#punched me right in the abandonment issues

[thebirdandhersong]

Just started TLJ for fun because it was a Long Day and I wanted some form of distraction that didn't involve the current Ghost Crew kinda high stakes episode I was halfway through and I must say..... this is so strange to me

#the brief scenes with paige just gutted me #you know that post about the unnamed servant in king lear (i THINK it's king lear at least) that has that cs lewis quote #that's paige. like. that's literally her that's her role in the story that's what she chooses to do and that's why #poe's Personally Sanctioned mission to destroy the dreadnought or whatever it's called succeeds. it's because of her #not gonna lie i wish we saw more of her!!!!! #anyhow there are a lot of things that were little gems. like our intro to rose is her sitting alone in an empty space sobbing #because she lost her sister as she's clutching the matching necklace. that was a really good bit #and finn being like. WHERE'S REY. HOW CAN SHE GET TO US IN THIS CHAOS. #and the sheer intensity of rage from kylo ren #unlike many of my fellow tumblr girlies (please don't burn me at the stake for this) i don't find adam driver very attractive and am a bit #puzzled as to what makes people like him So Much (mentally i'm like ???? which is my reaction to timothee chalamet enthusiasm too) #but i can give him one thing. he's absolutely terrifying. the intensity and sheer out of control FORCE of his anger terrifies ME #probably on the same level as hayden's anakin does tbh #i jumped a little when he punched the elevator wall. that man has got Deep Seated Issues that he REALLY needs to work out at this point #there are also bits of this movie that REALLY confuzzle me #like leia's force hovering through space (????) and poe's anger/control/defiance (??????????) #and also LUKE GIVING UP????? i was like. well the video essay peeps on youtube were right about THIS bit being #the Worst Part Thus Far. a luke skywalker abandoning hope is a luke skywalker i'm struggling to recognize #anyhow more thoughts incoming...... class has started and media analysis brain is on #is it EVER OFF THOUGH LOL #tlj liveblog

[spookysteddie]

Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life. 

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him. 

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner. 

You. 

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl. 

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!” 

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him. 

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry. 

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face. 

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming. 

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record. 

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right. 

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.” 

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind. 

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction. 

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.” 

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.” 

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four. 

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing. 

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around. 

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!” 

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.” 

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!” 

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger. 

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes. 

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.” 

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.” 

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak. 

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.” 

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.” 

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him. 

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.” 

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes. 

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?” 

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door. 

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?” 

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?” 

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.” 

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects. 

… 

You were right. 

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend. 

Nothing. 

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home? 

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good. 

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him. 

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose. 

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?” 

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.” 

You sniffle, “is it just your face?” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.” 

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.” 

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?” 

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots. 

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.” 

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain. 

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.”  You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. 

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one. 

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline. 

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. 

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say. 

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple. 

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.” 

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. 

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him. 

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years. 

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?” 

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster. 

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.” 

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.” 

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs. 

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest. 

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly. 

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them. 

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.” 

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.” 

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.” 

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. 

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared. 

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you. 

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.” 

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in. 

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him. 

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure. 

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.” 

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further. 

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy. 

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers. 

“P-please. Gator please.” 

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” 

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.” 

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!” 

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.” 

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely. 

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely. 

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you. 

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.” 

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight. 

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.” 

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both. 

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.” 

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter. 

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…” 

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.  

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him. 

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.” 

It’s all you need to fall into bliss. 

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down. 

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you. 

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.” 

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?” 

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.” 

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.” 

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

#gator tillman fargo #Gator Tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo fanfic #Gator Tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery #joe keery fargo

[xjustakay]

✺ (3/2) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: pool — 925 words

Regulus is sure he’s being unbearably obvious, but he’s three drinks past the point of maintaining his usual carefulness.

He hadn’t even wanted to come to this stupid ‘goodbye’ party. It was Sirius’ idea —a ‘send off’ even though all he’s doing is moving out of his and James’ place to move in with Remus instead. Any excuse for the lot of them to be obnoxious with their friends, evidently.

All of Regulus’ own friends have abandoned him. Pandora is glued to Lily’s side. Dorcas is chatting with Mary, Alice, and Frank. Barty and Evan made an appearance for free booze before mysteriously disappearing somewhere they probably shouldn’t be in a home that’s not theirs.

The point is, they’ve all left Regulus alone. Alone and just shy of fully drunk, staring glassy-eyed across the room. Or, rather, at a specific someone that’s there.

James and Marlene are on opposite sides of the pool table in the corner. They’ve been playing for the last twenty minutes, and Regulus has been watching from where he leans against the wall a handful of feet away for every one of them.

He’s gone seemingly unnoticed until he catches McKinnon’s eye as she steps out of James’ way so he can line up a shot. 

She quirks one light brow at him, the corner of her mouth ticking upward. She says something to James, but Regulus can’t hear it between the music, chatter, and distance between them.

When his eyes land on James again, they widen a fraction. Because James —half-bent over the table’s edge with his pool cue stick poised perfectly— is already looking back, a knowing grin stretched across his face. He doesn’t look away even as he takes his next shot.

It really shouldn’t be so attractive. It should not make Regulus feel like his knees can’t do their job suddenly, like there’s warmth pooling low in his stomach.

And yet.

God damn it.

He needs to be more drunk. Immediately. 

The issue with needing another drink is that he’d have to walk right by the pool table in order to get to the kitchen. He could make a break for it, maybe. Could take the long way around the back of the two couches, slink past people who he’s otherwise avoided up until this point.

James must have won the current game with his shot, if the way Marlene playfully punches at his shoulder is any indication. It offers Regulus an opening a moment later; Marlene is putting up her own stick, walking away to find her girlfriend, and James is distracted recollecting the balls from the pockets they’d sunk into to rerack them in the center of the table.

Regulus hurries, he does. He intentionally tries to be as fast as he can without calling too much attention to himself. Still, it doesn’t end up being enough.

“Do you want to play with me, Reg?” James calls over to him.

Regulus freezes, eyes widening slightly once again before he does his best to school his features. He swivels James’ direction, met with a smirk immediately. James knows exactly what he’s just said, it’s clear by the smug look on his face.

“What?” He wants to be embarrassed by the way the single syllable squeaks out his mouth, but. Three drinks too many, and all.

“Do you want to play with me?” Mischief shines bright in hazel eyes that flicker down then back up over where Regulus stands. When Regulus fails to be able to make his brain function enough to form words, James sweeps a hand toward the table in front of him. “Have you ever played pool before?”

“Yeah, I do— Have. I have.” Regulus grimaces faintly. That damn smirk has him squeezing his hands into fists at his sides. “Sirius showed me once. Doesn’t really interest me much.”

“No?” James cocks his head to the side, his amusement unrelenting. “Weird. I just thought since you were watching so intently you must be interested.”

Regulus’ cheeks burn and he prays momentarily for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “I wasn’t watching you.”

James’ lips twitch further. “Didn’t say you were.”

“Well… good,” Regulus huffs. He goes to continue on his way to the kitchen, but doesn’t make it far.

“It’d be alright if you were.” James stares levelly at him when Regulus freezes a second time and slowly turns back to him. “Interested, I mean.”

Now, Regulus is on his way to drunk, yes, which maybe has shattered his inhibitions or his ability to think quite straight, but he’s definitely not stupid. He knows the game has changed, like the flip of a switch. It’s not pool that they’re talking about anymore, just like that.

Eyeing James carefully, Regulus braves a step nearer to the edge of the table that stands between them.

“And if I was?” He asks.

James sets his cue stick aside and comes around the end of the pool table. Regulus’ head tilts back a little as he comes close enough for the difference in their heights to be apparent. He hates that even that makes him feel something he’d typically ignore.

One hand pressed into the table’s edge closest to Regulus’ hip, James lets his gaze dart over his face, his lips curling upward again. Regulus feels the quickened beat of his heart in his throat, even as he lifts one dark brow in further question.

James smiles at him, bright, easy, and far, far too lovely. “Works out for me, seeing as I’m interested, too.”

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #microfic’ing to fight writers block heyyy lol #also i had a Vision of james playing pool that made me want to bite something so here we are #they’re silly and flirty and i love them #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

[2kiran]

“THE STARS LEAKED, BUT NEVER GOT FAR”

pairing könig x reader genre smut. angst reader is a male. dom!reader x sub!könig cw lowercase typing. könig is sad. hurt/comfort. abandonment issues. google translated german. handjob. pet names. anal sex. gentle sex.

after a close call in a mission, könig won’t leave you alone.

the moonlit sky’s light cascaded to your window, shattering the shadows that filled your room. it was late, clock reading 02:00. you couldn’t sleep, your injury from the mission earlier made your body suffer and system awake. you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling.

a knock broke the silence, awakening you further from your conscious slumber. you stood up, limbs aching from how stiff they were. “hello?” you yawn, rubbing your eyes with your free hand as you opened the door with the other. there stood könig. his eyes barely peeked through your door, his tall stature having him bend down to see you. “könig? what are you doing here?”

he fidgeted with his hands, nervousness seeping into his posture. “can i come in?” he asked cautiously. you moved to the side to allow him to enter your small room. you gestured for him to sit down with you on your bed. “anythin’ wrong?” concern evident in your face and tone, it was unlike for könig to come into your room at the dead of night. “i’m just-” then he snapped, voice wobbly and tears pouring from his eyes. alarms blared in your head.

“könig?! why? did something happen?” you made him face you, left hand on his shoulder and your right holding one of his. “i’m- i’m scared of lo...losing you.” he said in between his stutters, more tears cascading as the words left his mouth. you’re surprised at his outburst. you didn’t expect that he, your colonel, would be this afraid of you gone. your injury must have awfully terrified him.

you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “you won’t lose me.” you said. “what- what if it had been worse? i can’t b-bear the thought of you... d-dying. you s-scared me,” his accent became apparent through his sobs, “i can’t- you should’ve listened to me!” a weak not-so yell, his hand lightly punching your shoulder. “i know, i’m sorry.” a small smile spread across your lips, he cared for you.

