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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 5 months

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hi. here's a little over 5k words for the modern human au! entirely unedited, as usual! you'd think this is a full oneshot... ha... no... i actually have some warnings for this one - hospitals, panic attacks, major character injury / discussion of death / clinical description of injury.

in short, my writing comfort zone <3

The dial tone plays, and Barnaby looks down at his phone. Call ended stares back at him under Wally’s cheerful profile picture.

“He hung up on me,” Barnaby states. His lips twist and he tosses the phone onto the couch with a snarl of, “That little bastard.”

“Hey now,” Howdy says sharply, frowning at him. “That’s our friend you’re talking about.”

“Like he doesn’t deserve it! All I do is be supportive, understanding, and worry about his damn well being. And then he goes and acts like my very much well-founded concern is an attack!”

Howdy’s frown softens as he watches Barnaby pace, gesturing wildly.

“I love that RV. Maybe not as much as Wally, obviously, but it pains me that it needs to go. And it does need to go! Thing’s becoming a damn deathtrap.” Barnaby pushes his hair back and huffs. He glances at Howdy. “Right? I’m making the right call, here?”

“Of course you are,” Howdy says. “But-”

Barnaby cuts him off. “I tried to be nice about it. I tried to warm him up to the idea of retiring Home, yaknow? And what does he do instead of handling it - he revs up the tin can and runs. Home shouldn’t be started, let alone driven. It’s dangerous.”

It’s extremely dangerous. Wally is skilled at driving it, but no amount of skill will save him if it breaks in the middle of the freeway. What if the engine catches fire? What if a tire pops, or comes loose? Home is old, and wasn’t made to crumple in a crash. Barnaby doesn’t even know if the airbag still works. It’s not safe.

The thought of Wally bringing Home hurtling down the freeway at ten at night in a - quite honestly - not great mental state turns Barnaby’s stomach.

“I just wanted him to come back so we could talk about it,” Barnaby says. “I let him keep worming his way out of a serious conversation and now - now he’s -”

“Running away,” Howdy finishes. The point of his pen taps a rhythm against his notepad.

Barnaby jabs a finger at him. “Exactly. One tough, necessary decision and he turns tail. This isn’t gonna go away if he skips town! Not to mention how he isn’t giving a thought to how this might affect the rest of us.”

“Especially you.”

Barnaby throws his hands up with an indignant look. “Now not only do I have to hunt him down-”

“That would be a we scenario, Barn.”

“But we,” Barnaby concedes, “gotta try to knock some sense into that thick skull ‘a his, and drag him back home - kicking and screaming if we hafta.”

Howdy’s pen taps faster. “What if he doesn’t want to come back?”

“What if he-” Barnaby stops short and stares at him, wide eyed.

That’s not.

That wouldn’t happen, right? Wally would come back in the end. He wouldn’t decide to up and leave entirely, would he? He is in Home… all the essentials he needs are in that RV. Barnaby sits down heavily on Howdy’s threadbare couch. “What if he doesn’t want to come back.”

Wally would have to come back to clear out his studio - he’d never abandon his art. Then they’d have to go through everything inside the house and see what he wants to take, since not all of it is Barnaby’s. A lot of it is shared, so they might have to bargain on who gets what.

Then they’d all have to watch Wally get into his motorhome and drive away. Possibly for good.

Barnaby would be alone in that big house with Welcome, knowing that his closest companion is out of his life. Living somewhere else. It's sickening.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, Barn,” Howdy says, watching him with furrowed brows and a deep frown - if Barnaby were feeling like himself, he’d crack a joke about him emulating Frank. “I can confidently say that Wally loves you more than that old RV.”

Barnaby snorts. “You sure about that?”

“Unflinchingly. Believe you me, he’s going to wallow for a day or so, and then Home will come rumbling back down your driveway like it never left.”

“I wish I could have your faith,” Barnaby mumbles. He exhales and picks up his phone. No missed calls, no messages. “Maybe if I call him and ask him to just come back, no strings attached, he will.”

“That’s the spirit! Save the talk for another day - tell you what, I’ll help you corrall him so he can’t escape the conversation. I’ll tie him to a chair and bar the door if needed!”

“Good luck with that. Kid’s slippery.” Still, Barnaby hits call again. It rings only a couple of times before a robotic automated message states the caller as unavailable. Barnaby doesn’t enjoy being upset with Wally. However, it feels like his blood is simmering, and the wall is starting to look like great target practice for his phone. He grits his teeth. “He turned off his phone.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Howdy’s eyebrows shoot up as the man turns back to his paperwork. He exhales a controlled breath and writes something down. “I have to say, I’ve never known him to be such a-”

“Pain in the neck?” Barnaby offers.

Howdy clicks his tongue. “You said it, not me.”

“Yeah, well, he’s full of surprises.” Barnaby lets out a frustrated huff. He’s half tempted to run Wally down right now, but he wouldn’t even know where to start. There’s only one freeway out of town, but it goes both ways, and it branches. Wally would have hit one of those branches by now, and who knows which he took. North, south, east, west. Deeper into the woods, or towards the city? To the coast? Somewhere else entirely?

He has to face the facts - there’s nothing to do. He just has to wait until Wally pulls his head out of his ass and realizes how stupid and insensitive he’s being. Those are two words Barnaby would never normally use to describe Wally, but after tonight? They seem fitting.

Barnaby can’t even muster up guilt for thinking such harsh things. He tried to be nice. He was patient. He’s always kept a lid on it whenever Wally frustrated him, which doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. And what does he get for caring? For being tactful and careful about a shitty situation?

Avoidance, a shove, and a cut call. Wally left Barnaby’s been left to stew in his own anger and worry. Right now, he’s inclined to lock up that worry in a tiny box in the back of his mind.

Barnaby pushes himself up with a grumbled, “I’m makin’ some coffee, want some?”

“If you’re offering then I will not decline.”

Barnaby pretends not to feel Howdy’s eyes following him to the apartment’s tiny kitchen. It’s hell to maneuver around in, and the frustration of bumping into something every five seconds only makes Barnaby’s mood worse. By the time the coffee is brewing, he’s ready to punch the cabinets. He won’t, but he wants to. He’d regret it immediately, but he stares at the chipped paint and fantasizes.

The coffee machine breaks after brewing a whopping single mug. Barnaby stares at it for a long moment, and tallies up the consequences of taking a hammer to it. In the end, he just clenches his fists for a long moment and counts to ten. He takes the mug and sets it in front of Howdy, then goes to the window to brood. Thankfully Howdy is too reabsorbed in his work to notice beyond a mumbled thanks.

For the next hour, Barnaby’s thoughts are entirely composed of Wally. Different scenarios of what might happen next, how Barnaby might handle those situations without shaking Wally for doing something so needlessly reckless, and cruel daydreams of setting Home on fire. Barnaby wants to feel bad about that. He doesn’t. That damn RV has caused two different rifts between Barnaby and Wally - and Barnaby was the one to fix both of them, because both times Wally just left.

He gets it. He really does - for a time Home was all that Wally had. It’s been with him since Wally was thirteen, and if the thought of retiring it to a dump makes Barnaby sad, he can only imagine how much it distresses Wally. Well, he can do more than make an educated guess. Wally practically told him tonight, if not with words than with actions.

Still. They’re adults - Wally is older than him, if only by a handful of months. When does Barnaby ever ask something of him? When does Barnaby ever push? Why can’t Wally see that Home is becoming a liability, and why won’t he listen? Barnaby can’t make it make sense.

Wally has always been more inclined to avoid conflict, but this is too far. Barnaby swears, when he tracks Wally down he’s going wring that scrawny little-

His phone is ringing.

Barnaby lunges for it, relief dousing his anger. He picks it up, ready to give Wally a piece of his mind and then beg him to come back-

“It’s an unknown number,” he says, shoulders slumping. Of course it’s an unknown number. Wally wouldn’t change on a dime and decide to be considerate for once. He exchanges an exasperated look with Howdy and declines. He goes to set the phone down - the number calls back.

“That’s one determined scammer,” Howdy says. He leans back in his chair and holds out a hand. “I’ll deal with ‘em.”

Barnaby is all too happy to hand it over. Let the poor sap on the other end of the line deal with a master swindler.

“Howdy-hi, how can I help?” Howdy starts with a mischievous grin thrown Barnaby’s way? He leans back in the chair and hums. “Who, may I query, is asking?”

All at once, the ease drains out of Howdy and he stops fidgeting. He sits up, already looking at Barnaby with a paled expression that has something cold slithering down Barnaby’s spine. Something is wrong.

