#but if you think there is a problem please just dm me I’m too damn old for the ship drama shit
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I didn’t create tedmort.
I want to make that 100000% clear. I didn’t come up with it, I didn’t write the first fic or draw the first art. I didn’t even come up with the damn ship name! I need all of you to understand something because even if you think it’s not important for me to be clear about this, it really is to me, in my opinion.
I don’t credit tedmort as my ship. It doesn’t belong solely to me: y’all can write it, draw it, headcanon it — it’s not mine and never was! I don’t own it and won’t ever claim that I do. I will never ever gatekeep tedmort because they’re so precious to me and I want all of you to love them and cherish them as much as I do.
Warning: Long post ahead but it’s my feelings and I really hope you all take the time out to read this.
When I called myself the tedmort ship captain, it wasn’t because I was claiming the ship as MY rarepair. It’s me saying listen, I wrote a lot of tedmort and the tags here on tumblr and on ao3 are filled with me screaming into the void about this ship. I am the person standing on the deck of the ship that is the USS Tedmort, if you will, and hyping it up! Calling all of you from the shore to come on, hop aboard, and sail with me, not for me.
I do want to be the captain of the ship, but not in an “I own this!” sort of way, but in a “come, join me!” way. I want to set up the refershment table of headcanons and tell everyone joining up on our ship to “take a headcanon and leave one of your own!” and to joke and laugh over the angst we’ve collectively put our poor middle aged men through. This is a collective and I am not in charge and don’t want to be.
At the end of the day, I do want to be known as the tedmort person. But I really want to be known as more of a guide. A person that anyone in fandom, new or old, feels comfortable with approaching because I want to share tedmort with every single one of you. I write this ship because I love it. I feel the passion that I haven’t in fandom for a long time for these two and I feel free to share it without judgement!
I just love Teddy and Mort, plain and simple. I’m gonna write whether anybody is reading it or not because I’m having fun. But I want you as a fandom to have fun too.
I don’t want anybody to ever feel like they can’t write a ship because it “belongs” to someone else. Because someone has claimed the ship as “theirs.” I know there will always be people like that, in every fandom and every corner of the internet and in every part of the real world - someone who stakes claim because they love something so much, alienating others even when they don’t do mean to. I love being known for tedmort, but other people deserve a chance in the spotlight for their tedmort fics as well.
So maybe this is me saying, I’ll be your guide to tedmort, if you’ll have me, but I will never make this ship out to be mine and mine alone. Tedmort is ours.
#tedmort#bob's burgers#caboose rant#it’s not really a rant but it’s something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind lately#and I hope nothing I said offends anybody because it wasn’t meant to be anything but me assuring all of you that I’m not in charge#I just want everybody to know that just because I’m the loudest doesn’t mean I’m the one who makes all the rules#oh and also a disclaimer!! there is no fandom drama I’m not making fandom drama#I’m just feeling really angsty about myself right now#but if you think there is a problem please just dm me I’m too damn old for the ship drama shit
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Chase the Memory of it Still
Summary: Clark is deeply, madly, head-over-heels in love with the one person he can't have. What happens when he can have him, if only for a little while? Fake dating friends to lovers superbat hehe
this one's for @fickle-tiction as payment for being a goblin in her dms LOL love ya!! the sequel to this is in progress >:) also it literally doesn't matter but vicki has a jersey shore/boston accent to me. i won't justify it.
Edit: now with a sequel, But You Were Mine
Clark has never really cared much about his paycheck—not in the grand scheme of things, anyway—but fuck he really doesn’t get paid enough.
“Sorry, Mr…Kent, but no press is allowed at the event. You’re more than welcome to wait outside with everyone else.” One of the guards—a bald fella who looks way too excited to turn him away—crosses his arms.
“…in the freezing rain.” Clark attempts to wipe his glasses on a dry part of his outfit. All he does is push the water around on the lenses. His suit’s about three shades darker from the storm. Why didn’t he wear his coat?
“You all seem quite dedicated. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” The guard smiles at him and shifts his weight, looking straight ahead as if all six feet of dripping Kryptonian have just vanished. The doorman reopens the door and shows Clark his people—a swarming mob of reporters hunched behind metal barriers in windbreakers, using plastic bags to keep their livelihoods safe.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Clark clenches his fist until it shakes. Inhale, hold…exhale. He came all the way out to cold, rainy Gotham—wait. Gotham.
He glances past the guards and sifts through the noise of the gala until he finds the one heartbeat he knows better than anything. He smiles.
“Oh, my mistake. I thought he hadn’t shown up. My partner is right there.” Clark points. They both turn to look—would’ve been an excellent time to subdue them if he was feeling more brash—as he waves across the floor at Bruce.
He looks spectacular, honestly. His hair is doing that ‘I woke up this perfect’ messy thing, his shoulders are unfairly crisp under a three piece suit that’s probably worth more than Clark’s rent, and he just…glows. He’s chatting with a young woman who looks more than happy to fawn over him. Clark’s no longer staring but gazing, he feels it, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do. Maybe Bruce should stop being so…distracting.
He sees the surprise and hears the murmured ‘Clark?’ under Bruce’s breath. He thankfully doesn’t say anything else as he approaches, just glides over with a glass of champagne.
It’s at this moment that what he’s done, what he’s implied really sinks in, but it’s too late to turn back now.
“Hey, I left my invite at your place and these…upstanding citizens can’t find room in their heart to let me by. That’s what I get for showing up to support my partner, huh?” He hopes his emphasis isn’t too much, but he really, really doesn’t want to stand outside after all of this effort.
Bruce’s expression lands somewhere between pleasure and disbelief, minute and restrained as always. It’s only the uptick of his eyebrow and the slight narrowing of his eyes that gives him away. Bordering on amusement, but not quite.
“That’s unfortunate. What seems to be the problem?” Bruce sips. The guards shift uncomfortably. Clark tries to quell his shit-eating grin.
“I guess they think you’re outta my league.” Clark can’t help but snort a little. Bruce rolls his eyes.
“Mr. Wayne, can we see your invitation please?” Baldy clears his throat and plays official, knowing damn well it won’t make a difference. Bruce hands it over without a second glance.
“You look handsome.” Clark winks at him. He could smell Bruce’s cologne before he even walked over. At this proximity, he’s starting to get a little weak in the knees.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Bruce reaches past and adjusts Clark’s tie. Nice touch.
“Alright, Mr. Kent, you can enter.” The guards shuffle aside. Just to be an asshole, Clark shakes all the water off his form like a dog, splattering both the guards with the rainwater they tried to keep him in. Their shouts of confusion and disgust are the perfect soundtrack to his entry.
Bruce offers an arm as if he hadn’t seen a thing and leads him over to the coat check, as if he would have a coat to check. He takes Clark’s glasses off his nose, dries them with his kerchief, and puts them back. Clark wrinkles his nose at the gesture—it’s so Bruce to just…do it himself.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry,” Clark sighs. The lenses are terribly smudged. He plans for a headache.
“You owe me. Boyfriend? Really?” Bruce passes him a glass of champagne.
“I know, I know. I tried to get by as press and when I saw you, I panicked. Lex is here and Lois and I have been trying to corner the bastard for weeks—��
“Hold my hand.” Bruce extends a palm. Clark chokes on his drink. If champagne wasn’t trying to migrate into his lungs, he would’ve taken a serious crack at x-raying and double-checking it was really his Bruce.
“Clearly you’ve never done this before,” he murmurs, the very same palm sliding down Clark’s back. “Casual affection is key. We’re being watched.”
Bruce subtly laces their fingers together as they walk through the crowd. Clark tries to appear as put-together and boyfriendy as possible, but when he looks around, every single eye in the place is on him and Bruce. He starts to sweat and doesn't take another breath until they arrive at a little private corner on the far side of the room.
“So, you were saying about Lex?” Bruce leans against the wall, scanning the room over the rim of his glass. His eyes catch back on Clark, warm and intense.
“I, uh…he’s here.” Clark swallows. He’s starting to feel dizzy. This is a lot. He’s used to the grit of Batman or the gentle gruffness of Bruce. Bruce Wayne is a whole different creature.
“Mhm. He’s looking for R&D investments again. I was told it’d be rude for me not to attend.” A wry smile crosses Bruce’s features. He breaks eye contact to scan and it gives Clark the wherewithal to finish his thought.
“Lex is pulling his whole ‘get rid of anyone with superpowers’ shtick again. Really mad at me specifically, as usual. I’d bet you ten bucks he has a Kryptonite ray upstairs. He’s probably in the process of building more…or something worse.”
“You have a plan?”
“I was going to go up there and, yknow—“ he mimes smashing something— “but I can hear about twenty people whispering about us and I don’t want to make you look bad. Not that you look bad, you look great! I just know your reputation is important and I put you in a weird spot and I’m sorry—“
Bruce shushes him. Clark blinks and splutters, because who shushes people, but suddenly Bruce is so close that he can’t think. He can see the tiny scar on Bruce’s lip, the one he lies and says was from a household accident. Clark wants to brush his thumb over it.
He feels entirely normal about Bruce Wayne.
“Stop overthinking. You’ll hurt yourself.” Bruce roughly pats Clark’s cheek. Clark has to actively shift his focus from the calloused warmth of Bruce’s hands to his eyes.
“Okay, ouch.” Clark rolls his eyes. “I’m just…this is your element. I’m not good at this.”
“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to stay.” Bruce tilts Clark’s chin down. Brushes some schmutz off his face.
“I got us into this. It’s alright.” Clark can’t look him in the eye. He’s so painfully aware of all the ways Bruce is touching. A perfectly choreographed performance for the outside eye. An act.
For a moment, he indulges himself, allows his mind to wander to a different world where Bruce might do this for him anyway. Somewhere so gently domestic that their rituals of touch are sacred. He wonders what it might be like to have a Bruce that’d dote on him like this, even while fussing at him.
Of course he has it now, but it’s not the same. Not when the eyes of hungry spectators cling to them from every shadow.
“I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up.” He already has his phone out and is halfway through dialing by the time Clark can grab him. Bruce spins out of the hold and starts walking away, still dialing.
“Bruce.” Clark yanks him back by the bicep. “I can survive mingling for a few hours. It’s no different than using a cover. What do I need to know?” Clark releases him only when it’s clear his stubborn streak is done rearing its head. Bruce works his jaw for a while and then sighs.
“When you’re talking to these people, they’re going to try and get to the center of you. Try not to lie. The truth will always be easier to remember. Just repackage it.” Bruce adjusts the clean lines of Clark’s suit with his fingertips, procedural and routine. Clark wonders briefly how many times he’s done this.
“Makes sense. Anything else?” Clark takes a measured breath.
“We have to sell this. People need to see easy affection before they believe that we’re…doing okay. Now, imagine someone’s watching us—“
“Are they?” Clark tries very hard not to scan the room. He starts to sweat.
“Shh. Someone’s watching us and you notice. They’re definitely gossiping. What do you do?” Bruce raises an eyebrow. The light of the obnoxious chandelier on the ceiling gives him a gentle glow. His eyes crinkle at the corners just slightly, even without a smile, and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. The surge of emotion in Clark’s chest knocks him off balance.
“Well, staring isn’t—“
Clark kisses him breathless.
Bruce leans into it, one hand cupping the back of Clark’s neck. There’s a perfect sunburst of giddy adrenaline—his hands find Bruce’s hips and pull them closer. Bruce’s heart thunders in his chest yet his hands are steady as they brace against Clark’s back. Clark cups Bruce’s jaw and brushes his fingers through the gentle stubble there, lets it tickle at his fingers.
Clark breaks them apart with a quiet, triumphant chuckle—years worth of watching, waiting, and yearning all cresting towards this one moment. He can hear their comfortable status quo shatter as he does, but it’s worth it. It has to be.
“Wow.” Bruce smooths his hands down Clark’s chest. He can’t tell anymore if the heartbeat thundering in his ears is Bruce’s or his own but he doesn’t care to know—if it’s the former, he’ll combust. Or faint. Somewhere in there.
“How’d I do?” Clark manages to adjust his glasses without snapping them clean in half.
“I might have a few pointers,” Bruce clears his throat and looks away.
“We have plenty of time.” Clark steals another kiss and thanks the universe that Lois isn’t here to talk some sense into him.
……..
“So, you and Mr. Wayne, hm?” A blonde woman with a massive fur shawl wound through her arms sidles up with a glass of champagne. Clark freezes at the snack table.
“Hm?” He hides the multiple horderves in his hand behind his back. He’s very acutely aware that he shouldn’t be unsupervised right now, but Bruce is being flocked by investors with no hope for escape. He sneaks a pleading glance in Bruce’s direction.
They do lock eyes above the crowd, but the horde encircling him has the tenacity of seagulls on the boardwalk. Bruce apologizes with his eyes. Clark resigns himself to perish.
“Phyllis Hough, a pleasure.” She extends her hand to him and he takes it out of practice, kissing the knuckles. Her skin is so dry and clammy that he has to bite back the urge to gag.
“Clark Kent, Daily Planet.” He presses his lips into something like a smile.
“Forgive me for intruding, but you’ve been the talk of the party since you arrived. How did you and Bruce meet?” She sidles too close, like they’re sharing a secret about someone else. Her demeanor reminds him too much of the foxes that used to terrorize his chicken coop growing up.