“d-don’t do that again,” he hiccups, “they c-could’ve killed you a-and i wouldn’t have b-been... a-able to do anything about it.” more tears, “i can’t... i can’t lose anyone else, especially n-not you.” his hood was stained with his tears. “i won’t.” you pulled him into a hug, his head on your chest. he sobbed more loudly now. he squeezed you, an assurance to himself that you were real. you grunted in pain, he squeezed you a little too hard.

he suddenly freezed, sobs weakening. this made you confused, you looked down at him and shifted yourself in a more comfortable position. something bumped your inner thigh and you became frozen. könig wanted to cry even harder and run away out of embarrassment, but you kept him caged in with your hug. “are you...?” you carefully questioned, making sure your tone didn’t sound judgmental. “m sorry, ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to-” you cut him off, “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you rubbed your hand up and down his back to soothe him. “do you want me to help you?” you mentally slapped yourself in your head, he wanted to vent out his feelings and scold you for disobeying, not have sex with you!

he weakly nodded, pulling you impossibly closer. “lay back for me?” he obliged with your request, “on your elbows.” there he lay, using his elbows for support to be able to properly look at you. you intertwined your fingers with his, kissing his gloved knuckles.

he lifted his mask above his nose, revealing the bottom part of his face to you. a scar littered his jaw, fair skin and crooked nose exposed to you. pink, full lips with a perfect cupid’s bow parted just for you.

you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “you’re beautiful.” his eyes sparked at your compliment, a blush forming on his cheeks. “d-danke.” (thanks) he hiccuped.

you kiss his jaw, lips tracing to his neck down to his collarbone. könig whined impatiently, troubled hands grabbing your shirt’s collar and pulling you into a kiss. you tug at his closed mouth and he parted his lips in response, allowing your tongue to enter. your tongue fought with his, a moan leaving him.

a thin trail of saliva connected your mouth to his as you pulled away to breathe. he cried for more, and you can’t deny him no longer.

“könig.” his name leaves you breathlessly, “do you want to take it further?” before you were finished speaking those words, he nodded eagerly. “please.” he pleaded not only with his voice, but with his eyes too. you kiss him once, before you slip your fingers into his pants and pull them down along with his boxers. his cock practically begged for attention, your attention.

you sat on your knees on the bed and you grabbed his knees, letting his legs rest on your waist and manuevering him to reveal his hole to you. he was... wet?

you didn’t intend to stare, but him hiding behind his hands made it evident that it seemed that way. “i- i prepared myself... earlier. i mean- i didn’t plan on doing this with you! i just... you were on my mind before i... es tut mir leid.” (i’m sorry) he rambled, tumbling over his own words. you rubbed his hip.

“hey, it’s okay. i don’t mind that.” you shushed him, beginning to stroke his cock. he bucked his hips up at the sensation. you pulled your pants and boxers down, revealing your own aching one. he seemed impressed at your size, because his eyes widened at the sight. “you think... it’ll fit?”

his tone was uncertain but his eyes glinted in excitement. the corners of your lips threatened to curl upwards in a form of a smile. “i’ll make it fit.” with that, you inched yourself inside his hole. taking it slowly for him to be able to adjust.

“ah, scheiße.” (ah, fuck) he gripped the sheets below him. he was big himself, about 10 inches. a lot of people assumed he was born with his height to make up for what was in between his legs, but they were so fucking wrong. you were now inside of him down to the hilt. you noticed that könig began to sweat. “relax, sweetheart.” you attempted to calm him down.

“b-bitte bewegen.” (please move) he wiggled his hips impatiently, and you took that as your cue. you pulled back until only the tip of your cock was inside, and you suddenly thrusted in. “mmf– mein gott...” (my god) he moaned. he wasn’t completely over his worries, so you fucked him gently to soothe his overwhelming thoughts. “wait... your injury– nng!” you stroked his cock, synchronizing it with your thrusts. “i’m fine.” you assure.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” he grabbed your wrist almost in protest. “könig, i wouldn’t be doing this with you if it hurt me.” you replied. he was so cute. his lips trembled as he twitched.

you dragged your cock against his walls, finding his sweet spot soon after. your hips followed a steady rhythm. he really was a sight. a star whom leaked tears for you, one who traces after your being and does not stay too far away. one who will forever refuse to leave you alone. he longs after your presence, just as much as you long for his. it’s like you were made to be together, a reflection of one another.

“mein liebling, ich bin nah dran.” (my darling, i’m close) he gasped as you repeatedly hit his prostate, not giving him any rest. a few more thrusts, he came. his cum flowed in between your fingers. you weren’t quite there, yet. “schatz, i- nngh. h-harder.” (treasure) you thrusted just a little harder as he requested, friction increasing as he whined louder. his words were mixed in german and english. you marveled over the fact that you broke him enough until he couldn’t speak a comprehensive thought in one language. he began to meet with your thrusts, his thighs shook with every movement.

he adored you with every single fiber of his soul. if this was a dream, he’d rather be in his slumber forever. it’s selfish, he knows that, but with every kiss and word dedicated to him he refuses to let you go. “hngh– please tell me you won’t.. ah! leave me.” he begged, his hands now on your forearms. “i won’t, i won’t leave you.” you groaned as you got closer to the edge. “don’t d...do that again” he whimpered, “mhm, i won’t, könig. ‘m sorry. where y’want it?” you rushed your words out, nearly reaching your peak. he was going to cum again too.

“in me. fuuck, feel s-so good. bitte, hör nicht auf. ich brauche dich so sehr, nngh!” (please, don’t stop. i need you so bad) he whined, you came inside of him and it triggered his. as the last few spurts left you both, you laid on top of him, not quite leaning your full weight on him. you panted, feeling your cum leaking from his hole down to your softening cock.

“feel better?” you ask, a lazy smile forming on your mouth. he hummed in agreement, “stay with me for a while, mein schatz.” (my sweetheart)

masterlist

#— azrael.worksᵎᵎ #➷ ┊antonio’s works ! #male reader #sub könig #call of duty #cod smut #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #gentle sex #könig #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #cod mw x reader #cod mwii #mw2 fanfic #mwii

[frenchkisstheabyss]

7 Psychopaths: Seonghwa

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!seonghwa x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, some moments of deep/hard sex w/ scratching, sex in the desert cause danger is fun, pet names (baby), Hwa likes to talk dirty, fire, side character death via said fire, blood, teeth pulling w/ pliers, mini-explosion, a punch gets thrown, a lil enemies to lovers, strong language, tried to cover it all but lmk if anything's missing!

x A/N: This is #4 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Wooyoung | Next Psychopath: Soobin | OR Start From The Beginning

The average adult has 32 teeth. 28 if they’ve had their wisdom teeth taken out. Seonghwa shoves a pair of pliers into the mouth of the man he has tied up in the trunk of a car, clamping the metal jaws around the first molar on the right side. The man’s screams are agonizing, his wrists and ankles fighting against the frayed rope as the root tears out of place. Seonghwa holds it in the red glow of the taillights, ignoring the blood soaked cries of his present company.

“You really should brush your teeth more'' he frowns, noting the plaque buildup on the bloody tooth before tossing it aside. “Don’t worry though. Once I’m done you won’t have any left to brush.” Seonghwa grabs him by the neck, shoving the pliers into his mouth as a mixture of spit and blood drips down the man’s chin. Gripping the next tooth in line, he rips it out much easier than the last and the screaming continues. 2 down, 30 to go.

If they were somewhere in the city Seonghwa might've done something to quiet him down. Duct tape his mouth shut. Shove a sock in there. But this is the desert, the absolute middle of nowhere, during a time when even the sun has abandoned them. There are no people for miles in either direction and any encounter with the other living creatures that stalk the desert night is sure to end in this man's death. Make no mistake. He will die either way but first, there’s business to attend to.

“You have the misfortune of having a lot of teeth,” Seonghwa grins, waving the pliers around with tooth number 4 wedged between metal, “Fortunately, I don’t have a lot of time so why don’t you tell me what I wanna know and we can go our separate ways.” “You…you’re gonna let me go?” the man blubbers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Of course, I will.” A lie. “Don’t fuck with me, man!” “I’m not fucking with you.” Another lie. Seonghwa takes a seat on the edge of the open trunk, patting the man on the shoulder like they’re two old friends grabbing a beer. “I’ll let you go. I always keep my word.” The final lie. The biggest lie of them all. 

But it works. In seconds the man confesses to Seonghwa, a sinner in search of forgiveness. He answers every question without pause. Spills the details of who hired him for the job that led to their paths crossing. Hell, he even starts in on his troubled childhood, going on about his mommy issues until Seonghwa can’t stomach his voice anymore. “Alright, well, thanks for that,” Seonghwa sings, hopping up and tossing the pliers into the trunk before walking out of view. “Hey! Where are you going?” the man shouts, wiggling towards the edge of the trunk.

Idling a safe distance away is Seonghwa’s car, soft white headlights illuminating the horizon as classical music flows from the radio almost too lightly to be heard. He pops the trunk, retrieving a 5 gallon gas canister. “Calm down, I’m coming back,” Seonghwa huffs, dragging himself back to the other car. The man’s eyes widen when he sees the canister, what little color is left in his pale skin drains to nothing. “No! You can’t do that! You gave me your word! You’re fucking crazy.”

Seonghwa digs a lighter out of his back pocket, flicking the top off of the canister with his thumb, “I know.”

You awaken from your slumber like a sweet baby angel to the gentle sound of orchestral music. The surface beneath you is the softest you’ve slept on in days and the blanket wrapped around you must be made of some luxurious fur because regular cotton could never feel this lush. You sit up, yawning, eyelashes fluttering, and wait for your vision to adjust. As the sleep wears off you suddenly notice how dry your throat is. Then there’s the pain. You bring your hand up to the side of your neck, touching the tender spot where you were injected with something, and it all comes back to you.

Woo. Seonghwa. They did this. Where are you? The driver’s side door swings open just as the pieces shift back into place. Nearby screams muffled by the crackling of a raging fire draw you in like a moth to a flame. There’s thumping inside the trunk of the other car. You’re too concerned about if you’re next to care who’s in there. “You’re up!” Seonghwa cheers, hopping into the car and turning to check the backseat where you’ve been passed out for hours. “How’s it going, baby?” “‘Baby’, my ass!” you shout, punching him in the face. You hate to hit something so pretty but he deserved it.

“You fucking drugged me!” Seonghwa holds his nose, tapping his foot to distract from the pain, “I did it for your own good.” “For my own good? You set me up. Where’s Woo? Son of a bitch.” Blinded by your anger, you storm out of the car, charging barefoot through the desert with the blanket still around you. Seonghwa chases after you, his head tilted back to avoid a nosebleed, “You can’t just walk around out here. You’re gonna get hurt!” “I’ll get hurt?” you scoff, turning back to launch another hit in his direction.

Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist, bringing an arm around your waist to hold you to him, “Look at me and tell me you think I’d ever bring harm to you.” The aching in your neck tells you not to trust him again but your heart won’t let you forget your shared history. All of the times he’s put his life on the line to protect you before. Whatever he’s done, there must be a reason. It better be a good one. Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief as he senses your body has begun to relax. The fire behind him has doubled in size, making it impossible to ignore.

“Who’s in the trunk?” you ask, kissing the bridge of his nose right where your punch landed. It takes everything in him not to blush. “Someone that did want to hurt you but don’t worry. I hurt him first.” “What did he want with me?” “You’re joking, right?” he laughs, “There’s a trail of corpses behind you in the name of a mission no one knows anything about. They’re coming for you. You have to stop.” This was bound to happen. An occupational hazard. When you run around fucking shit up you draw attention to yourself and it’s never the good kind.

This is the life you signed up for though. Turning back isn’t an option. “You know I can’t do that.” “Yes you can,” he says, the pain in his voice undeniable, “I’ll keep them off of you as long as I can but once they get to me—” You kiss him, letting the blanket fall to your feet as you cup his face. “Don’t talk like that, Hwa. I won’t let them touch you. I promise.” The kiss heats up rapidly. The knowledge that you still care for each other deeply drives you into a breathless frenzy.

You tear at each other’s clothes. His hands traverse your curves, massaging your ass and thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Your everything. Before you know it you’re laid out over the pile of clothes, his tongue rolling across your nipple as he parts your thighs to stroke your pussy. Your throat might be dry but your pussy’s delectably wet. Seonghwa dips a finger into you, humming against a mouthful of your breast as he taps his thumb at your clit. The finger inside of you curls in just the right way to make your hips stutter.

“Mmm, is my girl ready for another one?” You shake your head, nails raking up and down his back, “Two. I want two more.” “Anything for you” he smiles, feeding his fingers into you one by one. He moves his wrist in slow circles, giving you that satisfying fullness in your belly, all the while stretching you in preparation for the cock he can tell you want so badly. You reach down to stroke his length and it jumps for you like an overexcited puppy happy to see its owner. You are its owner. No amount of time apart will change that. You’re the only woman who's ever been able to get him hard as steel and you know it.

“No more fingers. I want you to fill me up” you whisper, tugging at his hair. Seonghwa picks up the pace, fingering you faster just to hear you scream his name. Your hips raise off of the ground, walls locked around his fingers. He wiggles them free, using the hand dripping with your arousal to stroke himself as he aligns with your entrance. He comes up to kiss you, pushing into you until he bottoms out, turning you into a giggling mess.

Watching you has him falling in love all over again. “Fuck, I love it when you’re like this,” he says, lifting one of your legs up and pounding into you. Each thrust is so perfectly angled to please you that you can't even steady your hands enough to touch him. In fact, nothing about you is steady. Your entire body reacts to his, obeying commands without a word spoken. “Ooh, your little pussy’s pulsing. Ready to cum for me already?” he teases, bouncing you on his cock. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes…” your voice trails off, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you crack under pressure.

Seonghwa pins you down harder, slowing down to feel every moment of your release. He may have his sadistic side but his heart never softens more than when he sees you happy. And knowing that he’s the reason why? It gets him every time. He cuddles you as you come down, only peeling his body away from yours when the sudden combustion of a gas tank startles the two of you. “Aww, isn’t that romantic?” he beams. “Romantic?” “Like fireworks.” You roll your eyes, scooching over to lay your head on his chest, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Despite the circumstances, laying here with him is the most peaceful night you’ve had since this all began. It feels almost normal enough to pretend you don't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Seonghwa disrupts the delusion. Someone has to do it. “Nothing I say will make you back out of this mission, will it?” You sigh, drawing hearts in the sweat that slicks his chest, “No. I have to do this, with or without you and Woo, but I’d prefer with.” Seonghwa hugs you, kissing you on the forehead, “Then ‘with’ it is.”

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst #ateez angst #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #ateez smut #ateez au

[bloogers-boogers]

Mr steal your man is at it again, let me tell yah that I needed more agnst... what better way than to subconsciously see your ex wife in the man you abandoned?

This time Adam did have some fun with Al ashwiwjsisw Alastor couldn't get away with it this time,, oh how interesting it is to get the same dose of medicine right back at you (for lying and making Adam believe they slept together bitch got his karma, basically using him to gut punch the devil) now he actually had to sleep with him to not lose his chance on messing with Lucifer 😭 anyways, the context at the beginning is that Lucifer was gonna sneak in Al's room looking for something to prove Adam he was no good, however, he did not expect Adam to be there (and awake) so now he needed for him to get away but this also provided Lucifer the idea that Adam was now sexually active and not as "pure" like he had thought. So he would now be mindful of that, bc this also tells him that Adam is still full of sin and would indulge in temptations (easily or not but he would).

Also this Adam has really bad insomnia (from past angel Adam who I hc rarely ever slept) he doesn't know why it's hard for him to rest and why he's always filled with dread and is uneasy at night. So he just does whatever to keep himself distracted until he feels like he's drifting off. Angel Adam had really bad nightmares of his past with Eve and his children, then about the banishment of Eden so it was really hard for him to even rest while also asleep. Guilt, anger, fear, loneliness and grief where his only companionship at night. That's why sinner Adam has issues from foggy memories he can't pin point about but feels something strong within the blurriness of his soul.

#hazbin hotel adam #adamsapple #lucifer morningstar #guitarduck #i really should be asleep geeez #hazbin hotel

[luveline]

Omg Jade, I’ve been LOVING the asf resurgence ☺️☺️ It hits my heart in all the right ways!!

I was wondering if would please write something showing more of the burrow from asf? Would love to see Molly (alongside Fred ofc!) doting on the reader. Maybe she feels poorly during a gathering? Just an idea - no pressure ofc to respond or to go in this direction. Thank you either way!!! 😊

tysm for ur request!! sorry this took me a whole month ♡ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw mental health issues/ poor eating habits

The popcorn is greasy between your fingers. You look down at a slightly burned kernel without much feeling, giving it a squeeze to listen to the styro-foamy groan as it breaks. 

The crumbs fall down the front of your hoodie. The mess is enough to make you feel something other than tired, blinking to attention while you pick tiny bits from your tummy. 

Fred's hand reaches over to help. "Whoops," he says, flicking them off of the sofa onto the rug. 

"Don't do that," you chastise without any heat, nudging his knee with yours. "Your poor mum will have to clean it up." 

"No she won't." 

"Are you going to hoover before we go?" you ask. 

Fred puts his hand on your thigh for an unapologetic feel. "No. She'd be offended." 

It's hard to describe how something as simple and as normal as Fred's hand on your leg can make you feel. Suddenly, you aren't alone in your head, feeling all sorts of awful. There's someone with you. 

Fred often laments (with sympathy) that you live in the past. He's not wrong. There are things that haunt you without pulling punches, stuff that makes you feel sick even though you can't remember how it all went anymore. It's like your body has caught hold of the way you felt at the time and is now throwing you into the deep end, no warnings. 

George takes the popcorn bowl from your lap, a lazy heist from his positioning on the floor. He, Ron, and Harry play a game of exploding snap that smells like no one's winning by your shoes. 

Bill and Fleur sit on bean bags by the fire, their legs interlocked, and the baby (who isn't a baby anymore, actually, a brand new toddler) waddles around the room in footie pyjamas. Every time you see Victoire, you wonder if she's an easy baby, and if you'd be a good mom. If you're even capable. 

Things tend to twist from there. Capable in any capacity? You're sure there are a hundred different things that Fred wants from you that he will never be able to have. A girlfriend who doesn't shut down when she's worried. A partner who pulls their weight. You let him down pretty much every day though he doesn't say, in your uselessness. You're awful. He deserves better than someone who's clinging to the bad things that happened to her (though you don't want to cling, you can't seem to make yourself stop). 

Fred's hand abandons your thigh. He sits up in his seat on the sofa to wrap his arm behind your neck instead, encouraging your head under his. With the side of his chin pressed to your temple, he doesn't say a word. 

Molly appears from the garden with a handful of fresh lemon balm. "Who wants a cup of tea?" she asks. 

Her eyes flicker straight for you. Fred told you once that Harry used to be her favourite child. It confused you —family is much more than blood, but still, there's so many to choose from and they're all brilliant, so why Harry? 

He was the one who needed the favouritism most, Fred says. Mum has a built-in pain detector. She knows when people need love. 

"We'll have a cup of tea," Fred says, rubbing your shoulder. 

"Obviously," Molly says, though what's obvious about it escapes you. "Anyone else?" 

There's a chorus of requests, most of which you can't keep straight. Molly's brilliant, she doesn't miss a beat. "Lovely," she says with a smile. 

"I'll come help you, mum," George says, using your legs as a brace to get up. 

You kick him without force in the leg. He turns to you, shooting you an adoring, saccharine smile with hands at his chest curved into a heart shape. 

"He's in a mood today," Fred says. 

Your sleeves bunch under his hands with every upward swipe. You sit there for a while feeling off. Something is wrong, some pit sucking you in, but nothing's happened. It's been a while since you felt this suddenly sick —you're better than you were, but you aren't better. 

"It's okay," Fred says, like he can read your mind. His reassurance kisses warm over your cheek. "Do you want to go home?" 

He doesn't seem upset with you. If anything, he's chipper, like he'd love to go home with you. It's a charade for your benefit to erase the guilt that comes with yanking him out of family time, and you don't fall for it. 

Yet you can't make yourself smile. You aren't as good of an actor as he is. "No," you mumble, pulling away from his loving embrace to meet his eyes. 

He inches closer, hand sliding down your arm. 

"I love you," he says very quietly. He's at risk of being heard by three different brothers, each of which might rip him to shreds for being as whipped as he sounds. 

You don't not want to say it back. Sometimes it's hard. Fred isn't telling you for a parroting, anyhow, and he doesn't care when you fail to answer. 

"Let's go help make tea," he says, standing up. You don't want to move, but you'd rather not stay by yourself. You've no choice but to follow him through the living room and into the kitchen. 

