#even before giving someone a chance to read it

[palmettoshenanigans]

Is this an unpopular opinion? Is this a hot take??? I don't know if it is but I'm going to say it anyway,

I've read several AU!AFTG fics where writers try to mimic Neil's cut throat tongue lashings. They try to create their own "You know, I get it moment" whether with existing characters or OCs or whatever

Rarely do they pull it off. In fact, most miss the mark by a mile.

And it's not because they're bad at writing insults, they aren't. They can craft insults just like the rest of us, with varying degrees of success and scathing derogatory language. It's that the insults they use are generally applicable to most people and get their punch by being rife with curse words.

That's not how Neil does it.

Neil's insults are bespoke!!! (A bespoke suit is one where fabric isn't even cut until we know your exact measurements, this suit is for you, so let me write down every tidbit of relevant information about you and your body before I even start picking out thread)

Neil basically psychoanalyzed someone, noticed all their strengths, weaknesses, fears, hopes and dreams, complexes and traumas that he could get his little hands on, and honed the perfect sentence to bypass all their surface layer feelings and find their Inner Child like a fucking sniper and shot that crying baby in the forehead

That's why it hurts!!! Neil wouldn't call some one ugly as an insult even though that's an insult that has a wide AOE - it'll hit lots of folks. Neil would only call some ugly if it would strike home at their inner most traumatic childhood issues - Neil would call you ugly if he knew your mother called you ugly since birth and told you your only chance at earning love is by becoming hot and your dad told you you were so unskilled you couldn't even make a supermodel pretty if you tried giving them a makeover cus you're just that useless at making change. Yeah, Neil would call you ugly at that point.

Kevin didn't try to strangle Neil cus he called him a slur for disabled people, it pissed him off but it didn't really strike a nerve.

Kevin tried to strangle Neil cus he called him a "deadweight has been" and that struck all his nerves.

If you wanna write your own "You know, I get it" you can't just be insulting. You gotta be traumatizing. You can't just be mean to an adult being an asshole. You gotta be mean to a little kid who's already crying.

Only a couple of fic writers have pulled it off as far as I've read.

[bitten-fruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi~~

I kinda here for the 6k

I am a huge fan of you btw.. I loved Ur eached and every batfamily plus Clark Kent stories

So can I get a sweet arranged marriage turn into love with Bruce or clerk ( can't pick between them)

I leave most decision upto you as I trust you just make it fluffy

And congratulations on your 6k. You deserve it

Thanks and bye

.⋆｡What is a Marriage｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

It is your wedding day, a joyous occasion for all, except you and your new husband

Warnings: regency!au, arranged marriage, misogyny, mention of drug rings, fluff WC: 909

6k Bingo Celebration

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

For as long as you could remember, you were taught that you would marry a lord and a rich one at that. While your brothers would marry to carry on your family’s name, you would be responsible for another family, another home and any children that your husband saw fit to give you. You would belong to a man that your father believed would be the most capable of giving the entire family a chance to climb the social ladder. 

Part of you was excited for your debut upon the marriage mart. You dreamed of the gorgeous balls and beautiful gowns you would wear to catch the eye of a gentleman who would spoil you rotten with love and affection. Your mother’s sisters constantly told you stories of magical evenings with their future husbands as they began to court. 

Yet only a few before your debut, those dreams were stomped out by your father’s announcement that you would be wed to a man you had never met in a week’s time. Shamefully, your escape attempts though childish, were unsuccessful and only served to have your last remaining privilege of choosing your own wedding dream taken away.

And so, here you were, sitting at someone else’s table, eating food picked out by a stranger as you sat next to your new husband whom you’ve already forgotten the name of. This was definitely not how you pictured your Wedding Breakfast, alone save for your husband and his butler, your father hadn’t even the decency to let your mother attend.

You sighed and picked up the newspaper your husband had abandoned a few minutes ago. Your husband’s blue eyes flicked over to you but you ignored him. The smudged ink of the headline drew your attention; ‘Masked Vigilante Exposes Drug Ring’. It made you scoff.

“Is there something the matter?” His deep voice cut through the silence of the dining room, aggravatingly sending a shiver down your spine. You refused to look at him.

“This vigilante, it seems he’s doing a better job at protecting Gotham than the police. A damn shame they’re incapable of doing their jobs properly.” You flicked to the next page, pretending to read as you gauged his reaction. Would your husband punish you for swearing and belittling other men as your father would have done? You were met only with the soft clink of silverware and the footsteps of his butler.

