#Don’t take that last part seriously
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Thank you everyone who partook in the poll and please welcome Oryx (Henry) and Opuscribe (William)
I’ll write some lore and draw the Afton kids later, for now I’m gonna read some Hunger Games yaoi and fall asleep
#Don’t take that last part seriously#or do idc#fnaf#fnaf au#william afton#henry emily#wings of fire#wof#crossover au#willry#No that’s wrong#Oryscribe#toxic old man yaoi
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MY CAT IS SNORING AND I HAVE THAT FEELING YOU GET WHEN SOMETHING IS SO CUTE YOU HAVE TO SQUEEZE IT AND CUDDLE IT AND THROTTLE IT AND CHOKE IT AND HNNGGGGGGG
#don’t take that last part seriously#i could never hurt her#although she thinks she’s being hurt when i pick her up#but she’s a dramatic bitch
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never a frown with golden brown
(quick nigel study to recover from whatever tf that water drawing was.)
pose reference
#when i’m back on the prrooowwwwlllll#bye bye bye - nsync. looking mf#bro is feeling whimsical#THE LAST THING SUSAN SAW BEFORE BLACKING OUT AND BEING DISEMBOWELED ON A MAKESHIFT CROSS:#i tried so hard to take this drawing seriously but i could not stop laughing the entire time lmao#but pose studies are necessary part of drawing i fear.#now i know what you’re thinking. ‘why didn’t i just draw a different character so it seemed less ridiculous?’#well dear reader- because then i wouldn’t have finished it. nigel is rotting my brain and demanding attention.#i worry i’ll end up like susan if i don’t succumb to his wishes#like minds#art#murderous intent#fanart#drawing#like minds 2006#nigel colbie#digital art#artist of tumblr#nigel colbie fanart#tom sturridge#the sandman#tom sturridge fanart#like minds fanart
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adult wins, adult anxieties and fears and frozenness.
#I take my responsibilities so seriously and I take my work so seriously and so consequently myself so seriously#and that last one I need to not do#it doesn’t all come down on me. I am not in charge of everything or in control of everything#anyways I’ve just been absolutely wrestling these past few weeks with my internal landscape#if that makes sense#but it’s this thing where I just feel full of layers of deception#to other people because no matter who I’m talking to there’s something they don’t understand about me.#and this part of my brain goes insane when I’m tired and stressed and empty#and I have simply been doing so much non-stop#that I am due for a crash and a rest#unfortunately my brain also loves to torment me when I am tired and stressed#(it’s because of the tiredness and stress)#not a thought here is coherent or connected#but I need to rest and recharge#it’s like I keep finding new aspects of me that i can push harder. increased stamina. mental strength. more Finely honed observations#so I’ve just been doing it (everything life teaching conversations existing) at a much higher rate of intensity#and productivity#but the exhaustion this produces is new to me and it’s very scary and idk what to do with it#(rest. change my metaphorical tires. sleep. recharge)#anyway ignore me
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…
#why are people taking Phil saying he’s bisexual now seriously?!#he immediately followed it up to clarify that he’s not bisexual#some people are making it a dangender thing#and while I do believe in dangender I don’t think that’s applicable to this situation#like yeah I agree with y’all being attracted to a nonbinary person makes you at least a bit bisexual#but he clarified he still identifies as gay#so why are some people taking his words out of context#this is how the context gets lost for posterity#like an example being everyone remembering Phil as having said#‘ marriage is just a piece of paper’#and not what he actually said which is ‘marriage is just a piece of paper if it’s an unhappy one’#people are gifing right up until the ‘I’m bisexual’ part and not the clarification#and people are taking it seriously#thats what’s going to last for years in the fandom you realize??#ffs y’all are setting us up for 4 years from now there being phannies who genuinely believe he’s bisexual bc they’ve seen those gifs around#but they haven’t seen the video#and theyve seen people talking about how Phil being attracted to Dan makes him bi and ‘see this gif proves it’#🙄🙄🙄 shortsighted posting#this isn’t a subtweet of anyone in particular btw#mine#dnp#not for reblogging
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thinking a lot on Ghidorah’s character in my au, he’s so. He’s just, he so he’s just..
