the testament of time and the feeling that you would never forget the imprint he has on your mind
ex-husband!rafe always compliments you, and sometimes he kisses your forehead, and when you're crying too hard he bundles you in his arms and tells you everything
ex-husband!rafe watches cheesy romance movies with you, both of your legs entwined, and he watches you during those rom coms all teary eyed and telling him it was the best time for romance
ex-husband!rafe lets you know everything that happens in his life, if it's for a little chat or a ride in his car- and his car? he still drives you everywhere. who knows the types of sickos there are in the world? that's what he says to say as he rants furiously
ex-husband!rafe is still the first emergency contact in your phone, and when you get in trouble - he's running to you, arms open to cradle you in his warmth. he always knows how to handle the situation
ex-husband!rafe starts baking for you, and sometimes he leaves a few cupcakes or muffins every single he comes. at this point you feel the sudden urge to grab his face and kiss him every single time he cheekily leaves more loafs of bread for you
ex-husband!rafe loves your daughter and you to the moon and back, and he calls the two of you, "his girls," and you swear sometimes you feel your heart break when you see the wary look on his face
ex-husband!rafe always avoids the question regarding why you split up, because he sees the way hot tears well up in your eyes, and the way your hands shake underneath the table and the last time a bastard asked that question--rafe almost punched him in the face
ex-husband!rafe curses himself every single day for signing those papers and letting the best goddamn thing he ever had go.
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westruun · 7 months
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You have given me everything.
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nadvs · 2 months
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cam girl (part ten)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.
You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.
You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.
But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.
You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.
With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.
You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.
Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.
Rafe: dont joke like that
Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?
He sends you $100.
You reply: something like that :)
You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: when can i come over?
You smile at your phone.
You: what about our cam session?
You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.
You’d do it all for free.
Rafe: i won’t wait that long
Not just can’t. He won’t.
You reply: like 8ish?
Rafe: ok
It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.
“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.
He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.
Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.
“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.
His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?
You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.
It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.
“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”
“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.
“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.
“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”
“You first,” he says.
“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”
“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.
You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.
“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”
Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.
“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.
“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”
He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.
“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.
Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.
“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.
Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.
“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.
“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”
You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.
“Spread your legs,” he orders.
The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.
You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.
“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.
“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.
“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.
“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.
He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.
Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.
“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.
When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.
“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.
Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.
“What hurts?”
“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”
“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.
“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”
“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”
“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.
“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.
Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.
You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.
“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.
Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.
He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.
“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.
“Have an open mind, okay?”
“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.
You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.
When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.
“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.
“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”
Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.
“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”
He clears his throat.
“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.
“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”
You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”
“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.
“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.
“You don’t have to do it.”
“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.
Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.
Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.
Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.
You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.
Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.
“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.
“How’s it feel?” you ask.
“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”
You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.
You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.
In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.
The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.
Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.
“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.
“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.
“What else is huge?” he asks.
“Your ego.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs.
“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.
“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”
You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.
You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.
You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.
You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.
When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.
Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.
He pulls out, still dripping.
“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.
“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?
“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”
He shakes his head in response.
You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.
Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.
You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.
bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol
A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.
Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.
You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.
At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.
Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.
“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”
You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.
“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.
“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.
“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.
You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.
“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”
You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.
Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.
“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.
“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.
He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.
You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.
After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.
You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.
It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.
Rafe: princessssssdsssss
You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?
Rafe: ur mean
Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol
Yeah. He’s plastered.
Rafe: ans you have cutehands
Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke
You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.
You reply: i think someone’s drunk…
Rafe: yes iam
Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool
You: what do you want to do with me?
You get an alert that he sent you $69.
Rafe: that
Rafe: looool
Sex. Of course.
You: are you going to make me do every position?
Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it
You: true…
Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about
Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.
You: oh only lowkey. cool
Rafe: don’t be maddd
You: i’m pissed
Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)
You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.
You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?
Rafe: YES
Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol
You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep
Rafe: you need this dick
You: omg
Rafe: do you likw this skng
Rafe: song
You: ??? what song
You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.
Rafe: irs good
Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance
You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight
You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.
You: sorry i was mean
He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.
Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.
You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.
When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.
There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.
So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.
You won’t close your eyes.
You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.
The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.
When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.
It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.
{ read part eleven here }
author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!
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jedi-starbird · 3 months
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Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.
like before Bandomeer?
The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.
"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.
Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.
'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.
"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.
"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.
after Naboo?
Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.
Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.
This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.
the Clone Wars?
The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.
Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)
The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.
"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"
"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"
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jztr-77 · 1 month
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nap time with the cocoa puffs
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witchinatree · 3 months
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i'd like to add on to my surprisingly popular magnus protocol theory, i don't think you all understand how devestating this truly is for jon and martin
jonathan "refuse to become another goddamn mystery" sims is now the mysterious text to speech glitch on an old ass computer
martin "not lonely anymore" blackwood is now (possibly) completely alone for an unknown amount of time, unaware that his boyfriend is right there with him
we all wanted the "jonathan blackwood, actually" moment and instead we don't even know if they know they're together
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sentient-stove · 4 months
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“Clockwork, give me strength to break up with my boyfriend.”