The truth is always easier to remember. Just repackage it.
“Well, he…needed my help. We met through work. We realized we worked well together and after that, everything sort of fell in place.” Clark shrugs.
“That’s just darling. My husband and I met on a mission trip to Ghana.” She points to a deflated puddle of a man who’s leaned up on the bar, looking like he’d rather disappear than be here.
“A mission trip? That’s so…necessary.” Clark smiles and tries not to throw up in his mouth.
“I adore helping the less fortunate. It’s a hobby dear to my heart.” She places a hand on her chest, showing off the obnoxious diamonds on her bony fingers. Diamonds likely stolen from the same places she claims to ‘help’.
“Ah, Mrs. Hough. Looking lovely as always. Do you mind if I steal Clark from you?” Oh thank god.
Bruce gives her a quick spin, using the move to squeeze closer to Clark’s side. He winds an arm around Bruce’s waist. Bruce rests his hand overtop Clark’s and he can’t help but grin like an idiot. He’ll never get over the little zing of his nerves every time they brush hands.
“So soon? We were just getting to know one another.” Mrs. Hough tries to slide back into their space. Bruce stares her down, but not unkindly—just a blank, mannequin-like stare and a smile that almost looks real.
A tense silence blooms between them. Clark’s sure if he listens just a bit harder, he’ll hear Bruce cursing this woman to high-heaven in his head. The silence stretches on.
“Forgive us. We haven’t spent much time together this week. I’ll admit I’m a little clingy. I never like to be far from him.” He cups Bruce’s cheek and gives him a quick, chaste kiss. Bruce chases his lips and lingers longer. Clark actually gets a little lost in it until a feeble cough splits them apart.
“Well, who am I to interrupt love?” She strains the word strangely. “I best take my leave. I’ll see you around, gentlemen.” She waves over her shoulder and traipses back into the crowd. As soon as she leaves, Clark heaves a deep, weathered sigh.
“How do you do this? I’d rather chew off my own fingers than rub elbows with these people.” Clark takes Bruce’s glass from his hand and downs it. The fizz is nice, but it might as well be water. He starts munching on his poached horderves.
“Trust me, it’s not fun for me either.” Bruce grumbles, plucking a cracker with crab dip from Clark’s little stash.
“Why do it then? Why pretend?”
“It’s part of the job. You know that better than anyone.” There’s something so very tired in Bruce’s eyes. Even as he smiles, it’s empty and rueful—the light doesn’t make it to his eyes.
“You don’t have to do that with me.” Clark squeezes his shoulder. Bruce’s gaze drops to the floor and his shoulder sag minutely, the tiniest give in his guard that Clark’s privileged enough to see. For a moment, he’s not Bruce Wayne but Bruce.
He doesn’t lean to catch Bruce’s eye—he knows he hates that—so he just stands there and rubs circles into his shoulder.
“I like who you are under the mask.” Clark offers him another cracker. Bruce takes it and taps it against Clark’s last ones, as if they’re holding glasses, and pops it in his mouth. Clark snickers. Only Bruce could make something so dorky look so charming.
“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Bruce?” A feminine voice cuts through the din with ease. Clark catches the moment that Bruce’s muscles lock up and the eyeroll before he turns around. Just like that, Bruce Wayne returns.
A woman in a long green gown slinks across the floor. Her posture sets her aside from everyone else in the room—her stance is powerful and lithe.
“Vicki. It’s been a while.” Bruce gives her that practiced smile he’s been wearing most of the evening. His posture is so unnecessarily rigid that Clark rubs his back before he can think better of it.
“How’ve you been, Brucie? Hear you’re gettin’ into some interesting trouble. Speaking of trouble—“
“Vicki Vale, Gotham Gazette.” She sticks out her hand to shake. Tall, blonde, terrifying eyes—yeah, he could see how she would be Bruce’s type. Definitely an ex.
“Clark Kent, Daily Planet.” He shakes her hand. “I thought press weren’t allowed in.”
“I have my ways. So do you, it seems.” She winks and passes him a flute of champagne. He graciously accepts.
“Ah, well. Perks of being around this guy I suppose.” Clark bumps Bruce’s hip a little. Bruce looks so startled by the motion that Clark can’t help but laugh a little.
“Listen, Clark, I’ve been with Bruce before and—“ she leans in close but doesn’t whisper, like she’s giving the world’s most public secret— “He’s honestly a softie under all the suits and cars.”
“I am not a softie. I can hear you.” Bruce shoves his hands into his pockets. Even though he’s turtling, there’s a levity to it.
“He has a thing for stubborn asses who get into trouble, ‘cause he is one. If that’s anything like you, you’ve got a good thing going here.” She smacks Clark’s chest with the back of her hand. Her honesty is…jarring, but not unfun.
“Oh, do you now?” Clark raises an eyebrow at Bruce over the rim of his glass.
“It’s not a thing. I don’t have a thing.” Bruce grumbles, the faintest hint of pink tinging his cheeks.
“Kinda sounds like you have a thing, Brucie.” Clark grins. Bruce scowls. He might be pushing his luck but it’s the only fun he’s really had all night.
“You two been together long?“ Vicki snatches a fresh glass from a passing waiter like a viper.
“Few months. Feels like longer.” Bruce doesn’t skip a beat. Clark hopes his smile makes Bruce’s tone sound less under duress.
“Wow, that’s pretty serious. Congrats.” She raises her glass in salute. Clark wants to cut in—that absolutely felt sarcastic—but Bruce gives his hand a squeeze.
“Can’t imagine life without him.” Bruce gives him such an earnest look that Clark has to avert his eyes before he gets too hopeful. His stomach twists. Play the part.
“Do you got somethin’ you like most about him?” Vicki locks onto Clark and he jumps a little. She dissects him with her gaze in that way only journalists can. He does his best not to shuffle under her scrutiny.
“Vicki, I hope this isn’t an interview.” Clark gives her his best stern stare.
“If it was, you botched it.” She bumps shoulders with him. “I’m kidding. Off the record. I haven’t seen Bruce glow like this, ever. Just lookin’ for your secret.“
That sends a sweet, traitorous flutter through his ribcage.
“Do you want to dance?” Bruce abruptly turns on his heel and shoves his hand into Clark’s personal space.
“Do…you want to dance?” Clark furrows his brow. Bruce looks like he might explode.
“Come on.” Bruce pulls Clark onto the dance floor.
“Bye, Vicki!” Clark calls over his shoulder, but Bruce is spinning him into the gentle embrace of violin song faster than he can resist. They glide far, far away from that corner of the room, losing her verdant silhouette in the crowd.
“Be honest. Did you just run from your ex?” Clark laughs, trying to keep in time with Bruce’s steps. He’s always had two left feet, but Lois had forced him to go to ballroom dancing classes with her enough times for him to pick up some semblance of rhythm.
“No.” Bruce leads just a little too fast for the music at hand. Clark drags his feet in an effort to slow them down.
“I don’t buy it. You would’ve been happier to see Harley than Vicki.” Clark almost dips Bruce on autopilot. He course-corrects pretty quickly and pulls a tight-lipped Bruce close instead. Nearly cheek-to-cheek, Clark takes the lead as easy as breathing.
Clark isn’t sure when he started humming, but he lets the music take them both. Bruce allows him to maintain the lead, surprisingly, and he guides them languidly around the dance floor. He even twirls Bruce, shocked he gets away with it, but he’s too wrapped up in whatever this is to question anything.
When Clark pulls back a bit to tease, Bruce is staring at him with those wide, pretty eyes.
“What?” Clark can hear the gears in Bruce’s head turning, even when there’s nothing to say. A remarkable talent.
“I…didn’t know you could dance.” Bruce shifts his hand from Clark’s shoulder to his back.
“I’m full of surprises.” Clark grins. Their form slowly morphs from proper ballroom to a casual, dance-in-the-kitchen kind of waltz--Clark links his fingers with Bruce’s and leads them by the hands, they somehow find a way to get closer to one another, and they end up in a slow, gentle sway.
“We should dance more.” Clark spins Bruce again and they end up back-to-chest, arms crossed over Bruce’s torso.
“You can’t be serious.” Bruce’s ears are adorably rosy. Clark chooses to remain alive and not comment on it.
“It’s good for you, Bruce! Lord knows you could use the smiles.” Clark spins them again, back to proper form. Bruce’s whole face scrunches and he stops in his tracks. A tinnitus-like sound ringing gently from Bruce’s ear and into their personal space makes Clark wince a little.
Of course he’s wearing comms.
“Diana’s got Lex cornered upstairs.” Bruce leans in and murmurs low in Clark’s ear. He fights tooth and nail against a full body shiver.
“Diana’s here? You called for backup?” Clark adjusts his glasses.
“If anything we’re her backup.” Bruce scoffs. “We need people to see us disappear so we have an alibi. Act natural.”
Clark walks away. Bruce yanks him back by the bicep and leans in close.
“Flirt with me. No, no—Clark, like you mean it.” Bruce compensates for the awkwardness by messing with Clark’s tie, but it starts to look like a tic more than anything else. Clark caresses Bruce’s cheek but it looks more like he’s wiping something off his face.
“I’m trying!” He huffs. “This isn’t exactly my skillset.”
“You had all of…that a minute ago—“ Bruce gestures at him— “where’d it go?”
Clark tries to summon ‘that’, whatever that means. The best he can do is scowl uncertainly and lead them back into an awkward sway.
“You could at least pretend like you like me,” Bruce huffs, uncharacteristically petulant. Clark almost gives himself away then and there.
“I’m not good at this.” He swallows and averts his eyes.
“Come on, American Pie. You’ve gotta be working with more than those doe eyes.” Bruce’s devilish smirk genuinely tears the breath from Clark’s lungs. He takes a ridiculous inhale to buy him time until—yep, there it is, the smirk disappears.
“Nope. This pie is fresh outta doe…eyes…that was going to be a dough joke but I think I should let it die.” Clark lets his forehead collide with Bruce’s shoulder as they sway, relishing in the comforting pat on the back that he gets.
“That would be merciful.” Bruce laughs.
“Did you just laugh?” Clark perks up.
“No.” Bruce’s jaw tightens. He can’t kill the sparkle in his eye though, no matter how hard he tries. It’s there and it's stunning, like the cosmos in its depths.
“You actually think I’m funny. You laughed at my joke!” Clark doesn’t realize that he’s dipped Bruce until they’re nose to nose, sharing the space of a breath. He quickly pulls him back up.
Enough dancing. Clearly he can’t handle that.
“I think you are…moderately amusing.” Bruce rolls his eyes. Clark squints.
“I think you are super…man.” Clark drags out the pause. Bruce all-but-scoffs.
“Seriously?” He shoves Clark’s chest. There’s a fondness to the gesture that makes his heart ache.
“You wanna laugh. I see it in your eyes, you do this squint—“ Clark pokes Bruce’s nose, mostly because he can’t do anything about it.
“I don’t want to laugh. I want to punch you.” Bruce gives his best scowl. Clark’s finger on his nose cuts most of the threatening aura.
“You’re smiling though. You are!” Clark scritches beneath Bruce’s chin as a fond gesture, something Lois often does to him.
Bruce squeaks.
“You are beyond immature,” Bruce huffs, jerking away from the touch. Clark’s brain struggles to reconcile what he just heard with what he’s seeing, as a suddenly perfectly-stoic Bruce adjusts his suit jacket.
Clark reaches out to do it again and Bruce latches onto both of his arms to push him away. Clark pushes back with no strain, as if the grown man clinging to his wrists weighs no more than bracelets, and repeats the gentle tickle.
Bruce smashes his chin down to his chest as a couple of scratchy snickers force their way free.
“No way.” Clark beams.
“Don’t you dare. Do not. Clark—Clark.” Bruce starts to back away. Clark snakes an arm around his waist and holds him tight.
“What? I’m flirting.” Clark presses his fingers into the curve of Bruce’s waist and it earns him a headbutt—thankfully avoiding the glasses. He finds a spot beneath Bruce’s ribs that gets a snort.
“You’re so cute. I wish you’d smile more.” Clark worms his fingers beneath the curve of Bruce’s jaw, chasing that squeak that opened up such beautiful horizons.
“I am not cute, you dick.” Bruce tries to bite at Clark’s fingers.
“Mmm, I disagree.”
“I’m going to bury you in the shallowest of graves.” Bruce grits out, curling into Clark’s shoulder. A strangled squeal flies out upon contact with his ears and Clark stays there, fascinated by the degree of squirming happening in his immovable arms.
“I’m sure you will.” He persists until finally, finally, a choked giggle emerges. It’s quiet enough to float beneath the ambient noise of the gala, but it rings loud and clear in Clark’s ear.
“Are you coming? Otherwise, I’m taking him to Arkham myself. He’s…irritating.” Diana’s voice is a tinny pinprick in Bruce’s ear, but Clark still picks up on her message. He stills his fingers.
“On our way,” Bruce murmurs. As soon as the connection is severed, Clark steals one more squeeze at his side before they vanish to the service corridors to meet Diana.