he’s just. He’s just a really weird character idk? You take this hydra who grows up on the stories on his species, he’s aware of his species being great rulers of planets, he’s aware that his mother is very well known and feared, he’s aware that his father is basically a king to all the other Hydras, he’s aware that his older brothers are literally the worst things you can encounter in space and that they are also very feared, he is aware of everything going on with his species, he is aware of all the stereotypes others make about his species. And he wants to live up to it, he wants to be feared he wanted to be respected he wants to be loved by his subjects he wanted to live up to the expectations of his father and his species. What’s the point of being such a strong creature and not living up to the stories. He wants stories made about him, he wants to be known across the galaxy and beyond if there is a beyond.
He wants to be important so badly, it drives him mad. The hunger for power and love drives him to a state that causes him to reject his own health needs, because he NEEDS to be known for something, he NEEDS people to make stories about him that describe him as the Golden Hydra That Rules or some shit, he’s wants it, he NEEDS it, he’s so desperate for it. He wants to be loved by his loyal subjects, he wants to be adored by lower beings, he wants people to worship him like he’s god, because it is what he deserves as a Hydra, he is absolutely nothing without love or power. He wails to the stars to be told that he’s loved or that he’ll be king, he sobs to himself that he will be loved and will be the king, he screams and destroys himself slowly when he isn’t succeeding in the way he wants. He goes beyond his limits to fight and train and win to prove himself to people who don’t care about him, he goes beyond his limits so he can get what he deserves.
If he isn’t a legend, if he isn’t a king, if he isn’t powerful..then he is nothing. He doesn’t want to be a useless slug and lay around, sitting on his wings, doing nothing. He wants to be important to people, he wants others sacrifice things for him. It’s all want want want that he rejects what he really needs.
and the thing he needs the most
is GODDAMN therapy. /silly
#gigi posting#He really needs to be told the words ‘I love you’ that’s really what he needs badly#Someone SAVE this nigga#maybe I’m just yapping but idk I’m obbessed rn#don’t take the last part seriously I got tired of writing this out and wanted to end it before I got bored to the point I started not makin#Sense#ANYWAYS
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my mum and sibling just got back from their trip. i knew once i got a selfie of them maskless on the plane that they’d probably get covid, and my suspicions were confirmed when i started getting texts going “all the rich food is giving me stomach problems” and “the jet lag is hitting really hard”. i didn’t think their positive test text would be 2 hours after they got home, though. my mum is currently pissed at me trying to give advice about resting and hydrating and is avoiding me asking for a grocery list so i can drop things off. i’m exhausted. i don’t know what to do anymore. i just keep crying.