“He’s right here.” Howdy holds out the phone. His throat works uselessly for a moment before he plainly states the obvious, “It’s for you.”

Barnaby takes it, his mouth abruptly dry. Howdy is already up and moving - grabbing his coat, his keys. “Hello?”

“Is this Barnaby Beagle?” a professional feminine voice asks, tinny through the phone.

“B. Beagle, yeah.”

The woman introduces herself as the nearest city’s hospital, and Barnaby’s heart drops through the floor. She asks him to confirm that he’s Wally Darling’s emergency contact. He confirms, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. Howdy takes his arm and gestures to his shoes by the door, spurring Barnaby into motion.

“Is he okay?” Barnaby manages to say. He puts the wrong shoe on the wrong foot and almost curses aloud as he switches it.

“Mr. Darling was involved in an automobile accident,” is all the hospital employee says. “He was brought in a few minutes ago.”

Barnaby steadies himself against the doorjamb, choking on a whispered, “Oh, god.”

Keys jingle as Howdy opens the door and pulls Barnaby through, then locks the door behind them.

“But is he okay?” Barnaby asks again as they hurry down the short hallway to the stairs.

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information at present.”

It’s bad. It has to be bad if they won’t say anything over the phone. He must be silent for too long, because Howdy takes the phone, tells her they’ll be there soon, and hangs up. He tucks the phone into Barnaby’s pocket before opening the door to the store’s back lot.

The frigid air slaps the shock out of Barnaby, and sensation comes flooding back in. He grabs the keys out of Howdy’s hand and strides to the car with long, powerful strides that would leave anyone shorter than Howdy in the dust.

“Are you sure-”

“I’m driving,” Barnaby growls, cutting Howdy off.

Howdy makes a disapproving noise, but relents. They get in and Barnaby adjusts his seat with harsh movements, jabs the key into the ignition because Howdy’s car is a dated hunk of junk, and peels out of the parking space before Howdy even has his seatbelt all the way on.

Howdy clings to the ceiling handle as the car tears down the mostly empty street, going at least ten miles over the speed limit. Barnaby doesn’t know exactly where the hospital is, but he knows how to get to the city. They can figure it out from there. Several people honk as Barnaby brings them flying onto the freeway.

“Holy Marilyn marmalade!” Howdy screeches as they narrowly avoid side-swiping a minivan.

Barnaby ignores him and cuts off a pickup to get into the right lane for the interchange. Howdy whispers a string of something high pitched and strained and clings to the handle with both hands.

It takes him a moment to parse out the constant ramble as, “-pull over pull over pull over pull over-” Two honks and a squeal of tires as Barnaby almost causes an accident, and Howdy yells in a louder and deeper tone than Barnaby has ever heard from him, “PULL OVER!”

Barnaby clenches his jaw and cuts across the carpool lane’s double whites. It only takes a moment to reach the shoulder. Howdy leaps out of the passenger seat as soon as the car stops, marches to Barnaby’s side, and wrenches the door open.

“Out,” he snaps, breathing hard. “Barnaby, I swear to all things priceless, get out. “

Barnaby meets his steely gaze for all of a second before unbuckling and getting out. Cars whip by. Howdy huffs at him and slips into the driver’s seat, muttering about recklessness and disasters and if you would wait to try and kill us until we’re right outside the hospital, if only to save us the ambulance fee-

When Barnaby gets into the passenger seat, Howdy waits for him to buckle in with fingertips drumming on the steering wheel. He merges onto the freeway smoothly and carefully. They go slower than the speed Barnaby had them flying down the asphalt at, and it makes something deeply impatient itch in him, but it’s safer.

“I know you’re upset,” Howdy says, eyes still fixed on the road, “and I know that you’re scared. But what in hell’s bells was that, Barn?”

Barnaby side eyes him and grimaces, folding his arms. “I don’t know. I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that.”

“You put yourself in danger too, you know.” Howdy sighs and relaxes his grip on the steering wheel. “We’re of no use to Wally if we get ourselves in a crash. What would he say?”

“Whatever he’d say would be hypocritical,” Barnaby says before he can think better of it.

Howdy glances sharply at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He..” Barnaby’s voice fails on him, and he swallows hard. “He was in an accident.”

Howdy is silent for a full few seconds before he exhales a thin, pained sound. “Oh, Walls…”

He must not know what else to say, which is good and well, because Barnaby doesn’t either. A long few minutes pass of silence. Headlights of passing cars on the other side of the freeway flash over them before plunging back into darkness. The dials on the dash glow. The check engine light is on. They’ll need to get gas in order to make it home.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Howdy says. He’s tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s likely just a few scrapes and bruises, at worst a broken bone. Nothing Wally can’t handle, and certainly nothing to be concerned over.”

Barnaby can’t bring himself to agree. Maybe… maybe if Wally was driving slowly… but that wouldn’t matter if someone crashed into him with enough force. Home is a large, sturdy vehicle, but it isn’t invulnerable. Wally certainly isn’t.

Without the distraction of driving, all Barnaby can think about is the what ifs. Yeah, what if he’s only a little bit hurt, but what if it’s worse? All of the worst images Barnaby can think of roll through his mind like a messed up movie reel.

Wally dead on the scene, caught in a hunk of twisted metal.

Wally, choking on his own blood in an ambulance, dying en route to the hospital.

Wally flatlining on a metal table.

Wally’s small body covered with a sheet-

“Almost there,” Howdy says, slowing at a stoplight. It bathes them both in red. Barnaby didn’t notice when they got off the freeway.

Barnaby squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead to the cold window. After a moment, a slender hand rests on his thigh and squeezes. It’s such a small, stupid thing, but Barnaby breathes a little easier.

Despite the drive down the freeway feeling like it took hours, the drive through city streets to the hospital passes in a blink. Before Barnaby knows it the car is spiraling up to an upper floor of the parking garage. The floor is mostly empty - Howdy pulls into a spot right by glass double doors.

Barnaby gets out a split seconds before Howdy, staring at the pristine white walls just inside the doors. In a moment he’ll find out if it’s not that bad, or if he’s about to have the worst night of his life. He’s been to a hospital twice. The last time was for Howdy, but he went with the knowledge that it was only a precaution. The other time was for Mama’s health scare.

That had been terrifying. The waiting, the wondering, the too-bright hallways and the staff’s rigid smiles. It ended well, but it had still been horrible, and hospitals took center stage in some of his recurring nightmares. Barnaby never wanted to see another loved one in a hospital bed again.

Looks like he doesn’t have a choice.

Howdy comes around from the driver’s side and lays a hand on Barnaby’s shoulder. “If you need a moment to-”

“Nah,” Barnaby says, his voice rough. He nods and adjusts his sleeves. “Better rip the bandaid off.”

They go into the sterile maze. The bright overhead lights dazzle Barnaby’s eyes after being in the dim parking garage, and he grimaces at the strong odor of antiseptic and floor polish. Howdy makes a beeline for the nearest receptionist and talks to her in rushed, low tones.

Barnaby shuffles after him, rubbing his shaking hands together and eyeing every person in scrubs that walks past. Something beeps somewhere. He thinks he hears someone crying. This is a place without color, art, or happiness.

“This way,” Howdy says, walking past him and tilting his head at the elevator. Barnaby follows, feeling like a lost puppy dropped at the side of the road.

A nurse gets into the elevator with them and politely smiles before staring at the floor counter and pretending they don’t exist. It’s fine with Barnaby. If he has to make small talk right now, he might actually snap. The man’s pink scrubs are almost an eyesore in the harsh lighting.

The elevator dings, and they all get out on the same floor. Howdy reads door plaques and wall signs like a hawk, his head turning on a swivel as he reads everything at lightning speed. Barnaby nearly has to jog to keep up with his hurried pace.

Howdy changes direction without warning and heads straight for a door at the end of a short offshoot hallway. Barnaby reads the sign next to the door.

[can’t remember if it’s icu or the other thing, research later]

It’s bad.

The waiting room is small - longer than it is wide, and there’s a woman sleeping in a chair in the corner. It looks nicer than the emergency room, or where Barnaby waited to see his mama. The benches have colorful cushions, and the walls are a pastel green instead of white. There’s an abstract geometric painting on the wall next to the woman.

Barnaby slowly takes a seat on stiff cushions, watching Howdy talk to the receptionist from afar. He nods and pats the counter before joining Barnaby. He sits close enough that their legs press together.

“Someone will get us up to speed as soon as there’s news,” Howdy says. “I tried to pry some more out of him, but he wouldn’t give up another word.”