"Hi, dearie," Molly says. You realise she's talking to you, not Fred. "You look like you need something to eat. I'll make you something sweet, how does that sound?" 

It sounds like a bad idea. "That sounds great." 

She nudges George off with his tray of tea to stand in front of you. "There's a good girl," she says, squeezing your elbow. "Fred says you're not eating, but you were fine at breakfast. Feeling better?"

"Mum," Fred says, sending you an apologetic look. "Sorry, I don't mean to gossip about you–" 

"No, it's okay. It's nice, it's… a privilege to be worried about," you say, though you wish he wouldn't. 

Molly shakes her head, ginger kinks swishing over her shoulders. "It's not a privilege, lovely. That's just what family does, mm? You worry about Freddie, he worries about you, and I'll worry about both of you." 

"You don't have to worry about us, mum." 

"I know. It's a privilege, though, to be the one worrying," Molly says, offering you a gentle smile. 

"Right," you say. 

"So stop pretending you're okay and have a seat. Freddie, you better go and get her one of your blankets, I think." 

Fred grins and exits the kitchen quickly to avoid giving you time to protest. Ever a people pleaser, you sit down at the table in one of the chairs with a tall back. Molly puts down a cup of tea in front of you, swiftly followed by a plate of biscuits, a toasted, buttered currant scone, and a blueberry muffin sliced down the middle. 

That's what gets you. The muffin cut in half, paper peeled away. Molly has no reason to like you; you make Fred happy, but you know you've made him so, so sad, sometimes. You've weighed him down. You're not the best he could've had, but his family don't care. He doesn't care. He loves you enough to breeze into the kitchen with a throw blanket, wrap it around your shoulders, and nestle a kiss behind your ear. 

You scramble to grab his arms rather than let him stand again. He startles at first, but he recovers, and his arms curl around your front with enthusiasm that can't be faked. 

"I love you," he murmurs. Words slid together like he's tipped them out, impossible to deny. "Try not to wind yourself up, alright? It's a normal day. The only people who matter are you and me, yeah?"

"Yeah," you say through a lump. 

"I'll be just in the living room if you need me," Molly says. 

"Thanks, mum," Fred says, perching his chin atop your head. 

He waits for her to leave and plants a kiss on the highest point of your cheek. When you smile, he tracks them all over. Kiss to your head, your ear, the soft line of your jaw.

"Do you want to talk about something? Or should we think about other things?" he asks. 

It's a strange, coddling way to ask if there's something in particular that's upset you, but it's nice to be coddled. Truthfully, there's nothing concrete that hurts. A little bit of everything. The world is busy and life is hard and people aren't always kind, and you'll always be unbalanced by that. Luckily, Fred's there to hold you up, together, whatever you need. 

"Do you want half of my muffin?" you ask. 

"I'm eyeing up your scone, honestly." 

"You can have it if you want it." 

Fred hugs you tightly. "And deprive you? No way. I'll settle for the muffin if you feed it to me," he says hopefully. 

You twist in your chair, holding a bit of the muffin up for him to eat.

"I love you," you say. In a horror story, a nightmare, your nearly constant thoughts, he scoffs in your face. 

Fred swallows roughly. "I know. S'why you're gonna let me have half the scone, too." 

It's awfully cheesy, but you'd give him much more than a scone. You'd give him anything he asked you to give.

"Greedy," you say. 

"I resent that, ghost."

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #a special friend universe

[strawbeerossi]

Friends Like You

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After your father relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada, you meet a new face at the school bus stop.

Content/Warnings: Some minor angst with Spencer’s past, bullying mention, some minor violence mentions, Spencer being a little awkward and sweet baby.

Word Count: 1.1K

Navigation || Masterlist || Request

New mini series?? Let me know what y’all think!

AN: This should go without saying that it’s an AU where Spencer goes to high school at the appropriate age and not as a preteen! I thought it would be absolutely adorable. I hope you guys like it!

Spencer Reid never saw a day of peace in his life since he was a child. His father was a piece of shit who abandoned him as a child for his own selfish reasons, leaving a child with the burden of caring for his schizophrenic mother.

While he absolutely loved his mother and would do absolutely anything for her, a child shouldn’t have to be tasked with being a parent. While his friends were outside playing, he was sitting with his mother in bed while listening to her read an assortment of novels and other literature. 

High school was no easier than his early childhood. On top of caring for Diana, he spent most of his time fighting for his life within those hallways. The popular crowd, his peers, even certain teachers contributed to the anguish. There was no winning for him. 

It was a Thursday morning when he was standing at the bus stop, his satchel draped around his slender frame. He had a backpack but after too many times of it being pulled off of him and being hidden or defaced, he chose something he could have around him at all times. Nobody could just pull it off of him without dragging him with it. 

He had to figure that out the hard way.

The autumn air added a chill to the air, the crunching of the dead leaves on the ground signaling someone approaching. Typically he kept his head down to ignore the likes of Marcus Frank, Tyler Simpson, and Luke Halpert; three football guys who had a problem with the quiet, more socially awkward male who liked to fade into the background. Instead of being shoved and greeted with various ugly remarks, there was silence. There was the presence of someone beside him, so he let curiosity get the best of him.

What he saw knocked the wind out of him, even more than a punch to the gut from one of the men he dreaded seeing. 

You had recently moved to Las Vegas, your father getting a new job opportunity. It was an extremely hard move, one that drained you. The loss of close friends, family, as well as losing everything that you absolutely adored doing back home was something difficult. 

Your new house didn’t seem so homely, your neighbors were mostly old people who seemed uptight and had too many issues with the knowledge of a family moving next door. It wasn’t a welcoming city in the slightest so far. School couldn’t be that bad though, right?

Right?

Arriving at the bus stop was about as typical as it was back home, except there was only one person there so far. He was quiet and avoided your gaze, so you already felt like this was a bad start. 

‘Maybe I seem unapproachable?’ You thought to yourself. Some people did say that you suffered from a chronic case of resting bitch face, so maybe that was it? You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a pair of eyes on you. As your gaze lifted, it wasn’t long until you were facing Spencer. “Hi.”

Your tone was soft, almost quiet enough where Spencer couldn’t hear you. His face was red as he offered a tight lipped smile. “Hi. I’m- I- uh-” He laughed awkwardly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Spencer.” He finally broke through his stammering. 

It was charming in a way. He seemed so sweet and shy. You suspected he had a hint of social awkwardness.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” With a hand offered in his direction, he was slowly putting a hand up. “Did you know that our hands carry on average 3,200 different germs belonging to more than 150 species?  Your hands can have anywhere from 100,000 to a few million germs at any given time.” 

The sudden fact had your eyes widening as your gaze fell on the palm of your extended hand. “Are you serious? That’s how many germs lay in our hands? Good lord, no wonder why we are always spreading new diseases.”

The tone of your voice had Spencer letting out a soft giggle as he was reaching in his satchel to retrieve some hand sanitizer. “That’s why I always carry this.” He explained, pumping the disinfectant into his hands before offering some to you as well. 

“What other facts do you have?” You suddenly asked, rubbing the liquid into your hands as you were now staring up at the taller male. Spencer wasn’t used to this. Most people ignored him or they didn’t even look in his direction, much less ask him about the plethora of knowledge and statistics that plagued his brain. 

“Too many to name.” He admitted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ask me anything and I bet that I can tell you a statistic or a fact about it.” There was a rush of confidence, Spencer liking the idea of the possibility of having a new friend to listen to him.

“Hmm. Scotland.” You spoke while raising an eyebrow. “Oh! That’s too easy. Did you know that golf was actually invented in Scotland? Scotland is the country with the highest proportion of golf holes per capita in the world. The city of St Andrew’s has 12 golf courses.” He grinned proudly.

“Wow, are you some kind of genius or something?” You asked with a smile. “You could say that.”

This whole conversation was refreshing for Spencer. He’d never had anyone actively want to speak to him before. Most girls looked at him like he was an alien, the males would rather use him as a punching bag than speak to him like civilized people. 

He felt alone a good chunk of his life due to the fact he was.. Different from others. 

You were a rainbow shining boldly after a dreadful, miserable storm.

The school bus had rolled up not too long after though, the screeching breaks and the squeak of the opening doors were probably the most familiar thing you’d experienced. “After you.” Spencer spoke, gesturing to the open doors.

The vehicle was packed, other students scattered from other stops in the neighborhood taking up most of the seats, leaving just a mere few at the front being open. “You wanna sit with me?” You asked, the glasses wearing teenager beside you feeling the burn in his face, neck and ears from his blushing.

Despite his brain trying to give him rational ways to deny sitting with you, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. You were nice. You had a nice laugh and smile. You were safe.

Instead of verbally answering, he was taking the seat closest to the window with a soft smile, which prompted you to match his expression and fall down on the outer area of the seat. 

This was going to be the start of an interesting friendship.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid au #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr reid #spencer reid x reader

[stoat-party]

Evaluating Which Details Pose Continuity Issues (yeah, it’s long, sorry)

I’m being relentlessly annoyed by (some) people mad at the show and by (some) people mad at people mad at the show, so let’s clear up where the issues are and aren’t so we’re not just talking over each other here.

Destroying the Strip

Obviously not a retcon. Retcons refer to previously-established events. Some people might have their own problems with it (I definitely saw it cited as evidence of a coordinated attack on New Vegas), but it presents no continuity problems.

2. What exactly is a vial?

I don’t think this changed ghoul lore. They can still go 200+ years without turning, or they can start turning as soon as they get ghoulified. There’s just a new plot element where they can stave off the effects of going feral for awhile if they take this mysterious drug - without the drug, the rules are still the same. The story was NOT clear on this, and it confused me, but if ghouls need drugs to stay sane, Oswald, Dean, Billy, etc. could not exist even if there’s a massive industry in vials of goop that’s never been mentioned before.

3. It took Vault-Tec decades to build all the vaults.

This is something I worried about because there couldn’t have been much time between the boardroom scene and the bombs falling (Janey doesn't age). But I think it makes sense if you assume the vaults were already built and they filled them with experiments afterward. It does leave the problem that some vaults were unfinished but Vault-Tec also dropped the bombs - why would they do that before finishing their vaults? It’s possible that they planned to drop them but got beat to the punch, or any number of other explanations. Clear retcon but not a huge plot hole.