“More coffee Master Bruce?” 

“Yes, thank you Alfred.” Bruce (what a modern name) cleared his throat and you finally made eye contact with him. “Are you a fan of this vigilante?” His voice tilted up like your brothers’ did when they teased you. 

You twisted the heavy ring on your finger, your stomach tight as you waited for the inevitable cruel punchline of his joke. “He’s doing something to protect people. I think it’s noble.” His lips quirked up and you couldn’t help but remember the brief peck you had shared an hour ago, your first kiss.

“Do you?” A flash of anger burned in your stomach as heat crawled up your cheeks. 

“Don’t patronise me.” Suddenly, his expression dropped. You watched him stutter over his words as he scrambled to explain what he meant. Alfred chuckled under his breath while he took your full plate of eggs and instead replaced it with some fresh fruit pastries. 

“I didn’t- I wasn’t,” his broad shoulders dropped, “I’m sorry.” He almost looked like a sad puppy like this, his head lowered, eyes wide with a genuine remorse, his fluffy brown hair hanging down along his strong cheekbones. You almost felt bad about your outburst, almost. 

“What is it that you want from this marriage? Children? A wife to obey your every whim? Who turns a blind eye to your indiscretions?” You hissed but he didn’t flinch, only taking a deep breath before he stood and rounded the table. Instead of pulling out the empty chair next to you, he knelt beside you, his hands taking yours.

“I want a companion, that is all. I know you had no choice in this marriage, and for that I apologise, it is not how I wanted this to go. But I can give you independence and freedom just by giving you my name and my wallet. I only ask that you humour me with trips to the city together, the opera, anywhere, as long as society sees us together.” He twisted your ring back so the bright purple amethyst sat right against your knuckle once more.

“I can do whatever I want?” 

He reached up and gently cupped your cheek. “I am your servant. Ask me for anything, and it is yours.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you nuzzled into his foreign yet comforting touch.

“And what if I ask for your heart?” 

“Then it is yours.” He said with a smirk and you couldn’t help but believe him. And as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand and then to your cheek, you wondered if this was what your mother’s sisters meant when they said that you would just know if he was the one.

Perhaps you could be more than a commodity to be sold. Maybe Bruce could be more than the man who bought you. You glanced at the headline again as another feeling stirred in your gut. Perhaps, there was more to life than what you had been told.

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[yandere-yearnings]

long time no see! It’s been quite a while since I have sent in an ask.. Or at least I think so! I was reading Vio’s whole master list again and I read everything and I mean EVERYTHING! So I was checking out the comments and noticed you said something about a clingy Vio? I wonder how that may be and why? Can someone as bratty and stuck up tsundere like Vio become clingy? o(ﾟДﾟ)っ！

nonnie!! it has been such an incredibly long time, i hope you've been well🥺🩷 it's always a pleasure to have you back in my inbox w/ all your wonderful thoughts and i'm incredibly sorry this took a while to get to😔💔 also the fact that you went back to read vio's entire masterlist + the comments is totally flattering, thank you😭💕

Vio isn't oblivious. He's well aware how much words can have an impact — it's a choice he's made to sharpen his, to keep away the world he has no interest in. Although he likes you, he still hasn't figured out what place you have in his life, or how he'll open the door to let you in without being flooded by everyone who's undoubtedly riding your wave. So he dances with you instead, tests the waters, sees how much he can step on your toes before you pull away. It surprises him when you don't, when you give him patience enough that it numbs his brain and suddenly, all he has is a melting heart for you.

It's at that point, worries begin to eat him alive. He knows every bad thing he's said has surely piled up. In the past, frankly, he didn't care, but now he knows he loves you and what if he's already driven you away? Clingy doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of what he becomes when he realises that. You of all people are well acquainted to the person he is when the cameras aren't rolling; there is no chance of concealing himself behind smiles and sweet talk anymore. Desperate, Vio gives you his vulnerable and insecure self — the one that no one else has seen — because he doesn't know what else to do.

He's hoping he can keep you, if you see the only sincere side he has. Crawling into your bed at night, beside you every waking hour. Messaging you every three seconds, asking where you are and when you'll be back. He won't sit still unless you're in his line of sight, won't change sets unless you're travelling in the same car, he won't even act until your eyes are on him. Vio shows you how absolutely useless he is without you. If not anything else, you'll have to pity him, right? Pity will keep you close. He prays it will.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ denial is all that I've known

content // bakugo x fem!reader. emotional comfort; 20 somethings. mentions of death (of a family member). grief is weird. soft bakugo being there for you. not proof read.