…
“Boys. You’re late.” Diana looks up from where she’s been braiding the Lasso of Hestia. On the other end, Lex Luthor hums an irritating tune.
“Busy day,” Batman grouses, flexing his fingers. He makes his way over to the contraption in the corner and starts picking at the wires.
“Whatcha got over there?”
“A highly concentrated laser stocked with a rainbow of Kryptonite strands. We were right on time.” Batman dislodges something with a mighty crack. In his hands, a glass capsule full of suspended Kryptonite crystals glitters in the light. The lenses on the cowl flick blue as he analyzes them further.
“Well, Lex, you’ve just made me ten dollars richer.” Superman puts his hands on his hips. He can feel the faint, crawling fatigue starting to burrow into him from the proximity of the Kryptonite, but he resists it. He yanks a handful of wires free from the machine, crushes the focus, and kicks the motherboard hard enough to disintegrate it.
“I hope your investors don’t hear about this,” he tuts, crossing his arms. “I’d hate for Wayne Enterprises to leave you in the dust for the…what, sixth year in a row?”
“We’ll see who’s laughing soon, Man of Steel. Your supposed altruism is nothing but your own selfish desire, fueled by greed—“
Superman knocks him out before he can finish.
…
“What the hell do you gel your hair with? Cement?” Bruce ruffles Clark’s hair again with a scowl. It doesn’t move.
”Mrs. Duvet’s Quick-Dry Iron Hold gel. Otherwise it gets super obvious when I’ve been out flying.” Clark carefully starts pulling strands to the front, mimicking Bruce’s helmet hair.
“Of course you do.” Bruce continues carefully messing with his hair. Clark shivers at the fingers on his scalp.
“I can just wet it and shake it out real quick?” Clark grabs for the sink handle and starts sizing up how to fit his head into the basin.
“I’d rather not leave a soaking wet bathroom for the custodians.” Bruce runs his hands beneath the tap, then holds them towards Clark. “May I?”
He nods numbly. Bruce runs his hands through Clark’s hair and he utterly melts into it. Oh, it’s a crime this won’t last.
“Looking like, uh, we had sex is a lot harder than I thought it would be.” Clark starts fiddling with his tie. He can feel his face heating up at the idea of it.
“There is an art to it. Here, let me.” Bruce takes the ends of the tie and gives it a quick full Windsor with practiced hands. Then he loosens it just right.
“Honestly, Bruce, no one will notice if I sneak out. I’m just some reporter they’ve never heard of.” Clark’s eyes dart to Bruce’s lips for a moment.
“These people have nothing but time and wealth—they’re always looking for gossip. We disappear and you don’t come back? In two days, someone will find you and hunt you down for the exclusive on our ‘tumultuous relationship’.” Bruce fiddles with Clark’s shirt collar. Undoes a button.
“So I’ll tell them we went our separate ways. Big deal.” Clark clears his throat.
“Vicki and I broke up eight years ago. To this day, she still gets harassed by paparazzi on her way to work. Maybe that doesn’t bother you, but what are you going to do when people with cameras and time start realizing how much you disappear from the Daily Planet?” Bruce makes an exasperated hand gesture that seems to lack a target.
“Fair enough.” Perry and Lois can only protect him so much. Bruce, regrettably, has a point.
“We’re playing a part. After this, you won’t have to worry. I’ll give a statement that we quietly split and in a week or two, you’ll be left alone. Let’s focus on getting out of here.” Bruce returns to fiddling with Clark’s hair.
Clark takes Bruce’s hands in his own. His breathing stutters a bit.
“Can I kiss you, Bruce?” Never has a question felt so heavy, so precarious.
“Is there someone in here?” Bruce’s voice drops low, eyes darting to the stalls.
“No! No, I just thought it’d be easier to…y’know…rather than faking it.” He can’t bring himself to look Bruce in the eye. He loses track of whose heartbeat is thundering in his ears. He feels like he’s back in high school and fumbling his way through practicing in the mirror.
“What?” No going back now.
“It would just be for a minute or two. It might be more effective than pretending. We could kiss a little. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Clark shrugs. Yeah. Logic is good. This is strictly a business arrangement. Friends kiss sometimes. They’ve been through hell and high water together, this should be easy.
Bruce stares at him for a long while, long enough to make him sweat, to make him sick. Years of friendship and trust suddenly hang in the balance and he’s not ready for that. He’s not ready to lose that. What the fuck has he done?
“I—“
“Are you…reasoning your way through making out with me?” Bruce puts his hands on his hips, expression utterly unreadable.
“Maybe?” Clark swallows.
Silence envelops the bathroom. Clark starts running through ways to retcon the worst mistake of his life—passing it off as a joke? Yeah, that might work. He starts to fumble his way through the syllables of an apology, when—
Bruce laughs. Hand on the wall, shoulders shaking, laughs. He tips his head back as the last snickers float and echo. He looks at Clark down the length of his nose, still beaming. It’s the rarest thing he’ll ever see and he commits every detail to memory.
“I don’t think anyone’s asked so nicely before. Is this how they do it in Kansas?” Bruce unravels Clark’s tie in seconds. He wraps both ends around his knuckles idly, hanging his wrists off of Clark’s shoulders.
Clark grabs both sides of Bruce’s head and kisses him deeply to shut him up. Bruce tilts his head and pulls Clark roughly forward, slamming them both into the wall. He lets out a beautiful little noise as his hands slide beneath Clark’s jacket and absolutely ruin the clean press of his shirt. Clark has half a mind to hoist Bruce onto one of the sinks, but he resists.
He’s beautiful. It’s the only clear thought that runs through Clark’s head as he starts unbuttoning the buttons of Bruce’s shirt. He tilts Bruce’s jaw up and presses tender, lingering kisses down the column of his throat. Bruce pulls at Clark’s hair, forcing his head up, and catches his lips with a growl.
“That’s how we do it in Kansas.” Clark breathes, hovering in Bruce’s personal space. His glasses are fogged and smudged but he can still see the tantalizing tilt of Bruce’s lips.
“Again, I have a few pointers—“
This time Clark does pick him up. Bruce’s eyes go wide.
“Nevermind.” Bruce pulls him back in with a forearm around the neck. Clark surges forward and mouths beneath Bruce’s jaw. He can feel Bruce’s heartbeat nearby and he hunts for it, spurred on by the storm of his own want. When he finds it, he sucks slow and steady against his warm, soft skin until he’s sure it’ll bruise. Bruce lets out a keening whine that stutters into a gasp, gripping Clark’s shoulders. His thighs clench around Clark’s waist.
Clark’s better judgment grabs him and he breaks them apart. Bruce doesn’t move away and that lights his brain up like a Christmas tree. He hovers there for far too long, fighting tooth and nail against the urge to chase the adrenaline. Bruce looks utterly sinful in his grip, flushed in a way Clark hasn’t ever seen.
The concept of self-control comes to him in a whisper like it’s foreign. He remembers himself.
“Are we…good?” Clark vaguely realizes he’s still holding Bruce and sets him down. He’s buzzing from head-to-toe, like he’s just taken a full day’s nap in the sunlight. He’s not entirely certain he can feel his face. He touches his own lips reverently.
“What? Oh. Yeah, c’mon.” Bruce grabs him and leads them through the venue.
When Bruce pulls him through the party and towards the front doors, he doesn’t even process the prying eyes and whispers. All that matters is Bruce’s hand gripping his own.
Clark’s determined to catch this shooting star in his hand, even if it doesn’t last. Even if it burns him down the line.
#my fics#dc#superbat#bruce wayne#ticklish!bruce wayne#clark kent#diana is here im not tagging her#SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD#ask to tag
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♡ BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND — HONG WOOJIN
brother's best friend!woojin x fem!reader (ft. brother!gunwoo) | wc : 0.5k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, angst if you squint, woojin being a flirt and it backfiring on him lmao
“hey, hey, hey! look, it’s my favorite best friend’s sister!”
it was almost two weeks of hong woojin visiting you whenever he could to brighten up your day and fill in for your brother.
ever since your brother, kim gunwoo, left for his tournaments, you were a mess. and woojin knew that — which was why he volunteered to check on you every so often before his best friend could even ask the favor.
woojin could never admit it to gunwoo, but the truth was, he had a crush on you — and just couldn’t bear to see you so sad. but little by little, with his visits, he brought a smile to your face.
and little by little, you started falling for your brother’s best friend.
you never really meant to, but with woojin being so caring, there was no way you could stop yourself from liking him. sure, he was your brother’s best friend, and if your brother found out, he’d probably not like it, but that problem would never arise.
because you were so damn sure nothing would ever happen between you two.
“gunwoo said you cried during your video call with him earlier.” woojin sat next to you, his voice soft. “you know, we can talk about it. it’ll just be between us, i promise.”
this was exactly why you kept falling for your brother’s best friend; he was an absolute gem.
“when we were together, gunwoo would nag me every day, but now it’s not as often,” you muttered. “weirdly enough, i miss it.”
“well, i mean, i can always nag you. you know, just consider me your big brother. i’m your brother’s best friend anyway, right?” woojin bit his lip, regretting his choice of words as soon as they left his lips.
“there’s no need for that, woojin.” you scoffed, shaking your head. “i have no intention of considering you as my brother.”
the male raised his brows, surprised by your response. “oh? then what do you want to consider me as? your boyfriend?” he playfully responded, leaning closer to your face as he grinned.
“w-what? no, i–”
“your husband?!” woojin enjoyed the way the heat rushed to your cheeks, feeling his heart flutter when you pouted at him. “woah, i didn’t think you’d have such long-term plans with me.”
you chuckled, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. “of course, i planned for the long term, hong woojin.” you leant closer, your smile never fading. “i also came up with baby names. wanna hear?” you quipped.
the seriousness in your voice paired with the proximity of your faces was too much for woojin, causing him to choke on air as you laughed, satisfied with the outcome.
you had played an uno reverse on your brother’s best friend, and he seemed to believe every word.
“w-wait, are you for real?” he couldn’t help but ask, not having noted the sarcasm behind your voice. “like, baby names and all?”
you stood from your place, walking towards the door before looking back. woojin followed your steps, the clueless look on his face giving you butterflies with how adorable he looked.
“take me out on a date first, and we can find out if the baby names are real.”
TAGLIST :: @missscarlettangel (TO BE ADDED, PLEASE COMMENT, SEND AN ASK OR DM!)
#[📝] works#bloodhounds#bloodhounds imagines#bloodhounds scenarios#bloodhounds x reader#bloodhounds woojin#woojin imagines#woojin scenarios#hong woojin imagines#hong woojin x reader#hong woojin drabbles#bloodhounds drabbles#hong woojin#bloodhounds kdrama
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intro post <3
Hey there!
Im Jamie and my pronouns are They/She/he
Im a neurospicy minor (but I will swear and also am fine being moots with/talking to adults as long as no one is a creep to me it’s all good)
Uhhh welcome to my online diary :|
Happy to make friends if u want - feel free to DM me
online diary blog w lots of Neil Gaiman reblogs bc he’s my idol
Fun facts about me:
Umm ok (trying to think of fun facts now)
Im Italian but grew up in England, would love some more Italian moots <3
my favourite authors are Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett (but it’s been like that since before I read good omens lmao) also Rick Riordan and Alice Oseman
certified gravity falls child
if u couldn’t tell by the URL I’m obsessed with Greek and Roman mythology
nostalgic for a time I wasn’t even alive - late 80s and early 90s mainly but also like 70s
nostalgic for a time I WAS alive (barely but it still counts bc I do remember it) - the late 2000s
I did a quiz to see what Beatles band member I’d be and got Paul Mcartney
damn u rlly don’t realise how boring u r till u try and do an about me huh
Music I like:
Hozier, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray, Harry Styles, YUNGBLUD, Beatles, Elton John, Queen, Renée Rapp, TV girl, bears in trees, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA, Fleetwood Mac
getting into:
Nirvana [used to love them a few years ago but then a mean girl made fun of me for it so I stopped listening to them but I’m starting again]
Dominic Fike Paramore
mother mother
MCR
the neighbourhood
The tags I will use:
Jamie answers asks - u guessed it this is for answering any asks
the most boring soap opera - my life stuff because my life is the most boring soap opera
MOTD - mood of the day which is just a lil thing I do
for the record:
I stand with Palestine 🇵🇸
please click here every day:
also free Ukraine 🇺🇦
aro and ace people are LGBTQ+ and this is an aro and ace and aroace safe blog
in general this is a COMPLETELY safe space
if u want anyone to talk to btw I’m always here to chat, can’t guarantee i’ll be able to help but I am always willing to listen literally any time we don’t even have to be moots or anything just DM me ok? Ily all take care of yourselves ok loves? <3
Also one last thing just for ppl that know me, I have no problem with u following this blog or anything but be warned that I’m not gonna filter my opinion at all on here bc I need a place to be myself and if u don’t want to see that i understand and idm just pls don’t take it as a personal attack or anything if u ever think something I post relates to you, I promise it’s not I just need to vent <3
My MOTD ratings:
0-2 > feeling really really really shitty
3-4 > shitty like I have too much sadness and anger and everything inside me and it feels horrible and yeah yk [reckless behaviour is strong here for me + pretty strong intrusive thoughts]
5 > normal. Numb. Yucky. Normal level of intrusive thoughts [for me at least, everyone is different]
6-7 > smol happy, probably was a bad day that got better
7-8 > :D
9-10 > fucking ecstatic
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Just a little rant here about my personal life so feel free to skip lol
I know nobody is gonna read this and I’ll probably delete this when I’ll come to my senses but right now I feel so depressed I just need to get this out of my chest. I always felt tumblr like a safe space so here I am.