“Daniel, that’s not in my wheelhouse.”
Danny shrieked at the response, clearly not expecting an answer considering he’d been standing alone in the room moments earlier. He wrenched back, door handle snapping off into his palm and then his legs caught the abandoned backpack on the floor, sending him to the ground with a thump.
Turns out, landing on a weeks worth of abandoned homework and textbooks in a cramped dorm room genuinely hurt. Danny lay there for a moment, staring at the glo in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling and wondered if he should maybe just give up for the day and crawl back into bed.
“Clockwork! Warn a dude next time!”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes! No! Yea— Can I be honest? I’m gonna be honest- I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”
“You specifically requested my help. Why are you breaking up with the Drake boy, the timelines are still intact.”
“I can’t do class, vigilante-around and date my hyperaware and paranoid boyfriend at the same time. Dating happens to be the one I can cut out. I already held a funeral for my social life.”
“A funeral for— I’m sure that there’s other solutions here.” For as confused as the ghost sounded, he sure was taking it in stride. Danny liked that about Clockwork, guy really just went with the flow and nodded along to any gossip Danny brought over. Or summoned in in this case apparently.
“Will the space time continuum collapse if I break up with Tim?”
“…No.”
“Cool, then I’m doing it. I might not even cry a little.”
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dat1angel · 10 months
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Danny the tiktok star
DPxDC au
So Danny, as any high school teen would do, makes videos on the latest video sharing social media site. In this case that's tiktok, although if we look at the time that Danny Phantom came out Vine might be more appropriate...
Either way, he makes silly little videos that range from funny jokes, A Day in the Life at Casper High, Space Fact Friday, POV: You live in Amity Park, roasting whatever ghost happens to be attacking that day, ect. He gains a small following of people who like his content but it's nowhere near being able at call himself tiktok famous. Until one post...
"Hello, my name is Danny, and this is my Official Application for Bruce Wayne to adopt me"
He jokes about how he is a young teen male with black hair, blue eyes, and a questionable home life which makes him the perfect candidate for a Bruce Wayne adoptee. The video goes viral so Danny leans into the bit and starts making more of that content. Photoshoping myself into a Wayne family photo, What I would wear to a Wayne gala, Taking a 'Which Wayne Are You' quiz.
When the Wayne kids find his account they think it's hilarious and keep an eye for new posts from him. One day Tim is stuck in a boring WE meeting so when he gets a notification that Danny posted a new video he will gladly take the distraction. He wasn't expect what he would find...
The video opens with the camera facing Danny, but he's not in any of his usual filming locations. It's hard to tell what exactly is happening around him but there's shouting in the distance and the sound of sirens. In fact, it looks as if Danny is leaning against an ambulance. Danny looks unusually pale and has what looks like a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The camera is shakey and when he speaks his voice comes out weak.
"Hey guys... It's Danny. You know how I joke a lot about being adopted by Bruce Wayne?..."
Danny pauses and takes a shakey breath. It seems like he loses his grip on the phone for a moment because the camera fumbles before being held upright again. It's not a great view, but viewers can catch a glimpse of a destroyed building in the background, firefighters still working to get all the flames doused. When Danny starts speaking again he seems to choke on the words.
"W-Well, something happened and.. I'm k-kinda and orphan now? So uh..." Danny gives a small sad sounding chuckle that fades into a light cough, "this is my official application for Bruce Wayne to adopt me. Internet, do your thing..."
The video ends.
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waveridden · 2 months
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weird day to have been an rt fan several years ago
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gardnhee · 1 month
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faint memories - zuko
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୨୧- tw/content. angst with a pinch of fluff, intentional lowercase, not proofread, little cursing here and there.
୨୧- zuko x afab!reader
୨୧- note. this applies to both animated and live action zuko!! requested by my baby @lovlyrickyyy 🤍
୨୧- dividers by @plutism !
୨୧- wc. 1.2k
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“stop…moving!” you grit, holding zuko’s face as he glares at you, small wince erupting from his throat.
“how do you expect me-“ he hisses, hands instinctively flying up to get a hold of your wrists. “to not move when there’s this huge fucking burn on my face!” zuko retorts, grip tightening on you. you sigh, heart dropping as you no longer see that glint in his eyes. the glint that is now replaced with sadness, pain, suffering.
zuko’s chambers grew dead silent, no more arguing, no more disagreeing from you or him. just silence.
a small smile spread on his face as he now caressed your wrist with his thumb, pressing a small kiss to it, “i’m sorry for grabbing so hard.” this made your head perk up, blush spreading across your cheeks. you shake your head, “i understand.” the room goes silent again.
only thing that could be heard were the faint yells of the firebenders training outside and the mouse like footsteps of whoever passed by the unnecessarily and stupidly huge doors.
you kept applying the ointment onto zuko’s wound, sitting back with a small huff to examine him. to you, even with that huge scar on his face, he’s still as handsome as ever. you noticed how he tried to hide it from you, looking down at his trembling hands as the events from earlier are still fresh in his mind.
he slumped back on the bed, eliciting a whine of disapproval - you weren’t done tending to him. zuko ignores this as he just lays there, gazing up at his tall ceiling with a blank stare.
you knew him all too well, which means you also knew he was hiding something. refraining himself from talking. you hated it.
