#and if he REALLY wanted to use the unpredictable seasons

[ace-and-ranty]

Listen, I just feel like having one (1) incoming ice age would have been conflict enough for Game of Thrones. You can have all the mounting time pressure, the survival challenges, the snow imagery, the incredulous masses, yadda yadda yadda, and you don't have to address the EXTREMELY WILD biological and societal implications of having unpredictably sized seasons.

I mean. Not that he did address the wild implications. As far as I know. Which again, begs the question of why put it in the text, if it's never gonna influence anything?

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[princessbrunette]

Rewatching season one and thinking about the scene where Wheezie walks in and Rafe quickly flips over his innapropriate magazine out of respect. Imagine him doing the same for deer!reader but because he doesn’t want to taint her innocence

waaaait why are you kind of a genius 🙂‍↕️ i see this as neighbour!rafe with deer!reader and it’s not because he doesn’t wanna taint her innocence, it’s kind of just a knee jerk reaction because he doesn’t want the hot neighbour to see his porn magazines 😒

you come skipping over, rafe barely noticing until you’re virtually right infront of him due to the marijuana clouding his brain. his hand shoots out, flipping the magazines before running a bashful hand through his floppy hair.

“wha’s that?” you hum before you even get to greet him.

“dont worry, alright - why’re you over here anyway?” he drawls, inwardly wondering why his first reaction was to be rude to you. perhaps he’s simply irritated that he got caught.

“was looking for my parents because they’re not home. thought they might be here.” you shrug one shoulder, and he nods slowly, taking a huff from his bong. you stare over the porch, looking into the distance to see if you could see them, or anyone for that matter — as you weren’t so keen on being caught with rafe whilst he’s smoking weed. it didn’t really go with your image.

“y’want some? or….” he coughs, and you turn to blink at him.

“oh, um…” you swallow, overthinking the whole thing. you knew you’d sound deathly uncool. “i don’t smoke.”

rafe wets his lips, nodding exaggeratedly as if to silently say ‘of course.’ before putting it aside. “yeah, uh… good. shits bad for you. you— you know drugs in general just fuck everything up. they ruin lives, man they — they just take everything…i mean, shit.” he rants, growing increasingly more irritated with seemingly no one by the second. at the end of his mini rage, he slams his fist into the soft arm of the porch seat he reclines on, making you widen your eyes slightly.

“yes… that’s what they told us during the anti drug assemblies at school.” you converse, awkwardly wiping your hands down the sides of your plaid dress. you knew rafe enough now to not be so deathly shy, but that didn’t rid you of your social anxiety.

“hah…yeah. shit, i forget we went to the same school. i probably walked right by you, huh.” he calms almost immediately, in the stereotypical unpredictable rafe cameron way. he did walk right past you. many times. you nod, saying nothing at all as to not give yourself away before craning to look behind you at your exit.

“okay. well… if my parents aren’t here i should head home. they’ll probably be there soon anyway.” you glance at your shoes as rafe stands, nodding casually.

“yeah…yeah.”

you go to walk down the porch steps, but stop— feeling a wave of bravery, and turn to look at him over your shoulder, adjusting the tote bag that hangs from it. “oh… and you shouldn’t read those pornographic magazines. they’re objectifying and damaging to women.” you try to hold your chin high, but feel your face get hot. he leans against the porch balcony, seemingly unbothered as you continue walking away.

“yeah well the women in these magazines are gettin’ paid a shit tonne of money so i wouldn’t worry ‘bout them alright?” he calls out carelessly as you disappear away further, before turning his back and sighing, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “shhhit.” he whispers, to no one but himself.

[ceratedfish24]

There are SO many negative nancys this season. Y’all need to cut it out. You’ve gotten so entitled.

“This was a bad wildcard” I don’t know how old you are, but I was in 3rd grade when I was taught how to give constructive criticism, and I was way younger when I learned that most people don’t like receiving unsolicited criticism. All of the players have loved the challenge of each of the wild cards. They have loved staying on their toes. If they genuinely hated it, they would have said something. Changes would be made. If it’s not interesting to you, then you can stay quiet and leave. You’ve gotten way too comfortable disrespecting people from behind a screen.

“The teams are unoriginal” Making sure that the players are having a good time is among the top priorities of this series. They are naturally going to link up with people they’re comfortable with. If you have a problem with that, then maybe you need to be put in a room with your best friends and some people you kind of know and be criticized when you gravitate towards your best friends. I don’t understand why you all are having such a problem with the concept of seeking comfort in a scary and unpredictable environment.

“Pearl shouldn’t be on a team with Cleo and Scott” well, she made her choice, didn’t she. That’s not up to you. She is an adult. She can choose who she hangs out with. Cleo and Pearl have not had significantly more of a rivalry than any other two players on the server. It seems like you’re just paying more attention to them because they’re women. Don’t try to take away from Pearl’s autonomy. Don’t try to conduct who she hangs out with. It’s really fucked up, what happened to Grian and Scar. Don’t let it happen again. Additionally, Pearl doesn’t care if you don’t think her character should be getting along with Cleo and Scott. The lore is made to fit the events of the server, and never the other way around. If you’re not creative enough to come up with a lore-reason for Pearl, Cleo, and Scott to be getting along, then I really don’t know how you’re still alive.

“Scott’s going to kill Pearl” why. Why would he do that. What record do you have of Scott betraying Pearl for no reason. The only reason he didn’t want to accept her as his ally in Double Life was because he just teamed with her in Last Life, and you all have proven just how much you’re gonna whine about a repetitive team. What history does Scott have of killing his own teammates. The biggest concern on that team is Impulse, who is notorious for holding grudges and betraying alliances. And yet your focus is on the catty two who are loyal to the core. Does that not sound like stereotyping to you? Do you even watch their perspectives? Cause you don’t act like you do.

It is a legitimate miracle that Grian is giving us another season. Be grateful, or we’re not getting another. You try coming up with balanced ideas that will last 6-8 episodes with ~15 people. See how many you come up with.

[kitkat13001]

☆⋆｡𖦹° 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎!𝙻 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

>> l lawliet x reader

i feel like he’d thrive with a pet. he’s never had any exposure to animals so it’s definitely a new experience for him. i think the unpredictability of a cat would suit him. its irregular behavior keeps him on his toes, given his tendency to analyze patterns. he’d be very affectionate with a cuddly cat 

i think he would also like the loyalty of a dog. he needs stability in his life 🫶 and a cute little puppy that’ll grow w him is just perfect for him. plus, im sure it’d force him to exercise a little more (couldn’t hurt him tbh) w all the running after it he’d be doing

he watches true crime for background noise—if he actually sits down to watch it, he’ll figure it out in the first five minutes (if he didn’t already know the case outcome himself). he needs to multitask in order to genuinely enjoy it, so he usually puts it on while he cooks or cleans so he’s not dedicating his full focus to it and proceed to act like a mom watching a telenovela 

*gasp* “they found the body in the lake!”