I don’t know if you remember the times where I took some time off because of anxiety and my mental health.
Lately it feels like it’s getting worse and I really don’t know what to do, I don’t know if many of you will relate (I really hope not) but it’s just like I don’t know how to be happy and I really hate it here man. I’m so tired of feeling like this, always worrying and having anxiety about something I don’t even know about. I feel so crazy sometimes you know? Like there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m honestly so grateful for the things god gave me. I’m healthy, I have a loving family (even if sometimes they’re overbearing to the point of crazy), I get to study for my dream job, I have a bf that puts up with my ass, friends even if few of them, there’s nothing wrong there are so many worse things people go through and I don’t even have to right to rant about any of this. So why do I feel like I don’t deserve any of this?
I have such deep trust issues it’s ruining my life and relationships, I don’t know why. I hate myself and I sometimes think I don’t deserve to be loved, I’m not that speciale and I’m so damn insecure that every good thing that happens in my life I can’t help but think it’s gonna fade in a minute, that something bad might happen, that I’m so easily replaceable.
Sometimes I truly think that if I disappeared no one would notice or miss me, I thought about doing it but I’m so damn scared. I don’t know where this is coming from, maybe the bullying had something with it I don’t honestly know but I’m so tired of feeling like this.
Why can’t I just love me? Why can’t I enjoy a single good thing that happens to me? Why do I keep sabotage myself by thinking I don’t deserve any happiness and it’ll soon fade away?
For example, these last two days I took three different exams and even though I’m relieved I can’t help but think I’m such a failure, that my parents are so disappointed in me for taking so long to finish a degree I was supposed to finish years ago.
I had an anxiety attack yesterday morning while I was with my bf and I sobbed for hours while he held me but if you ask me what triggered it I wouldn’t know how to answer you.
Why am I like this? Why am I not normal?
It’s just a bit of everything and I honestly don’t know what to do.
But please don’t judge me. I’m aware these “problems” are nowhere serious like some others and I’m so sorry for being so dramatic it’s just… I don’t know guys, I just want to be happy, to feel loved without actually thinking about the worst.
Am I soo pretentious? Do I sound so ungrateful? Complaining about these things when I have everything some people unfortunately dream of? I don’t want to sound like that and I feel so guilty about having these thoughts.
I know you’ll think I’m an attention seeker, fishing for compliments or things like that, I’ve been told that before here and I’m so sorry if it seems that way but trust me it’s the opposite of that. I’m telling this here because I guess it’s easier behind the screen, when no one knows you and can really judge you, but I also thing you’ll judge me anyway but at least it was good for me to let this out.
If someone reads this I hope you won’t think of me any less, and if you’re feeling something like this too I’m so sorry and if you want to talk my inbox and DMs are ALWAYS open for you guys, I’m here even if it takes me some time to answer.
Sorry if something doesn’t make any sense, I didn’t even read this back I’m just cried my eyes out while writing this post and now I have a headache. At least I hope the sleeping will be good lmao.
But tomorrow will be better, I’m sure of this.
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hi :3 I’m new to your blog but god god I LOVE YOUR CONTENT ARGHJDHDN
I never thought I could like parental / family tropes but here I am. This is too good . Seriously.
As I already said , I’m new so I might have missed if you already said this but- will there be new chapters for your story “two worlds among the stars?”
I’ve binge read it and I would really like to read more (without forcing anybody ofc!! I’m just appreciating a fellow writer’s work)
Okay uh bye
:DD
First of all, I hope you're going to see this, anon...
I feel especially bad when I need ages to answer anonymous ask, because I know that person won't get a notification, when I finally do answer it. And if that person doesn't follow my blog the chances of them seeing it are slim.
And I got this ask almost two weeks ago...
So dear anon, if you see this please let me know in some kind of way!
I said this before, but I'll say it again:
I feel so honoured every time I get an ask/comment/dm like this. Like... people take the time to write something like this, and the whole purpose of it is letting me know they like my writing... that's so wild!
THANK YOU!!!
Firstly, to answer your question:
Yes, there'll definitely be more chapters of "2WATS". I mentioned how many chapters in total I have planned a while ago, but I can't remember the exact number and I'm too lazy to look it up rn, but it's definitely going to be in the double digit area.
I can't tell when the next chapter will be out, though...
It's been a while since I've written anything and I have a hard time getting back to it. You probably know the struggle as a fellow writer.
I started to work on two other project, but everything I write just... sucks? And the motivation to work on it again just isn't there... and I really don't want the same thing to happen when I start to work on chapter 8 of "2WATS".
I know this probably won't get better if I don't write, but trying to write anyting frustrates me a lot atm...
But please don't be shy about asking when the next chapter will be out, I'm not annoyed by it or anything (as long as you're not rude about it), I believe it encourages me even to get back to writing again.
Also, if you don't mind me asking, what made you read my story? (damn, I'm hoping you read this, anon)
I know there are two people who joined the g/t community recently, who also like parental g/t, but I don't think you're one of them since you mentioned you're new to my blog, and not the community in general, and you didn't think you'd like the trope...
So what made you read it?
Like I genuinely wanna know.
I for example have no problem with reading a fanfic for a fandom I'm not even in on AO3, if the tags sound promising.
I recently read a jjk fanfic and I didn't even watch the anime, hell I barely know what it is about! I obviously can't tell, if any of the characters were ooc (the plot definitely probably doesn't have much to do with canon anyway), but I don't give a damn, because it was a foster story! And I'm definitely going to read the next chapter when it comes out! But does that mean I'm going to watch jjk? No!
And yet...
When it comes to tropes that I don't like or ain't interested in, it's unlikely I'm going to read a fanfic for a fandom I'm actually in.
So how about you? :)
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Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Eighteen.
Get ready to love me... ;)
Previous Chapters - One Two, Part One Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen
Words - 6,260
Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!
Angel's POV
"You can't drop a bombshell like that and then casually say, 'oh that's not why I'm here.' Jesus fucking Christ, Angel! I have to keep it to myself too, because it'll fuck with Edie's head even more if she knows that you love her. You motherfucker, dropping that on me," Aileen cries, waving her arm around before dropping it into her lap. "Really, I could have done without knowing that if it isn't the reason you want to speak to me." Yeah, she’s pissed. As I expected.
"I told you that so you wouldn't think I'm an asshole, one who is dicking her around, to use your chosen words. I know full well I should leave her alone, I just struggle at times, because of the very fact I love her," I admit.
"You're a vampire! Grow a pair," she yells, before drawing fiercely on her cigarette.
"Edie is my weakness," I confess, looking to my left at her. "Anyway, we're digressing. The reason I'm here is just to see how she is." I then add honestly.
"You should know, what with the blood tie," she snorts.
"No, it's wearing off with me much more quickly. It always does with the vampire, because it gets diluted the more different blood we feed on. I still pick up on her a little, but that's mostly when I'm near, and those moments are never for very long," I explain to her. That's only half true, I'll confide in you. I can pick up on her if I really focus, but it's begun to drive me mad.
"She's quiet, not her usual, talkative self. She'll bounce back though, she always does. You just need to keep your distance.” True, I suppose. If Edie is going to get over me, I need to stop following her around.
"Is she happy with that girl she's met?" I ask, unable to stop myself. Whoever she is, I want to break her damned neck. She has what I want, and I don't like that. Seething jealousy doesn't sit well with me at all.
She scratches her head, rubbing her hand over her face with a sigh. "To be honest, not really, because Katya has one problem. She isn't you. I probably shouldn't have said that, but it's true. There you go.”
"Pity I can't do anything about it," I lament. "Look after her for me. I know if anyone is going to, you will." I add to her as I stand.
"I will, goes without saying. And you stay away, you hear?" Nodding, I move out of her back yard rapidly, straight back to my own home, even though I have an urge to go and sit close to Edie's house, see if I can see her. I want to see her, but I know I have to stop. Aileen was right, it has to go both ways. She doesn't get to see me, so I shouldn't get to see her either. I miss her so fucking much, though. I enjoy her company greatly. I like her inquisitiveness, and miss her picking my brain with her endless questions. I just miss her being close by above all. Kissing her, that's another thing I crave more than you could imagine, not even the urge to have sex with her surpasses that right now. I know it would if I did ever, could ever kiss Edie again. Someone else gets that pleasure now though, that girl Katya.
She isn't happy with her though, because she isn't me, as the one-armed lady with the large glasses just told me. I wish I could be the one who makes her happy. Actually, I suspect that I am. I just can't physically be around her to do it. I'll get through this, eventually. I know I will. It'll be a test of my vampirism, to harden my heart to the woman I love when truly, I don’t want to. I thought she'd just forget about me and move on with her life, and in a way she has. What Aileen told me tonight though, it confirmed to me she hasn't fully forgotten me, just like I cannot forget her. I wish I could. I wish I could flip a switch in my brain and not have a clue who Edie Bailey is.
Work takes my mind off her, especially with the piece I'm doing at the moment. The guy I'm working on is having what will be a full bodysuit done by me, with lots of intricate cover ups of his old tattoos, everything in Polynesian tribal theme since that's his parents place of origin. The only thing I'm not to cover is a portrait of a woman on his shoulder which he wants me to go over again to make it brighter, and add her name in loopy script underneath.
"So, just to make sure I've got the spelling right before I begin adding her name," I say to my client, showing him the line drawing.
"Yes, perfect man, stick it on," he replies with a smile and a nod before I wheel myself back behind him again and position it on his shoulder.
"So, who is Anolani then? Your wife, I take it? She's very beautiful, I must say," I ask, as I begin to retouch the portrait of the woman with the long black hair on his shoulder. Whoever did the tattoo originally did an excellent job.
"I wish she could have been. She was the one who got away, sadly. When the first boats began taking the rich people out of here fifty years ago, she was on board one of them. Her family was one who had hung onto their wealth after the disaster, and they wanted to go back to Polynesia to start a better life out there, in a place not ruined by the virus. I never saw or heard from her again, not until years later when her sister got in touch with me to tell me she'd died of lung cancer at just twenty-nine years old. She was eighteen in the picture I used for the portrait you're touching up now. She was a real beauty huh?" he explains to me.
"She really was. It must have been really difficult for you, losing her like that. How long were you together for, before she left?" I inquire, adding white highlights to the face and eyes of the beautiful Anolani. I like to ask my clients the stories behind their tattoos, at least the more meaningful or interesting ones. If I'm sticking a fucking Tweetie Pie tattoo on some dumb broad's ankle, I have absolutely no desire to know why she's having it done. I don't do that kind of work nowadays, though; I'm too talented to waste it on stupid cartoon characters. Most of the work I do is custom.
"That's the thing, my friend. We weren't together. I was always too gutless to tell her I was in love with her. We were best friends; we grew up in the same little Polynesian community, and I had ample time to tell her how I felt. I never did, though, so hence why she was the one who got away. I loved her to death, it broke me when I heard she'd died, because she passed without knowing how much I loved her. I don't know about you vampires and love, but if you ever meet somebody you love with all your heart, don't you let them go, you hear me?" he chuckles, sighing. His words, damnit they just hit me like a tonne of bricks.
"I bet you wish you could rewind the time, huh?" I then add to the conversation.
"You're absolutely right, I do. My grandmother always used to tell me that love finds a way through, and I've never forgotten those words. She said I should have told her, that if I did, she might have stayed here with me. What got to me the most, though, is what her sister told me. Anolani loved me too, and if only I'd have spoken up about it, love would have found a way with us. No matter how complicated, love finds a way through any situation," he goes on to say, while I just sit and wonder if this is the universe shouting at me to change my mind over Edie.
Could love find a way through the problem that I'll end up killing her? There's something I've been toying with for a while now, but it's a risky thing to even consider. Could my love for Edie possibly quell that uncontrollable urge to drain her dry? Is there something up in my brain that I don't control, that would stop me at the crucial moment from taking her life without meaning or wanting to? It's a massive gamble, a huge risk to take with her life, a life so precious to me.
"If I ever find her, I'll make sure I don't." I humour him with, before going back to solely concentrating on the tattoo I'm working on. I finish touching up her face, add her name and then continue with the work I'm doing on the rest of his back.
"How you holding up there? If you need a break, just say so," I tell him a few hours later, marvelling to myself that he's been sitting here for three hours so far without a break in his four-hour session. Most people can't take that.
"I'm cool, my friend. Just you keep working. I can handle the pain, it's nothing new to me!" He's right there. He has enough piercings and tattoos as well as the pain he obviously carries in his heart over Anolani.
"So, are you being miserable and going home, or coming out with us tonight? It is a Saturday, come on!" Eric tells me as he walks across the studio to where the light box station is, where we draw out all of our line drawings for the tattoos.
"Where are you heading to?" I ask, wiping away smears of blue ink from the man's back.