You'd had an aching feeling in your chest throughout the day, but couldn't give it any proper meaning. Nothing was wrong - work went fine, the sun was shining...but that anxiety didn't lift from your shoulders. Something was in the air, it was only a matter of time before the reasoning slapped you in the face. Your intuition was never wrong about this kind of thing, much to your dismay.

Then came the text, 6:57pm. A fucking text, of all things.

"Hi honey. So sorry to text you this, but your uncle has passed away. Not much else known right now, but I'll let you know. Love you."

No, you read that wrong. That's not true...it can't be true. Someone must have the wrong number. A poor attempt to convince yourself when your eyes drift up to the contact name, painfully reminding you that it's your mother and not some stranger mistakenly informing you of a family death. It feels like hours pass while staring at your phone screen, the words beginning to intermingle with each other and become gibberish through hazy vision. When you come to, and somewhat accept that this is in fact real, your eyes gravitate to the time. It's only 7:05pm - he's still at the agency. If you hurry, you'll catch him in time.

You don't remember lacing up your sneakers or throwing on a hoodie before bolting from your apartment complex, storming out into the busy city street toward the office. Did you even put the dinner you reheated back in the fridge? It's all a blur, too engrossed on heading toward the one person you knew would catch you before you fell in too deep.

Rounding the corner of the final block - you stopped counting how many you'd sprinted through - and the agency skyscraper was in your sights. It's faint, but the glow to Bakugo's office is visible from the side of the building. When did you memorize its placement from outside? You don't wait to catch your breath or finish your thought, you can't stop now. If you do, you'll collapse on this dirty sidewalk around strangers, frozen in time and left alone with your heartache.

The security guard sees you racing toward the entrance, recognizing you with a wave before stepping out of your way, taken aback by the gust of wind that follows you as you zoom inside. There's no time for the elevator, running past the set and bursting through the metal door to the stairwell. Swinging off the landing to each floor, skipping steps and pulling yourself up by the railing has you reaching the fourth floor in no time at all, hurrying through the second metal door with a loud bang. When you skid to a halt outside of Bakugo's office door, it swings open before you get a chance to knock.

"The hell?" he speaks aloud, confusion written all over his face as he watches you pant frantically, a pitiful attempt to catch your breath. "Did you fuckin' run here?"

The dread starts to sink in, an anchor dragging you into that abyss of affliction you were trying to avoid. The panic creeps up your spine, the inevitable breakdown approaching - time's up. Breathing suddenly feels foreign, your limbs trembling with the stress of your run as it starts to catch up to you. You barely notice Bakugo move and gently guide you by the shoulders into his office, shutting the door behind him quietly.

"Hey," he mutters lowly while grabbing your wrist to get your attention. "What's goin' on? Y'haven't said a word, you're scarin' me."

Shit, you haven't said anything? Did he try to have a conversation that you don't even remember?

"Y/N," He crouches down to be eye level, forcing you to look at him when he grabs your chin. "Answer me, what's wrong?"

Words unexpectedly fail you when you try to speak, a head full of white noise too distracting to properly find what you want to say. Bakugo's head tilts with worry, brows creased and the train of thought behind his eyes apparent, desperate to find a way to get you to talk through your state of shock.

"Did somethin' happen?" Bakugo pauses to evaluate whether or not you're hurt. "Y'don't look injured. Ya gotta tell me so I can help."

It comes out of nowhere, like bile rising in your throat, when you finally blurt out "My uncle died."

His shoulders deflate, the breath he was holding exhaled in one swift huff. "So instead of callin' me to come over, you barreled over here like a bat outta hell?"

All you can do is nod in response, hot tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes, resolve officially broken.

"...wasn't thinking straight," you choke out, barely audible. "I need you, Katsuki."

The final syllable of his name hardly has the time to leave your lips before he's pulling on your wrist, letting go of your chin and awkwardly tugging you into him as he stands to his full height in the same motion. The warmth of his embrace floods over you, strong arms caging you solidly against his chest, shielding you from any further harm and letting you unwind - to grieve. You wouldn't be here if you could handle this on your own, and he knows that.

"Idiot," Bakugo jokes before squeezing you tighter when he hears you hiccup between sobs. "I can blast over to your place faster than your attempt at an Olympic sprint."

Everything pours out of you, all the tension, denial, hurt and sorrow welling inside of you on full display for him to see. One of his hands threads through your hair, cradling the back of your head lovingly.