“hmm…that was anticlimactic.”

“‘breaking news’? i had already figured that out three episodes ago.”

“oh, i worked this case!”

his cooking is shit at the beginning. you have to be patient with him. he goes in thinking bc he’s so smart it’ll come out good no matter what. (this is the case with a lot of activities he’s now discovering due to the new lifestyle). he is wrong. 

HOWEVER…he does improve with time. he’ll follow a recipe to perfection and study it until he gets it right. the only downside is his food tends to be on the more plain/bland side, so if you like strong flavors i’d keep seasonings handy. he grew up in england, what do you expect? he does excel at making sweets and baked goods though, those tend to come out more flavorful.

for all his previously normal ‘secrecy’ he’s actually a chronic oversharer. because you’re bonded for life now, he feels the need to tell you everything, all of the time. his brain runs a mile a minute and he voices pretty much every thought he has. 

“does the fan seem louder to you?”

”no, ryuzaki. go to bed.”

“but we’re not doing anything tomorrow, so we can sleep in. there’s no need to go to bed right this instant.”

“…”

“that won’t be the case next week, though, we’ve got that birthday dinner to attend.”

“…”

“dinner sounds nice enough, but i loathe the thought of shopping for a present. maybe—“

“ryuzaki. go. to. sleep.”

“hmph.”

similarly, he has a tendency to notice your patterns (he calls it a “detective’s habit”). he’s freakishly accurate with it too. sometimes it’s useful, like when he stops at the store to pick up your favorite snacks and hygiene products when he knows your time of the month is approaching. however, sometimes it’s…just weird

“darling, do you need to use the restroom?”

“um…no?”

“really? interesting. your diet hasn’t changed the last couple days, and you usually use the restroom at approximately this time for about 10 to 12 minutes every day.”

“…what the fuck?”

even though you’ve both changed your names in order to secure your identities and safety, he still calls you by your real name when it’s just the two of you. in public he prefers to call you pet names instead of your newfound aliases

he has no issues switching back n forth and he’d never slip up for fear of exposing you both, but he just tries to avoid calling you by your cover name. he feels a little guilty because if he was a ‘normal person’ you wouldn’t have had to undergo all these procedures just to be with him. he’s used to using different names for himself, but it makes him a little sour that you now have to do that too :(

speaking of sour, he’s a veeeryy jealous man. he’s not obnoxious or even outright about it, but he doesn’t like when other people get too close to you (physically and emotionally). part of it is him being paranoid that they “know something” about you, but part of it is just bc he’s just a clingy lil guy 🥺 and he just wants to be your only special guy

he’s like a territorial cat

he gets nightmares about the kira case and all of his other past cases. he doesn’t make a scene when he wakes up from them, but if you notice he’s awake don’t ask him about them. it’s unlikely he’ll answer you, and he’ll feel bad thinking he woke you up. just pretend to still be asleep and subtly cuddle closer

it coaxes him right back to sleep knowing you’re safe and sound beside him. if you’re brave you can ask in the morning, but it’s likely he’ll have forgotten the dream by then

pleeeeassee take up yoga with him. since he doesn’t need to be crouched in his heightened-deductive-skill position 24/7 anymore, it’s a worthwhile investment to fix his posture and his numerous back problems. he might enjoy the calmness and flexibility yoga provides

he might be open to the idea of children. according to canon, he only interacted with the wammy kids once very briefly, but i like to think he was fairly involved with the orphanages considering they were raising his successor. it only makes sense they’d need to get to know him at least a little—and it would explain why near’s mannerisms are so similar to his. 

i think contrary to popular opinion he would be good with kids—in his own special way. he’s not exceptionally cuddly, but he won’t reject affection either. and his intuition and reflexes are so keen that it’s not like the kid would ever be in danger. 

he’s such a homebody. i mean, we already knew that—but him being able to go out in public now has not changed his desire to want to be alone (w/ you)

he has mixed feelings about crowded places. on the one hand, the anonymity of it is kind of nice and it sets his mind at ease that no one will be able to recognize you two in such a swarm. but on the other, someone is touching him and all the noise n stuff sorta overstimulates his nervous system

the next best alternative? take him to places that are still public and out-and-about but a little more secluded. a corner booth in the back of a little restaurant, a sprawling botanical garden, an independent cafe that’s not overcrowded, etc 

HE CANT DRIVE LMAOOO. a helicopter is one thing but cars??? on the road??? with other cars?????!!! he cannot. he’s a MENACE. hopefully you can drive, but if not then it comes to public transportation 🤷‍♀️ 

[the-main-daine]

Life Series Character Renders:

Featuring Martyn, Mumbo and Pearl

(I actually have quite a lot to say about two of these this time.)

Martyn:

Human.... ish. Hear me out on this one:

So Martyn has this fascinating background lore to the Life Series called Watcher/Eyes and Ears Lore. I'm quietly obsessed with this.

I love watching his lore streams after every series, and have come up with a few theories on my own: His thumbnails are always fully illustrated, so his character has a canon 'look' for every season, which I think is just, deeply cool.

But in his lore, there's also this space between SMPs, where the Watchers kind of... hold people until they can be used again. And since Martyn is the protagonist of the very cool story he's writing, I got it in my head that in this space between, Martyn isn't QUITE human. Maybe he was at one point.

Maybe he never was, I don't know.

But alongside all the cracks and stuff that have started to show up on his body; there's seams along the joints, and light shining within, as he starts to become more befitting as a vessel.

A vessel for what? No idea. I probably won't be drawing all those seams in any fanart comics of the series themselves - I imagine they get covered up when he's sent out into the world to interact with others in various SMPs - but I thought the idea was too cool not to draw at least once.

As a past winner, he gets his crown, and the burning eye of Mars by his name.

Mumbo:

Vampire Mumbo!

I know he doesn't have the grey streak in his life series skin but I love it too much I'm keeping it forever.

It makes him look so much more threatening and serious than he is.

Poor Mumbo. I was really rooting for you buddy. Better luck next series!

At least he still does damage with those End Crystals.

Pearl:

A lunar moth

As a winner, she gets her crown, and she gets her moon.

I'm not going to lie I want that lunar moth hoodie more than anything.