#I’m so fucking tired of this#‘we’re asymptomatic’ YOURE NOT. YOURE ACTIVELY NOT#my sibling has had Covid once before and came out with migraines and memory issues so i don’t even want to guess at what might happen now#my mum is in her 60s and refuses to rest properly#im so tired of being the only person taking this seriously#I don’t study this shit in my free time for fun! i’m not pursuing my college’s certificate in infectious disease study for shits and giggle#i’m not home obviously and had already privately planned to not go home for two weeks but part of me hoped they’d get lucky#and that they somehow wouldn’t contract it and would be fine#my sibling can’t drive so i just have to hope that i’m actually kept updated and not just given bullshit they think won’t stress me out#last time we waited until it was an emergency to deal with Covid in the household#i got a ‘I’m so sorry i just tested positive’ text from my mum who then immediately got pissed when i sent advice#it wasn’t even extreme advice! the most extreme thing was to throw the ball for the dogs instead of walking them#and to send me a grocery list so i can drop them off instead of them going to the grocery store#or I’ll try and convince them to door dash groceries#covid tw#vent tw
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im literally in love with the little cackle that harley does every so often in birds of prey… like it’s the cutest most unhinged laugh and it’s adorable
#harley quinn#I feel like Margot didn’t get a chance to do it much in SS and TSS because I don’t remember it from those#only in BoP#and it’s SO cute I’m like… that’s my absolutely unhinged girl#BoP Harley is my fave live action harley overall and the laugh really helps. it’s so HARLEY.#I think it’s because she gets to have a lot of fun in BoP like yeah it’s life and death but#it’s on a smaller scale than destruction of an entire country so harley gets to play and be silly and have fun#she doesn’t take any fight in BoP nearly as seriously as the final fight in TSS#which is not a criticism of either film it makes so much sense for both#the only fight she takes serious in BoP I think is the final sequence with Roman because that’s the only one she feels she could lose#I think she sort of has fun in the last part of the escape sequence in TSS#when she’s escaped to her own world in her mind#but the first parts of her escape I really feel like she switches into the brainspace for being an effective killer#there’s two parts in her brain for that#the one that fights for fun and is entertained by the violence and playing with people#and the one that goes into immediate killer mode without thinking about it#she’s very good at compartmentalising#sorry this went from me talking about Harley’s adorable laugh to analysing her mental state I didn’t mean for that to happen#anyway congrats margot robbie on being really cute or w/e
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bot is the perfect embodiment of s3 bevause I have so many swaying thoughts on the entire. WUHHUH WUAH..W,W..
#IDK BRO!!!! parental instincts arc yeah but cabby literally was a big part of the reason bot questioned the things You did to them so#‘cold in a way that I used to be/I feel sorry for her’ IS A LINE I WOULDVE GONE CRAZY FOR#IF IT WERENT FOR#IDK I THINK YOU WERE A BIT WORSE WHEN CREATING A FACSIMILE driven by emotional attachment Yes but but BUT#LIKE YOURE STILL KINDA DOING COLD THINGS DUE TO YOUR APPROACH TO PROBLEMS SS AND IT MESSED UP A REAL PERSONS WHOLE BRAIN#cabby last time i checked did Not#NOT PITTING THEM AGAINST EACH OTHER thye are my two favourites I just UAAQGHHH THIS WOULD BE SO GOOD#FOR NARRATIVE but I just don’t see the bot plotline the way it’s. being talked about / resolved#IM TAKING IT VERY SERIOUSLY I THOUGHT IT WAS. COOOLLLL THAT TT AND FAN REPEATED THEIR MISTAKE BUT A LOT WORSE BECAUSE THEY CARE ABT#EACH OTHER SO MUCH like LKKE THATS A WIN THATS. COOL TO EXPLORE#and how that made both of them stronger and capable of doing things cabby couldn’t imagine (power of friendrship etc)#but like strong enough to do something super Bad too especially while getting emotional about it#like so bad that cabby’s cold approach to finding out what’s upwith bot. was justified because SOMETHING RLY BAD WAS UP!!!#UMMM IDK IDK what does the class think Dot dot (insane about it#pdl#jic
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the kpop space is so tiring
#m.💬#was gonna leave this as a tag on my last post but nah#there’s always some kind of drama#I do not concern myself with that shit#I just woke up from a nap to so much information and I am overwhelmed#love being someone who doesn’t include myself in drama honestly#I’m depressed and angry enough about living as it is#I don’t need that added stress#don’t get me wrong I’m a nosy bitch and I’ll figure out what’s going on but then I walk away#I’ll just be listening to my music yall can be mad about whatever you want don’t mind me#but I’m basically a shadow and invisible so no one minds me anyway 🙂#I’m on my period don’t take what I say seriously#also still post nap/sleep hazy#got rid of the ‘and petty’ part bc I don’t think that’s the right word#and it’s tiring in more ways than one so that descriptor is good enough
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we listen and we don’t judge
drew starkey x latina actress reader!