Barnaby nods, staring down at his hands. His nail polish is already chipping, despite Julie painting them only last weekend. Barnaby picks at the bright red on his pinkie until Howdy pulls his hand away and enfolds it in both of his own.

When Howdy takes a deep breath, Barnaby finds himself mimicking him. Their gazes meet - Howdy’s is unflinching, and steady. He smiles and runs his thumb over Barnaby’s knuckles, soothing the nervous trembling, and Barnaby is struck by how darn grateful he is to have Howdy with him.

If he had to do all of this alone… Barnaby doesn’t think he could. Either he’d have gotten himself into a crash to join Wally, or he would still be sitting in his car, staring at the hospital doors. He doesn’t have the courage. But Howdy does, and Barnaby loves him for it.

For once, Howdy lets the time pass in silence, though after a long stretch of indeterminable time he gets up to pace. The bench cushions are high quality, but they start to feel uncomfortable. Barnaby doesn’t dare go for a walk. At least they’re not the usual waiting room chairs - he’d rather stand than try to fit into those plastic, narrow things.

At some point the woman in the corner wakes up. She startles seeing two strangers in the room with her, but quickly ignores them. Barely a few minutes pass before she leaves, mumbling something about coffee. She doesn’t come back. Barnaby spends a while wondering why - did she go home, or wait somewhere else, or did she receive news in the halls?

Howdy sits down again and starts typing furiously on his phone. When Barnaby gives him a curious nudge, he quietly explains that he’s texting the group chat. Barnaby feels a twinge of guilt at that. He completely forgot to let everyone know that there’s a… situation. Who knows if any of them will see it until morning.

Message sent, Howdy gets up to pace some more. His rhythmic gait gives Barnaby something to focus on, seeing as the clock on the wall is silent, and the receptionist seems to be sleeping. Barnaby could probably pass time on his own phone, but every second spent distracted is a second he might miss someone coming to tell them…

What? Tell them what, exactly? That Wally is okay? That he can receive visitors?

That he didn’t make it?

The door opens, startling Barnaby to his feet. Howdy scurries over from the far side of the room and rests a steadying hand on Barnaby’s lower back. A woman clad in blue scrubs enters, reading something on a clipboard. There are shadows under her eyes, and she looks beyond exhausted. Barnaby can sympathize.

“Mr. Beagle?” the doctor asks, looking between them. When Barnaby nods, she smiles thinly, gaze flicking briefly to Howdy. “Hi. I’m Dr. Allen. Before I disclose any sensitive information, I’d like to confirm what your relation to the patient is.”

The question gives Barnaby pause. He’s always had a difficult time putting his and Wally’s relationship into simple terms, because it’s anything but. Wally is his best friend, his dearest companion, the man he lives with and can’t imagine being without.

“He’s my partner,” Barnaby settles on, because it’s a good umbrella term. Partner can mean a lot of things, and people don’t usually pry for specifics. “We’re as good as family.”

Dr. Allen writes something down on her clipboard. “No worries, I’m not going to kick you out if you’re not - you’re his emergency contact for a reason, after all. It’s just basic information that I’d like to have on hand.”

“Course - so how is he?” Barnaby cuts straight to the chase. He’s not in the mood for niceties.

“Well, Mr. Darling is certainly giving us a run for our money,” Allen sighs. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but I believe he’s gotten through the worst of it.”

“He’ll make it?”

Allen offers another tight lipped smile. “We’re doing our best.”

Barnaby has seen enough hospital dramas to know that we’re doing our best means no promises, prepare for the worst. Howdy must feel the tension gripping him like a vice, because his hand slips from Barnaby’s back to his hand.

“What are his injuries, if I may?” Howdy asks.

“I’m not sure-”

“Please. We’d rather know than wonder.”

Allen looks between them and sighs again. She flips a page on her clipboard. “Unfortunately, there was a bit of time between the crash and when emergency services were called. Between blood loss and the near-freezing temperatures, Mr. Darling developed mild hypothermia.”

Wally was dying, cold and alone in the wreckage of his home for who knows how long before anyone came to help. Barnaby sways in place, and Howdy helps him sit down on a bench instead of the floor. Allen looks apprehensive.

“Keep going,” Barnaby rasps. He needs to know.

Allen doesn’t look happy about it, but she continues. “Mr. Darling also suffered several low-grade lacerations from shrapnel, some fractured ribs, a compound fracture in his left tibia, and currently unidentified damage to his right hand and lower arm.”

Barnaby swallows a mournful sound. That’s fine, it’s fine. Broken bones heal - Wally will be painting again in no time.

“He also developed an intracranial hematoma. It’s been treated, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until Mr. Darling wakes up.”

“What is that?” Howdy asks before Barnaby can figure out how to speak again. “Intracranial hematoma - tell me if I’m wrong, but that sounds like a head injury.”

“It is - in layman’s terms, it’s a brain bleed. Head trauma can cause bleeding inside the skull, which puts pressure on the brain. We caught it as quickly as feasibly possible, which should raise his chance of a full recovery.” Allen flips the clipped page back into place. “There may still be lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet. I’ll be forward with you - this is one of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time. Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.”

Allen goes on to offer platitudes that Wally is a fighter, and easily answers the flood of questions Howdy has about the mentioned injuries. It all sounds distant. Underwater. The room is too small and the air is stale - are the vents working? Is there a window they can open?

In a blink - and yet the conversation lasts ages - Allen promises to come back with more information as soon as she has it. She smiles one last time and leaves.

“Barn?” Howdy sounds muffled. “Barn, are you alright?”

What kind of question is that? Of course Barnaby isn’t alright - his best friend is dying, likely on this very floor. There’s a chance he’s already dead. Barnaby might have already lost him, he just doesn’t know it yet.

Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.

One of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time.

Mild hypothermia - brain bleed - lacerations - fractures.

Lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet.

We’re doing our best.

“He hung up on me, the little bastard-”

Barnaby is up and out the door before he registers moving. He staggers down the hallways in a blur, everything swirling together into a mess of sight and sound as his lungs struggle to get a full breath. He bypasses the elevator and takes the stairs down to the level they parked on.

The cold air does nothing to help him breathe. Barnaby chokes on it as he leans against the rough wall grasping at his chest. Howdy is there immediately - he must have been on Barnaby’s heels the whole time.

“Talk to me, Barn,” Howdy pleads, a hand on the back of his neck and the other over the one Barnaby has on his chest. “What is it - you’re not having a heart attack, are you? Tell me you aren’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

Barnaby doesn’t know. Maybe? He feels like he is. He can’t breathe. He tries to say so, but the ragged gasps his breathing has devolved into doesn’t allow it. Howdy must know something he doesn’t, because he doesn’t run to get a doctor.

“How can I help?” he asks instead.

“Don’t - don’t - know,” Barnaby wheezes.

“Okay, alright, don’t worry, Barn, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s try, ah - what were the steps? I didn’t exactly write them down, though in hindsight I should’ve - that’s not the point! It was… what a time to take after Eddie’s memory-”

It shouldn’t be helping, but Howdy’s constant stream of words grabs Barnaby’s attention. He manages to inhale nearly a full breath before it stutters back out and he’s struggling again.

“Breathing!” Howdy says. “Yes, that was it - Barnaby, I need you to focus on me. Copy my breathing.”

He sucks in a slow, dramatic breath through his nose and exhales just as slowly through his mouth. Barnaby catches on and tries to mimic him, but-

“Can’t, I ca-an’t,” Barnaby says. His chest hurts.

Howdy presses their foreheads together. “Yes, you can. Come now, Barn, in… out. Simplest thing in the world.”

It doesn’t feel simple, but Barnaby tries. It feels like forever before he manages a full inhale. He butchers the exhale, but Howdy praises the minor win before launching right back into measured breathing.

Barnaby finally manages a slow inhale and exhale, and suddenly it feels like the pressure filling his chest has vanished. He slumps against the wall, worn out. He puts his hand over Howdy’s mouth in the middle of another dramatic demonstration.

“You’re alright now?” Howdy says, peeling his hand off. Barnaby nods, and Howdy leans next to him with a whoosh. “Thank the stock market - I was starting to get light headed.”

It takes another few minutes for them to catch their breath. Barnaby straightens enough to rest his head on Howdy’s shoulder, breathing in his cheap cologne and homemade laundry detergent. Howdy cups the back of his neck and massages the tense muscle there.

“This will all turn out okay,” Howdy promises. “Wally is stubborn - I think we both know that well enough. By this time tomorrow we’ll be moving forward.”

Barnaby wants to be that optimistic, but this is real life. For all they know, moving forward means making funeral arrangements. His breathing stutters and he forces it to even out before he can start hyperventilating again.