I had a lot of fun with Pearl: Her skin design is so simple (Well, maybe not this season, but usually) that it leaves so much room to interpret it. She's always going around with dogs, making her wolfish would've been really easy, but I think Moth suits her more.

There's a lot of mythology with moths being a little off kilter, mad, or leading people to madness that I think fits with Pearl's tendency to be a little bit of a loose canon, wild and unpredictable. Like a moth's flight patterns.

Red Hood Pearl had to put in an appearance here, especially with how it's sort of creeping to overtake her in Wild Life this season, and she just gets so earnestly threatening when she's on a red life despite still being all smiles and all laughs.

Unlike Gem or Cleo, I think there's an edge to Pearlie Pop on red that just reminds me of a horror monster, in the best, best, best way.

I haven't figured out heights but she's also the tallest.

[tibby-art]

what is the convexian hitman au?

To sum it up, Cub and Scar are hitmen that work for the local government, the NHO. Once human, the two made a pact with a mischievous fae entity called the Vex in exchange for power. They were once the most dangerous criminal duo in the city, until they were finally caught. They were given two options: work for the government as hitmen, or life in prison. The vex can make pacts that cannot be broken, so they have to do what the NHO says (but they find loopholes at every given opportunity).

The NHO was a group from hermitcraft season 5 and consists of Bdubs, Doc, Etho and Beef. It stands for the New hermit order and they manage city affairs and try to maintain peace (emphasis on try to).

Grian (who uses he/she pronouns in this au) is a university student studying architecture, and has a pretty normal life. That is until one day, when he comes in contact with an ancient artifact while out studying ancient architecture ruins. He gains the powers of a Watcher - eldritch beings so mysterious they were long considered to be a myth. She gains new sixth-sense abilities that are incredibly overwhelming. The NHO swoops in before Grian can hurt anyone or herself with her new powers, and takes Grian to their base, where he is studied by their best doctors and scientists for months.

The NHO deems Grian’s new abilities too powerful and unpredictable to allow him to return to society as a normal citizen, so Grian is also brought into hitmen work. Her new abilities- once she gains better control over them- can be used to help keep the city safe. Grian is handed off to the ConVex hitmen duo to be trained as a hitman abd to aid them on their missions.

There are more minor characters I’d like to introduce to the au as well! For example, Martyn is a youtuber and internet sleuth convinced that Watchers are real. No one really believes him, until Grian comes in contact with him, asking for any information about the Watchers…

I think my main inspiration behind the au was that Watcher!Grian is often depicted as this omniscient, all-knowing powerful demigod, and I thought it would be interesting to explore a Grian who has Watcher powers, but they’re brand new to him and he has no idea how to use them. Also I just like convexian as a trio lol

I want to make an organized masterpost eventually when I have time, but for now I try to keep everything in the #convexian hitman au tag! You can read a lot more about it there, there’s plenty of doodles, writing snippets and general yapping. Feel free to send asks about it :P

[honeygrahambitch]

When Will gives that lecture on Hobbs' copycat, he says the copycat will never kill like that again. And what Hannibal does next after listening to the lecture, is killing Marissa exactly the same way he killed Cassie Boyle. I find it funny that he might have been like "Are you sure about that?" Because in fact Will was right. And Hannibal knew of course that Will was right, he wasn't going to use the same design but after Will specifically said that he won't kill like that again, he felt the need to contradict him, maybe in a teasing way, like "looks like I just killed like that again, what are you going to do about it?"

Anyway I wanted in fact to parallel this scene with the one from season 2 where Hannibal is like "With all my knowledge and intrusion I could never entirely predict you." Cause he couldn't correctly predict Will's actions all the time either.

This is exactly what happened in season one. Will could not predict Hannibal's next step. And they indeed were never able to tell "oh he will 100% do this now" about the other. There was always room for the unexpected. For example when Hannibal sent Will to Tobias. Or when Will sent Matthew to Hannibal. Or Mizumono itself is the most unpredictable occurrence cause neither of them had any idea about what the other would do. Even more so in twotl.

So I find it really beautiful that they could see each other for what they really were but they had a hard time predicting each other's actions.

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐃

madeleine chase x will smith

will goes on a podcast and reveals to the world his gushing crush on pop star, madeleine chase (wc; 1.11k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ this is lowkey inspired by how tate mcrae and cole sillinger first got together + what will said in a podcast about tate mcrae (literally every man is obsessed with her and so am i)

au masterlist

It had been about a week since Will had moved to San Jose and he was… settling. California was very different from Massachusetts and everything was new. From the weather to the people, everything was unfamiliar to Will. His teammates — another new thing Will was getting used to — had been nothing but welcoming. They had been showing him around the area and making sure he was settling in well—especially the Marleau family who were taking him in for his first year in San Jose.

He appreciated their efforts, even though the move was still overwhelming at times. The sunny, warm weather of California was a stark contrast to the often chilly and unpredictable climate of Massachusetts, and it was both a blessing and a challenge to adapt to. The culture here was more laid-back, and people seemed to carry an air of casualness that Will wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

In the midst of all these changes, he was dealing with the start of the hockey season, which brought on a lot of commitments. Despite today being a rest day from all of the beginning of the season media, Will was sitting in the Empty Netters podcast studio. Will had met Dan and Chris, the two hosts, a while back, promising them he’d come on when he got signed by the Sharks. Months later, Will was fulfilling his promise.

“Alright, Will, welcome to the Empty Netters pod! Glad to have you here,” said Chris.

“Thank you for having me,” Will said, smiling politely.

“So, you've been in San Jose for what—about two weeks? How’s the transition going? It’s gotta be a change from Massachusetts." Dan asked.

Will nodded, leaning into the mic a bit. “Yeah, about that but it feels like longer with everything going on. It’s been go, go, go since I got here but California’s great. And everyone’s been super welcoming, especially the Marleau family. They’ve really helped me get settled.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, you got blessed with your living situation for your first year. I mean Patrick Marleau is a legend.”

“Not bad at all,” Will chuckled, relaxing a little. “They’ve been great. Showing me around, and introducing me to some good spots to eat. I’m trying to figure out the whole California lifestyle.”

The conversation flowed easily as they touched on his early career, what he was looking forward to with the Sharks and a few lighter topics.

“Okay, Will, to end this interview we just want to do some rapid-fire questions, alright? So these are just random.” Chris asked.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” Will replied.

“Great, first question,” Chris said, glancing at his notes. “What's your favorite movie?”

Will thought for a moment, debating between the movies he loved. “I'd have to say 'Good Will Hunting'. It's a classic and, well, it's set in Boston. Reminds me of home.”