Drew was not a fan of social media.
Unlike you.
Chronically online was a term that was gaining fame to describe someone who spent quite some time on the internet, and who knew all the trends going on.
You weren’t exactly proud to be a part of that community.
But it kept you entertained.
And that’s how you ended up setting your phone up, ready to record Drew and you filming a new trend on TikTok.
How did you convince him to do it? You don’t even remember.
And after what felt like an eternity of explaining the dynamic to Drew, you both were finally ready to begin.
Both of you sitting next to each other on your couch, you looked at him with a mischievous smirk while he stared at you suspiciously.
“We listen and we don’t judge” you both said at the same time, Drew smirking at you.
“I’ll start” you said, looking from your phone screen to your boyfriend. “Sometimes, when I don’t really wanna cook, I get all dramatic and lie about us not having all the ingredients for the dish I was supposed to make, so you can offer to make something instead with what we do have” you say, giving him an embarrassed smile.
He chuckled at your words.
“I knew that love” he lets out a laugh. “You’re not good at lying to me”.
Your mouth opens up in shock.
“We listen and we don’t judge”.
Drew pauses for a moment, smiling at you.
"When you're showering, i close the door of our room so the sound of your music gets as muffled as possible" he admits.
You giggle as you nod at his words, you did like to shower with loud music.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You look at him through the screen.
“I thought you hated me when we first met, so I would intentionally try to stay out of your way our first couple of working days together”.
Drew gives you a puzzled expression trying his best not to judge.
“We listen and we don’t judge”.
He clears his throat before speaking.
“I often fake coming home super tired and stressed so that you take pity on me and cuddle me while playing with my hair” he says giving you a cute smile.
You giggle at his words.
“That’s cute” you admit leaning to peck his lips.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You take a couple of seconds before speaking, trying to be dramatic.
“I have a lot of edits of you saved on my favorites folder on TikTok” you look at him.
Drew covers his eyes while letting out a chuckle.
“We listen and we don’t judge”.
He looks at you mischievously.
“I get jealous of the guys in your books” he admits seriously.
You let out a laugh as you throw your head back.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You giggle softly before confessing the next one.
“Whenever I feel sick in the middle of the night, I wiggle a lot in bed or move your body so you’ll accidentally wake up and ask me what’s wrong”.
He opens his mouth surprised at your words.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
Drew thinks a little before speaking.
“Ever since we met I’ve always been skeptical of your at home remedies for illnesses, even though they work every time” he admits.
You slowly nod while giving him a defeated look, knowing that already.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You give him a playful look before speaking.
“When we’re cuddling, sometimes I have the urge to stand up abruptly because I get too hot and I feel like I can’t breathe because you’re too big” you say, barely getting out the words without laughing.
Drew looks at you with big eyes, moving his brows up and down at the double meaning of your last words.
You roll your eyes at him.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
He thinks for a moment before speaking.
“When I’m showering, sometimes I’ll use your shampoo rather than mine” he pauses as he looks at your baffled face. “It leaves my hair softer! And smells like you”.
Of course, there were a few confessions you had to cut from the video because your PR managers would hunt you down if they made it out into the internet.
“We listen and we don’t judge” you both say smiling at each other.
You smirk playfully at him before speaking.
“I cannot stand one of your friends and past coworkers” you admit, making a serious face.
Drew immediately throws his head back and lets out a chuckle, knowing exactly who you’re referring to.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
He clears his throat before looking at you.
“I don’t like watching F1 since you told me about that driver that slid into your dm’s” he lets out cockily.
You burst out laughing looking at him while he joins you.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You make a thinking face looking at him.
“I wish you sent me more shirtless photos” you say giving him puppy eyes. “Or like, you took more of those with my phone, so I could look at them”.
He snorted out a laugh.