A car pulls into a parking space with a gravelly sound. Barnaby pays it no mind until Howdy makes a surprised noise - Barnaby looks up, and his stomach churns.

Frank, Eddie, and Julie are all getting out of Frank’s car. They’re all in various states of dishevelment. Frank’s hair is a mess, and he has what looks like Eddie’s company jacket thrown on over his pajamas. Eddie is in little more than a shirt that says male? lol, more like mail! and boxers - he’s even wearing slippers instead of shoes, and his hair flops over his forehead in soft tufts. Julie’s hair is still in curlers, and though she’s wearing shoes, she’s in a too-long shirt over sweats that don’t belong to her. They’re paint-stained.

They rush across the parking lot, all worried faces and tired eyes. They’re already asking what happened, is Wally okay, Sally is getting Poppy, they should be here soon, has there been any news-

Barnaby lunges at the nearest trash can and vomits.

#IM SORRY FOR ANY HOSPITAL/PROCEDURAL INACCURACIES IM NOT TRYING TO BE ACCURATE AT THE MOMENT #except for the injuries. those are realistic and i did my due diligence. read a lot of first hand accounts! medical pages!#ohhhh this was so cozy to write #i mean. not as familiar as actual on-screen injuries but yk #its been too fluffy in here.#this is a mild example of my usual tastes and habits when it comes to fic & fiction #WHUMP CENTRAL BABEYYYYYY #i like it messy and painful!!! Lets Fuckin Go!!!!#this is a prime example of me not being able to shut the fuck up when writing #my scenes & convos just go on and on and on and on....#but yes! enjoy! the Crash arc is very thoroughly planned out in my head and lately its one of my favorite things to imagine before bed <3 #bedtime stories can be fictional characters going through horrible injuries & emotionally hurting each other #snippets from the bog #i will repeat what i have said multiple times before #i take the comic relief character. i hurt the comic relief character #i could have posted the little carnival half-scene. i could have #but ive been feeling stressed and caged and i need to let out some steam #and this is how i do that. controlled fictional violence <3

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end-orfino · 9 days

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ahhhhhh i remember why i dont read comics & books and watch movies as much as I should. Because they make me lose it

#i get suddenly hit with a tsunami of inspiration and an urgency to Make Something #but the urgency isn't about the process of making it's about I Have Stories To Present Too. I have to See Them Realized.#and that hit of urgency is obviously far too short lived to make anything. esp since it comes in a set with a feeling of 'wow this-#-thing was so great' that transforms into intensified perfectionism of No No What Im Doing Here Isnt Good. What Is This. Disgrace-#-to my idea AND to what inspired it AND to my self proclaimed status as an amateur storyteller #which turns into artblock. so like low chances that ill even get a singular good drawing made during this #and the multiple comic or script or whatever ideas that appear in my head during this are out of the question entirely #oh and all of this appears next to the normal feelings caused by a good story like attachment to the characters and having to process it-#-for a while and if its very good then even sometimes rarely i get the need to make fanart #so all of this combined just leads to me not being able to do anything for a while and feeling awful about it.#fun./sar #i wish i was a normal artist people here are so resilient and do stuff even though they dont want to or they DO want to #because idk they enjoy being pissed bcs of a thing not turning out right and they dont mind how tedious it can get-#-and they enjoy sacrificing hours&days&months of their lives without a guarantee that anyone will appreciate it accordingly and itll pay of #its probably the resilience though #im weak like a dried twig both mentally and physically #this sounds like i never enjoyed drawing&writing ever. and to clarify thats far from true. i frequently enjoy it #just never frequently enough and consistently enough to actually make something more 'worthwhile' or linear #it's like a wind that comes & goes that i have no control over.#i try to keep telling myself that in the past i struggled to make anything 'bigger'....& know i even made animatic shitposts #this sounds so stupid god. an animatic shitpost being an achievement.#its not an art skill achievement its a fighting tooth and nail with my own self to actually finish it because its a struggle almost every-#-time achievement #what im saying is im trying to tell myself that i already improved. im doing more than i could have done in the past.#even if the process is so slow and i dont know when ill advance again #if ill advance again. i just gotta believe i guess? thank u parappa

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themyscirah · 1 month

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Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

#I JUST- SHDIAUDJSHDSHEYEYRYRYRY guys. guys #i know none of you see my vision and thats okay. i will make you see my vision. i will force you to see my vision. i will-#like jesus fucking christ oh my god. its so interesting and gives me so many emotions and just!!!#i know im not making sense bc none of my moots are sui sq fans and also like half of the content fucking me up specifically here is in my #head because i cant stop thinking about my absolute power fix it au but like!!!!!!!#also the fact i have a fix it for a comic that isnt out yet is so funny to me. its literally fucking real though. god knows we need it #may my own content carry me through the dark times (extreme villain waller arc)#anyways this fucks me up so bad you dont even know. someday ill actually explain it #dc hire me to write a suicide squad ongoing PLEASE. i could do it so good it would be so fucking good dc PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭#also like this isnt me shipping them btw. like 110% not that. just to clarify.#i wouldnt even call it a friendship bc like. theyre not friends really. he has the most equal dynamic with her i would say but it still isnt #equal. shes v much his boss even though they have an understanding and respect there #like she believes and trusts in him much more than anybody really even himself. like she sees the good man and the leader even when he #doesnt. but she isnt nice about it. and there is a lot of conflict between them when there needs to be #like as much as ben is “wallers man”--the team leader she wanted from the beginning before rick flagg pushed his way in #ben i would say is still a very moral person even when lost and unsure of himself and his goodness (which is like one of his main things)#like i feel like while amanda can lean very into a “the ends justify the means” mindset in her worse moments and do bad things to get #herself out of a corner ben has like a deep and meaningful understanding of how the choices of your methods and how you act can weigh on you #like even though he was brainwashed and whatnot (thats still the story right? i cant remember) he holds a lot of guilt and baggage over his #actions and i think is able to temper amanda's worse tendencies in terms of that by calling her out when he recognizes that behavior #idk. i just really think that amanda waller and the suicide squad as a whole has lost its way without a more moral authority presence there.#like someone who can call her out and keep them more on track. which i really thing ben is and could be #i just very much am interested in their dynamic and how that would look like as equals and how i think they could help each other.#which ofc is what my wip is about and revolves around #blah #sui sq

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spaciebabie · 1 year

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What's the storyline for your ocs?

nerdy straight A middle school student katherine quin and her pals realize that their government sucks ass and b/c they are impassioned naive youth, entangle themselves in a state of affairs that will stay w/them for the rest of their lives

more under the cut b/c i wrote a lot more than i thought i would kasfjksdfjksfj (i have big feelings abt this story)

i (officially) made the story when i was 14! all the characters are based off me and my experience 2 some extent (especially katherine i mean i made her bi, biracial, gave her a mole, made her like indie games etc). originally the story was going 2 have a happy ending, but as ive grown i have more of an appreciation for....well endings that are not so happy. im thinking i change it. it would make sense w/what happens in it anyway (the story of revolution is not as happy and triumphant as 11 year old me imagined when i first acted this out w/my brother. honestly like ive changed the story entirely 2 be my own but i still gotta thank my bro cuz the orig storyline that inspired it when we played legos 2gether was a conjoined effort and i borrowed many of the characters)! as im drafting it now, the story is not particularly happy lol

the story tells a sort of generational loop that katherine goes thru? if that makes sense? i wont go too much in depth b/c spoilers but its a story of history repeating itself again and again and the endless loops pain and suffering cause and how people are scared/too comfortable/too angry to change the cycle. i think that katherine being a history nerd in the midst of watching history unfold again before her very eyes grants her a certain point of view other characters dont have (except a few who have lived experiences). although this awareness will come later in the story when she's older

it will also touch on something young folks feel 2day where ppl frequently ask, "why is this happening today? havent we progressed?" and katherine will ponder that herself (although the situations that happen in the story are strictly to the story ajsfsjfd i cant talk abt and link real life tragedies it would be too much for me). and i think that as she gets older in the story and gains knowledge and wisdom from what she goes thru, she'll hafta bear this horrifying knowledge that the sands of time dont just erode the past, but the present and future as well.

i was not expecting 2 write this much KJSFKJSDJFKSJDF

anyway! i care this story a lot. its like my childhood and has grown with me as ive aged. im really compelled to make it the best it can be and i get a lot of imposter syndrome b/c i know the ideas i have and the story itself as a whole is good, but im worried my execution will fall flat. idk its kept me from moving forward w/it or talking abt it for years.

tldr; two can basically be summed up by this image:

are things going 2 get better? can they get better? questions i think about as i write and think thru this story.