Both Dan and Chris nodded appreciatively. “Nice choice,” Dan answered. “Alright, next up: what's your go-to comfort food?”

“Probably a good lobster roll,” Will replied instantly. “It's practically a staple back home.”

“A lobster roll from Cape Cod sounds fucking delicious.” Chris agreed.

“Alright, final question,” Dan says. “Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Madeleine Chase,” Will says without hesitation.

Both Dan and Chris burst into laughter at Will’s quick answer, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he realizes his eagerness. “Damn, you were ready for that question,” Chris says through laughter. “Can you expand on why she is your celebrity crush?”

Will chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I mean, first of all, she’s gorgeous. I keep seeing photos of her performing for Taylor Swift in Europe and… whew.” Will answers, getting another chorus of laughter from the podcast hosts. “But also there’s something about her vibe. She seems really down-to-earth and genuine. I’ve seen her in interviews and she’s got a great sense of humor.”

Dan grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Will admitted, laughing. “But, you know, it’s hard not to admire someone like that. She’s got the whole package.”

“Quick, favorite song of hers?” Chris asked.

Will didn’t have to think much before answering. “Close To You. It’s just such a fun song to listen to.”

“If you have a message for Madeleine that we might be able to get to her at some point, what would it be?” Dan asked.

Will chuckled, questioning if he really wanted to it all out bare on this podcast. “Answer my DM,” he said, confidence lacing his tone.

“No way you’ve DM’ed her.” Chris laughed.

Will simply shrugged, laughing along with the two brothers. Dan leaned in with mock seriousness. "Alright, Sharks fans, you heard it here first—Will Smith’s got game both on and off the ice."

As the podcast wrapped up, Will thanked Chris and Dan, and they walked him out. His agent was waiting, jumping straight into talking about his schedule, but Will wasn't really listening. He was still stuck replaying the last part of the interview in his head.

Did I really just say that? His mind replayed the last part of the interview—talking about Madeleine Chase with no filter, like some lovestruck kid. He cringed inwardly, imagining how it must have sounded to anyone listening. He could already hear the ribbing from his teammates once this went live, and he cringed. His agent's voice was just white noise now as Will’s thoughts spiraled, imagining the potential fallout.

Answer my DM. The words bounced around his head like an unwelcome reminder of how he’d opened himself up for a joke. What if she actually did hear it? He wasn’t sure what compelled him to be so bold, especially considering they didn’t know each other. Will had always been reserved, especially in public settings, and now he felt like he'd let his guard down too much.

“Will? You listening?” his agent said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Will replied quickly, though he wasn’t. He pulled out his phone, hovering over the podcast's social media page. Maybe I can ask them to cut that part out… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s too late. He forced himself to put his phone away, trying to focus on anything else but the possibility of his comment blowing up online.

Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the doubt. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They laughed, so it couldn’t have been too cringey… right?

Still, the uncertainty weighed on him. California was supposed to be a fresh start, but at that moment, Will couldn’t help but feel like he’d already stumbled out of the gate.

[varilien]

ive been wanting to do some redraws of the gravity falls art i made as a kid n since it's seasonally appropriate, here's some magician au doodles ^^

and just in case i don't come back to draw it again any time soon here's my thoughts so far on the topic and the original art circa smn like. idk maybe 2015 or 2016?? i wish i'd put the date on anything from back then lol

Palestine: Funds | Action | eSims | Info

Sudan Resources | Congo Resource | Lebanese Red Cross

i might change the designs later on but at this point i thought it'd be most fun to just kinda leave it really close to the originals :3

anyways!!

okay so gravity falls magician au. plotwise it's all actually about the same, the twins might be a little older actually, like 15 or 16 (maybe they've visited gravity falls in the past?), but whatever. they get sent to a sleepy little village in the woods to stay w their great uncle. magic runs in the pines family, although no currently living pines is thought to have any notable capability. healing a scratch or finding something u lost under ur bed, basically. magic is actually probably a lot more common and mundane in this world than canon, so gravity falls' weirdness as a region comes more from the intensity and unpredictable nature of the magic found there

anyways the BIGGEST plot difference is that i like the idea of the kids meeting bill pretty early on. he introduces himself as a seasoned familiar looking to get back in touch with his old partner. now, bill is a breath of fresh air for dipper in particular, who finally has someone he can speak frankly with about the weird experiences he's been having, but even tho bill loves nothing more than spilling secrets and arcane knowledge, he's not really able to do so as he'd like to. he's got TONS of spells placed on him for the express purpose of keeping him quiet, but there's a few things bill has been able to elude to if nothing else: 1, he knows who the author of the grimoire dipper found in the woods is. 2, he knows stan pines' great secret. and 3, he knows how to access magical power beyond comprehension

hehe idk i just like the idea of bill spending possibly months mentoring and making friends w the kids fully planning on just using them for his own gain the entire time but. well. maybe it's nice not being alone anymore too. tho he'd never admit it

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

One thing I adore about Bad Batch is how well it balances presenting two (or more) perspectives while allowing us to understand why each side has that perspective.

Take, for example, one of the most tragic scenes in season 1, where my heart just breaks for Crosshair...

Come on, Bad Batch, Crosshair has just saved Omega. Even if it might have appeared at first that he was pointing his rifle in Hunter's face, it's now clear that wasn't his intention! Can y'all stop pointing your weapons at him??!? 💔💔💔

And yet... I can still understand and sympathize with where the rest of the squad is coming from.

Months prior, Crosshair had started acting a little bit... off, rambling on about being good soldiers and criticizing Hunter's every move (including the decision to not shoot civilians). Then, the squad was imprisoned; then, Crosshair was singled out; then, as the squad was going to get him, he found them and shot Wrecker and threatened the rest of them. And they had to flee.

Oh, there was talk about inhibitor chips influencing clone behavior, maybe even controlling it; but the squad had precious little information to go on.

And then Rex gives them more information and dire warnings, and they see firsthand the dangers of the chips when Wrecker (of all people) goes all murder rampage, and it's abundantly clear that this must be why Crosshair is acting the way he is.

And immediately thereafter, Crosshair finds them... and when Hunter attempts to talk him down (because now they really understand what's going on), Crosshair "aims for the kid" and then keeps them trapped in an ion engine with the intent of incinerating them.

... Well, Wrecker had just tried to kill them all too, so it's understandable why Crosshair is acting this way. Not exactly ideal - especially since he doesn't want to listen to them and he has Imperial backing - but understandable.