4. House is worse than Caesar all of a sudden?

This one’s a private gripe of mine because House and Sinclair were not originally written to be Actual Sadists Who Hate Humanity. There’s also House’s mastermind prepper attitude toward the apocalypse, which doesn’t indicate that he had a hand in orchestrating it. While the change doesn’t conflict with the text as far as I know, it really changes the flavor of the game, but not as much as:

5. The Fall of Shady Sands

Let’s say that this happened after the first battle of Hoover Dam, so no continuity issues with their ability to win that. (That’s probably why they set it in 2277, so the NCR would have almost four years to recover before NV. As if Caesar wouldn’t have taken half of their land by then, even with his armies crushed, but ok fine he’s going through a divorce, he’s busy right now.)

But are you telling me that a country can lose a massive city containing much of its infrastructure, most of its central government, and ~5% of its population and still be trying to manifest destiny four years later with no mention of it?

Losing the Divide as a travel route almost crippled the NCR in the Mojave for awhile. Now, not only have they lost the Divide and their capital city, but one of their other biggest cities, the Boneyard, is abandoned and inhabited by an apparently-unaffiliated town. (Yeah, Los Angeles is big, but we don’t see any NCR or Followers despite three main characters traveling through it.) Even if there were still people there during New Vegas, how is the NCR still conducting a campaign in the east?

Also, who is Muldover and what’s her position? Why does she have raiders at her disposal? Is that really supposed to be what remains of the government? I get that some of this will be resolved later, but short of complete societal collapse, there’s no explanation.

We don’t see any of this in New Vegas. The president (who was in office in 2277) is still alive. No one mentions losing family in the explosion. Caesar, Ulysses, and House, along with the many other characters who complain about the NCR’s weakness and instability, don’t bring it up. People even mention the politicians in Shady Sands specifically. PEOPLE ARE MAKING JOKES ABOUT WANTING A NUCLEAR WINTER-

Now there’s a saving interpretation going around that “the fall of Shady Sands - 2277” refers to a metaphorical fall, and the explosion was later. I’ll accept this if I have to, but don’t pretend it’s not a strained reading. Every entry on the board is dated. Why would you date an amorphous event and not date the city exploding?

The explosion was nineteen years ago, and it had to be that early because Lucy and Norm don’t remember living there. (Not clear how old they are but probably in their early-mid 20’s.) The earliest you could place the event without it making no sense is late 2282, because with the time skips in DLC, the events of New Vegas are about a year long. Maybe you could put a gap between Lucy returning to the vault and the actual destruction, but not a five-year one. And if it was in 2282, Max would still be a teenager.

There are legitimate concerns here. Between House and the NCR, the show changes a lot about the main conflict of New Vegas. It’s not just side details.

Not telling you how to feel! Just don’t pretend nothing poses any problems and people are crazy for being concerned. I think the vibe right now is to dismiss me as a hater, but I hope you can see I’ve tried to make it all work. Continuity is really important in a multi-decade story, especially to writers.

I will be appeased by a respectful and thought-out New Vegas remake that preserves as much of the original continuity as possible and is also really good and costs $4. Thanks in advance Bethesda.

Edit:

6. Tatoes in the vaults

TATOES IN THE VAULTSSSS? THIS IS MASSIVE DISRESPECT TO THE LORE. EVERYTHING WE KNOW IS DESTROYED. UNFORGIVABLE.

(but yeah there shouldn’t be tatoes in a vault that hasn’t opened)(maybe norm and lucy had seeds in their pockets when they came back, sure)

#house is also retroactively a giant cutie #hi honey hiiii #where you going with that mustache and hubris #giant plot hole why is he gorgeous #fallout #fallout new vegas #new vegas #fallout amazon #fallout show #fallout tv series #fallout 2024 #fallout prime #fallout series #Mr. House #fnv #fallout tv #fallout show spoilers #fallout tv spoilers #fallout spoilers #fallout prime spoilers #fallout 2024 spoilers #fallout series spoilers #fallout Amazon spoilers

[holylulusworld]

Peacock

Summary: It's your birthday and you end up eating alone.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: angst, trust issues, abandonment, Ransom being a douche, unrequited feelings, being lonely during birthday/Christmas, having the blues,

A/N: This is the alternative version of Dinner for one. I decided to turn it into a story too but with a different ending.

Written for: Winter Break Advent: Day 22 – Quote: "We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go."

“Anything else, sweetie,” the elderly waitress at your favorite café asks. Her name is Dolores, and she’s always kind. She knows it’s your birthday and brought you a cupcake with a burning candle for free. “Happy birthday.”

She watches you glance at the cupcake. You sniffle and try not to cry. This stranger showed more interest in you and your birthday than anyone else in your life.

“Thank you,” is all you get out. You blow the candle out, wishing for nothing but to not feel the aching in your chest any longer. “That’s so kind of you.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetie. You’re my best and favorite customer,” she smiles and refills your cup. “Chamomile, your favorite.”

“Again, thank you,” you fake a smile. She’s so kind, and you don’t want to be ungrateful. “This made my day.”

“I’ll bring you your order later. Eat the cupcake and remember, not all days are bad. One day the sun will shine for all of us again.”

Damn her, she read you like a book. “I guess,” you drop your eyes and look at the cupcake again. “It just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It will,” she insists and walks off, whistling a tune.

“Maybe—” you swallow thickly when the man you had hoped to never see again waltzes into the café, smirking like nothing has changed. He holds the door open for two girls, and two of his buddies. “Why?”

This can’t be. Today out of all days he had to come here. Your favorite café. Ransom always hated it and now he’s here, on your birthday after he broke your heart.

He straightens his hair and puffs his chest. Showing off his expensive coat and the scarf you bought him for his birthday. He looks like a peacock wanting to impress the ladies. You giggle as he looks stupidly handsome and like an idiot at the same time.

His eyes dart from the table the waitress orders toward your table. For a moment, it looks like he stiffens when his eyes meet yours. He clears his throat, and turns away, acting like he didn’t see you sitting alone at the table.

“Hey, Ransom,” one of his buddies punches his upper arm, “isn’t that the mouse you dated some months ago?” The guy points at your table. You try to ignore him, and the girls looking in your direction.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ransom snaps at his friend, adding another crack to your fragile heart. He can’t even admit that he used to date you. “I don’t date girls like her.”

“Dude, it’s her,” the other man insists. “I remember the pout and her mousish behavior. I bet she must be a bomb in the bedroom, if not you wouldn’t keep a girl like her around.”

“Listen, I don’t know that woman. Can we eat now, or do you want to ask me if I dated half of the people at the café,” Ransom gets louder, making you flinch.

He seems to be embarrassed by his friend’s question. Of course, he’s ashamed of dating you. You’re not one of his wealthy buddies or the spoiled girls hanging on his every word.

You exhale sharply as he continues to explain that he would never date someone like you. He even makes fun of the sweater you’re wearing. Even though he told you he found it cute not so long ago.

Self-cautiously you look down on your body, regretting that you decided to wear your favorite blue sweater with snowflakes today. You try to look away, or not listen to their words, but it’s impossible to not see Ransom staring your way.

“Sweetie, I got you birthday cake,” right when you want to flee out of the café, the waitress returns with three of her colleagues. They start singing Happy Birthday, and the lump in your throat grows.

The guests at the café get up to join the waitresses. They sing Happy Birthday and clap their hands, making things worse for you.

Ransom and his friends get up too, laughing and joking as they pretend to sing with the other people. You’re close to running out of the café and leaving town to forget about this awful birthday.

A few weeks ago, you were in love and believed you’d spend your birthday with Ransom.

 Now you are in the same room, but miles apart.

You’re living in different worlds, and this will never change. He’s got a huge trust fund, and you struggle to make ends meet sometimes. When you met Ransom he knew that you still got to pay back your study loan.

“That’s,” your voice cracks when they place a birthday cake in front of you. “Very nice. I-I’m overwhelmed.”

“I hope you enjoy your cake,” one of the waitresses sing-songs. She smiles, and hands you a fork. “It’s a red velvet cake. Your favorite.”

People sit back down and finally turn their attention toward their lives. You release a shuddery breath as the waitresses and some guests expectantly look at you. “That’s a beautiful cake,” you sniff. “But I already got the cupcake.”

“It’s a gift from one of the customers,” Dolores whispers. “We got instructions to serve you the cake when you come here today.”

“What? I don’t understand. Why would anyone buy a cake for me? I don’t know many people in town.”

“Well sweetie, he must be wealthy,” the waitress from earlier giggles. “This is the most expensive cake and he wanted extras. Just enjoy.”

“I rather not,” you doubt whoever bought the cake wanted to be nice. Gifts always come at a price. And you are not willing to be in anyone’s debt. “Can you take it back? Maybe tell the person who ordered the cake for me they can eat it.”

“Sorry, no returns,” she coos and points at the cake. “Dig in, miss. It’s free and very delicious. Look, the cook used leaf gold for the decoration. You don’t want us to throw it away, right?”

“No.” You hate this. All of it. Someone bought you a cake and expects you to eat it, just like the waitresses. “I’ll try it later.”

“She still got the cupcake. Maybe she can take the cake home,” Dolores jumps in. She offers to put the cake in a box for you to take the cake home. “Right, sweetie. You will take it home.”

Dolores tells the others to go back to work. She gives you a sympathetic look and walks away to get the box.

You shift in your seat and try to focus on the cupcake and your now cold tea. It’s not how you imagined spending your birthday but it’s better than to hide at your apartment and think about Ransom, and your breakup.

Ransom watches you eat the cupcake. He frowns as Dolores puts the cake in a box. You don’t look his way any longer. You finish your cupcake and drink your tea. When you get up to leave, you thank Dolores and reluctantly take the box with the cake.

It takes all of your strength, but you manage to pass Ransom’s table by and not look at him. You exhale sharply as one of his friends calls you mouse and cups his crotch.

“Y/N, open the door!” Ransom is fuming outside of your apartment. “Why did you refuse to eat the cake I ordered for you? I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Like bringing these people to our place? How could you, Ran? How?” You sniffle. “You walked around the café I showed to you like a peacock to impress these women. Why did you come to the café? And why did you buy the cake?”

“Babycakes,” he sighs deeply. “I’m…we…I let their words get to me. I was a fool to believe I could spend a day without you.”

“You laughed about me at the café!”