#spacie splains #in 2020 when i first started making comics i sort of rushed it. it still needed more time 2 cook and develop in my head #especially since? i threw myself in2 it and had no idea where i was writing 2 and i feel like you can tell from the first 50 comics #the vibe was not what i wanted #so after grappling w/it for months i decided 2 start over #i want two 2 be good. its my passion project. its been my hyperfixation for years. i want this story 2 b good.#whenever i Type Serious my textccent goes away LKSJGKSDGHSJKG #I WROTE AN ESSAY SORRY LMAO #thanks for this ask! talking abt this helped tie up some of the loose threads in my head!#now that im thinking abt it....would two be considered an AU of the original story me and my bro did? KSJFKSLDFJSKFJS #OR IS IT A REIMAGINING?? TOP 10 QUESTIONS SCIENCE STILL CANT ANSWER #I DONT WANT 2 HYPE THIS UP I JUST REALIZED THIS MIGHT BE HYPING THIS UP #DONT SET YOUR EXPECTATIONS TOO HIGH #IM ONE GUY WRITING A STORY #im definitely gonna make some mistakes #i just really dont want this story 2 be surface level or juvenile or the typical 'lets save the world!' narrative #i want it 2 be more #idk idk idk i have too many thoughts in my small tiny head #i spent so long writing this ask holay molay #i spent 2 hrs rambling ong

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oflgtfol · 2 years

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With the way the symbiote is portrayed with Mac I always just go you know what. I think it's fair for it to be enraged at the exact moment. Mac unfortunately got to be Venom while we were going through the Bitterly Divorced era. Eddie is also running around at this point acting like he's been 'cured' of a disease other than the cancer (which. Might be an interesting unintended allegory for catholic guilt and internalized homophobia) so they're both working through some feelings. But uh it definitely says some things that Mac has an entire section of his Wiki page dedicated to his personality and how various writers have characterized him

naw see there's a difference in my mind between like, going around killing and eating people in a fit of rage and hurt and betrayal, and going around killing and eating people because you're nothing more than like a rabid animal who has no control over your impulses, yknow? and i mean yeah i only read a handful of mac!venom comics but it definitely comes across as the latter instead of the former

this whole era in venom comics was just. so messy. im still mad about the eddie dumping symby thing because like it was so out of the blue? literally he decided to do it OFF SCREEN (unless im missing comics?) it just makes no sense and this whole era was during the whole ohhhh the symbiote is corrupting him from the inside ohhh spectacular spiderman vol 2 bullshit. and then ofc the whole animalistic depiction in thunderbolts 97. it was just a mess. it was a mess. i take canon during this era with a grain of salt, as in im more typically mad at the writers for how they depict things than the characters themselves, because the characters feel so strange and misaligned with how they were in comics published even just a few years before

as i always say i think the way it turned out could theoretically be interesting - in fact, i never thought of it the way you phrased it, as an allegory for internalized homophobia + catholic guilt (especially because it was literally watching the passion of christ that apparently made eddie dump the symbiote...??? which i also have issues with because i mean like - watching a fucking movie of all things is what changed your mind, dude? is your constitution THAT weak? do you have no backbone? #NotMyEddie) but just the way it was carried out feels less like an exploration of the characters and their flaws and more like the writers just like A. not knowing what the fuck theyre doing or B. purposefully twisting the narrative into something else, like instead of an exploration of internalized homophobia its just. Homophobia from the writers themselves

#i think if it was just changed to like #eddie having a conversation with a real life actual priest #that i think could have been a convincing enough catalyst to set that whole mess into motion #but instead he WATCHED A MOVIE #its just so. INSANE TO ME #you have EATEN PEOPLE ALIVE and still decided to be wtih the symbiote #and watching a FUCKING MOVIE is what changes your mind?#ITS NUTS. ABSOLUTELY BONKERS TO ME #i suspend my belief for MANY things when reading comics but i have to draw the line somewhere #so this is the point where i start blaming the writers instead of eddie as a character tdfghfdsfghfdgbn #ESPECIALLY BECAUSE IT HAPPENS OFF SCREEEN #WE CANT SEE HIS CRISIS OF FAITH FOR OURSELVES?#maybe then it'd be more convincing that a movie singlehandedly made him change his mind on everything #but instead it happens off screen and its just so fucking jarring #its such a huge paradigm shift and it happens off screen and for such a stupid reason like. puts my head in my hands #and then that one stupid choice then snowballs into mac being venom. snowballs into symbiote acting like this. so on and so forth #its just a whole big snowball of bad writing choices hence why im just like. Whatever. i take this whole era with a grain of salt #ask #Anonymous #v posting

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autisticlee · 11 months

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it's annoying when people think i'm stupid, boring, lazy, etc when I tell them I don't read. some people get so elitist about it and think they're above me and better than me because they can read 5 books in a week. "how can you not like to read! it's the best thing ever! *goes into an angry rant about why it's so good and I'm stupid for not doing it"

not everyone has the ability to enjoy reading, Karen. some of us are dyslexic and have adhd so it's nearly impossible for our brains to focus or retain any words we read and it's more effort than it's worth!!!!! some of us would read if we could do it as easily as you 😒

#it takes me 5 minutes to read a single page of a book when it takes orhers leas than a minute. then i have to read it at least 5 more times #before i even comprehend what i read or retain any of it #i'll finish reading a few pages and then realize i have no idea what even happened and have to reread them #then i get to where i stopped and realize i still have no idea what happened #on top of that i learned that most people can read a thing and see it in their heads like theyre watching a movie #so that's why most people prefer books over movies and enjoy getting lost in books. they enjoy creating their own movies essentially #i cant do that 😭😭😭😭😭 i just see words on a page and that's boring. it's hard to follow along because i have to remember all the words #or i get lost and confused. but i can't retain it all. if i could make movies in my head i'd enjoy it more #i orefer watching things or if i do read then ill read a comic so i can see it.#ive tried listening to audio books and its better than reading it myself but i still struggle to follow along because i cant see it #im also very picky about how narration is done and what stories are about and how theyre written so i can never find anything i like😅#i find it super weird that i cant really see thing in my head but i have the craziest ans most vivid dreams?????#i imagine that's what seeing things in your mind looks like. i wish i could essentially have controlled dreams while awake lmao #WAIT MAYBE THAT'S WHY I WAS THE ONLY KID AMAZED BY DREAMS I HAD AND NO ONE ELSE CARED #they can see things like that whenever they want and i only do it while dreaming 😭#as an artist and someone who likes to write but feels im not creative enough to do anything....#if i could willingly see anything i want in my head as clearly as my vivid dreams id be unstoppable!!!!!#my dreams seem so creative and interesting. imagine if i could do that while awake. ugh why cant i 😭😭#people really take this ability to see things in their heads for granted lmao #lee rambles #adhd #dyslexia #books #reading

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weirdmageddon · 8 months

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i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 month

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Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

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tangerinesilk · 8 months

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－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x you #kick ass

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hirsheyskisses · 7 months

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im happy you're taking reqs! love your writing ❣️

could you write hcs for Law with a s/o who knits? or likes making clothing generally, and they make him clothes with hearts, jolly rogers (*´ω｀)

(plus if he wants attention he'd lay on their lap to take their attention from the fabrics to him)

tysm again!!

Knit My Heart.

TRAFALGAR LAW x READER

A/N: OK I don't knit, I crochet, so I am VERYYY UNFAMILIAR WITH THE TERMINOLOGY so I mostly avoided it, so I hope this is mostly accurate!

(Short Scenario)

♡ you have absolutely made their entire winter wardrobe. Jackets, puffy shirts, all of varying colors that compliement each individual member, with the inevitable Jolly Roger of the crew.

♡ law brought you on the crew part because of your skill with knit and fixing clothes, part because of a personal interest he'd gained after talking to you in your parents clothing shop for hours.

♡ to no surprise, you're his lover.

♡ he finds it fascinating how into your creations you can get, as if nothing else mattered in the world.

"You've been at it for hours.. your hands are gonna cramp."

Temporarily, the doctors voice had your attention. Kind eyes met his own as you'd reply, "'s okay! My hands feel fine, I know when to stop. I've even stayed hydrated," gesturing to the tea Penguin had insisted on bringing you every other hour. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Not the point," Law moved to sit beside you on your bed, a hand moving to your thigh, watching you work the yarn. He wasn't sure what you were making: it looked small, like a hat, and it was currently black with an oncoming white patch.