And eventually Crosshair succeeds in actually capturing them. And he goes on and on about being better than everyone else and the value of serving an Empire whose definition of "order" involves terror and subjugation. But hey, apparently he's not trying to kill them this time... Until Hunter says no to joining the Empire and Crosshair makes it clear he considers this to be traitor talk... But then Crosshair helps them defeat the droids, so Hunter tries again to talk to him about the inhibitor chip.

"Wrong," Crosshair says. "I had my chip removed. A long time ago."

Just look at the confusion on Hunter's face as he grapples with the implications:

And then we are granted Tech's and Wrecker's reactions, with Tech's being more apparent since we can see his eyes - the shocked surprise followed by the eyebrow furrowing that reads to me as Tech trying to fit this revelation into his understanding of Crosshair's behavior:

(Remembering, of course, that Tech was the first to bring up the possibility of the chip influencing Crosshair's actions.)

"Since when?" Hunter continues in shock.

"Does it matter?" Crosshair shrugs.

"YES," Hunter insists.

"This is who I am," Crosshair responds.

And then Crosshair pulls his rifle (which we know isn't set to stun) on Hunter.

For months, Crosshair's brothers had been giving him the benefit of the doubt even as he repeatedly and deliberately endangered them; but now, he leaves them to wonder - Was Crosshair acting of his own volition when he shot Wrecker and tried to lure the others out that fateful night on Kamino? Was it his own choice to try to roast them to ash on Bracca? Was the chip involved or not when he chased them down as they were trying to leave Bracca?

He apparently doesn't have the chip now, and yet he's gone from holding them hostage to fighting alongside them against the droids to threatening Hunter again, all in the space of about 5 minutes.

And he insists that "This is who I am."

Crosshair is behaving dangerously, violently, and unpredictably, and he's said that he considers them to be his enemies since they won't join the Empire. And he keeps arguing with them every step of the way as they set out to escape an orbital bombardment.

Is it any wonder, then, that his brothers don't trust him holding a weapon, even when he's saved Omega's life?

[toobusybeingdelulu]

The thing I love most about Billy Hargrove is his unpredictability, in a show where we can see every other character’s moves from MILES away. Even those who had the potential to be the most interesting are either side-lined, ignored or return to old patterns (see Johnatan, Will or Steve). Also, they all have one thing in common, even El: they all want to be good. To do good. To be heroes. And I would not find anything wrong with that, if it only weren’t for the predictability of it all.

We see Steve Harrington with the kids in a dangerous situation. What do we assume? That he is gonna throw himself in danger for them, because it’s what he has always done.

We see Nancy Wheeler on the battle field? Then there is a 100% chance she is gonna shoot at something.

Will Byers? He is gonna protect his friends, just like the rest of the party.

Jim hopper? Joyce Byers? Yeah. Same thing.

Billy Hargrove, tho? Jesus. He is introduced to this metal badass song, then the next minute he is taunting Steve Harrington, but not really because here he is, actually giving him good advice and- yeah no, he pushed him onto the ground again. But wait, wait! He actually told him not to worry about the break up because he could basically have anyone he wanted with a face like that… aaaand yeah, he is back to being an ass.

We see him not giving a crap about his sister, yet later he is asking her if a boy has been bothering her. Then he grabs her wrist and tells her very hurtful things, yet he still tries to make it sound like a lesson. Like he had been that road before himself, many times.

We see him being stone cold, with an absent look in his eyes when he is with other people. Then we watch him dancing in his room and smiling as he gets ready for a date, and later we see him crying for the first time ever after being hit by his father. While watching the first minutes of that scene, I did not expect that to happen in the slightest.

We see him fake his concern for max to mrs. wheeler in order to get information, only to watch him refer to her as his sister when he realizes that Steve Harrington might have done something to her.

We have literally seen him trying to scare Max by driving at an ungodly speed, almost running her friends over, and almost killing Steve in a fit of rage, and then in the next season he is using every inch of his strength to protect a girl he didn’t even know from the Mind Flayer. I don’t know y’all, but I did NOT see all of that coming.

And do you know who, after his death, becomes the most interesting ST character among the protagonists? Max. We see a crack in her armour of perfection, thanks to her rocky relationship with Billy: because she had wished him to die, sometimes. I loved that twist, because FOR ONCE I had a feeling that a character among the mains was deeply flawed and human. This is why billy was needed for longer in this story.

He forced the other characters to face their darkest side, their egotistical desires. Steve Harrington enjoyed violence, deep down. He was the one to start the fight, after all. And Billy had forced him to meet that side of himself again.

Max was so fed up with him that she had dreamed about his death sometimes, even tho we all know now that she didn’t mean it.

Karen Wheeler lusted after a boy her daughter’s age, only to be met with shame when she saw her husband and daughter asleep on the couch.

Honestly, all of this to say that Stranger Things can keep its perfect ‘didn’t-do-anything-wrong-aver’ characters, because honestly? I watch tv series to be entertained and surprised, and since Billy died he also took the dynamism of the series with him.

[misshoneyimhome]

Can you do a pregnancy scare for inexperienced reader X Willy Nylander ?

Of course, I can babe 🤗🌺

Tropes & Warnings: inexperienced!reader x Willy, pregnancy scare, alcohol consumption, soft boyfriend!Willy

Word count: 1.9K

➼｡ﾟ

The hockey season was just around the corner, and everything seemed to be falling back into its usual rhythm. You were back at work, and William was deep into his training, juggling media obligations and preparing for the upcoming NHL documentary. Life felt busy but comfortably ordinary. However, there was one thing that wasn’t within the ordinary—your period.

At first, you tried to brush off the worry. With an IUD, your cycles had always been a bit unpredictable. Sometimes you’d have a light period, and other times, nothing at all. It wasn’t unusual, so you didn’t let it bother you. But as the days turned into weeks and another month passed with no sign of your period, the worry became harder to ignore.

Your mood swings worsened, your cravings grew stronger, and your temper became short. You didn’t even recognise yourself some mornings, struggling to get out of bed. Exhaustion became your constant companion, and when even the thought of walking the dogs felt overwhelming, you knew something was off.

But it couldn’t be.

You were careful, using protection, but the nagging thought that birth control isn’t 100% effective kept gnawing at you. You and William had been more than just active—your sex life was an integral part of your relationship. Whether it was gentle nights where he’d take his time, fingering you before entering you to ensure you both reached a climax, or the spontaneous moments on the sofa where you’d give him a mind-blowing blowjob before riding him to ecstasy, your chemistry was undeniable. There were also those passionate mornings where he’d lift you onto the dining table, enjoying the sweetness of your juices before watching your every move as he thrust into you with an intensity that left you both breathless. Even quickies in the car weren’t off the table, the thrill of getting caught only adding to the excitement as your breaths fogged the windows.