“Please let me in,” he pleads. “I came to the café to talk to you, knowing you’ll be there. Frankie and the others waited outside. I must’ve talked about this place, and they wanted to try it out. I’m sorry for their behavior.”

“Just go away, and take that cake with you,” you open the door to push the box with cake into his hands. “We are done, just like you said.”

“I said we should take a break to think about our relationship,” he looks at the box in his hands. “I got scared, Y/N. You know that I have commitment issues and trust issues. But…I wanna get better.”

“You want to hurt me even more to make fun of me with your friends,” you sniff. “I’m done with people walking all over me. I won’t have it.”

“Please don’t give up on me, Y/N. I’m not the best boyfriend and I got flaws but…” He shrugs. “We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go.”

“You let me go,” you tap your heart. “You broke my heart and now you stand on my doorstep asking me to take you back?”

“If you can forgive me, I promise to heal your heart…”

You take the cake out of his hands and jerk your head toward the door. “I’ll eat the cake, and maybe, I’ll call you. For now, I want you to leave me alone.”

Tags in reblog.

#ransom drysdale #winterbreakadvent2324 #winter break advent 2023 2024 #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #angst

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU

~I picture this as the timeline where Vlad goes to therapy after the disaster of the reunion where he sees his friends for the first time in ten years. He thinks it is going to be nothing but anger and hate towards Jack over how he ruined his life. Only for his friends he has not seen collage to ask him about why he never answered their letters they send him over the years.~

"What letters?" Vlad asks. His composure slipped a little at the unexpected revelation.

"Why all the ones we sent you while you were in the hospital. We were not allowed to visit as you were in intensive care which only allows family." Maddie tells Vlad.

"Yeah tried to get them to bend the rule but they would not budge. We attempted to break in three times that first week to visit you once you were stable." Jack says.

"The hospital banned us after that. Not the best decision we could have made but we just got stonewalled at every turn trying to find out how you were." Maddie says sadly.

"We sent you one everyday. You were in intensive care since we could not be there with you. Had to break into the dean's office to get your legal address so the redirection to the hospital would go through." Jack chatters away gesturing wildly. The punch nearly sloshed over in his cheap plastic cup.

Vlad feels like his stomach drops and the room is spinning. He remembers very little of the first week in the hospital. The crushing loneliness and pain as he came in and out the only clear memories. Never once does he remember any letters.

"I never received any letters." Vlad says softly.

"That can't be. We made sure to get them posted directly from the post office to ensure the address and postage was correct." Maddie answers then looks at Jack.

"Yeah we were worried that getting them sent to you in the hospital would be an issue and had the postal worker walk us through how to do it right." Jack says in a gentle voice.

How can it be that he never got any letters? Vlad would remember if he got one sign of his friends not abandoning him back then. He would never have refused to receive mail. Then like a slow motion train wreck he remembers an issue with the college.

"You got my address from the dean's office?" Vlad asks carefully. He hopes dearly that he had heard it wrong the first time.

"Picked the lock at midnight five days after you were hospitalized and broke into his records." Jack answers.

"Took a while to find your file as the filing cabinet was not alphabetized. Very unprofessional of him." Maddie says

"The Dean had my address wrong that year, seven was transcribed as one. It took weeks with the postal department's help to track down anything that was meant to be sent to me. The Undeliverable Mail Depot even had trouble finding anything that was meant to be sent to me." Vlad says in mounting dread. 

"You never got any of our letters?" Jack asks.

"We had been sending letters to a non existing address the entire time." Maddie gasps. She starts to step forwards as if to hug him.

"I think I need to leave." Vlad stutters out. He hastily shoves a business card into Maddie's reaching hands. All he can focus on is the high pitch ringing in his ears as something inside him feels like it breaks. 

"I need some time. You can use that to reach me later. I just can't right now." Vlad hastily says before Jack can stop him. 

Vlad holes up in his hotel room the rest of the night on the phone with the hospital he had stayed at after the accident. It takes little time for him to get the right person and just a tiny bribe to get them to check the mail room for any lost letters without having to be there in person. He waits on hold for an hour before the answer comes through. An entire bankers box full of letters was tucked away in the back with an incorrect mailing address and smudged name. He pays an exuberant amount to get it priority shipped to him. 

The next day he avoids everyone from the reunion. Using his powers to hide from the event planners and other graduates. His plans for revenge are dropped as a heavy package arrives at noon that day. With shaking hands he opens it and finds a years worth of faded letters sent to him after the accident. 

Tears smudge the one written the day his friends got banned from the hospital. A blurry photo of Jack being escorted off the grounds by security officers is tucked into that letter. A giant teddy bear in neon blue in his hands.

Vlad cancels the next weeks meetings with his company and gets the board to deal with things for a bit. He calls up the ghosts he had hired and tells them the job is off and gives them payment in recompensation for it. Lastly he books a meeting with a therapist.

Now with a Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

#danny phantom #good vlad au #Danny phantom Au #good godfather vlad #vlad gets therapy #vlad has an emotional breakdown in his hotel room #Jack and Maddie would do crime to make their friend feel better #letters get stuck in postal purgatory #I learned about the undeliverable mail depot for this #Vlad masters #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Danny fenton

[mickimomo]

Time Machine - Attuma x Okoye

I figured I'd write out my headcanon since you peeps liked it so much. 🤣

Enjoy

Today was the day. W'Kabi was finally being released from exile out of the kindness of council's heart.

M'Baku was apprehensive, but figured the man would be too powerless to cause any issues for the time being.

The last thing he expected to see, however, was a tipsy W'Kabi singing at the top of his lungs at 4 in the morning.

"Glory to Hanuman." He huffed as he approached the small crowd of people standing around Okoye and Attuma's home that sat on the edge of the Border Tribe. "What is he doing?" He groaned as he watched W'Kabi sing slightly off-key.

"One! I wish I never fell in love!" He shouted before holding up two fingers. "Two, I wish I never fell for you!" He dropped to his knees. "Oh, three! If I just had one more wish, I'd go back and do it all over again. If I had a time machine-"

Aneka chuckled as she watched W'Kabi spin around like he was Usher before he began to do a drunk moonwalk as he bellowed the chorus of the song. "I heard that someone told him Okoye had gotten married."

"I hope he does not think he has a chance." M'Baku groaned.

"I think the liquor gave him courage."

"If he continues, the bald headed demon will release her shark."

Aneka shrugged. "I'm hoping I get to see that."

He arched a brow. "Are you recording?"

"I am."

The regent king watched Okoye open her window while dawning a robe. "W'Kabi. Go home!"

"You are my home!"

"We're divorced! Move on!"

"How could you move on!?" He sobbed. "We had something special!"

"You did not care when you betrayed Wakanda!"

"I betrayed Wakanda for you!" He snapped. "For us!"

"We are not doing this again!" She snapped. "I'm giving you five seconds to leave or I will come through this window and end you with my spear!"

"Okoye please!"

"FIVE."

M'Baku blinked before grabbing an abandoned chair to sit on. "Count me in."

"FOUR."

Aneka snickered as she watched him yank a carrot out of his pocket to munch on before offering a banana.

"Thanks." She hummed before she began to eat.

"THREE."

"What's going on!?" Ayo frowned as she approached with a few members of the Dora Milaje.

"W'Kabi is about to get his ass beat." Aneka answered her wife as she took a bite of her banana. "Want a bite?"

"No."

"TWO."

"Why are you two just sitting here eating and watching?" She frowned.

"I wanna see Attuma beat his ass." Aneka shrugged.

"And I'm not getting punched again." M'Baku huffed.

Ayo shook her head. "The council is going to lose their minds."

"Not when they see the footage." Aneka snickered. "You should have been here earlier. He was singing Micheal Jackson and Mariah Carey."

"On key?"

"No."

"ONE."

They all turned to see Okoye try to climb out the window before she was yanked back in by a pair of blue arms.

Everyone was silent as the window remained empty for a moment.

W'Kabi watched Attuma jump out the window, dawning nothing more than his loincloth and rebreathers as he moved forward with hellfire in his dark brown eyes.

The shorter man stepped back as Attuma began shouting in his native tongue.

"You're the other man!?!" W'Kabi stared in disbelief. "I can take you!"

Ayo closed her eyes as the shorter man ran forward and threw a series of punches into talokanil's chest.

Attuma looked at his chest, completely unfazed, before he chuckled.

"I bet it'll only take one punch." Aneka offered.

M'Baku took another bite of his carrot. "I think Attuma will be nice and let him endure a few more. He seems like the type who likes to play with his enemies before killing them."

"You two are awful." Ayo sighed before accepting a bite of banana.

Attuma swung, and W'Kabi took it like a champ as he crumbled to the floor.

It was like watching a tree fall to an axe.

Slow and cumbersome.

"Damn." Aneka wrinkled her nose as they watched W'Kabi struggle to get back up. "I can't believe you were right."

"The man got his ass kicked a lot in exile. He can take a few hits."

"You knew that before making the bet."

"I did."

"Cheater."

"It's called research."

"No. It's called cheating."

They watched W'Kabi grab Attuma's leg to support himself as he tried to get back up.

"Glory to Hanuman. Have some shame-" M'Baku shook his head before feigning a wince as the warrior kneed the dazed man in the face.

"I'm stepping in." Ayo grumbled.

"No. He's still fighting." He gestured to the sobbing man. "Let him get up. Let him get up."

"My king. If he is killed, it will be a breach in the treaty."

"Attuma knows his strength." He waved off her concern. "He'll be fine."

"I..... I-" W'Kabi slurred as blood spilled from his nose. "I wiiiiiiiiiill win baaaaack my wiiiiiife."

Attuma yanked him up by the back of her shirt and stared.

"You say, your wife. When she is mine." Attuma furrowed his eyebrows. "Do not insult the mother of my child."

"CHILD!?!" W'Kabi panicked. "O-Okoye is pregnant!?!"

"Yes. If she were not, I would have considered letting her beat you herself." He narrowed his eyes. "But maybe I would have handled you still, even if she wasn't. Just so you would know that you will never have a chance."

"NO! OKOYE!" He tried to look past the warrior as tears blurred his eyes. "OKOYE!"

Everyone gasped before they began to whisper.

"Oh-"

"Girl-"

"He's bout to be sick."

"I'm telling you. He's gonna be sobbing and fasting for days."

"He is living out a nightmare I tell you."

"Damn."

"OKOOOOYEEEEEEE! PLEAAAASEEE!"