"Y’know that you could call me once an hour for a whole night for an entire week and I wouldn’t give a damn about losing sleep if it meant you’d feel better. As long as I'm around, I'll never let ya cry alone, alright? That's a damn promise."

The material of Bakugo’s shirt balls in your fists when your grip tightens, the only response you can provide is to hold on to him for dear life.

“S’okay, just let it out. I got’cha.”

And you do, staining his shirt with tears and snot until you’re too tired to cry any longer. You’re not sure how long the two of you stand in the darkness of Bakugo’s office. The thrumming of his heartbeat soothes your nerves, feeling yourself relax as the rhythm replaces the static in your head.

“Thank you.”

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[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Hi, I have a request. I was hoping if you can do a one-shot or short story of Alastor x reader with telekinetic powers that's similar to Carrie White? It can be romantic or platonic, which ever fits better is up to you.

It can go something like this; the reader fell into hell because they did something really bad with their newborn powers, and it was during extermination day. When the exorcist angels were going to kill the reader, they use their TK powers to defend themselves against the angels and manage to kill one before getting away from them. This was caught on news and immediately caught the attention of all the sinners in hell to see the reader has telekinetic powers and manages to fight off the angels. This even caught the attention of all the overlords, including the three Vee's, the Hazbin Hotel crew and Alastor.

That was honestly all I got 😅, I'm sorry if it sounds confusing, but I was hoping you can do something like that, if that's OK with you, because your work is very amazing to read.

Welcome to Hell! - Alastor x reader

Helloo!! I’ve decided to keep this as a one-shot for now since I want to focus on finishing my ongoing stories. However, if inspiration strikes, I might dive deeper into this idea in the future! In the meantime, it was a wonderful request, and I hope you enjoy it! ❤️ A/N: I was supposed to post this tomorrow but I accidentaly clicked post instead of schedule so... here you have it. Warning: Not proofread!

Words: ~2300 TW: none.

Your hands were shaking.

What had you done?

Your heart was racing, your breathing erratic.

You’ve killed someone again.

You only wanted to protect yourself… you always had!

You're a monster.

The golden blood splattered all over you, all over the ground, awakening memories. It happened so fast, so quickly that you still believed it was all a dream. They attacked you, didn't they? It wasn't your fault. You just wanted to survive. Doesn't everyone?

What was this place? Why is everyone so panicked? Why are these beings attacking you?

The sound of a bell rang across the strange city you woke up in, the weird beings flying in the sky. The streets echoed in screams and cries, grunts of pain and suffering sending shivers down your spine.

Once the panic subsided, creatures surrounded you, whispering and watching with wide eyes.

"You... You killed an exorcist?" one of them asked.

"What?" you couldn't understand. What was happening? Was this a joke?

"We're gonna die!" another screamed.

"What? No, I-" You tried to protect yourself, but fear overwhelmed you. You noticed them approaching you, your eyes falling on a nearby wrecked car.

A loud noise echoed as the car blasted through the crowd, giving you a chance to escape. Corpses of these things surrounded you, and blood splattered all over the streets. What was this place? What happened here?

You felt threatened, like prey running from unknown hunters in unfamiliar territory. What was happening? Were you dreaming?

Am I dead?

"Welcome back to 666 News, the premiere station for all things Hell! I'm Katie Killjoy with today's top stories!" Katie's voice echoed through the TV in the hotel's lobby, mere moments after Extermination Day was over.

"Extermination day has just ended, and as usual, demon parts and blood litter the streets of Hell, as clean-up crews get to work."

Charlie watched the news, Vaggie's hand slowly caressing her shoulder. "You want me to change it?" she asked her.

"No... I need to know the damage..." Charlie said, sighing, clearly distressed about her people getting killed once again. Vaggie hugged her tightly, knowing how painful it must be. She'd erase that smile on Katie's face if she could - always so happy to announce the death of other Sinners every year.

"But the news doesn't end there! As it turns out, a newcomer has been reported for recently killing an Angel - using telekinesis, no less!"

They both watched with wide eyes, as Husker joined, his curiosity getting the best of him too. The images of you blasting a car through the car appeared on the screen, screams of people echoing through it.

"Holy shit!" Vaggie said, not quite believing what she was seeing. "They must be confused."

"And what a hell of a start..." Husker said, not phased by the events.

The doors of the hotel burst open, Angel frantically looked around as he tried to catch his breath. "We... We need- Oh, shit..." he tried to say, but running as fast as he could all the way there surely took a toll on him.