"Up to Hell's Gate, I'm meeting a girl up there who I first met a few weeks ago, but who I've seen a lot more over the last fortnight. Oh, wait until you see her, so damned hot!" He exclaims with a whistle, while looking excited and making my client laugh. Eric often gets the comedy vote here, being so upbeat and human like for a vampire. He sets people at ease, too, with the way he is. A girl having a tattoo on the back of her neck by him recently got so upset she was in tears, so Eric just stopped and took off his gloves before giving her a huge hug. Sal and I aren't that tolerant. If you cry in my chair, you get told to calm the fuck down, same for the other Latino vampire here.
"Yeah alright, I'll come for an hour or so," I relent, figuring it can't hurt just to show my face for a bit. It isn't until about half an hour later when we're getting ready to close up the shop that I suddenly remember that Hell's Gate is Edie's usual Saturday night haunt. Ahhh, shit! Oh well, she doesn't like metal, so I'll just stay in that room all night. I won't run into her there.
"Well, I'll be in the dance room, dude. Sasha likes to shimmy," Eric tells me as we're pulling the front shutters down over the shop windows.
"That means I'll be staying in the metal room, so I don't potentially run into Edie," I state, as we begin to walk down the street.
"Yeah, cool. No problems. Just come and meet her first, though, and then you can do whatever the fuck you like with the rest of your night. Sal's already there too, he just text me," Eric replies, before we move at vampire speed in the direction of the club. When we arrive, I do as I promised and go with Eric to the dance room to meet this girl Sasha he's been raving about, and as soon as I see the leggy girl with the wild blonde curls walking towards us, I groan internally.
I swear, someone is playing a joke on me. This absolutely, positively cannot be happening. The girl Eric is seeing, she's Edie's best friend. Oh, why? Why is the universe playing games with me? Out of all the fucking women Eric could have met, why did he have to meet and like the one who is so close to the woman I can never be close to?
"Sasha honey, this is my friend and business partner, Angel. Angel, Sasha," Eric says in way of introduction.
"Yeah, I know who he is," Sasha states uncomfortably, smiling at me a little sadly. Eric looks confused.
“She’s Edie’s bestie,” I whisper.
"Shit, you're joking me! Ahh, crap," he winces.
I smile thinly, leaving them to it, standing at the rail for a little while, looking out for the one I love so fucking much, it hurts. I then turn away, shaking my head. Nope. Can’t do that.
Ursula often says she believes in energies working all around us, changing and shaping our very lives and what happens to us. She firmly believes in reason and that nothing is random. The man telling me about his lost love, and now Eric associated with someone so close to Edie, I have to wonder if it is coincidence, or if these things happened for a reason, as my creator would say they have. It's suddenly like I can't think where Edie is concerned, my thoughts keep cutting out. Leaning back against the balcony rail, I watch Eric handing Sasha a drink before picking her up and sitting her on his lap. I then overhear her telling him about her day when he asks, and him the same afterwards when she asks inquires.
I wish I could have something so simple with Edie. Oh, how she consumes me. I can feel she's somewhere near, her pull to me strong. When I turn around and scan the dance floor, there she is, my beautiful love. Except she isn't mine, since she's with the girl Katya, and it makes me sick to the root of my fangs to see them have a good time together. When I witness Katya stop dancing to put her arms around Edie and kiss her, I watch Edie offer her cheek instead of her lips, and even that is bad enough for me to endure. In fact, it’s so bad that as I watch them, I begin to question myself, question just how much pain I can take. Would Eric's suggestion of silvering myself to have sex with Edie truly be more painful to me than existing without her? I can't even manage the time I’ve been without her, so how am I going to deal that for a longer period? I can't, and it’s honestly that simple.
I realise now that I can't be without her, and whatever pain I have to endure to be with her, then I'll endure it. That will be a true test of my vampirism, to allow myself what I want, but suffer for it. She's worth it.
Watching Edie, I see her beginning to look around, knowing she can feel me nearby. Just look up here, my baby. Let me see those pretty blue eyes... and there they are, locking onto mine as she stares up at me from the floor to where I am here on the balcony. She comes to a total stop, staring right at me, so many emotions showing on her face. I then watch Katya pause to look at her, turning her head to follow her line of vision right up to me, before turning back to Edie and giving her a mouthful of shit that I tune my ears in to hear over the roar of the music.
“Who's that guy on the balcony you're checking out? Edie you're meant to be here with me, so be here with me. If you wanna be a whore and go for him, then at least have the decency not to do it while I'm standing right in front of you!" Oh no, you did not just call Edie a whore within my earshot. Bad move, Katya.
"Did you just fucking call me a whore?" I hear Edie challenge her with. That's my girl, she never lets anyone get away with being an asshole to her. Katya replies, and before long, they're having a full-scale argument in the middle of the dance floor. I watch it unfold, unsure of what is holding me back, until I hear the words of the Polynesian man echoing through my head. Love always finds a way through.
This is the prompt, the push I need to move to Edie's side and do what I should have done all along. I can't be without her; I just can't do it. I love her too much to live in the misery of a life without her in it, and I see that now more clearly than ever before.
Edie's POV
"Seriously, when did you become so fucking jealous? We haven't even been seeing each other a month and you're already going psycho on me for allegedly checking out guys, huh? What the fuck is your problem?" I rage at Katya, who is really, really beginning to annoy me. I've been thinking of ending our dating for a few days now, because she just doesn't stop bugging me. I said I wanted something casual, but she obviously doesn't. She calls me all day long, and if I don't answer my cell, I get a barrage of texts asking me why I haven't called her back, and any time I even so much as look in the direction of someone else, she gets jealous. Seeing Angel staring at me from the balcony just made me realise how much I don't want to be with her, in any way, shape or form now.
Of course, seeing him, it reminded me quite clearly who it is I want to be with. I can’t, though, and that anger has all come out right at her. She probably doesn’t deserve most of it.
"What the hell? What the fuck is my problem? What the fuck is your problem, Edie?" she shouts at me, while I just feel embarrassed because people are turning and looking, watching my would-be (from her point of view) girlfriend tearing strips off me.
"I am. I'm her problem. I'm also someone who takes great objection to Edie being called a whore." Those words just spoken came from a third party to this, the party that caused Katya to flip at me in the first place. I turn, and there he is. The one I truly want to be with. I've ached and longed for him for weeks. My life without him being a part of it has been dull and colourless, and now as I turn around and look at him, take in his beautiful face, a face that it feels I haven't seen in years, the colour comes charging back into my life.
"I don't know what the fuck this has to do with you! How is what's between me and my girlfriend anything to do with you?" Katya shouts at him.
"I'm not your damned girlfriend!" I cry, my mouth hanging open in exclamation. If I thought that was shocking to hear, well. . .
"Because she's the woman I love, and if I ever hear you call her a whore again, I'll tear your fucking tongue from your throat. Do I make myself clear?" Angel warns her, while without thinking I automatically slip my hand into his, his fingers finding mine and clenching tightly as soon as he feels them. His face then moves to my ear, where he tells me something that makes everything suddenly very different.
"You can bind me in a thousand tonnes of silver if that's what it takes to be with you in the way I want to be. I'm yours, Edie. I want you to be mine.” I can’t believe my ears, I can’t! My insides have melted instantly at hearing those words, my heart racing, a huge lump forming in my throat. Oh my god, is this real? I've never felt so coveted before in my life. He wants me so much, that he’ll freely endure vast amounts of pain to be with me.
“Really? You’d do that, just for me?” I ask, shaking my head with bewilderment.
He smiles, kissing my forehead, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek. “I have no other choice. I can’t be without you, Edie.”
"Well, if that’s the case, I think that can be arranged," I smile, making him laugh a little. I then lean in closer and kiss him, just once on the lips, but making it linger. "Yep, I'm definitely all yours." I then add, looking right into his eyes as our noses touch. I am, it's true. He's all I want. We smile at each other for a few moments, and I feel through our blood tie that the happiness consuming me is mirrored back through him, but before we can enjoy the moment any longer...
"Edie, what the fuck have you got to say about all this, huh? Have you been seeing him at the same time as me?" Katya yells, her eyes wide and crazy looking, her words suddenly bringing me back down to earth.
"There was never any you and me. I'm sorry, but you never stood a chance." I tell her, not wanting to waste a second longer on her or her possessive madness, turning and sinking into the arms of the one who I wanted all along. She was only ever a distraction. I don't even care if she's moved away when I look up at his face and smile, stroking his cheek and feeling his lips press a kiss against my head. I know there's only three words I need to speak to him right now as well, but they aren't the ones you're probably thinking of.
"Take me home," I tell him, watching him smile and nod. I quickly go and say goodbye to Sasha and Miley, and when they see me holding hands with Angel, they both splutter the exact same words.
“What in the hell?”
“I’ll explain all another time. Have a great night, both of you.” They nod a little dumbly, exchanging looks with one another before wishing us both goodnight, and with that, I leave the club, my troubles and Katya behind, walking out into the rainy early morning with the most gorgeous man I've ever met.
"Stop, I want to be clichéd and overly romantic for a minute and kiss you in the rain," Angel says as soon as we're outside and away from the front of the club. I burst into giggles first, before I'm silenced by the cool set of lips pressing to mine. I then stand there happily and kiss him, getting absolutely soaked to the skin as the rain hammers down all around us. I don't care, because I've never been as happy as I am right now.
"Okay, think I'm done for now," he tells me, blowing off a drip of rain that runs down his nose, making me giggle again.
"Come on, Mr Romantic. Let's get a cab.”
"Have you ever travelled at vampire speed before?" he asks, halting me when I go to walk forwards.
“No, I haven’t.”
"Well jump on my back and you get to, much cheaper and quicker than a cab, too.” He turns and bends, and after resisting the urge to smack that gorgeous butt, I jump on his back and hold on tightly, before whoosh! I'm being propelled through the streets faster than I can see, until we come to a stop right outside my house. Jumping down, I run for the door, letting us inside.
We just stand there in the hallway for a few moments, staring at one another, both smiling before we laugh, soft and happy, sinking into one another. "I can't believe what you said in the club to Katya, that you love me. Wow. That was truly the last thing I expected.”
"Well, I do, and that's why I couldn't spend another moment away from you. I've been truly miserable without you around, Edie. I love you, and I don't care if you don't love me yet, I just want you to know that's how I feel about you," he explains, before kissing me.
"I have to be honest and say I really don't know if its love that I feel yet, but it's very close. I've tried not to let myself feel anything, but it's been too hard. I've missed you so much. Everything in my head is so muddled, and I want to say it, I just... I don’t... and I have an issue with...” I flounder, Angel shaking his head.
“Then don’t say it yet, it’s fine. Tell me when you know for certain, and for that, believe me, I’m willing to wait.”
I beam, stroking his neck with my nails. “You are?”
“Mmhmm.” We fall into another kiss, and I swear, the happiness inside of me right now is threatening to burst completely. He's in my arms again, and that feeling is so soothing to me I never want it to stop.
"Not that I don't like your place, but do you want to grab a set of dry clothes and come back to mine?”
“Well, I wanted to take a bath and stuff,” I admit, Angel frowning puzzledly.
“You can take one at mine, in the big tub that easily fits two people, so you get me in there with you, too," he suggests. I think I like that idea.
"Just one thing, in case you have any ideas on it, I'm not having sex with you right away. I never do with people I really like," I tell him, watching him frown in an amused way.
"Who said anything about sex? I only mentioned taking a bath," he teases. Feeling a little embarrassed at my presumption, I laugh it off and give him another kiss before going to fetch a change of clothes, and then leaving my place and getting absolutely soaked all over again as we head over to his. No one is home when we get there, and after making me a green tea (apparently Ursula has human friends she keeps things like that on hand for) we head upstairs and he runs the bath while I strip off.
"What shall I do with my wet clothes?" I ask, not wanting to put them down anywhere and then leave a puddle. When he comes back out of the bathroom, he just stands there staring at me in my underwear for a few moments, a smile curling his mouth.
"Sorry, I was just thinking what a lucky vampire I am. There's a big basket down the other end of the hallway, go put them in there and our housekeeper will wash them in the morning for you," he says, still smiling as his eyes wander all over me.
"A lucky vampire who can keep his hands to himself, thank you," I tell him after turning to take my clothes out and then feeling him suddenly move behind me, his hands stroking my sides slowly as his mouth kisses the side of my neck.
"I'll keep my dick to myself, but maybe not my hands.” I give him a swift kick in the leg and then keep on moving, turning around to wink at his scowling face. "You're no fun." He adds, just as I'm leaving the room.
"But I will be, you just have to wait for it.” My sweetly delivered statement upon return is met by more scowling, confidently stripping naked in front of him and then walking past to the bathroom. "Behave." I warn, when I feel him move to right behind me in an instant.
"Just following suit is all," he tells me, putting his arms around me and pulling me back against him, making me feel his nakedness pressed to mine. Oh yeah, he feels just as good as he looks. Five minutes later and I have that nakedness still pressed to me as I lean back against him in the bath, enjoying the heat of the water and the feel of his fingertips running up and down my arms.
"I can't believe it was only an hour ago I was sinking shots of tequila at the bar and thinking of ways to escape from Katya, and now I'm lying in a bathtub with you. What a crazy night," I exclaim with amusement.