But with all that sex, there was always a risk. You knew that, and yet, you trusted the IUD to protect you. That’s why, when you realised your period was late—really late—you tried to reassure yourself that everything was fine. Still, doubt nagged at you, and eventually, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

One evening, while William was out, you finally mustered the courage to take a test. Your heart pounded as you waited, watching the seconds tick by on your phone. When those two small blue lines appeared, signalling you were pregnant, your world seemed to tilt.

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at the result in disbelief. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts—how could this happen? You were on birth control.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to William yet; he was already dealing with the pressure of the upcoming season and the media circus that followed him everywhere. And you didn’t want to add more stress, especially not when you were still trying to process the possibility yourself.

Yet, not knowing what else to do, you called Sanna, the one person you knew you could trust. As a mother herself and someone who’d been with you through your relationship with William, she listened patiently as you poured out your fears and anxieties. Her calm voice was a balm to your frayed nerves, as she suggested that it might be a false positive—something that could happen. She convinced you to take another test, maybe even a few more, just to be sure.

But before you had a chance to act on her advice, the situation escalated in the most unexpected way.

It was supposed to be just another casual night out, a rare chance for you to relax and spend time with William and some of his Swedish teammates before the season kicked into full gear. The group had decided to keep things low-key, gathering at a trendy but cosy bar in downtown Toronto. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and conversation, but you could barely focus on anything being said. Your mind was still reeling from the test you'd taken the day before, the faint blue lines that had turned your world upside down.

You still hadn’t told William, and every time you caught a glimpse of his carefree smile or heard his infectious laugh, a wave of guilt and anxiety would wash over you. How could you drop this bombshell on him now, just when everything seemed to be going so well?

The conversation among the group had drifted to lighter topics—upcoming games, vacation memories, the usual banter that you normally found comforting. But tonight, you felt like an outsider in your own body, barely able to engage as your thoughts swirled with the weight of your secret.

And then, it happened.

Calle, always the joker of the group, was mid-story, laughing as he recounted how their close friend David Pastrňák had not only tied the knot in a grand wedding this offseason but had also just welcomed a baby. And with a teasing grin, he added, “Seems like everyone’s catching baby fever these days. Who knows, maybe Willy’s next in line for some new adventures, eh?”

The words hit like a thunderclap. The laughter around the table died abruptly, leaving a thick, uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Only Sanna knew your secret—how your period was late, how you'd taken a test, and how the result had thrown your world into chaos. But now, with Calle’s offhand remark and your refusal to drink hard liquor—something that hadn’t gone unnoticed despite your excuse of a light headache—there was no more hiding.

You felt the blood drain from your face, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain everyone could hear it. Panic gripped you, your mind racing to find a way to defuse the situation, to explain the tension that was now painfully obvious. But the words stuck in your throat, refusing to come.

Meanwhile William’s eyes were on you, full of unspoken questions. The room, once filled with lighthearted chatter, now felt suffocatingly silent, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for what would happen next.

And when you finally mustered the courage to meet his eyes, the mixture of shock and concern in his expression was unmistakable. His easygoing smile had vanished, replaced by a furrowed brow and a tightness in his jaw that you’d rarely seen before. The realisation was there, clear as day. William wasn’t just piecing together the joke—he was piecing together the truth.

You could see it in the way his eyes searched yours, silently pleading for an explanation. This wasn’t like the minor pregnancy scare from months ago, when a false alarm had been met with nervous laughter and relief. This felt real, serious, and you both knew it.

“How about another drink?” Alex, William’s brother, casually suggested to defuse the tension. And fortunately, it seemed to work.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the conversation picking up again around you, but you and William were no longer part of it. You couldn’t focus on the jokes, the drinks, or even the concerned glances from the other guys. All you could think about was getting out of there, away from the probing eyes and the suffocating pressure.

When you finally left the bar, the walk back to your condo was filled with a tense silence. William’s hand was on the small of your back, guiding you through the city streets, but the usual warmth and comfort of his touch felt distant. Every step felt heavy, and the closer you got to the condo, the more the anxiety built up inside you.

As soon as you were inside, the tension that had been simmering between you finally erupted. In the middle of the living room, William turned to you, his voice low and controlled, but you could hear the edge of worry. “What was Calle talking about? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your hands were shaking, and the words felt stuck in your throat. You hadn’t meant for him to find out this way. This was supposed to be a conversation you had in private when you could both sit down and talk it through without the weight of an entire hockey season looming over you.

“I was going to tell you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to stress you out before I knew for sure.”

William’s expression softened, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes as he stepped closer, gently cupping your face. “Tell me what?”

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally let the truth out. “I took a test, and it was positive. But Sanna said it could be a false alarm, so I was going to take more tests before... before telling you.”

For a moment, the room was completely still, the air thick with tension. You could see the shock in William’s face, the way his eyes widened, then narrowed as he processed your words. His hands fell away from your face, and he ran them through his hair, a sign of his stress.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” William’s voice trembled slightly, though he was clearly trying to keep his emotions in check.

Your own voice wavered, heavy with the weight of your decision. “Because you’ve got so much on your mind already,” you admitted, the words almost catching in your throat. “I didn’t want to add to your stress if it turned out to be nothing.”

William exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping as he processed what you were saying. He looked down, running a hand through his hair again, clearly overwhelmed. “I just don’t get it… I mean, you’re on birth control, right?”

“Of course I am, Willy,” you responded quickly, the desperation in your voice evident. “But… as much as I hate to admit it, they aren’t always 100% safe… and we do have a lot of sex.”

He sighed again, the frustration evident on his face, but as his eyes met yours and he saw the tears that had started to spill, his expression softened.

You could see the conflict in his eyes—the frustration with the situation mixed with deep concern for you. He knew this was nowhere near your fault - if anything it was his, at least both of yours - and that you were just as scared and confused as he was.

So gently, he reached out and took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “We’re in this together, okay? No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, the tension that had been knotting in your chest easing just slightly at his words. The fear was still there, but William’s support made it feel a little less overwhelming. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t be,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug. You could feel his heart beating against your cheek, the steady rhythm calming you. “Let’s just take the other tests and see where we stand.”

In the bathroom, the minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you took the other tests, William pacing nervously outside. Finally, you emerged, holding the results in your hand, as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

“They’re negative,” you said, the relief flooding through you both. You could see the tension drain from William’s face as he pulled you into his arms once more, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

That night, as you lay in bed together, the fear and anxiety slowly gave way to a deeper conversation about your future, about the possibility of parenthood one day—but not now, not when life was already so full of challenges and new beginnings. And as you drifted off to sleep in William’s arms, you knew that whatever came your way, you’d face it together.