“That can be fixed baby” he says as he looks at you mischievously.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
He gives you a smile.
“When I travel for work and you’re not coming with me, I take a pair of your panties and stuff them in my suitcase” he says laughing.
You scrunch up your nose at him.
“Drewwwwww” you say covering your face, now knowing where those missing undies went.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You avoid his eyes for the next one.
“Sometimes when I’m cold, I throw on one of your dirty hoodies that you used while working out, cause they’re sweaty and smell like you” you say, trying not to burst out laughing.
He gives you a grossed out look.
“We listen and we don’t judge”
You look at him waiting for him to speak.
“You know those sleeping shorts Brooke sent you cause she accidentally bought too many?” He says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying sent and accidentally.
You nod at his words.
“I actually bought them for you because I love how your ass looks in them”.
Your mouth opens at his confession while you hit him playfully in the chest.
Drew laughs at your reaction.
“Oh my god baby, this is definitely not making it to the video” you say as you stand up from your position while laughing at him, walking to your phone to stop recording, while he stands back watching your movements with a smile.
Noticing that in fact, you were wearing a pair of those shorts.
“We don’t judge remember?” he said cheekily.
*
inspired by @valstranquility lando blurb<3
I love this trend on TikTok and I just couldn’t help myself
they’re just too cute I can’t
this was short n sweet hope you like it, if you have any other concepts you’d like to read let me know!
#latina actress reader#drew starkey#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x you#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx imagine#obx
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time
I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
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I think I’m just. Accepting that I’m pretty polarizing. I don’t really change, beyond trying to do the self-work of Always Kinder, Always More Accepting & Openminded, Always Braver, Always Learn Better Tact—y’know, those sorts of things. Putting in the effort to grow and maintain my growth and learning to cultivate a better relationship with myself than the one forced upon me.
But. That get’s back to I am polarizing.
Either I am—apparently—universally liked (uh, what the hell?!) or very much on the outs. Ostracized or Scapegoated or outright Targeted. Singled out.
Either I—apparently—inspire others to be kinder by being kind to them, and silently challenge them (or more directly 1:1) to be kind to themselves or “that’s actually not funny, I know you’re better than this.” Or…singling me out is what a group can all agree on.
But when I leave in either scenario, whatever dynamic a group has…falls apart. For better or for worse. But I also know my own family often get waspish with me over something I had no involvement with or snap at me for “judging” them when…I literally didn’t say anything. (I’m not allowed to have my own opinion with them anyway so why bother.) My efforts to be helpful and affirming and often hiding away the intensity of my emotions and stress with them and from them…don’t matter.
I either inspire others
Or I get under their skin
And there’s NO Tolerance for me not just…taking it. Being anything less than Perfect. While still hated for it.
Or placed on a pedestal but also locked in a glass case to gather dust from neglect.
…there’s really only. Once. When someone in-person and their family has pretty much seen the full spectrum of things with me. And stuck around anyway. But I still get under their skin. But…this time…I swear I’m seeing evidence of them doing self-improvement (although the one I have the greatest pull towards (brain wHY?! CHILL!!) got pretty self-flagellating about it. Hopefully they’ve chilled out about it—they’re kind, they accepted the full spectrum when my masking utterly failed. They made me laugh and with that actually start to FEEL again. Their own ambition inspired me to just. TRY again. And that is precious to me.)
And…yeah. That’s really all I’ve ever wanted: to be accepted enough for others IRL to want to care about me back.
I’m tired of being a used bandaid.