"Angel, what happened?" Charlie asked.

He took a deep breath, trying to let the words come out. "We need to take that sinner... I've heard Vox and Valentino talk... They want them!"

"No! If The Vees have them, especially with that power..." Charlie said, worry on her face. It would've been a catastrophe. Having someone like you, powerful and confused controlled by The Vees... It couldn't happen.

A laugh echoed in the room, as everyone's attention shifted. Alastor appeared in the room, shadows emerging everywhere, the smirk on his face wider than usual. He clearly heard what happened, lurking in silence for the perfect time to make his presence known.

"My, my... What an interesting little situation we've managed to find ourselves in! It seems our new arrival has made quite the impression." he said, excitement filling his tone.

"Alastor, you need to help us-" Charlie pleaded, only to be cut off by Vaggie.

"Hold on, Charlie... I don't think Alastor is the best to handle this situation."

"Let me disagree, my dear!" Alastor intervened quickly, stepping closer to them. "I think my skills in... persuasion must be of good help, don't you agree?"

"Manipulation, you mean," Vaggie said harshly, making his eye twitch a bit.

"Ah, that's such a negative word, my dear... I think my term is a little bit more friendly, hmm?" He pushed her aside, wrapping his arm around Charlie's shoulder. "Now my dearest Charlie, let's think about this for a moment, shall we?"

"Charlie, no!"

Charlie fiddled for a moment, thinking about it, but as much as she hated to disagree with Vaggie, Alastor was right... He always managed to convince people to do different things, and right now, having the newcomer come to the hotel was all that mattered. She sighed, turning to face Vaggie. "I think we should let Alastor try..."

A small chuckle escaped Alastor's lips, his smile growing even wider as he heard Charlie's words. "Excellent choice, my dear Charlie! I promise not to disappoint you!" He clasped his hands together, his eyes sparkling happily as he was clearly enjoying this.

"Ugh, fine..." Vaggie groaned. "But if you fuck up"

"No need for threats, my dear! I assure you there's no need for you to worry!" his eyes turned to Angel, a glim of mischief into them. "Now, where do I find this little dearie of ours?"

You walked the halls of the huge building that the demon took you, still shivering from the... unconventional way you were brought there.

"Ah, I truly apologize for my assistant's... way of bringing you here." The TV demon, who presented himself as Vox, said, resting his arm on the small of your back as he guided you from one corridor to another. "I specifically told them that shoving people in that... black van is surely not the best idea." he laughed a bit nervously.

Your heart was beating so fast, a knot in your stomach as you didn't know what to expect. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, confusion still washing over you.

"Am I in Hell?" you asked, things starting to make sense.

"Yes, you're unfortunately in Hell darlin'," he answered, his voice smooth and almost melodic. You weren't surprised to be here, not after what you've done. Not after how many people you've hurt. "But don't worry, you're safe here with me." He chuckled a bit, his clawed hand brushing slightly on your back. "Now, I don't want to pressure you into anything, but I do look forward to finding out more about you. I think we could really help each other."

"I guess..." you said, realising it was better than roaming around this strange city without knowing anything.

Your eyes fell on your reflection whenever you would pass the big windows. You didn't look much different from your human self, but you seemed to resemble a rabbit, rather than anything else. A reminder that you'll always be what you've been your whole life - a prey, something meant to run and hide, in order to survive.

Vox eyed you closely, humming to himself as a smirk slowly formed on his screen. "Looks like you've figured out what you are," he said, his arm still resting on your back. "A rabbit, huh? Cute."

You blushed at his words, trying to hide your face. You felt so cornered right now, so vulnerable to him, not knowing if he was really going to protect you or give you a much worse fate.

"No need to be so shy, doll," he teased lightly, his arm gently tightening his grip around you. "I promise you're safe here. You're under my protection now, after all."

You watched as he unlocked a door, keeping it open for you. You swirled inside, taking in the huge apartment, looking rather luxurious. Vox followed you, shutting the door behind him. The apartment was lavish and spacious, with large windows at the end of the room, and the city lights glowing underneath it.

"Welcome to your new home," he said, his voice slightly echoing through the empty space. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Is this all mine?" you asked, still not believing.

"Yes, darlin', everything in this apartment is yours," he answered, watching as you looked around in wonder. "Consider yourself lucky. Not everyone in Hell gets to have a place like this." He stepped a bit closer, pride lingering inside of him as he watched your reaction. "Velvette will take care of your attire while you're here, so really no need to worry about anything."