[hannieehaee]

THE BOY IS MINE (kofi/patreon exclusive)

18+ / mdi

summary: what happens when two pretty tennis players you'd been keeping your eye on both beg for a bit of your attention?

content: softdom!reader, sub!chan, subish(?)!vernon, reimagined version of the hotel room scene, not rlly following the movie plot, afab reader, pwp, smut, making out, a tiny bit of mxm (only kissing), three-way kiss, dry humping, boob worship, oral (m receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 3674 (full fic)

a/n: since i havent written any extra content for my kofi nor patreon even though thats one of the benefits i decided to wip up this short challengers inspired fic!! i hope those of u who read it enjoy c:

masterlist

find full version on kofi or patreon!

"Are you on facebook?", Vernon stopped you before you could take your leave.

"What?"

"He's asking for your number. And so am I," interrupted Chan.

"You both want my number?," you tilted your head in amusement.

"Seems so," said Vernon, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I'm not a homewrecker," you rebutted.

Chan chuckled, "We don't live together."

"It's an open relationship," added Vernon, "You're at the hotel in Flushing, right? We're in room 102. Come hang out with us later."

"What, want me to tuck you in?", you challenged.

Vernon smirked at this, but did not fall for your bait, "We can just keep talking – about tennis, of course."

You nodded with a chuckle, continuing to walk away from them and back to your family, ignoring any rebuttals coming from them as you left, knowing that you'd likely find yourself at their hotel room in a few hours.

That was the last exchange you had with the two boys during in the aftermath of an after party that was meant to celebrate your latest win. It was also repurposed to commemorate the future opening of your upcoming foundation.

When you had first arrived at the party, you had obviously expected a bit of attention from the attendees, – specially considering you were the guest and of honor – but you had not predicted that you'd end up bumping into two fellow players who you just happened to have taken an interest in a while back.

Their names were Vernon Chwe and Lee Chan, two pretty boys who had clearly reciprocated your interest immediately upon meeting you. You knew Vernon to be a beast when it came to tennis, something which made you develop a special type of respect for him. Chan was a little less confident in his abilities, but as a seasoned tennis player you knew that there was immense talent hidden in there.

Upon taking a break from dancing, both boys had approached you, falling into conversation with you very quickly. It didn't take a genius to realize the clear attraction they felt towards you, nor could you deny that their demeanor towards you drew you in. Before you were pulled away to sign some autographs, they had insisted you meet them by the beach once you were free from your duties, an offer which you decided to accept.

After about an hour of hanging out by the beach, you had figured out their dynamic a bit.

Vernon was the more confident of the two, clearly the leader of the duo. Chan was a little more awkward than Vernon, but he still carried an air of confidence to his person that you enjoyed. It was also easy to tell that both these men wanted the night to go in a less than friendly way – at least based off the way they stared at you all night.

You knew you'd likely have to end up making a choice when it came down to it, but did you really have to? They seemed close enough for you to enjoy them both at once, you just had to play your cards right.

~

Standing outside their door, you knocked, gluing your ear to the wood in order to take in the commotion going on inside.

The sound of scrambling and hushed rambles as they readied themselves for you was entertaining to say the least. They were clearly not actually expecting you to come see them, but you couldn't blame them – you liked to make your presence unpredictable.

Suddenly, their steps got closer to the door, causing you to unglue yourself from it as they opened it. Their breathless states matched one another as they greeted you with an awkward 'hi' and 'hey,' leading you in.

After drinking for a bit whilst lounging around on the floor of the hotel room, you began asking each other questions to get to know each other. You'd come to find that they'd known each other since they were tweens, attending the same private school together and even sharing a few intimate memories together – the retelling of Chan's first time jerking off while Vernon guided him was nothing less than adorable to you.

Your interest was peeked. Despite being in adamant denial about not being interested in each other in any way that went further than platonic, a twisted part of your brain could not help but want to test out how far they'd be willing to go with you whilst together.

"We're out of beer," you said after a slight lull in conversation, getting up as they both gazed at your legs shamelessly.

With enticing eyes, you went to take a seat on the bed, smirking as you spoke again, "C'mere."

"W-which one?", asked Chan with wide eyes as Vernon took the lead and went to sit next to you. Chan quickly followed after him, taking a seat on the other side of you.

...

find full version on kofi or patreon!

note: this is just an extra fic for the ppl who subscribed to my kofi or patreon! ill still be posting as i usually do on here c: (a full vernon fic is coming soon<3)

[sharksandjays]

Once again rambling about Jay and his awesome power. One thing I've noticed about him, especially with his power, is that it seems to tax him a lot more than the others' does. Probably because of the power and intensity of lightning. I've seen so many posts about how Jay uses a very small voltage when he fights because he doesn't want to hurt people, but what seems to be supported by the canon is that it also hurts him. Every time he deals with pure lightning bolts (rather than just shocks), he seems to hurt himself in the process. This is proven in season 14 when he is literally sparking after recharging the ship.

And judging by his expressions, it's affecting him. It hurts and exhausts him.

And in season 6 and season 8 we see how dealing with direct bolts of lightning affects him. In season 6, he screams when it hits him.

And in season 8, he gets physically exhausted for a moment after redirecting.

At least from what I have seen, this is very different from the other ninja, who seem to be able to control their elements-for the most part-at different intensities without it affecting them. (Aside from Lloyd.)

Which just brings me to the point that I personally believe that Jay's power is the most powerful of the creation elements. He doesn't use it to its full potential (and KO enemies, like he could) because, while he can handle like 900 million volts (in season 6 he's struck by like 3 direct bolts of lightning, and survives), that doesn't mean he will be combat ready after that.

This might also be why Wu brought him into the team early (with Cole). He probably needed a lot more training on pain tolerance, keeping the mind and body calm, and probably lots of other endurance training. (Which is indirectly canon with how well he was able to handle Nadakhan's mental and physical torture vs the other ninja.) His power is so unpredictable, and so his training must have been very rough when he first got his powers, which is once again supported by the canon as both Nya and Lloyd talk about how he destroyed the South(?) Wing of the Monastery with an electrical fire while practicing his powers. Wu probably had to focus on his control a lot more than with the other ninja (probably like how he had to with Nya, if you think about it. Lightning and Water are both hard to control, so concentration would be key to learn for both of them, which is ironic with Jay's fanon ADHD).