Aneka smacked M’Baku's shoulder as she tried to contain her laughter.

"I was not prepared-" Ayo covered her mouth.

"Is he crying again?" M'Baku cackled.

"Yes." Aneka laughed.

W'Kabi continued to shout. "OKOYE! TELL ME HE'S LYING!" He squirmed. "OKOYE!"

"Do not call for her. She will not answer you." Attuma tightened his hold on him. "You have come here and disturbed her rest and now you wish to stress her further." He frowned. "If you are a problem to Okoye, you are a problem to me. I will not let my wife endure anything." He growled. "Something you failed to do."

W'Kabi was shaking in the man's hold.

"So, let me make myself clear." He narrowed his eyes. "If I learn that you are bothering Okoye ever again, I will serenade you until you fall into the sea and have my sharks rip you apart." His eyes were darker than the ocean's abyss. "I say this in english... to be clear. I can also say it in Xhosa to be clearer." He grabbed the man's face roughly with his other hand. "Do you understand?"

He spat in Attuma's face before shouting. "OKO-"

Attuma cracked his head into the other man's and tossed his body before turning around with a grunt of disgust.

"And see- he did better than me." Aneka shook her head as she ended the recording. "Because I would have stomped his head in after he spat in my face."

"I think he remembered the treaty." M'Baku offered. "I wouldn't have stopped him if he chose to. I think he was being pretty nice until he spat."

"Alright. This is done." Ayo smacked their shoulders before moving in to grab W'Kabi's limp body.

"That was an uneventful fight." M'Baku sighed. "But it was still good."

"What? You expected him to fight back?" Aneka laughed. "The man was drunk. A baby could wield a spear better than a drunk man."

"I was hoping it would give him a power up. Like uh.... super strength."

"He's not that type of drunk."

"I can see that." M'Baku got up. "Send me a copy of that video. I must show it to my people in the Jabari Lands."

"You got it."

Bloopers:

Okoye sleeping peacefully while her man handles business:

Everyone watching W'Kabi lose:

In another AU, Oni and Attuma jumping W'Kabi:

#mickimomo #okoye x attuma #okoye #attuma #attuma x okoye #attoye #okottuma #aneka and m'baku are at it again #ayo shaking her head at her wife #yes m'baku has snacks #oni would have gotten the job done

[fanvoidkeith]

sooooo i may have. spent my day binge watching dungeon meshi and here are my Opinions, having never read the manga ever (very MINOR ANIME SPOILERS ahead! nothing too in-depth but, y'know, for laughs):

laios is my autistic blorbo son boy and i love him and i want him to be happy. go find your sister, dude, but also eat monsters for fun and research reasons. this is the one context where i would say "eat monsters" like... ever

laios is also 1,000 percent a freak for wanting to eat monsters and study them the way he does. absolutely insane man. stop trying to be a martyr, you dumbass, and also stop poisoning yourself. both of these opinions coexist at the same time and i don't know how to feel about it because feelings (and social cues) are difficult

marcille is a lady who is so so SO smart and cool, but has absolutely ZERO street smarts. (babygirl you are JUST like me, except for the whole "being a woman" thing.) she's a "gifted" kid who now has burnout and needs to feel useful or else she feels like a failure constantly kinda girlie. she doesn't want to be abandoned. relatable. i'm concerned at how much i relate to her. stop being so relatable, dammit!!

chilchuck is INCREDIBLY emotionally constipated. lmao. he also has chronic young-forever face, which means he probably gets mistaken for a twelve-to-sixteen-year-old constantly, which... same, dude, same. i've heard (from the manga readers) that he's divorced with several children, but i don't know if that's true. i hope it is. i really want that to be where part of his issues come from. i want more angsty moments with his character. he'll be my new emotional punching bag when i finish all those other unrelated one-shots i'm planning on writing :)

senshi is a sweet man who just wants to feed and protect his new friends. i think food and acts of service are his love languages. he has a really fuckin' strong pot and knife for some reason lmao

i love falin. she's kind of a freak too, but she knows social cues better than her brother from what i can tell. sure hope nothing bad happens to her- oh gods. well, i sure hope nothing ELSE bad happens to her- OH GODS OH FUCK-

uhhhh. i like that the kobolds in this anime are dog-people. i love dogs. dogs are cool. very cute. 12/10 decision honestly

this anime made me so hungry but i still forgot to eat for most of today. rip. the food in dungeon meshi looks goddamn delicious though, so it's fine

sometimes these characters act just like a D&D party would. like. damn. this is just like that ONE TIME in dungeons and dragons when our party did [X action] and then [Y consequences] happened-

oh my goddddddssss there's ECOSYSTEMS IN THE DUNGEONS??? DUDE I LOVE THAT. CRAZY CONCEPT. FUCKING LOVE THAT. ADVENTURERS AND MONSTERS AND CREATURES (and senshi, who is his own category) ARE PART OF AN ECOSYSTEM. I'M CLIMBING UP THE WALLS AND GOING INSANE RN

oooohhhh shit politics. oh shit background politics that our main characters ignored. no wonder they focused on this other party lol

OH SHIT OTHER CHARACTERS FROM THEIR BACKSTORIES RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

oh yeah i guess this is about whoever gets the big treasure at the bottom of the dungeon or whatever if they defeat the Big Bad or something? okay dude. it's only relevant to me when it's relevant to my New Blorbos honestly. but i WILL jot that down though :eyes emoji:

look. i am NOT calling it "delicious in dungeon". i KNOW that's the creator's intended english translation, but personally i think that title sucks. so DUNGEON MESHI it is, for me personally

PLEASE give me the second season right now i need MORE. i'm slurping up this show like soup and i'm fucking HOMGRY!!!

okay that's it that you for comjng to my ted talk

#void keith talks #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi anime #delicious in dungeon anime #late night thoughts #late night rambling #void keith rambles #anime stuff #show stuff #tv show stuff

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul silva x student!reader - just angry

Can I request a Saul Silva with student reader, where student reader is constantly in fights and like in trouble so Silva helps them to find a way to cope with their anger, if possible, please and thank you, or something similar - Anon💜

Standing on the edge of the school grounds, you crouched down wiping some of the blood from you nose on your sleeve.

“(L/N)!”

You looked to the side and scoffed a little bit.

“Fuck off!”

Getting up, you grabbed the cab next to you and made your way down the path in the opposite direction.

“Stop walking away.” Silva called.

“Fine!” You snapped.

Silva had to stop walking when he heard the loud crackle of lightening, and you were gone, and the lightening reappeared on the other side of the school.

He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face.

You jumped up on one of the large stones, taking a drink from your can as you looked down at the ground.

“Still avoiding Silva?” Riven asked.

You glanced to the specialist.

“And what if I am?”

He held up his hands, giving you a little grin as he leant back against the stone opposite you.

“None of my business. You know he’ll catch up to you eventually right?”

You shrugged.

“Couldn’t give a fuck to be honest, I’ll swing for him an all.”

Riven grinned a little.

“I’d pay to see that, air fairy against the specialists headmaster? Brutal.”

“Shut it Riven.”

He laughed a little, sitting down on the ground, and you looked around to make sure the place was clear of any teachers or other students.

You turned back to your on and off friend.

“So, who’d you punch this time?”

“Some asshole.”

“Descriptive.”

You stood up, jumping down with a small thud.

“Look, just don’t tell nobody where to find me got it.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You nodded and wondered away, heading back to the school, making your way to one of the abandoned rooms at the side.

Nobody ever came this way aside from Riven when he wanted to smoke.

Walking over to the blankets in the corner, dropping yourself down on it.

You picked up the dagger you had stolen from one of the specialist students, throwing it at the corner of the room, hearing it clang if a sword.

“We’ve been looking for that.”

“Don’t you know how to leave somebody be?”

Silva picked up the dagger and put his sword away, walking over he stood in front of the door and crossed his arms.

“Not when that somebody is picking fights with my students and stealing their weapons.”

You shrugged a little, slumping down against the wall.

“So, are we going to talk about this or do you want to settle for detentions?”

“Don’t want to talk, won’t turn up.”

“Well we’ve got to do something about this (Y/N).”

“You’re not my headmaster.”

Silva nodded.

“Maybe not directly, but right now I’m willing to give you a chance to explain your actions.”

You stood up, lightening crackling at the tips of your fingers.

“Leave me alone!”

You swung for him, but being a specialist for years, Silva easily evaded your attacks, knowing you wouldn’t use your magic.

It was a scare tactic, and he knew that, he knew that was what you one of the most dangerous and powerful students in the school.

You were already being sought out to be recruited, but nobody wanted to offer you any contracts while you were still so filled with rage.

Grabbing your hand, Silva pushed you back making you stumble a few steps.

“You need to calm down now before they decide you’re too dangerous!”

“Then leave me alone!”

You wouldn’t use the lightening against him, but the air itself? You had no issue with that, you threw him to the side with a burst of wind and stormed away.

Naturally you were suspended, and sent home for the duration of your suspension while they figured out what to do.

Some of the other teachers wanted to throw you out of the school, but Silva was against that idea.

Instead, he wanted to try and get to the bottom of your rage, try and reach out to you and find a way to help you because you had so much potential.

He made his way to the front garden of your home, and he looked around before making his way up to the door, knocking on it slightly.

It was opened a moment later by a young boy who looked up at him in curiosity.

“Pizza?” The boy asked.

Silva chuckled a little, crouching down to his height.

“Sorry I’m not pizza, is your mother or father home?”

The boy blinked, and turned around.

“Who is it?!”

“Not pizza!”

Silva watched as you came around the corner, throwing a dish cloth back into the kitchen, wiping your hands on your shorts.

“I told you to wait for me to open the door Jay.”

“Pizza.”

“You’re not having pizza, go back to your game.”

He huffed a little and padded away, and you looked at the headmaster as he stood up.

“What?”

“I was looking for your parents.”

“Not here, away for a few days.”

You walked away, and he sighed stepping into the doorway and closing the door.

“We need to discuss your behaviour at school.”

“Not interested so kindly fuck off thanks.”

Jay came back over, grabbing an umbrella he whacked Silva in the leg making him jumped to the side before running away into the kitchen.

“I hit him!”

You looked at your younger brother slightly confused before poking your head around the corner to see Silva rubbing his knee.

You laughed a little and went back to preparing some food, helping your brother sit on the counter to watch.