Just as quickly as he'd had your attention, you were back in your world of focus, needles dancing together with the yarn, humming softly.

For a long time, Law stayed there, watching you work your magic. He himself was currently wearing the cute little wrist warmers you'd made him when he'd grumbled about how cold his wrists were. They were white with the Jolly Roger, edges decorated with cute little hearts. He could see the hat coming to life. Law loved how each piece had his Jolly Roger, and he admired the love you put into each and every piece.

However.. Law didn't like how the pieces also stole your attention from him.

It was comical, actually. Never once jealous when you interacted with other men, never once jealous when other men hit on you, because Law knows he's the lucky man who has your heart. (He does however, step in when your safety appears to be in jeopardy.) He brushes off other women to seek you out in the crowds. Never jealous of your interactions with his crew-

- no, he's jealous of your hobby and a cake of yarn.

Law feels like an idiot but.. not much he can do about his feelings, except take matters into his own hands.

Slowly he kicks off his shoes, and positions himself comfortably on your bed before dropping his head in your lap.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him, lifting your work to see his face. Law clearly had a bit of a pout, but seeing your beautiful smile slowly turned his expression soft, lips tugging up as he raised a tattooed hand to cup your face, then let his finger trace down your jaw, your neck, before wrapping it around your body. "Nothin'. Just appreciating the view." The doctor responded, relishing your laugh as he traced his fingers up your side, "that tickles, Law!"

"I know." The former small grin widened a bit as he adjusted a bit to press his face into your stomach, and you clearly got the memo. Setting your project to the side, you reached down and snatched his hat, you plopped it on your head, the brim resting over your eyes.

"My hat now," you teased, and Law snorted, "looks better on ya anyways. ..just take care of it." He said that every time, visibly relaxing as your hand made its way to his hair and began to slowly massage his scalp,

"..if ya wanted attention.. ya could've just asked, Law."

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #heart pirates #heart pirates x reader

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quirklessidiot · 5 months

Text

title: hell's favorite secretary [sneak peak] pairing : Devil!Ryomen Sukuna x F!Lost soul!reader [based on the webtoon 'the devil is a handsome man', DC Comics "Lucifer", and the book and video game 'Dante's inferno'] Genre: Alternate Universe-Hell, angst, mystery/thriller, mild horror, romance, slow burn, hell au, dark comedy, lost soul x devil au

Summary: The faceless man shrouded in mystery tends to be a subject of rumors and false pretenses, but you'd think otherwise when you accidentally caught sight of those grueling red eyes.

General warning for the story: graphic depictions of heavy gore (manslaughter, mayhem, and torture), and explicit sexual scenes, more will be added per chapter. this will be exclusively released in ao3 in december <3 Notes: after reading a couple of pages of dante's inferno, reading lucifer (the comic book), and the devil is a handsome man, it sort of struck my interest to write this story! this is a pretty long series and im actually so excitied to write this lol.

if you're a person heavily practicing the catholic faith, i won't recommend reading this series as this talks and leans on the devil (i'm not a satanist pls), he's not glorified here in anyways but I do recall people who lean heavily on the faith are not fond of reading any media depictions of the devil.

i hope you enjoy! rb's are always appreciated.

There are possibly hundreds of artworks about the devil.

The most famous one is that snake hanging off the forbidden tree or, better yet, a half-animal and half-human. Others would be an ugly babe falling down from the heavens. The most popular modern one would be the one in red with horns on his head, yet your boss did not resemble any of those impressions. Instead, he wore a three-piece suit and had a hole right in the middle of his face.

Yes, you heard that right.

A hole.

All you could see was an empty void of black nothingness. Nobara had said that Sukuna – yes, the devil went by that name — would never show his face to lost souls like you because, as an angel before, seeing him in his proper form would result in instantaneous combustion.

Despite that good reason, talking to him was still disconcerting. The whole situation remained to be anomalous.

The ringing thoughts about your previous conversation with your workmate replay in your head like a broken record, your eyes trickling on the piles of paperwork across the window that revealed your boss leaning against the table with his usual outfit and pink tufts of hair neatly styled away.

You recalled meeting him for the first time and wondering why he seemed somewhat familiar. You had overtly eyed him up and down. Despite the hole in his face, he had caught on quickly and asked what exactly you were doing. Until now, you couldn’t understand the physics behind how he could even see you and talk.

You purse your lips in deep thought as lines form in the middle of your head. You don’t even feel your boss walking up to you on your desk, “Seems like someone’s head is up in the clouds this morning.” he points out.

You immediately sat up straight, your shoulders squared, “Sukuna, Sir…” you jumped, eyeing him somewhat warily.

Despite how he made you feel, the devil was not exactly a strict boss.

He’s rather lax and did not mind procrastination and passing your work at the last minute as long as you did it well. He works on proper hours, gives vacation and leaves, and an appropriate timetable for lunch breaks.

He’s hard to hate for a being who's been blamed for man’s misfortune since time immemorial.

“Was the long weekend still not enough?”

“I’m not exactly a sloth, Sir,” you mumble to yourself, but he catches onto your words and remains unphased. It's uncharacteristic for you to say anything more to him, but you needed a good starter for this conversation to get on, “...Although, I-uh…I do have a question…You remembered our contract, sir?”

One thing that humans were able to grasp correctly about hell and its king is the contract signing and how the devil gives out favors in exchange for something you truly hold dear. For you, since you’re a lost soul, in exchange for changing your status, you’d give proper work hours and help him capture at least eight hundred itinerants.

You’re running on two hundred and fifty so far.

“Oh?” he leans in closer, “That’s not something we talk about every day.” his body language remains fluid and guileless as if he wanted you to speak your mind more, and it only made your palms sweaty despite the coldness of the room, “Would you like to change some conditions? I am, after all, a fair man.” His voice is crisp and light, a charm that made up for his empty face.

“I- well, I’m going to be frank with you, Sir…” you blink, “I- um,” you start to stammer, and it only makes your stomach do different kinds of flips as your mind conjures up different types of worst-case scenarios. It’s not like you couldn’t become a soul after this, right? You’d only have to wait for a century and try to retain your sanity along with it.

He cocks his head to the side, and if you could paint a face on that void of nothingness, you’d wish it would be kind eyes looking down on you, but this was the devil, the man who was struck down from the heavens for being too ‘arrogant and malicious’. You need to be careful with your words, “I…I need information…” you swallowed, your words tumbling out clumsily.

“Information?” your boss remained relaxed, and you knew it was rather diabolic to even pray for God when you were literally in hell, but you had little to no way of reading him. There’s another round of stifling silence; you only want to melt into a puddle of goo this time.

#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #📝📝.hell's favorite secretary series

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adriennebarnes · 30 days

Text

OBSESSED

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina Plus Size! Reader

Summary: Y/N has been dating Henry Cavill for a few weeks and everything was going fine with their relationship until she found out that his ex is Ana de Armas.

Warning: I think this turned out a little more comical than I wanted to but it was fun to write.

A/N: Obviously his dating history is made up, this is inspired by Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo (I definitely prefer GUTS over SOUR, its more my vibe, not a stan though) ANYWAY, as a plus sized Latina who struggles with her body image and has tons of insecurities, i will be projecting. Let me know if you want more plus sized Y/Ns in the future

When Y/N was younger, she always had the dream of walking the red carpet like Salma Hayek. Though she wasn’t a singer or an actress, she couldn’t believe her dream is coming true as she walks alongside Henry Cavill, her super handsome actor boyfriend. They met on the set of the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare, Y/N was the guest of Eiza Gonzalez, Henry confused her as one of the wardrobe designers, Y/N explained who she was, and they hit it off. They were invited to the premiere of an action movie. She had on a smoky blue dress with a slit up to the middle of her left thigh and a corset bodice, absolutely beautiful. Henry and Y/N were posing for photos and Henry leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Henry whispered and kissed her temple when he pulled away. After a few more pictures, they entered the area, Henry began to talk to some people he knew and that’s when Y/N bumped into someone.

“Ay que boba soy, im so sorry.” Y/N told the Woman she bumped into but couldn’t see her face.

“No se preocupe, está bien.” The woman said, she turned to face Y/N and Y/N was in shock.

“No way, Ana de Armas de verdad lo siento mucho, no me estaba fijando.” Y/N said,

“Toda está bien, de verdad, me encanta su vestido.” Ana said, gesturing to Y/N’s dress. The twos were talking until…

“Ready to go in, love?” Henry said, putting his arm around Y/N. “Ana, how are you?” Henry asked the Cuban woman.