"I thought you didn't drink when you were dancing, and as I seem to remember you don't drink tequila, either. It must have been bad,” he observes, kissing the side of my neck affectionately.
I turn to him, widening my eyes. He laughs in an instant. “Oh, it was bad! I mean, you witnessed half of it!”
He snorts, his face darkening a fraction. “I still can’t believe she called you a whore. She’s so lucky that her spine remains intact for that shit.” Why do I get the feeling that he isn’t joking, either? Oh yeah. Vampire. They don’t play.
“And as for the tequila, that’s Ahmed’s fault. He’s given me a taste for it.”
He smirks, running a hand through his hair. “I used to drink that shit like water when I was a human, fuck. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t give myself cirrhosis of the liver,” he then confesses, turning his head to kiss my cheek. “I’m so fucking happy, just being here like this with you.”
“Mmm, ditto,” I hum, my nails trailing over the patterns of each of his tattoos. We enjoy the silence for a few minutes, before Angel suddenly speaks again.
“Don’t be surprised if you find me wanting to do nothing more than sit and talk to you for hours on end, by the way, find out everything there is to know about you, and in turn tell you anything you wish to know about me. I might love you, but I still don't know you as well as I should.” Picking up a bar of soap from the side of the tub, he lathers it on a sponge before starting to wash my arms and shoulders.
"What, you want my entire life story or something?" I say in jest, as he gently pushes me forward and begins to wash my back.
"Yes, if you wouldn't mind," he requests, pausing to soap up the sponge again.
"Right now?"
"I repeat. Yes, if you wouldn't mind.” He's smiling widely when I turn to look at him. I return it before resting back against him once more.
"You know, I've never done this, sat and told someone the story of my life. I suppose I should start right at the beginning. I was born on April 8th, 2073 down in Bullhead City, where my mother was originally from. She went into labour while visiting my grandparents. I don't remember my grandmother, because she died when I was one, and I only have a few memories of my grandfather, who passed when I was eight. They were the only family I had. I don't count my father's side since I pretty much know he's not my real one. As you know, that's why he started beating my mom and my mom beating me, because I wasn't his. I strongly suspect that, at least. Anyway, I never much liked school so quite simply a lot of the time I'd never go," I begin to explain.
"What did you do when you were meant to be at school?" he interrupts to ask.
"Remember I told you I have a hobby taking old things and making them like new again? Well, that's what I did. I was eight when I began skipping school, and I was so independent. I was probably too independent for an eight-year-old, in fact. I taught myself how to ride a bike at eight, for example, after I'd smartened up the rusty old bike I found dumped in the garden of a boarded-up house on my old street. I didn't know how to get the rust off, so one morning I wheeled it four miles to the nearest garage and asked one of the mechanics how to clean it up. He let me wheel it in and provided me with wire wool and a little area away from the cars to scrub the rust off. He then helped me spray paint it, and after filling the tyres with air, it was good to go.”
"What else?" he asks at once.
"Not much else, the fixing up of old things was the main thing I did with my time until I hit my teen years. I also used to just go back home when I knew no one would be there. My dad would be at work and my mom usually out drinking at an old bar called Rochelle's after midday, so I went home until someone came home and then I crept out of my window, returning at the time I was meant to. When I was a teenager, I'd hardly ever come home. I'd stay with Sasha, and her parents wouldn't mind. They knew my mom was a drunk, it was fairly common knowledge.
“She turned up to the school totally hammered enough times, but they didn't know she beat me. When I reached sixteen, I'd try my luck in bars, I'd pick people's pockets to get the cash, I used to be good enough to take the wallet from a pocket, remove the notes quickly and slide it back in. I watched a lot of those shows that explain how illusions are done, how conmen work, which are one and the same really, illusionists and conmen if you ask me. Anyway, I'd do it while talking to people right to their face, I was that good. I got caught in the end though, because I beat the shit out of the person I was trying to rob when they cottoned on," I gabble, suddenly stopping. "Am I talking too much?"
"No, of course you're not. I like this, listening to you speak of your life. I only want to know more," Angel replies, tightening his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. I've never known such affection from a lover before. He's different to the rest in numerous ways, though. "Can I ask you a question relating to your parents?"
"Yes, of course you can," I reply, squeezing his fingers when his hands come up out of the water to hold mine.
"Have you ever wondered who your real father is, or even tried to search for him?"
"I've thought about it, but she was so sexually active that it really could have been anyone. I heard about an incident years after it happened that's testament to that, one where she took a guy into the bathroom at Rochelle's and fucked him, and then did the same with another four hours later. She'd spread her legs for anyone who bought her drinks. So no, trying to work out who my father is when we go on information like that would be like searching for a needle in a haystack," I snort, making him laugh.
“Yeah, it seems that way,” he agrees. “What was her name?"
"Linda. Linda Loretta Bailey. May she rot in pieces forevermore," I sigh with anger, feeling him soothing me by letting go of my hands and stroking my arms, kissing the side of my head. “Because of her, I don’t think I’ve ever truly been in love with anyone, or let them love me. That’s what I was trying to explain to you earlier, but I got all muddled. It’s scary to articulate, because you’re the first I ever have explained it to. I want you to love me, and I want to love you, but...” I feel myself starting to unravel a little, Angel tightening his arms around me.
"Shhh, querida. Don't let her make you angry. She did that enough when she was alive. All in your own time. I know you adore me, and that’s enough for now," he reassures me gently, while I relax happily into his embrace again, my anger fading to nothing once more. "That's better." He adds, kissing my cheek a few times.
“What does querida mean?”
“It’s a Spanish term of affection, sweetheart, beloved, it’s multiple choice,” he explains, kissing my head as his hands begin stroking me again. He’s so affectionate! And yes, I am totally swooning as I bask in it.
After about another half an hour we finally emerge from the tub, drying off and then heading to bed, where I lie there in his arms and talk more about my life, and then ask about his. When I woke up this morning next to Katya, I wished it was Angel curled up around me. I'd have never guessed he'd be the one I'd be lying next to just twenty hours later, or the one I could finally call mine either.
#angel reyes#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes smut#angel reyes fanfic#angel reyes fic#vampire!angel reyes#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc smut#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc fic
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(SEMI) CHARMED KIND OF LIFE: EPISODE 2 POST CREDITS BONUS SCENE - "THE PHONE CALL". “THE HARDEST PART IS SAYING SORRY (WITH YOUR DIGNITY INTACT)”
Transcript Below.
EMILIA: [Silent mode isn’t at all as silent as she hoped it would be– the constant buzzing and vibrating of her cell phone becoming more and more nerve-grating each time it happens. After what has to be the tenth call in the span of five minutes – all from Akira Kibo – Emilia yanks the phone off the charger. He’d been calling for an hour now.] What?! What do you want, Akira?!
AKIRA: For you to answer the phone, obviously! I’ve been blowing the shit up for a Fates be Damned hour, did you not think that maybe this might be important?!
EMILIA: How about instead of lecturing me on my supposed thoughtlessness, which is rich coming from you, you tell me what’s so dire that you had to call me over 60 times? I already know who it’s about, you wouldn’t call me otherwise, so just spit it out and tell me what the hell he did now.
AKIRA: [Pursing his lips tightly for a moment – so, so tempted to continue arguing with her until it gets far too out of hand, he pauses for a second and takes a slow breath, counting to five before he can begin speaking again.] We broke up the usual Sunday routine and went to a different gym, even left town because he’s trying to give you your space, not show up to where you work because, like clearly you don’t wanna see him, talk to him, run into him or whatever, but … I think he might be getting desperate about getting ahold of you ‘cause he just did something really stupid and I couldn’t talk him out of it – I tried, I swear. He got his lights knocked out boxing and I don’t think he’s even conscious yet, he’s been out the entire time I’ve been calling you, like he’s really fucked up … Please, Em, I need you to whip up whatever shit is gonna patch him up and bring it here and I really need for you two to talk, cause I swear, this is all he’s obsessed over for a whole fucking week – I know he’s gonna apologize for the stuff you two are fighting about, for sure, but like, in his head he had to do all this to even get the opportunity to see you so he could do that…
EMILIA: So his brilliant response to getting the silent treatment after dragging me into a horrible night of totally unnecessary drama is to create more unnecessary drama so he can stage an apology instead of walking up to my door, knocking on it, and being totally up front with me about how he feels. [There is a pause as she nods to herself, feeling the blood in her veins tense as her jaw slightly clenches.] Thank you for letting me know that he’s learned absolutely nothing from this – the answer is no.
AKIRA: Cut him a fucking break, Emilia! It’s not like he hasn’t reached out at all, I was pretty much standing right next to him every single time he texted you a hundred times, left voicemails and DMs – because he’s not a mind reader and he’s not doing this the way you want him to, you’re just gonna keep this shit going?! Who exactly is being childish here?! Did you listen to anything I fucking told you?! HE’S INJURED. BADLY. HE GOT INJURED TRYING TO GET YOU TO TALK TO HIM. GET OVER HERE.
EMILIA: He got injured doing something idiotic for attention, probably on some golden piece of advice you gave him if I had to guess, so no, I’m not going over there. First of all, I’m legally contracted by my job not to set foot on outside properties in our competitive field, and two, he’s not the only one that’s been a wreck for a week– even if I wanted to make something to heal him, I can’t. My energy is completely gone, I’m messing up easy serums… Not that you care, but this was a really bad time to pull a stunt like this. I’m not even going to be in town for the next few days, I’m literally packing for a trip right now to fix the “can’t make a potion” problem so… Take him to the healers in The Vale and don’t you ever call me again. When he can talk to me himself, in person, I’ll be around, but until then, I’m “cutting him a break” by being on a break. AKIRA: I’ll let him know you’re on a break then instead of ghosting him and waiting for him to figure it out. [He hangs up before Emilia can say anything else, already making plans to go into his contacts and block her number.] Dumb bitch.
#Sims 4 Story#TS4 Story#The Sims 4#TS4 Edit#Story Simblr#(Semi) Charmed Kind of Life#SCKoL#Emilia Ernest#Akira Kibo#do people still tag warnings for dudebros freely throwing around misogynistic slurs? Cause there's some of that going on at the end#Akira “I'm not gonna fight” Kibo immediately escalates it and starts fighting that lasted all of 2 seconds#it's not hard to see why him and Damien are in a bad bromance they are very very alike
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Pinch Hit: (updated Dec 12, 2022)
**Dm a mod on twitter to claim this assignment!
Pinch Hit 1: (claimed)
Fic - Character, Under 18
For AllMyFavoriteCharactersNeedTherapy (ndfan101)
Some prompts:
1. “It hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much? I just want it to stop.”
2. “It’s alright to feel broken every once in while. And it’s alright to take time to heal.”
3. “For what it’s worth, I never gave up on you.”
4. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”
5. Some songs:
-I hear a symphony (Cody Fry)
-Just for a moment and Even When/The Best Part (HSMTMTS)
-Invisible string, willow, ‘tis the damn season, champagne problems, tolerate it (Taylor Swift)
Some preferred troupes:
I absolutely live for hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending. I mostly like reading fics with Eddy on the hurt side of the spectrum and Brett on the comfort side.
Jealous!Brett, fluff, pining, getting together, banter/teasing, humour, talking about height difference, working through insecurities are some troupes I enjoy too.
Stories set during their tour, uni days, Protective!Brett, Shy!Eddy, coming out, etc., are also some other troupes I like. The story could even be linked to their virtual tour.
DNWs:
I think I would rather prefer canon compliant than an AU. I would not prefer a non-musician AU.
I’m fine with heavy angst too but no sad endings please!
Miscommunication is fine to a certain extent but not too much.
I wouldn’t much prefer punk/tough guy, ambiguous ending, gender-bent AUs etc.
Pinch Hit 2: (claimed!)
For: F_FT
fic or art - Character, Over 18
Prompts:
- Eddy does actually have a thing for toes. His boyfriend Brett finds out by accident, and indulges him. - Eddy finds omegaverse fic online. Now he is kind of obsessed with it. His boyfriend Brett finds out be accident, and indulges him. - Five times Brett protested when Eddy carried him around bridal style, and one time he asked for it. - Brett is feeling cold all the time. Eddy needs to warm him up. (Sweet or sexy, or both) - It was the last hotel room, and there is only one bed. Next morning, they wake up naked (please don't judge me, it's a classic trope and I love it) - Ray gets lonely on tour. Brett and Eddy take care of him. 3setviolin - violin teacher/student AU (no underage)
Likes: - Crying Eddy (and Brett taking care of him) - Height difference - Clothes sharing - Pining - Other twoset characters (Edwina, viola king, Prof. Wenhuin etc.) - kinky sex
DNW: - Sad ending - noncon between Brett and Eddy - violence - high school AU - blood and gore - Serial killer AU - underage
Pinch Hit 3: (claimed!)
For: MythicalTzu
fic or art - Character, Over 18
Requests:
1) Grumpy wet cat Brett. Wet because he had a bath or got caught in the rain. Would prefer art for this! 2) Brett and Eddy decide to try a new hobby together. Write me a story about everything that goes wrong. 3) A playful argument leads to deeper discussions and/or disclosures. 4) They take a cooking class together. Brett wants it to be funny, and Eddy is competitive. 5) Ray challenges them to spend a month apart. How long do they actually make it, what do they do to survive, who breaks first and why is that person Brett?