You turned to face him, a bit puzzled by this entire situation. "Why are you helping me?"

Vox’s smile widened as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. "I'm a businessman, sweetheart," he said, his tone almost playful. "And I always have an eye out for potential investments. As for you..."

He walked toward you, striding over to you. He slowly trailed a finger along your chin, making you look up at him. "You're something... special. I couldn't let such a precious little thing get lost in this shithole of a city."

Your cheeks burned. You weren't used to being treated with such kindness, a warm feeling settling in your soul. He looked at the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "Ugh, have a meeting to attend to," he explained, moving away from you. "Settle in and think about my offer!"

"What about Valentino?" you asked, recalling the man you’d encountered upon your arrival, unbeknownst to Vox.

"What about Valentino?" He repeated, chuckling nervously.

"He said he has an offer for me too..."

You watched him sigh, his screen glitching slightly. "Just... don't. Ok?" You nodded, not sure if you should ask more questions or just keep quiet. Vox left, leaving you alone in your thoughts, a lingering sensation of loneliness filling your soul once again.

You walked around a bit, looking at how neat and beautiful everything seemed. You didn't expect to be like this and you surely didn't expect to be met with kindness, not here at least. With small steps, you took in the sight of the city. Was this how you were going to spend eternity? Was this all real?

"Impressive." a voice echoed behind you, making you jump. Your heartbeat quickened as you watched a demon that resembled a deer stand in front of you, his eyes fixed on your figure. "I have to admit, Vox really outdone himself with this one."

"Who are you?" you asked, your voice coming out more weak than you expected. Your ears flattened against your head, as you tried to distance yourself from the stranger, only to be met with the cold glass.

"Quite the frightened little bunny, aren't you?" he teased, a low chuckle echoing in your ears as static accompanied his voice. "My name is Alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you."

You just stood there frightened. In a moment, you made a lamp fly towards him, a frail attempt to protect yourself without making a big mess again. But just mere moments before hitting him, the lamp disappeared into a portal, nowhere to be seen anymore.

He chuckled, taking another step closer, almost towering over you. Alastor watched you from head to toe, clearly evaluating the situation and you. "Very interesting."

"I... Are you Vox's assistant?" you asked, feeling cornered by the deer demon.

He raised an eyebrow at your question, letting out a huff. "Well, of course not, my dear. I am actually here to make an offer." he crouched down to your level, his smile sending shivers down your spine. "You made quite a show for your first day... Those powers of yours..." he seemed almost lost in his thoughts, the possibilities you might offer pleasing him, but first, he had to make you leave Vox. "I know a place where you'll be safe, my dear. And perhaps..." he paused a bit, your ears perking up a bit in curiosity. "... perhaps even leave this place forever..."

Your face lit up for a moment. "Leave... Could I leave Hell?"

"Well, of course!" he said, getting up, his tone cheerful once again. "Is that something that you'd want?" You thought for a moment - you didn't think it was fair for you to end up in Hell... all you did was protect yourself, but... having the chance to go to Heaven? He smiled at your hesitation. "I take that you'd be interested, hmm?" he offered you his hand, helping you get back up.

"But... What about Vox?"

"Oh, don't worry about him. He just wants to use you to his advantage, dear. I can actually help you!" The static in his voice grew slightly when he spoke.

"How can I trust you?" you asked, making him sigh at the question, clearly frustrated by your questions.

"How about a deal, my dear, hm?"

"A deal?"

"Well, yes. I always respect my deals! You come with me and I guarantee you that one day, you will go to Heaven." he raised his hand, green flames engulfing it as you looked at it. "What would it be?"

"The fuck you mean she left?!" Vox asked, slamming the door to the apartment open.

"I told you, Vox! I came in, and she was gone!" Velvette protested. "I told you we can't trust the bitch!"

Vox walked around the apartment, his screen glitching from time to time. He was so angry, it felt like he was about to crash. "Ok, ok.... We can find her..." he tried to calm himself down, but his eyes fell on a little piece of paper on the counter. He quickly grabbed it and as soon as he read it, his screen almost overheated and froze.

"Maybe you should try harder than that, old pal."

"Um... Vox?" Velvette asked, a bit afraid he might have a short circuit again.

"I'm... gonna... kill... that fucker..."

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys

@ustulia @n0tmentallystable @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog

@alastorthirsty @l3rittany @catticora

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Leaving Me Behind (Jason Todd)

Summary: you question why Jason left you all alone.

Warnings: Angst

WC: 940ish

Read on Ao3!