“Henry, I didn’t know you came with someone, she’s stunning. It was nice seeing you again, guapo, un placer conocerla, querida.” Ana said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek as she went inside. Henry and Y/N stayed back.

“How do you two know each other? I don’t think you guys made a movie together, right?” Y/N asked, curious how the British man knew the Cuban actress.

“Well, love, um, Ana and I dated…for a while.” Henry said. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“What?” Y/N questioned. So many questions were going through her head. Why did they break up? Was it jealousy? Is that why Henry chose her to date? He wouldn’t get jealous dating Y/N because no one else would want to date the fat girl? Henry’s voice pulled her away from her thoughts.

“Let’s go in and watch the movie, yeah?” Henry asked, leading Y/N in the theater to watch the movie but Y/N couldn’t pay attention. She couldn’t help but compare herself to Ana de Armas, like Ana was basically perfect! Ana’s hair looks so healthy, her amber eyes were just beautiful, her skin was flawless, and then there’s her, her hair is frizzy no matter how she styles it (wavy hair problems), there’s nothing special about her eyes, and no amount of makeup or skincare would give her that airbrushed look. Why is Henry going out with Y/N? That is what she keeps asking herself.

When the movie was over, Henry and Y/N went back to his house to unwind.

“You staying the night, darling?” Henry asked, hanging up his coat.

“Yeah, Fortachón, I’m staying.” Y/N said, sitting on his couch. “I didn’t know you dated Ana.”

“Yeah, it was a long time ago.” Henry said.

“If you guys never had any movies together, how did you meet?” Y/N asked. She was curious about his past relationship.

“My love, I don’t think we should be talking about this.” Henry commented.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” Y/N said.

“Good.” Henry said. “Now let’s get you out of this dress because I’m tempted to see what’s underneath.” Henry grinned.

And he did just that. However, when Henry was asleep, Y/N was wide awake, looking at Ana’s instagram. She is so perfect! Not too short, not too tall, Ana had an hourglass figure unlike herself. Did Ana slept in the same bed as Henry, same side as Y/N, she bet Ana had those sexy silk pajamas unlike her, opting for her Macy’s pajamas set. She googled Henry and Ana together and their size difference was PERFECT, Henry and Ana looked like Hercules and Meg, Y/N, however, saw herself as Merryweather from Sleeping Beauty.

“Why do I do this to myself?” Y/N mumbled, her hands covering her face. She decided to watch Overdrive, which is one of Ana de Armas’s movie and she was gorgeous, but Ana was definitely prettier in person. Y/N fell asleep watching one of her interviews on YouTube, turns out Ana and Henry are the same sign.

Henry woke up and found Y/N already awake, stalking Ana’s Instagram.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Henry asked,

“Nothing.” Y/N said, quickly exiting out of the app.

“That didn’t look like nothing, why are you looking at pictures of Ana?” Henry asked, sitting up in the bed.

“I’m just curious. How long have you two dated?” Y/N asked. Henry rolled his eyes.

“I thought you dropped it.” Henry said.

“And I’m picking it up again, how long have you two dated?” Y/N asked.

“4 years, I met her when I was filming ‘A man from UNCLE’ in Italy.” Henry told Y/N, knowing what her next question would be.

“Why did you two break up?” Y/N asked.

“I guess we just grew apart.” Henry commented and Y/N looked at him.

“Why did you grow apart?” Y/N asked.

“Oh my god, angel, leave it alone, please, I have never seen you act this way, you know I’ve had previous relationships, why is this one different?” Henry asked

“Because it’s Ana de Armas! You went from Ana de Armas to me, do you understand how mind boggling that is?” Y/N gets up from their bed. “She’s an 11 and I’m a 4, and that’s on a good day, Fortachón. I know you love me and clearly looks don’t matter to you,” Y/N said gesturing to herself. “But I can’t help but think about you and Ana. What about your other exes? Are they actresses too? Or are they models? Singers?“

“You think I don’t wonder about your exes too?” Henry gets up as well. “Of course I think about them! But I don’t obsess over them like your obsessing over Ana right.” Henry said.

“You wanna know why? Because you don’t know who they are! You never met them, I never really told you about them, so you could imagine them however you want! You are a public figure so your previous relationships are all on Google.” Y/N said and goes downstairs to the kitchen, Henry following quickly behind her.

“Y/N, i love YOU, i am with you, Ana and I haven’t talked in years, we only make small talk if we see each other at award shows or premieres. You are so beautiful and I love you because you make me feel safe, happy, and at home.” Henry said, looking at Y/N in her eyes.

“I love you too, Fortachón, but I still have some questions. Did she give great head? Like I know I’m not the best at it, I’ve been told before, but…” Y/N started but Henry kissed her, after a while he pulled away.

“You’re better…wait, who said you weren’t good?” Henry questioned.

“Not the point..” Y/N said but was interrupted by Henry.

“No no, you obsessed over Ana, now it my turn to talk about your ex, what did he do?” Henry asked with his arms folded in front of his chest.

“Mm, He’s a hockey player, his name is James Oleksiak.” Y/N said. She went to the fridge to look for what to make for breakfast. “How do you feel about pancakes?” Y/N asked. Henry googled him and his eyes widened.

“James Oleksiak? HE IS 6’7!” Henry exclaimed.

“Yeah, i was a hockey WAG, good times.” Y/N said. “If it makes you feel better, I dated Lewis Hamilton for a while too, he’s 5’9 so you’re good.”

“You’re doing this on purpose now.” Henry said, also looking up pictures of Lewis Hamilton. “Okay, now I know how you feel.”

“I guess we’re both obsessed with each other’s exes. Can we stop doing that? That was actually exhausting.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, as far as we know, we only date each other.” Henry said, kissing Y/N. “How big was James?”

“I am not answering that.” Y/N said, laughing at Henry’s question.

“Why not? I answered your question about Ana.” Henry tried to convince Y/N. “Wait, did James say you weren’t that good or was it Lewis?”

“I’m good, I just can’t deep throat.” Y/N said and Henry thought for a second.

“It was James, wasn’t it?” Henry asked.

“Oh my god, stop, help me make pancakes.” Y/N said

The end

Because of the poll results, I am trying to write more Henry Cavill x Reader, I’ll still write about Walter and Mike, just not as often. ALSO, Henry Cavill’s nickname going forward is “Fortachón”, I can’t BELIEVE I forgot that in Hercules, his nickname in the Spanish Latino dub is fortachón, and since I had the idea to make Henry dress up as Hercules in a fanfic @shellyshellshell wrote, Fortachón is PERFECT! I was going through a crisis trying to figure out a good nickname for Henry, like damn.

Face Reveal

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction

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stevie-petey · 7 days

Note

If you have time and you're in the mood to write a lil blurb I have a thought. Steve getting used to bugs affection, now that Jonathan and Nancy are together she can't really be as touchy as she used to and she's subconsciously started to give that affection to Steve. He'd be star struck, remember how he was about their first hug? Or finding out about bug never being kissed? He'd lose his mind.

this blurb request is DELICIOUS !!! been itchin to write her <3

enjoy !

"i'll be back in a sec!" you press a quick kiss to steves cheek before you run off towards your room to retrieve whatever youre looking for. steve doenst really know. he hadnt been listening. he had been too busy admiring the way you look in the cardigan he bought you.

its all you wear now these days.

the sight makes something warm seep into steves bones, and your kiss to his cheek ignites the warmth into a steady, smooth burn.

youve been doing this a lot more lately. the kisses to cheeks, hands intertwining fingers, fingers intertwining through hair, and breaths against his ear as you lay against him.

its intoxicating, really.

when you return, now holding a comic in your hands, steve remembers now that you wanted to show him a new spider-man suit. your arm loops through his as you sit next to him on the couch and you sit so close to him that your thighs press against his and the heat makes him dizzy. "see, look! im not sure if i like the new red, honestly."

you hook your chin over steves shoulder as you hold the comic over his lap and steve struggles to stay focused. he looks down at the panel youre pointing at and swallows. "y-yeah. its, uh. its definitely a different shade."

steve cant see any difference.

hes not even sure if he knows what red is right now because your perfume is all around him and your body heat seeps from your skin into his and your soft hair grazes his face.

its torture. its a hell so sweet that steve wonders why sinners are sent there in the first place.

"youre looking at the wrong panel, honey." you tease, nudging your nose against steves cheek as you giggle.

honey.

"how do you know i wasnt looking at the right one?" steve tries to find his voice again, but hes scared that if he turns to look into your eyes, the proximity of your lips close to his will only end in disaster.