“They want to kick you out this is serious.”

Silva walked to the doorway and stood there.

You walked past and he saw the black eye you had, the red of the what should have been the white of your eye.

“What happened to you?”

“Fight.”

He sighed.

“This is what we need to talk about it isn’t good.”

You said nothing, getting your brother bud dinner, you walked to the back door, sitting on a chair outside and he followed to sit with you.

You took a drink of the coffee you had made yourself and looked at him.

“I don’t care if I get kicked out.”

“You should, you could have some of the best jobs, but nobody will touch you with a ten foot pole until you learn to get a handle on your anger (Y/N), one of the students parents said if you hit their son again they’re going to press charges against you.”

“Then let them.” You grumbled.

“Come on, surely you can’t mean that. For the first year from what Farah told me you were one of the best students, amazing grades, top of your class. So what happened?”

You looked to him.

“What’s the point? They’re right you know…”

Silva looked at you in confusion.

“Who?”

“The other students. I don’t belong there, I don’t come from a magic family. I’ll never pass.”

He sat forward a little.

“You’ve good a chance of passing like everybody else.”

“Except I accidentally hospitalised another student, so not really.”

“What?”

You sighed, turning to face him.

“The parents who threatened to Sue? Was their kid, he was picking on me, pissing me off on purpose, wanting a reaction, and I snapped, didn’t know I could use lightening at the time. So what’s the point?”

You leant back in your chair.

“I’ll just get some dead end job somewhere, live a normal human life, I’m full of hate, angry. Some people were born for the good life.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, you’re in control now but you can’t go around hitting people.”

“Yeah and if I don’t then I’ll never be left alone, I never stood a fucking chance there and nobody listened to me.”

Silva nodded his head.

“You’re angry, I understand. But you need to redirect this anger, you need to find some way to channel it into something else.”

You said nothing.

“What if we did something to help you? What if as well a fairy you trained with me when I’m training the specialists?”

You looked at him.

“Why?”

“You’ve got a skill for fighting, so we’ll put it to good use in a practical way. You’ll burn your anger and you don’t have to worry about hurting me.”

“Nah.”

“Just think about it (Y/N). I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

With that he left.

And you thought about it long and hard.

At first he thought you were going to turn the idea down, you never came to see him for the first few weeks when you were allowed back.

But he did find you waiting for him after the weekend, blood on your knuckles and you looked at him.

“Again?”

“No.”

He got you to follow him and he began to clean your hands.

“So you’re bleeding for no reason?”

“Punch a wall.”

Silva glanced at you before he went back to cleaning your wounds.

“I need your help sir, please.”

Silva looked at you, giving you a small smile and a nod of his head.

“Of course.”

#fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga x reader #fate the winx saga x you #fate the winx saga imagine #Saul silva #Saul silva x reader #Saul silva x you #Saul silva imagine

[bellaramseysgf]

Little Princess (S.B)

Warning(s); Attachment issues,public daddy kink,soft pure fluff,Remus kinda being mean,little bit of angst,mentions of age regression,brief mention of abandonment,protective Siri <3

Pairing(s); Sirius Black x crybaby! Girlfriend! Reader.

Summary; Remus makes fun of how clingy you are with Sirius not realizing why that is.

A/n; doing gods work.

You were laid in the common room Sirius’ large figure taking up the love seat while you laid on top of him. Your fingers braided up his hair weaving the strands together while he laid reading a book. His hand ran up and down your back in smooth comforting strokes helping you come down from your stressful day.

The common room was suddenly filled with yelling and you peaked over to couch to see James and remus arguing. “They’re going at it again, daddy” you said and he shrugs “they need to just fuck and get over all this bullshit” you giggled. “So sex solves problems?” “Yes it solves many problems. Not for us though, I like talking with you too much” you smiled and dropped your head back to his chest.

Eventually the two boys walked around the couch and plopped into separate arm chairs. “Pads, Moons’ is being mean.” James pouted. “Mean? What do you mean mean! You can’t-” Sirius shoots him a look and he finally stops. “Just fuck it out for Merlin’s sake. Fucking loud as shit” he grumbled. You smiled nipping at his jaw making him smile in return.

He patted your back “alright, I gotta piss, love get up” you whined in response and he looked down at you. “I’m just going upstairs baby,I’ll be right back. I promise” you shook your head and clung to him tighter “you can’t come with me this time honey, cmon up we go” you whine when he sits up lifting you off him. “Noooo! Daddy!” You wrap your arms around his hips and cling tightly.

“Princess, I’ll be right back, I promise. Cross my heart pretty girl.” Your lip wobbled but you let him go getting head pats in return. You sit back on your legs you butt resting on your feet as you fiddled with your fingers anxiously. “He was just going to the bathroom are you that needy?” Remus asked and you looked up at him. “Well, I just I miss him when he’s not next to me” “phew you’d get on my nerves hanging all over me like that.” Remus added.

“I think it’s sweet!” James defended but you start to chew on your lip. “I…I don’t annoy him” you mumble warm tears pricking your eyes. “You have to? The Man can’t even pee without you whining about it! It’s ridiculous” “Moony I think….” James interjected. “What? He won’t say it. She need to hear it. You’re constantly clinging to him it annoys him.” “Remus!” James yelled and you hiccuped, tears running down your cheeks.

“Sorry…” you whimpered and got up running towards the common room entrance. “Princess where are you-” you ignored him leaving and he snapped his head to his friends “what the fuck did you say to her?” He snapped out. “What? It’s just the truth and she’s being a baby” Sirius glared at Remus. “You don’t understand what the girls been through. You’re inconsiderate asshole” Sirius huffed out. “Just because you’re pissed at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you can yell at my girlfriend! Fuck you! I outta punch you for that.” Sirius grabbed your blanket and left to look for you.

He found you sat right outside the common room crying just as hard as he thought. “Come here princess” he lifted you up, hiding your face in your neck as your body racked with more hiccups and sobs. “It’s alright, I’m sorry baby. Daddy left you with that meanie I’m sorry.” He draped your fuzzy blanket over you tucking it around you. Sirius held you close and peppered kisses on your face and head until he could get you calm enough to speak.

“You okay princess?” You nodded using your sleeve to rub away left over snot from your nose. “Do I annoy you? Being so clingy?” Sirius shook his head immediately “no! Not at all! I love it. I love getting to have my baby next to me all the time” you sniffled “Remmy said it annoyed you” sirius patted your back gently.

“Well, it did at first. I’m not used to this kind of affection and it took getting used to. Now that I know why you love being attached to me I love for you to be.” He kissed your forehead. “You don’t annoy me baby. I love being here, next to you, breathing in sync,kissing you whenever I want, pinching your cute little bum when you walk away” you smiled and took a deep,shaky breath. “Easy poppet, easy.” He rubbed your back and you laid into his chest.

“Wanna go back inside?” You shook your head “don’t wanna be around Remmy he’s a jerk face.” Sirius laughed at your version of a insult. “Princess, that’s not very nice to say about your friend” you let out a small ‘hmph’ and he pecked your cheek. “Cmon, I’m sure he will want to apologize” “….you won’t leave?” Sirius shook his head.

With a arm wrapped around your back making sure to hold your blanket to you he carried you back into the common room. Sirius eyed remus who cleared his throat “y/n, love I’m sorry I was mean to you” you didn’t say anything, not even bothering to lift your head from Sirius’ chest. “I was mad with Prongs and I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I’m sorry” you sniffled and shrugged.

“What can I do to make you forgive me?” “Will you buy me a sucker at hogs this weekend?” Remus smiled “of course I will.” “All’s forgiven” Remus chuckled at your childish antics. You rubbed at your eyes sighing as Sirius went back to his book, you went back to braiding his hair.

#fem reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black #sirius black x female reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius x you #marauders era

[flashfuture]

[Last time on Kyle Rayner's relationship with sexuality] and humanity we saw Kyle Rayner's teenage assistant/friend Terry Berg brutally injured in a gay bashing. He might never wake up. Kyle caught the people who did it. But he's not settled yet. So let's finish this

Green Lantern vol 3 #155 released in 2002

This issue begins with John Stewart arriving after Kyle called him. And then Kyle leaves to go handle something.

What Kyle was doing was begging Wally to go back in time and let him save Terry. Wally said no. Kyle freaks on him about them doing it for no other reason than him being gay. Then Bruce shows up and is all "we all want one day back"

Kyle accuses Bruce of forgetting how to be a person. Because Bruce is comparing what I assume is Jason's death to Kyle about to lose his friend. But the context here isn't the same as Bruce losing a family member because the story here isn't About Terry in a narrative sense but about Kyle's perception of bigotry specifically in regards to sexuality in this case and how he feels about it.

So then Kyle goes into Space to punch rocks and Spectre Hal comes to meet him. And discusses with him what Kyle could have done the things he has done. And Kyle acknowledges how many people he's helped but he's really stuck on Terry's life as his failure. To which Spectre Hal is like bro stop punching rocks and go home good news awaits.

And Kyle is overjoyed about it. He sits down and speaks to Terry who has woken up but his memories are pretty hazy his skull was very damaged. Terry can't actually speak but write. And seeing Terry crying on the bed it just breaks Kyle in half

"I can't help these people now. I don't want to. Earth will have to get by without me."

"I know that there are millions of cultures out in the vastness of the universe that make the brutality we experience or propagate on Earth seem tame. But those cultures aren't my own. Maybe it's shame. Maybe it's anger. I can't tell you for sure."

And so Kyle writes a letter to John Stewart and leaves him a power ring to protect Earth with. Kyle abandons Earth because he couldn't handle the idea of protecting people who would do something like a gay bashing. That's so deeply personal. It is insane they have never elaborated on how Queer of a story this is. Not just in a bringing attention to gay rights but in an exploration of who Kyle is as a person.

When I read this story years ago I said yeah he cares a lot about Terry which is absolutely true Kyle adored that kid. But I compared it a lot to the 90s Hate Crime arc (yes there are two hate crime arcs) where it was about race and in that instance, Kyle could only be an observer as he worked with Connor Hawke who was actually facing racism but it was mainly about the larger context of racism and how rich people exploit it. This version of hate crime is so much more personal to Kyle himself. He decides he literally can't live on Earth where his people are so filled with hatred he just can't

#dc comics #kyle rayner #green lantern #terry berg #jennifer lynn hayden #jade