-

The night air was cold, biting at your skin as you stood on the rooftop of the old safehouse. The city of Gotham stretched out below you, alive with its usual chaos, but for the first time in a long time, the chaos wasn’t your focus. Jason stood across from you, his helmet discarded on the ground between you, revealing his dark, disheveled hair and those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to pull you in no matter how hard you tried to resist.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you were angry. Confused. Heartbroken.

He had come back—after weeks, months even—without a word. No messages, no sign of him. He was just gone. And now he was standing here, like nothing had happened, like you were supposed to pick up right where you left off.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said quietly, his voice almost swallowed by the wind whipping around the building. His expression was serious, a mix of guilt and something else, something he was trying to hide.

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as the words bubbled up before you could stop them.

“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?” you asked, your voice cracking at the end.

Jason flinched at the question, his eyes dropping to the ground. For a moment, he looked as lost as you felt. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he let out a deep breath.

“I—” He started, but he stopped himself, shaking his head like he didn’t know where to begin.

“No, Jay,” you cut in, stepping forward. “You don’t get to walk back into my life after all this time, say you’re sorry, and think that fixes things. You left. You disappeared without a word, and I had no idea if you were alive or dead.”

“I know,” Jason said, his voice strained. “I know, and I hate myself for it.”

“Then why?” The pain in your voice was clear now, the anger giving way to the hurt you had been carrying since the day he vanished. “Why did you leave me?”

Jason’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he looked up at you, his eyes filled with something raw and unfiltered.

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I didn’t want you to get caught up in my mess. I thought if I left, you’d be safer. That you could move on, live a normal life without worrying if I’d come back in a body bag one day.”

You blinked, shocked by his words. Of all the reasons, you hadn’t expected that.

“So, what?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You thought leaving without a goodbye was better than letting me choose? You thought breaking my heart would protect me?”

Jason winced, the guilt in his eyes deepening. “I didn’t think it through, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want you to spend your life waiting for someone who might not make it back.”

“I didn’t care about that,” you said, stepping closer, the tears burning in your eyes now. “I didn’t care if it was dangerous, or if I had to wait. I just wanted you, Jason. I just wanted you to stay. To trust me enough to let me be part of your life. But you didn’t even give me that chance.”

Jason ran a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging as the weight of your words hit him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible now. “I thought I was doing it for you. But I was wrong. I was scared.”

You swallowed hard, your anger fading as the truth of his words settled in. Jason Todd—the Red Hood, the man who faced death and worse—was scared. Not of dying or fighting, but of losing you, of letting you in.

“Jay,” you said softly, taking another step toward him, your voice trembling. “I get it. I do. But you should have talked to me. You should have trusted me to make that choice with you.”

“I know,” Jason said, his voice cracking with regret. He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours, desperate. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you, I know that. But I came back because... because I couldn’t stay away. I tried, but I can’t. I need you.”

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice. He wasn’t just apologizing—he was pleading for another chance. And despite everything, despite the hurt and the months of wondering if he was gone for good, you still loved him. You always had.

You took one more step toward him, close enough now to reach out. Slowly, you lifted your hand to his cheek, your fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his jaw. Jason leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment like he was savoring it, like he was afraid it would disappear.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But I love you, Jay. I always will. Just… don’t leave me again. Not like that.”

Jason opened his eyes, and they were filled with so much emotion it took your breath away. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice hoarse. “I swear, I won’t.”

He wrapped his arms around you then, pulling you into his chest. The warmth of his embrace was familiar, comforting, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt at peace.

“I’m here,” Jason whispered against your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for now, that was enough.

-

want to be tagged in my work?

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

DCEU PERM TAGS: @other-fandom-reblogs

[shappobunny]

Stan Says Goodbye

I have never posted to tumblr someone pls tell me if it is abnormal to post a text this long.

Word count: 1764

____________________________________________________________

“Stanford, you can’t keep hiding away in that cabin forever. Ma’s memory is fading and she’s not going to be around for much longer. Don’t you want to say goodbye?” 

Shermie had left a million messages on the Shack’s phone. Each one a mirroring plea of the last call, begging Ford to come see their mother before she passed. 

But it was Stan listening to these messages, not Ford. He had no right to go see her.

The last time he had seen his ma, he had been hiding behind a curtain and a pillar at his own funeral. He nearly blew his cover when he saw her. Her hair was greying, and she was standing a little less tall than she used to, but it was her nonetheless. Those warm eyes that used to come down to level with him and the smile she would give him when she called him her special boy — all of that was the same. 