(an addicting, all encompassing disaster that steve has dreamed about).

you nudge your nose against his cheek again and move even closer to him. youre practically in his lap, and yet you still dont feel close enough. "your pretty brown eyes gave you away."

youre everywhere and yet nowhere close to where steve wants you to be.

he isnt sure when it happened, but your physical touch has become such a constant in steves life, and he clings to it like a lifeline. hes never had someone openly show this much affection to him, hes never had a pretty girl hold his hand just because she wanted to. hes never had someone kiss his cheek as a goodbye and as a gentle command to stay safe while apart.

"you think my eyes are pretty?" steve cant think of anything else to say. hes still too scared to face you. he can practically smell the strawberry lip balm you like to wear, this close to your lips.

"mhm," you move your face and rest your head against steves shoulder now, and he practically sags with relief at the distance yet fills with immediately regret after. he already misses the way your nose fits perfectly between his jawline and ear. "a very pretty brown, warm in the sun like honey."

you say things that make steve want to kiss you breathless.

"youre extra affectionate today, angel."

"its winter and im cold and youre cozy." you say. lazily flicking through more of your comic.

steve laughs and throws an arm over you to pull you closer. the heat from earlier has lessened. the fire simmers back down to the familiar warmth, one hes more comfortable with, and he feels like he can breathe again. then, because he can, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, which you hum at. "who can argue with that logic?"

"no one, and thats why im always right."

"atta girl."

steve is still getting used to this, and yet he feels like hes done this his entire life.

#ask #anon #m speaks #m's writing #come home blurb #set in between seasons 2 and 3 !#theyre so in love #cant believe it takes steve like six months after this night to ask bug out LMAO

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fields-of-grimes · 1 year

Text

Dirty Thoughts | Carl Grimes

Request: Could you possibly write a fanfic where Carl has a real big crush on the reader and thinks very ‘Adult’ things about her and the clothes she wears only makes it happen more, and the reader likes Carl back. But one day they are hanging out by themselves and he gets a boner but tries to hide it as much as possible but the reader notices and tried to talk about it then it turns into him confessing and the reader says she knew he liked her but not that much. Then it ends in something smutty. [ the reader is experienced, no pet names] IF YOU DONT ITS OKAY!!<3333(that’s very specific and I’m sorry:()

Carl grimes x fem!reader

CW: smut

EVERYONE IS 18+

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Carl looked out his window, biting his lip as Y/N walked past his house in a crop top and shorts. His mind instantly became flooded with images of her lying on his bed, begging him to touch her.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door, he jumped at the noise. He cleared his throat before walking to the door, he opened it and held back a gasp as Y/N was revealed on the other side.

“Hey Carl, whatcha doing?” You asked him. He swallowed quickly before answering, “Nothing much, what um what about you?” He asked trying his best to not sound so awkward.

You giggled slightly biting your lip looking into his eyes, you always had a crush on him ever since Rick saved you from Woodbury and brought you back to he prison, you and Carl instantly clicked and became best friends, somewhere along the line you caught feelings for him, you knew he liked you back but you thought it was only in a friendly type of way, you thought he could never like you back the way you liked him, maybe thats was why you dressed the way you did, to get him to see you the way you saw him.

You were brought back to reality by Carl’s hand waving in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to Y/N anyone home?” He asked laughing.

You blushed slightly and nodded. “Sorry i must’ve zoned out for a second, anyways i wanted to see if you wanted to hangout for a little bit?” You asked him smiling a little.

He nodded and moved out of the way so you could enter his room, he stared at your ass, as you walked to his bed. He shook his head a little attempting to rid his mind of the thoughts of fucking you right then and there, and sat next to you on his bed leaving a very noticeable gap between the two of you.

You leaned over to grab a comic, your shirt riding up showing a lot of under boob, Carl gasped as he felt himself getting hard. He quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it over his boner hoping you didn’t see it. He grabbed a comic and began reading it.

You bit your lip and slid a bit closer to him, leaving a smaller gap between the two of you, your arm accidentally hit the pillow moving it slightly, Carl didn’t notice that it had moved but when you began reading the first page of your comic, you saw his boner out of the corner of your eye. You began blushing and cleared your throat.

“Um Carl?” You asked looking over at him. He hummed slightly letting you know he was listening. “You’re um, you uh, i can see.” You stopped talking trying to find the words, he looked up at you confused. “English please?” He said laughing. You swallowed hard blushing even more before speaking. “You’re um well you’re pitching a tent.” You said motioning your eyes to his boner.

His eye followed your motion and he gasped before covering it and leaning over covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god im so sorry, i uh i read a sex page in my comic.” He said, you just sighed knowing he was lying. You got all of his comics for him since you were older by maybe 3 or 4 years, you kept all the explicit comics to yourself knowing Rick and Michonne would not appreciate you giving him rated R comics, even if he is old enough to know what sex is.

“Bullshit, i get your comics for you, i know what they are before you get them. Talk to me what caused it i wont laugh or make fun of you i promise.” You said rubbing his back comforting him.

He sighed and looked at you. “You caused it, i like you a lot Y/N, fuck i think im in love with you, and every time i see you i just want you touch me, and when you showed up in this wanting to hang out i just started thinking about how much i want to have sex with you, and i sound like a idiot, you must hate me now.” He said putting his face back into his hands.

You looked at him shocked, all this time you thought he only liked you as a friend, you never knew he thought about you that way. You put your comic down and looked at him. “Okay.” You said grabbing the pillow and throwing it off the bed. You bit your lip as you stared at his boner, you felt yourself becoming wet.

“What?” He asked looking at the pillow then back at you. “Y/N what are you doing?” He asked as he watched you move so you were straddling him.

“You said every time you see me you want to fuck me and you want me to touch you, so i can either suck you off and then we can fuck or we can just skip the foreplay and get straight to it.” You said as you rolled your hips on his erection moaning softly.

He bit his lip and placed his hands on your hips helping you move them, groaning softly himself. “Let’s do the first one please.” He said leaning his head back.

You got off of him and helped him take off his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened as ou were nearly smacked in the face by his erection. If anything Carl was definitely not on the small side. You wrapped your hands around his length pumping him softly before taking him into your mouth, bobbing you head up and down at a steady pac. He moaned loudly but quickly covered his mouth silencing his moans incase his dad or anyone else was home. You slowly started to massage his balls, bobbing your head faster as you felt him twitching in your mouth, he soon after came down your throat. You pulled away swallowing his cum.

He reached over you and opened his nightstand pulling out a condom, he sat back down and slid it on, helping you out of your clothes. You gave him a shocked looked. “Why do you have a condom in your drawer?” You asked. He blushed and looked away for a second then looked back at you. “I had a dream about this happening and stole some from Glenn incase this ever really did happen.” He said blushing harder as his eye fell to your breast.

You giggled and kissed him softly before straddling him, with one hand you grabbed his shaft positioning the tip at your entrance before sliding it into you, with the other hand you had it tightly gripped on his shoulder. You winced at the pain, this wasn’t your first time, you had a lot of experiencing unwillingly at Woodbury but Carl was most definitely on the larger side.

“You okay Y/N?” He asked as he was fully inside you noticing the pure look of discomfort on your face. “Yeah I’m okay, its just been awhile since ive done this.” You said as you started to bounce up and down at a steady pace, moaning softly. Carl’s hands were placed on your hips groaning in pleasure as he helped you bounce up and down.

Carl kissed you silencing both of your moans in fear of someone hearing. You moaned into his mouth, speeding your pace up, the feeling of your stomach tightening caused you to break the kiss, “Carl I’m close.” You said whining in pleasure wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer. He held you tightly and nodded into your chest. “I think i am too.” He said sucking on your nipple, you moaned loudly before cumming all over his length, he shot his load into the condom before laying backwards taking you down with him.

You looked at him smiling, “This does mean we’re dating now right?” You asked him, he laughed before nodding. “Yes it does.” He said as he slid out of you, you laid next to him lying your head on his chest.

“Carl? Y/N?” You heard Rick’s voice coming from the hallway, you both quickly got dressed and sat on the bed just as the door opened. “Hey what’re you two up to?” Rick asked looking at the both of you.

You shrugged and looked up at him. “We’re just reading comics nothing to exciting.” You said before looking back down at your comic. “Alright well Maggie and Glenn are having us over for dinner, just wanted to let you guys know. Don’t have too much fun.” Rick said as he closed the door.

You and Carl looked at each other before bursting out in laughter.

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I’M BACK!!!!!! Sorry for the shitty ending i didnt know how else to wrap it up

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #twd #twd imagine #carl grimes smut #twd imagines

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