#tiger’s roar#I do love the choir I had this academic year but#they’re a We’ll See for how those connections last. or not.#I do know that my presense at least in part was a catalyst for how tightly knit we’d become#and with some of them…I swear I saw distinct changes. not Just them opening up to the group#and well…I’m taking Some (not all) credit for this because…I’ve seen this play out now enough times to officially be trackable as a pattern#but. well. people have to WANT to be receptive of that#but it still feels…very weird. to actually HAVE a sphere of influence#instead of utterly neglected or used as the whipping girl#and I don’t know what to make of that#other than…the family at church has now earned enough of my trust that. they’re now seeing More than my kindness#and my accountability for my mental health. they’re now seeing the complete Bitterness and Grief. and they’re not phased by it apparently#they actually take it just as Seriously as me trying to make them feel accepted and trying to foster healthy communication.#especially in regards to everyone’s boundaries#…and well. we’ve all already expressed that we love eachother. directly or talking around it#and for once. I believe someone when they say it
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Buttermilk
It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au
Part 1 | masterlist
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“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”
You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position.
Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood.
“So, a nanny?” you ask.
He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache.
“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish.
“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”
A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income.
“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.
He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”
You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”
That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”
You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air.
“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”
“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”
The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him.
“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss.
“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic.
You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt.
“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”
His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you.
You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.
Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance.
You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.
“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”
“For what? To bang?”
“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”
“No kidding. The Captain?”
“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”
“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”
“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”
“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”
“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”
And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.
It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job.
You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.
To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.
Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.
Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit.
You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed.
“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.”
He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him.
“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment.
“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”
If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.
On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.
He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”
Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone.
Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are.
When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you.
You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you.
It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy.
You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.
You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.
Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.
At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking.
Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations).
The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too.
Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.
“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.
You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man.
The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin.
For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.
Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap.
Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—
You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind.
“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams.
“Not bad,” you squeak.
You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.
As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.
#ceil writing#cod x reader#price x reader#price/reader#john price x reader#john price x you#john price/reader#captain price x reader#captain price x you
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I love it when satire is brought into the mix. It shows how ridiculous and bitchy people are sounding over an adaptation. Especially, when they bitch about an actor who is pretty much the same age as the character. Just leave them be.
Guys I am soooooo disappointed in HBO 😔
You can clearly see that the horse actress (actor???? I’m not seeing any evidence it’s even a girl but that’s another complaint) has a slightly broader stripe on its face and I just 😭 does Craig not even care???? It’s like they didn’t even try.
I just don’t understand how a big studio with so many resources can be so fucking careless about the casting decisions they make smdh ☹️ it just ruins the entire experience honestly I don’t even know if I can watch. There’s no way new fans are going to buy into this. It just looks ridiculous. Season 2 TLOU is going to be a disaster. #notmyShimmer
#please don’t take this seriously#the last of us#tlou hbo#not my Shimmer#season 2#the last of us part 2#hbo the last of us#the last of us hbo#ellie williams#shimmer the horse
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Deal or deal? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
gif by @rafeyscurtainbangs
Summary: inspired by this scene in ep 4 but with my own twist and it’s dad!rafe x reader w/ Mabel 😍
Warnings: nothing rlly!
Word count: 1,075
A/n: hey so um I caved in couldn't resist writing at least one fic w the new season during my break...
MASTERLIST (dad!Rafe au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
You walk into the ensuite bathroom as you adjust Mabel on your hip. Her little hands curl around your shoulder, her head nestling against your neck. The soft scent of baby powder clings to her skin, and despite the busyness of the morning, there’s always something calming about her presence. Rafe stands by the counter, packing the beach bag with towels, sunscreen, and toys, his movements relaxed yet purposeful.
He looks up as you approach, his sharp blue eyes softening. “You’re just in time,” he says, zipping the bag with a quick motion and setting it aside. You smile back, setting Mabel in her bouncer next to him. "Thought I’d let you handle the sunscreen part," you tease, brushing your fingers gently over Mabel's soft curls. Rafe chuckles and kneels beside her, his large hands dwarfing the bottle of sunscreen as he carefully squirts a bit onto his fingers.