Things I like: Attempts at humor, twists or surprises, codependency, jealousy (but not for any serious reason), affection, teasing, protectiveness, stories that focus on their devotion to each other.
My DNWs: Anything that would earn the story an archive-level warning, unhappy endings, heavy angst, emphasis on bodily fluids, porn without plot, bashing on either Brett or Eddy, inclusion of their RL ex-partners.
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Hey, I’m making this post on this new account real quick because I think I really need some advice or something. Please try to read everything. If you have any advice or questions or comments to give me that may help me, even just a little bit, please dm me.
So, just for some background about me, I’m 16 years old and just got into my junior year. I live in Louisiana with my mom, stepdad, and half brother. Also, I’m a straight (bi curious) boy.
I don’t know why, but for the past year now I’ve been having a lot of really shitty suicidal thoughts and all that. I don’t know if I wanna go to any therapy or my parents or any friends about these thoughts though. Everyone I open up in front of anybody for any reason, I just start crying a lot. And I completely hate crying in front of anyone because I’m scared they’ll think I’m some scared or selfish pussy that can’t handle simple things or anything like that.
I’ve always been incredibly shy and introverted so I usually always worry about what basically anyone thinks of me. Anytime someone at school even glances at me, they look away and that makes me think that they think I’m ugly or look weird or something. Anytime I walk past someone in the halls and hear people laughing, I always think they’re laughing at me for either my hair looking shitty, me being a bit chubby, or something else.
I’ve never been popular in school. I feel like most people in my grade just kinda know who I am but don’t care enough to talk to. I’m just the guy they look at and say “oh it’s that guy”, and then move on. And I’m honestly fine with that. I’m fine with being the quiet kid who just wants to do his work and go home. The problem is that my school is filled to the brim with gangster-wannabe type kids who just never know when to leave people alone. And I never wanna tell them to go away or leave me be because I’m scared they’ll get mad and hit me or something or just give me dirty looks I guess. I genuinely feel like I can’t go anywhere in that damn place without getting harassed by a bunch of asshats.
I never really leave my house outside of school. I still need to learn to drive and I’m planning on applying at Subway soon for a first job. I spend most of my free time at home either binging YouTube, TV, Movies, Anime, Cartoons, playing video games, working out in the evenings, and a lot of sleeping.
I also think I might have a few undiagnosed mental disorders. Whenever I’m alone by myself, I just talk to myself. I constantly imagine myself in different scenarios and situations. It might be BPD but idk. I have a fuck ton of weird interests that most people are not into, especially around where I live.
I’m also really scared of my adult future. I want to eventually go to Full Sail Uni in Florida and become a successful screenwriter. A lot of my family calls me really creative so I think it’d be a good job for me, plus I just like making stories and writing in general. However, there’s a ton of more things I’m terrified of. I have no clue how things like taxes, insurance, business deals, applications, the DMV, bills, basically anything having to do with just being an adult scares me. I can do the basic shit like laundry, washing dishes, cleaning, sometimes cooking, etc. But everything else just scares me.
When it comes to friends and relationships, I think I have probably some of the worst trust issues on the planet. I’m constantly scared of going over to friends’ houses because I think they’ll judge me for something dumb, so I never really go over to any of them and I just stay home all day. I’m also incredibly scared of getting into any relationships with girls because these days, everytime I go on twitter, or Reddit, or TikTok, I feel like I’m seeing some new story about people cheating on each other and not being faithful. Or I’ll see another story about people dating someone as a joke, or a dare, or just to mess with them. It’s made me so terrified of dating out of fear that it’ll happen to me too, or I’ll say something bad or too weird and they’ll think I’m a freak and leave, or something will happen and they’ll have to move. And it sucks because I wanna be able to just hang out with my friends without stressing. I wanna be able to date something sweet and kind and caring and fun. I wanna be with someone that I can hold and take care of on their bad days. I want someone I can be weird with I guess. I just want people who I know won’t leave me.
I don’t know why I’m so damn anxious all the time. I don’t know why I’m stressed. I don’t know why I’m scared. I don’t know why I’m so shy. This is just kind of how I am.
I’m sorry for making this so long, I just really needed to get this all off of my chest and I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. If you have any questions or anything, please feel free to DM me at any time.
Love to all of you and I hope you have a good rest of your day. Or night.
#suicidal#please help#therapy#shy#teenagers#i hate it here#i’m scared#stress#anxitey#off my chest#dms open#i’m so nervous#i’m unwell#i’m ugly#sorry for being depressing#depressing shit#tw depressing thoughts#depressing life#depressiv#tw depressing stuff#kinda depressing#depression life#pls help#send help#i don’t know#i’m terrified#i’m worried#advice#give me advice#mental health
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ooooooo i hate women!!! specifically my grandma when’s she being a little baby bitch aren’t you too fucking old to be throwing a temper tantrum you fucking cracker like holy shit why are you so bitchy just calm down like bitch you’re disgusting fucking double standards make me want you to push you down the fucking stairs HOLY HELL!!!!!!! ohhhh you think you’re earning favor with god by acting like this? bitch please fuck off with that fake vibe ableist homophobic?? transphobic??? yeah bitch just go to hell god fucking hell i have to stand your stupid ass face when you’re pissed but ahahah surprise surprise tan family tradition i get faceblasted with EVERYONE’S STUPUD FUCKING PROBLEMS I HATE THEM I HAGE THEM OHHHH BUT I CANT EXPRESS MY FUCKING FEELINGS CAUSE THEYRE INVALID ARENT THEY????? HUH BECAUSE I ACT LAZY??? BE IN MY SHOES MOTHERFUCKERS YOU WANT TO JUGGLE 6-7 ASSIGNMENTS?? LEARN DIFFERENT SOFTWARE???? HAVE NO FREE TIME TO GO OUT AND TOUCH GRASS?????? OHHHHHH IF I TELL YPU THAT ITS JUST THAT IM LAZY IM INCAPABLE OF DOING THAT!!! yeah so fucking what!!! you wanna compare me with others? NEWS DUXKING FLASH ASSHOLES IM ME NOT OTHERS!!!! GAHHH KYS KYS KYSSSSSSSSSSSSS I. wish. i. could. have. a. proper. family. hghhhhfhfbfhhdhdhdhshhdhdhshs i’m still not done shitting on old granny for fucks sake it’s seriously so annoying i want to THROTTLE HER WHEN SHES LIKE THIS OLD ASS BITCH ILL THROW YOU DOWN THE STAIRS GAHDBDBDBFHSGSGGGAGAGAHHAGDGDH HNNGHHFB GNNNNNN DH. god i need to like go into one of the breaking rooms one day,,.,,,,,.,,,,.,sometimes i wish to do a little murder a little strangle a little punch in your face SHUT UP BOZO!!!!!!! WHAT GETS ME EVERYTIME IS THAT ITS SO IMMATURE BITCH YOURE OVER 60 WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE A BABY WAH WAH WAH. stupid selfish goofy ahhhhhh i want to run you over so badddddddd j want to slam your head into concrete i want to do so much unspeakable things hhffnfhdhshshshsh i want to fucking ahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha adhd h bdg rhdfggtjd fnf he i need you gone. like fucking gone. she’s so fucking annoying hhehehhhhdhdhdhshdhhdhdhd die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die fjrjrrhehdbhhdhhdhhhdhehhd dude fjrjdhdhdhbdbsbehshdbshrhdhshshdjbdhdhdhdhdhdhdhajsjkfhd i’m just so fucking PRESSED bro if i bring up her fucking problems to her you think she’ll self reflect and be like “oh no! i didn’t realize that” NAHRRRRRR she’s gonna go fucking monkey mode and try to guilt trip me for fucks sake how many ducking times have i heard the same old same old this is why i want to launch you into space gif fucking dam dnf dms!!!!!!!!!5!))!5!5!4!;!!:!;!(!5?5!5!5!;$:&:$:$):):?:):):$$/$/$:!:!:$:$:$$:$:$;$:$:$:$$;$$$$$))$3$$3:$$:$:$)))))):$$/1))hhshdhshgshshshshagdgdgshshagshhsshsggsgshagshsgahsgagahfghshsgshahdhdhshahhdhsgahdhshgshsshdhdhsbaghdhdhajahshzhdhzhafahdjhdaggshsjdhshagdhjdhagshdjsgagdjdidbdhsgushdhsgdhdihstsudooxodhdhfosgjsbdudifjcibdhdhshwhdidjejdieidiieidieieididiieididieidieidieieiidieeiidieieidieieidieidiieidieieididieudiiwidudueuduidueudueueududiisieididieidiidieieisidiidieidididiiejejdjdjjeididjdiiwieididieidiieixieieidiidieidieidieidiieidieieidiixididididiieieieidiudidididiisidiidkyskyskuskyssyysyyyy!!!!!!! just roll over already got fucking damn HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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✨ As many of my followers know, I partake in an 18+ NSFW Kiri RP on this blog. The RP began near the start of 2022 and was going pretty well up until a few weeks ago.
✨ In these last few weeks I have been flooded with anons, asks, and DMs from random people: lewd messages with graphic depictions of what they’d like to do to me or what they think should be done to me, some of them being real sick and twisted. There have been people telling me how I’m a disgusting person for doing this RP. There have been people who message me these things as themselves or pretending to be my Kiri mod.
✨ I am fully aware that this RP takes place on a public forum where everyone and anyone can have their opinion but this is too damn much. I am still a person and I do not deserve to be harassed in this way.
✨ My Kiri mod and I talk practically daily. They know the things I am comfortable with, we’ve talked about interests and storylines. So, to have other people try to highjack it, assume they know the things I’m comfortable with, or, just assume I’ll RP with literally anyone, that’s so fucking rude!!
What Does All This Mean?
✨ I love my RP. It provides me a wonderful distraction from my real life problems and keeps me on my creative toes, so, I didn’t want to just quit it.
✨ I’ve made a NSFW side blog where we will now be doing the RP. I will not be publicly giving out this blogs information because I do not want the same people finding me on there and having this whole thing start over again.
THAT BEING SAID
✨ I know I have many followers who have been liking these anons from the very beginning and I’d love for you to keep following along!
✨ If you’re interested in the new blog, please send me a message OFF anon or DM me directly and I’ll send you the link. If you message me on anon asking for it, your message will simply be deleted.
✨ TL;DR, some shitty people ruined a really fun thing but I’m trying to make the most of it. I’m doing this to protect myself and still enjoy the RP. I hope you all can understand and will keep following as the story unfolds.
💋 Reblogs are appreciated 💋
#enough was enough#no I will not be publicly sharing the messages#most have been reported or deleted already#Scarlett’s thoughts 💭#Scarlett Update ⭐️
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The Demon Bros Play DND!
Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?
So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.
Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM
He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.
Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.
Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.
He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.
Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.
“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”
He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.
Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker
In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.
Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)
This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!
Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-
Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.
He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!
He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.
Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?
“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”
Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.
“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”
He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.
Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.
He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.
Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...
“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”
If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.
Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)
His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!
He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.
Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.
While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.
His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”
Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.
“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”
Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.
Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.
Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-
Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.
The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)
So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?
It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.
When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.
He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.
As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.
Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!
He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.
Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.
As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.
He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!
His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!
Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.
Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.
“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”
I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)
At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.
When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.
Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.
“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”
Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!
Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.
When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!
Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.
He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.
His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.
‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’
Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!
Please help him, MC...
*Dice Cronch* (Beel)
Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...
Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D
Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:
“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”
I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.
While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.
He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.
Murder Hobo (Belphie)
Chaotic evil.
“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”
If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.
He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.
Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-
He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.
He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.
Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.
Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.
“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”
Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)
Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.
Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.
Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!
He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!
Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.
Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!
#Obey me#Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons#obey me! headcanons#Obey me Lucifer#Obey me Mammon#Obey me Simeon#Obey me Leviathan#obey me beelzebub#Obey me Belphegor#Obey me Satan#Obey me Asmodeus#Obey me MC#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?
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My Kind
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warning: Swearing
Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.
Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it.
I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.
Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.
You see, it has layers.
I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.
They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!
Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.
I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.
Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!
Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.
“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.
“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“
“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.
To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.
Aright, you’ve got a point, me.
“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“
“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”
“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“
This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.
“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.
“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“
“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“
I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”
He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“
Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.
“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“
“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“
My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”
“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“
“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went?
“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.
“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”
“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“
“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him.
“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“
“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.
“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“
Ah, shit
“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“
Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.
Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.
@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse fanfic#corpse fanfiction#corpse fluff#corpse fic#corpse fandom#corpse simp#corpse x reader#corpse x you#corpse x y/n#corpse imagines#corpse imagine#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fanficiton#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband fanfic#corpse husband fluff#corpse husband fic#corpse husband fanfiction#corpse husband imagine#corpse among us#amigops#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#fandom#fluff#fan#request
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Beautiful - Joaquin Torres
Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader
Request: Hi love, can I request a very warm,fluffy, reassuring and loving imagine ? I've been struggling with my self-confidence and body image lately so I'm in need of softness (you absolutely don't have to make the plot about body image if you don't want to). As for for who I request well... Joaquin Torres is my boy and he's a softie.Okay, I stop rambling now. I hope that you have a wonderful day ❤’ - @moonheartsposts
Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff!!!!