“zuko-?” you started as his body jerked up from the wine red sheets.
“i’m getting exiled.” he didn’t let you speak, words crawling up his throat as he was unable to hold them back.
you felt as if all air had been knocked out of your lungs, like a punch to the gut. your chest heaved, eyes squinting and eyebrows knitting together.
“w-what?” it’s not that you didn’t hear, in fact zuko’s words unfortunately fell on very perceptive ears.
“i’m-“
“you’re joking, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, fading into nothing as his eyes saddened. “i’m sorry.” was all he could muster. you frantically shook your head, disgusted that he felt forced to apologize for something he had no control over.
“how long?”
zuko hummed, eyes spaced out somewhere, looking everywhere but at you. you bit your lip, kneeling towards him, cold and shaky hands cupping his cheeks.
“stop avoiding and answer me, zuko. how long?”
zuko’s eyes peeled away from wherever he was previously glancing at, “however long it takes.” he mumbles and you frown, “what do you even mean by that.” you sigh, sitting back in defeat as you run your fingers through your hair.
“until i catch the avatar.”
you scoffed, “that’s fucking ridiculous.” zuko agreed silently, but that wasn’t enough for you. nowhere near, actually.
“i’m going to speak to your father.” you stand, making him stand with you, eyes wide and pupils blown.
“you can’t, yn.” he reaches for you in vain as you yank your hand back. “don’t try to stop me, zuko.” you were beyond pissed, tone dripping venom as zuko stood in front of you, obstructing your way to the door.
“move, goddamnit!” you hit his chest repeatedly, each strike more desperate than the last. “how are you just…okay with this?” you sobbed, forehead propped against his chest, his arms falling beside him, stiff as a statue.
“what more can i do?”
he made a good point, so good that it shushed you with a slap to the face.
“i’m leaving.”
“yn please wait-“
“im. leaving.” your lip quivered, voice shaky, eyes watery. zuko nodded, moving back to his bed, sitting on the edge.
you made your way to the bed as well, grabbing the ointment and placing it back on the metal tray.
“i hope to see you again, yn.” he murmured, back facing you as you stayed quiet, not wanting to entertain the idea of him leaving. sadly, it doesn’t matter if you entertain said idea or not, it’s happening anyway.
the moment you stepped out the door, that was it, even the hope of ever seeing him again started to dissipate.
by this point you were halfway down the dim hallway, ready to turn the corner back to the servant’s quarters. you looked back, guards standing proud and tall outside the prince’s room. you bit your lip, gazing down at the cold tray in your hands, caressing it with your index finger.
after taking a deep breath and preparing yourself for a life without your first love, you walk off, never to hear from zuko again.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“fucking hell!” zuko groaned as the memory made an unwanted visit for the nth time this week, standing from his cot like bed. he looked outside the small ship window, eyes landing on an endless ocean, stretching far and wide, separating him from you.
it’s been 3 years since zuko had the pleasure of laying eyes upon you. your pouty lips - which he longed to kiss - sparkling eyes, and beaming smile, he missed it all; every single second of it.
he made it his mission to capture the avatar, whatever it took, zuko will bring him before his father and finally get to feel your embrace again.
the fact that he didn’t seize the opportunity to confess, to tell you just how much he loves you - vocalize the burning desire to make you his partner - was eating at him from the inside out.
zuko paces around the room, breathing heavily as he grows anxious. his patience is running thin and he doesn’t know how much longer he can stay civil.
with three curt knocks zuko turns, uttering a ‘come in’ as his mind was somewhere else. a soldier walks in, with a small bow of his head, he exclaims, “we’ve found the avatar, sir!” this made zuko’s face brighten, nails no longer trapped between teeth.
“where?” the prince breathed, unspoken urgency in his voice. “here in the south pole, sir.” he raised a brow, “how far?” “close by, approximately 2 nautical miles.” despite his shocked expression, zuko was elated.
“good job.” was all zuko said before strolling out his suffocating room. his palms grew sweaty, his heart hammered against his chest. he simply couldn’t contain himself.
he will see you again.
oh, he’s just imagining it; walking up behind you and surprising you, indulging in your warm laugh, welcoming eyes, and safe presence.
this is something he simply won’t - can’t - pass. zuko has the target within reach and he’s going to hold on tight, so tight the avatar will have no choice but to turn himself in.
a way one ticket, an opportunity peeking its face through the blur that is his life.
no matter the circumstance, he will not miss or give up - no, he’s coming home to you, forever this time.
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© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms
୨୧ - hope you liked it!! this is kinda rushed so im sorry if there’s any spelling errors :( please like, comment, and reblog. would be highly appreciated 🫶.
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