"Alright, princess, we don’t want you burning up, do we?” he murmurs, gently applying the cream to her chubby cheeks. His touch is so soft, filled with care, as Mabel giggles, her tiny hands reaching for his face. You smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Mabel’s head. She gurgles happily, her tiny feet kicking as she looks around, wide-eyed and curious. You turn away, heading toward the closet where your bikini is draped over a chair. The fabric feels cool in your hands as you slip it on, the rich colour contrasting with your skin.
“So,” you begin, your voice casual but carrying a note of seriousness, “I was thinking… about that business opportunity that came up last week.” You glance over your shoulder as Rafe’s eyes flick up from Mabel, curiosity piqued. “The investment thing?” “Yeah,” you say, fumbling a little as you try to tie the back of your bikini. “I really think you should go for it." He stands, moving closer, his eyes shifting between your face and your chest as you adjust it.
"Turn around," he mutters, his hands brushing against your back as he pulls the strings into a neat knot. His fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary, and when you glance at the mirror, you catch the way his eyes roam over you—an intensity in his gaze that sends a slight shiver through you. "You really think it’s that good of a deal?" he asks, his voice low, his hands hovering at your waist. You meet his gaze through the mirror, feeling the heat of his hands lingering at the small of your back.
"Yeah, don't you?" You adjust the bikini strap on your shoulder. His hands drop to rest lightly on your hips, and for a second, he doesn't' respond. Lightly biting your lip as you wait for a response, he meets your gaze in the mirror, a slight smirk playing on his lips. His eyes stay locked on you, a mix of thoughtfulness and something more. "I think you should go for it." Rafe’s eyes darken with thought, but his smirk doesn’t fade. He pulls you a little closer, his grip firm but gentle, his chest pressing against your back.
“God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?” His tone is a mixture of amusement and consideration. You give him a playful look over your shoulder. “That’s what I’ve been saying. You’d be stupid not to take it.” He chuckles, his breath warm against the side of your neck as his lips brush against your skin, slowly at first. “You always know how to push me in the right direction,” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice sending a warmth down your spine.
His hands glide up from your hips to your waist, pulling you just a little closer. You let out a soft breath, your heart quickening as his kisses trail lower. "You could make so much freakin’ money, Rafe,” you say, your voice a little breathless. Rafe grins against your skin, “Could I, now?” His voice is a teasing drawl as his lips move along your skin, causing a ripple of warmth to spread through you. You laugh softly, leaning back against him. “I’m serious!"
“So am I,” he whispers, his kisses slow and deliberate. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his touch firm but tender. But just as you start to sink into the moment, Mabel lets out a whine, breaking through the intimate bubble. You both pause, exchanging a look before bursting into quiet laughter. Rafe pulls away first, shaking his head as he glances at Mabel. “Perfect timing, huh?” he says, his smirk playful but affectionate.
You walk over to Mabel, scooping her into your arms as she quiets down instantly, snuggling into your chest. “Guess we’re not the only ones who need attention,” you joke, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Rafe grins, his eyes following you. “She’s just jealous,” he says, tossing a towel into the beach bag. Rafe smirks, watching the two of you, his earlier intensity replaced with something softer. You laugh, bouncing Mabel lightly in your arms as she grabs onto your bikini strap with her tiny hand.
“Can you blame her? You spoil me,” you tease, glancing up at him. Rafe leans against the counter, his eyes never leaving you. “I’ll think about that deal,” he says, his voice a little more serious now. “Sounds like it could be good… for all of us.” You nod, bouncing Mabel lightly in your arms. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” You say, brushing Mabel's hair. Rafe steps closer, wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling both you and Mabel into his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your head.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “We’ll see.” You can tell, though, from the determined glint in his eyes that he already knows what he’s going to do.
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx4#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x fem!reader#dad!rafe cameron x reader#dad!rafe cameron#dad!rafe au#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe cameron au#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#outer banks season 4#rafe cameron smut#rafe x sofia#rafe x reader#soft!rafe cameron
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