Words: 1426
Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!
A/N: I hope this is okay @moonheartsposts angel, I love you! I just want you guys to know that even if you’re having a bad day that you’re all beautiful and if you ever need to talk to someone, my dm’s are open for everyone! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
The scalding hot shower that you enjoyed helped immensely with your horribly aching muscles after a long day at work, you had been working so hard lately and it was beginning to take its toll on you. You were just glad that you were going to have a relaxing date night with your boyfriend, Joaquin, who’d also been working non-stop so you both deserved some romantic alone time. The fact that in a few short hours you’d be sitting across from your beautiful boyfriend in your favourite restaurant made you so happy.
You sighed happily as you rubbed a towel over your wet hair and dried yourself off before applying your lavender body lotion – the one that Joaquin loved – before slipping into your satin robe. As you stood in front of your mirror, you smiled at your reflection as you began to apply your moisturiser. Lately, you had been struggling with your body image but as soon as Joaquin found out about it, he went to great lengths to show you how beautiful you were. It made you feel so much better about yourself and you promised him that you’d always tell him when you were having a hard day.
You felt his presence lingering in the doorway before you saw him and you grinned when he spoke up, “hello, darling,” you could hear the smile in his voice. It made you grin and you turned to face your gorgeous beaming boyfriend as he sauntered towards you. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before he softly kissed your forehead, “god, you look so goddamn beautiful. Can you just wear that robe when we go out to dinner, please?” he pouted as his strong arms circled your waist as he pulled you into his chest.
You scoffed with a giggle as you playfully slapped him on the chest, barely able to contain your grin as you wrapped your arms around your neck, playing with the ends of his hair, “I think that the restaurant will have a problem with that,” you laughed, “how was work?” you asked as you stood up on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss.
When you pulled away from him, Joaquin whined as he attempted to follow your lips with his own. God, you loved him so much, “it was okay, same old really. I sorted out a new mission with Sam for a couple of weeks’ time. It feels like all I did was count down the hours until I saw you,” he flushed as he averted his eyes and pressed an open mouthed kiss over your knuckles.
You smiled as you cupped his cheeks and he looked up at you with those endless chocolate brown eyes that you loved so much. Grinning, you stood up on your tiptoes again and pressed a long lingering kiss to his lips, “I love you, Joaquin.”
“I love you too, angel,” he kissed your forehead before he reached down to lace his fingers through yours and gave your hand a loving squeeze, “I’m gonna go and jump in the shower.”
“Okay,” you grinned at him and grabbed your hairdryer, getting to work on getting your hair dry.
“Oh my god!” Joaquin gasped dramatically as he clutched at his heart when he came back upstairs a couple of hours later to see if you were ready, “warn a guy next time, Y/N! You look absolutely stunning!”
You laughed as you turned to face hi and your mouth practically watered at the sight of him in a dress shirt and slacks, you grinned as you looked him up and down, “and you look so handsome!” you felt so lucky to be able to share your life with someone as amazing as him, “can you help me with the clasp on this necklace, please?”
He beamed and walked over to you, his gentle fingers brushing against your skin as he fastened the clasp. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the back of your neck as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “you are so beautiful, you know that right?” his words caused tingles to shoot through your body.
When you met his eyes in the mirror, he must have seen the hesitation on your face because he pulled you closer, “you are so damn beautiful and I’m going to keep on telling you that forever, I love you so much.”
You smiled and turned your head to press a kiss to his warm cheek, “I love you too baby, I’m so lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he beamed, his eyes twinkling as you looked at you.
You and Joaquin decided to go to your favourite restaurant for your date night and you were shown to your table on the second floor by your favourite waitress, “you look so beautiful, Y/N,” she winked at you.
Joaquin grinned at you, resting his hand on your lower back, you could feel the warmth of his hand burning through your clothes, “she does, doesn’t she?”
“Thank you,” you smiled shyly, feeling your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment as you looked out at the amazing view.
“Madame,” Joaquin pulled out your chair for you and performed a silly little flourishing bow that made you laugh.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” you smiled as you kissed his cheek.
At first, Joaquin seemed nervous about something but after a couple of your favourite drinks, he seemed to loosen up so you wondered about it no longer. He held your hand from across the table as you talked about your week. You were always taken aback at how he looked at you while he listened, like you put all of the stars in the sky. You never imagined that someone could love you so much.
In between dinner and dessert, Joaquin started to get nervous and fidgety again, when he pulled at the collar of his shirt, you decided that you needed to know what was going on, “Joaquin, what’s going on?”
“Huh?” he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushing.
You smiled as tenderly as you could, despite the worried feeling in your chest; “is there something you need to tell me?” you took his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles, “you can tell me anything you know that, right?”
Joaquin took a deep breath as he shot you a dazzling but shaky smile as he leaned across the table and gave you a quick kiss, “you know that I love you, don’t you?”
You nodded, “of course I know that, I love you too,” on the outside you were calm as could be but inside you were freaking out, “baby, what’s going on?”
He smiled as he stood up, reaching inside the pocket of his slacks and he took both of your hands in his, “Y/N Y/L/N, I don’t think that I ever knew what love truly was until I met you. Everybody told me how amazing it was to be in love but I didn’t believe them, at least not until I met you,” he cupped your cheek and gazed into your eyes lovingly, “beautiful, Y/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” he asked as he got on one knee.
You distinctly heard the woman on the next table gasp in delight but all you could do was stare at Joaquin. He wanted to marry you? Tears stung at your eyes and the longer you stared at him, the more nervous that Joaquin got, “I’m err gonna need an answer honey,” he laughed nervously.
His voice made you snap out of it, “yes! Yes of course, I’ll marry you!” he beamed and slipped the gorgeous ring on your finger as he got to his feet and pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the floor and spinning you round as the other patrons whooped and cheered. You giggled as you cupped Joaquin’s cheeks and kissed him deeply, you were marrying the love of your life, you were marrying Joaquin Torres, the most beautiful man in the world.
As you and Joaquin left the restaurant, drunk on champagne, your favourite waitress stopped you with a delighted smile, “congratulations, you two! You make a beautiful couple.”
Joaquin pulled you close as you walked down the street, “you’re gonna be the most beautiful bride in the whole world,” he beamed as he kissed you beneath the stars and it was in that moment you felt beautiful. He made you feel beautiful.
---------------------------
@moonheartsposts @smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black
#joaquin#joaquin torres#joaquin torres imagine#joaquin torres one shot#joaquin torres oneshot#joaquin torres fluff#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres x reader insert#joaquin torres x y/n#joaquin torres x you#you x joaquin torres#joaquin x reader#joaquin x reader insert#joaquin x y/n#joaquin x you#you x joaquin#tfatws#danny ramirez
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1D Monthly Fic Roundup
Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2021! Below you’ll find 23 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup.
Happy reading!
He Carries The Key by @lululawrence
[Niall/Louis, OT5, 8k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
Niall was mostly home, ready for a shower and a chat with Louis, when suddenly Niall was flooded with emotions from the pack bond.Shock. Surprise. Confusion.But mostly fear.Something was wrong with Louis.
Plus One by mynameispiaivy / @missrefridgefreetorator
[Louis/Luke Malak, 3k, Mature, tumblr post]
Louis is invited to an event and he has to bring a "plus one".
Better Mistakes by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10
[Harry/Louis, 117k, Explicit, tumblr post]
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-”
“Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.”
“You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?”
Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?”
“He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.”
Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...
Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy by @lululawrence
[Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 7k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
Hello, I’m sorry if this isn’t a post that is allowed on this channel, but I was hoping for the best since it is regarding a photography project I’m working on at the moment. I’m working on a set of sunrise kiss photos and therefore am needing a willing kissing partner. I’d hoped to be able to provide one for myself, but it hasn’t panned out, so here I am! I was hoping to find someone here, since I know most of you (at least peripherally) and can generally vouch for you not being creeps. Plus this way I know you will understand needing to continue to tweak the camera settings and reshoots etc that others might not.
Anyway, I’m looking for someone who identifies as male or male-ish (sorry, ladies) who is between the ages of 18 and 40. I’m a 29 year old male-ish myself, for those who would like to know before replying.
If you’re interested and are free the early morning of August 7th and would like to kiss in the sunrise with me for the sake of some (hopefully) interesting and fun photos, let me know via DM and I’ll give you the location.
OR the one where Louis needs a kissing partner, two show up, and it all might turn out for the best that way.
call my name and save me from the dark by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same
[Louis/Harry, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
“I don’t know if it was a nightmare,” he confesses to the ceiling, the darkness making it easier to speak up even when he still has to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. “It feels more like a memory. But it can’t be.”
Harry shifts, and Louis can feel his chin perched on his chest, doesn’t need to look at him to know that Harry’s studying him. “Why?” He prompts, when Louis doesn’t immediately continue, and Louis swallows, tries to shrug off the apprehension, the fear that Harry will think that he’s gone mad.
“Because I heard them pronounce me dead.”
Feels like home by @neondiamond
[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Louis comes home from work with an exciting surprise. Daydreaming and celebrations ensue.
this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface
[Harry/Louis, 4k, Mature, tumblr post]
The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight.
“Your jam?”
When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it.
Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.
I Know My Arithmedick (2 + 2 = 4sum) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
[Harry/Louis + Louis/multiple partners, 3k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Harry wants to watch Louis fuck someone else. Louis loves giving Harry what he wants. It’s simple math, really.
doG…and his friend by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright
[Louis/Harry, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
When Joan has to move out of her small, nice home and in with a random roommate, she obviously brings her dog/boyfriend, Doug, with her.
Doug makes a friend. And maybe more.
I Heard You Talking by @lululawrence
[Louis/Harry, 10k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.
Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.
He was stunningly gorgeous.
Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”
God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?
Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.
All That You Need by @haztobegood
[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Pre-heat was always one of Harry’s favorite times to spend with Louis. It was a time to rest up and indulge in extra cuddles, like basking in a ray of sunshine before having to dive off the deep end. Louis lavishes him with tender touches and soft kisses. Harry wants to savor this time as long as possible. The unquenchable need will come later, but for now, his desires are simple. He just needed to be closer to his alpha. As close as possible.
sickly sweet fonding by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose
[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]
A few members of their crew start piling up the dirty dishes and taking them over to the sink. Harry walks around the cameras, and smiles brightly at Louis.
“What do you think, Lou? Do I have it in the bag?”
Louis eyes a bowl of bright pink lumpy batter being cleaned from Harry’s side. “Of course you do.” He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and steers him away, all while ignoring the dramatic gagging Niall is doing. He doesn’t think it’s just the batter making Niall gag.
or the one where Louis fonds over Harry's horrible baking skills
Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose
[Louis/Harry, 1k, Mature, tumblr post]
Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”
'Ere comes the milk by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays
[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit]
Louis is obsessed with Harry's mommy milkers.
everything comes back to you by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays
[Louis/Harry, 8k, Explicit]
Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?
He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie
[Harry/Louis, 32k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
Camp Infinity is the perfect place for a lot of things; hiking, swimming, sports, eating, and falling in love. Harry Styles is a bit too familiar with the last one from his years of being a camper. This year things will be different. He’s 21, a grown man now, and ready to see Camp Infinity from a different point of view; working as a lifeguard. However, his whole summer turns upside down when a familiar British lad makes his return into Harry's life.Or the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.
Also known as – The Summer Camp Fic
tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale
[Louis/Harry, 20k, Explicit, tumblr post]
No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.
or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.
Getting a Head for Heights by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13
[Louis/Greg James, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
The problem is, Louis thinks Greg would be quite good to date, so it would really help if everyone would stop reminding him of that fact so he could unthink it. He’d be a gentleman, at least until Louis talked him out of it, and he’s funny and nice and hot and they’re both into music and football and drama. He’s also a freakish giant of a human, and the problem with dating is that sooner or later you have to stand next to each other.
We Go Together (series) by @beelou / cherrylarry
[Louis/Harry, 3k, General, tumblr post]
A grease au
Hot Boy Summer (series) by @louisandtheaquarian / zita17
[Harry/Louis, 35k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
Louis is an overworked bartender hoping to save up enough extra tips to buy a new air conditioner before he literally melts during a scorching NYC heat wave. Harry is the new neighbor that wakes him up by moving in his sole day off at 6am. An NYC enemies to neighbors to lovers AU featuring a rickety fire escape, the 2021 Euros, Lirry bickering like a divorced couple, and enough OT5 clichés to rot your teeth. (If Harry's pastries don't get them first.)
across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Louis/Harry, 8k, General, tumblr post]
The first time they see each other is when they are toddlers, playing out in the yard. Louis remembers sitting on the perfectly trimmed lawn and getting yelled at for picking at the soft blades of grass; she remembers looking over, across the narrow but deep and wild river, and watching another little girl, out in a different garden, picking flowers for her mother.
She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.
bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]
Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.
whatever you feel like doing in this moment by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Harry/Louis, 2k, General, tumblr post]
Louis gets all that he's ever wanted during his favourite game at their group's weekly improv show.
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