Point is, Jay is super cool and so underrated sometimes. I really think it'd be cool if the show went more into how their powers affected them! Though speculation is also fun.

Anyways. Jay with the lightning chicken because they would be (are) besties.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

August Rain [Frankie x reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (f!reader in that Frankie calls them ma'am, but otherwise no descriptors)

Warnings: Sugary cuteness, kissing, allusions to sex. Frankie mentions getting fat.

Summary: You and Frankie have tea and cake and cuddles on the porch swing. That's it, that's the plot.

Words: 1,200

A/N: @rambling-in-purple sent me a bunch of gifs (see below) to inspire me to write something starring Frankie. It took me a couple of days, but here's my lil cutesy comfort piece. I hope you like it, Lila!

It starts to rain as you’re finishing up dinner. You glance out the kichen window, sigh deeply, and grimace across the table at Frankie.

”There goes my gardening time.”

”Good,” he replies sternly. ”You’re sniffling, you should be taking it easy.”

He’s right, of course, but gardening after a long, rough day at work soothes and grounds you. You had hoped that the forecast had been wrong, that the late summer weather would be unpredictable enough to evade meteorologist analysis, but no such luck. Then again, you’ve been feeling under the weather for two days now, sniffling in the morning and beat at night. You really should be relaxing to avoid a full blown cold, or worse.

”Whatever,” you mutter, putting down the cutlery. ”Thanks for dinner.”

Frankie had been home before you, and prepared the food, for which you were grateful. To have to think about dinner on top of everything at work was a little too much for you at the moment.

”You’re welcome,” he replies softly. ”I’ll clean up, you go lay down for a bit.”

”I’m too wired.”

”You’re exhausted.”

”That, too. I’ll clean up, it’s okay.”

You end up doing it together, Frankie accepting your help only because you know that he likes doing everyday chores with you. When the kitchen is spotless and the dishwasher humming, he grabs the tea kettle.

”Cup of tea?”

”Please.”

”You wanna thaw those pieces of chocolate cake we’ve been saving?” he suggests as he fills the kettle. The mention of chocolate sends a small starter rush of dopamine to your brain.

”Hell to the yeah.”

You take out the box containing two pieces of cake from the freezer, and put it out on the counter to thaw.

”That’s gonna take a while,” Frankie points out. ”Come on, let’s go sit down.”

”Can we go out?” you suggest. ”We haven’t used the porch swing much this summer.”

Frankie accepts, and that’s how you end up on the porch swing, your head on Frankie’s shoulder, his arm slung around your shoulders, a blanket over your laps. The rain is soothing, and even if it’s not cold, there’s a melancholic hint of fall in the air. You look at your overgrown garden where everything seems to be in a hurry to grow and bloom before the season is over, and there’s something both sad and beautiful in it.

”This is nice,” Frankie murmurs, his low voice sending a warm, titillating vibration through you. ”Why haven’t we done this more often?”

”Too hot,” you remind him, and he hums as he remembers how hot indeed the porch gets in the summer afternoons and evenings.

”We still have time in the fall,” you add. ”Just have to bundle up properly.”

”I like that.”

”Me too.”

He kisses your forehead and pulls you in snugly against him.

”It’s even nicer when it rains.”

”Cosy.”

He kisses your head again.

“You think those cake pieces are good to eat now?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, they should be.”

“You sit here, I’ll them them, and the tea.”

You sit up straight and hold onto him to prevent him from rising.

“Love you,” you tell him with a grateful smile, and kiss him.

“Love you,” he hums against your lips, kissing you back until you’re done. You give him a little shove.

“I want cake.”

He chuckles, and gets up with a Yes ma’am before disappearing into the house. You pull up the blanket and redirect your gaze to the garden, looking at the sunflowers, brilliantly yellow and dramatically red in the rain. There’s still crops to be picked, the corn stands straight and proud in their patch, and you remind yourself that there is still time. Summer will linger during the days, even if the evenings and nights are getting cooler and darker.

Frankie returns carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea, and the cake slices on two plates. You pull up the sidetable to the swing, and soon you’re enjoying tea and a perfectly moist and soft chocolate cake.

“God, this is good,” Frankie sighs. “Why don’t you bake chocolate cake?”

“Because the bakery does it so much better,” you shake your head. “You know I can barely bake cookies. Why don’t you bake?”

“Because I’d do it constantly, and get really fat.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’d still love you.”

He looks at you with those soft brown eyes that still make you weak at the knees, even after all these years.

“That’s a relief. Maybe I will learn to bake.”

You grin, then see the smudge of chocolate on his lower lip.

“You got some chocolate there.”

“Here?” He points at his lips, and you shake your head.

“A little to the right, no, not there, hold on…”

You lean forward and kiss the spot on his lip, suck it into your mouth gently, tasting the chocolate on him, his scent surrounding you in the best way possible. Frankie’s arm comes around you and he pulls you in close, his lips claim your with that slow security that he possesses and that is so familiar and safe to you, and you kiss and kiss, unhurriedly, lovingly, comfortably.

When you finally have to stop and take a breather, your cheeks feel warm.

“Anywhere else you wanna check for chocolate?” Frankie jokes in a low hum, making you laugh.

“Not before I’ve finished my piece.”

“Oh, that’s right, we still got cake left…” He sounds almost disappointed, but accepts your final little kiss, and sits facing forward with you, both of you eating the rest of your cake. Mug in hand, you cuddle up to him after, sipping the hot beverage.

“We really should do this more often. Light candles and stuff.”

“We’ll see to it that we do,” Frankie promises.

The subsequent silence between you is comfortable, the only sounds the rain and the faraway din of a car passing by on the road further away. Your mind is calm even if your body still feels like it might be fighting a budding infection, yet you still feel better than you have in days.

“Frankie?” you speak quietly.

“M-hm?” he hums in the middle of a sip of tea.

“You think we could fuck on the swing?”

He coughs, then swallows the tea audibly before looking at you. You look back innocently.

“You need to be careful, I could’ve choked to death.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m an old man who could die from anything.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you remind him sweetly. He purses his lips and furrows his forehead, and you can practically see the cogs moving.

“Not right now we can’t,” he eventually tells you.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not getting undressed outside in this weather, you’ll catch your death.”

“It’s not even cold!” you protest with a smile, and now he’s grinning back.

“I’m not taking any chances. If you wanna have sex, we’re going in.”

“Fine.” You stand up, the blanket gliding off your lap on onto the floor. “Then let’s go in.”

You pick up the tray with the now empty plates, and walk ahead. Frankie stands up as well, folds the blanket, and grabs the mugs.

“Yes, ma’am…”