He didn’t think his mother would show up, not after ten years. He knew she had no way of knowing where he was, but he thought she felt the same way everyone else did. That he was the fuck-up of the family. The no-good son that ruined their one chance of having a better life. Who could think anything else? 

And now he had pushed her other son into a portal, forsaking him to some unknown world without knowing if he was alive or not. He couldn’t face her until he brought Ford back. 

He had to watch as she cried over his casket and it damn near killed him the way it broke his heart. 

But he had promised that day that he would bring Ford back soon and drag him along to ma’s house to show her that he was alive, and Ford was alive, and that they got along… Just like in the old days. They would sit in the kitchen and finally have tea with her — maybe even let her read their tea leaves once they were done. He would have saved Ford’s life and the family would gather again. For the first time in years, he wouldn’t be the fuck-up; he’d be his mother’s free-spirited Stanley. 

Things didn’t quite work out that way for Stan. As they usually didn’t. 

After 25 years he still hadn’t succeeded in bringing Ford back. After 25 years of sleepless nights and lonely desperation, he had nothing to offer to his ma in reconciliation. 

Now he was sitting on his couch pressing through message after message from Shermie begging him to come see her one last time. 

“Whaddya want me to do Shermie…” Stan muttered, folding forward to put his head in his hands. 

Did he want him to lie to his own mother on her deathbed? Or to tell her that her other son was most likely dead and gone somewhere they’d never even find his body? 

Stan wondered if Ford would have even gone to see her. The way he was the last time Stan had seen him, it was like the last thing Ford wanted was to see anybody. 

The phone rang again and Stan let it ring. The answering machine beeped and Shermie’s tinny voice came through the speaker. 

“Stanford I’ll be away from the city tomorrow to get a few things in order for ma’s funeral… You’ll get a break from my calls at least,” Shermie paused for a long while, and Stan thought that maybe that was the end of this call until he said, “She keeps saying your name, you know. Yours and Stanley’s… She‘s waiting for you,” he sighed. After a beat of silence, Stan heard the click of the phone hanging up. 

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

Stan watched the shadows of the pine trees dancing across his ceiling. What did his father used to say about the men in the Pines family? 

He closed his eyes and listened to the wind outside his window. He could almost hear the sound of gulls and the crashing waves of Glass Shard Beach. He could picture Ford, red from being sat in the sun all day scribbling away the plans for their boat. 

That Ford would want him to say goodbye to ma. 

In his memory, Ford smiled up at him as he ran over and they raced towards the waves, letting them pull out their little bodies to the water. 

Stan finally fell asleep.

The next morning he closed up the shop, and put on his cleanest suit. He wore Ford’s glasses, and found some six-fingered gloves lying around to slip on. Nothing fit quite right. The glasses were a little too loose, and Ford’s jacket was a little snug around the arms. 

Looking up in the mirror, he looked like his brother. 

When he got in the car he sat there for a long while. Not having the courage to turn on the ignition until the sun came at just the right angle to blind him. He finally began the car and started driving. 

What would he say to ma? What would Ford say? Probably something smart, and then he’d invent the machine that would save her life. 

That damn know-it-all, showing him up even in his own damn mind. If it weren’t for Ford trying to send him away 25 years ago, maybe they would have made up. Maybe they would have taken ma in when she started feeling unwell. 

Maybe Stan wouldn’t have to say goodbye to ma alone. 

Damn it. Was he crying? 

He wiped at his eyes with his sleeves, steeling his nerves so he could drive straight. 

He picked up some flowers at a shop down the street from the home she was in, and he checked into the home using Stanford’s name. Stan stood in front of her door for a long time, listening to see if anyone else was in the room. The silence was almost worse. He had no excuse to turn tail and run. He had to go in there and say goodbye to his mother. 

He knocked, a quick three raps. 

“Who is it?” His mother’s voice asked, as strong as ever. 

Stan smiled and opened the door. “It’s me ma, Stanford!” 

“Stanford?” She looked up at him from her spot on the bed, her eyes narrowed like she couldn’t see him quite right. “Sit down over here so I can get a good look atcha.” 

Stan set the flowers on her bedside and settled into the seat next to her. She was wrinkled and all grey now, but her brown eyes were still the same. 

“How have you been doing, ma? Shermie’s left me a million messages saying you’re on death’s door!” 

She smiled. “That Shermie can be even more of a nuisance than you are, Stanley.” 

Stan froze for a single second before smiling. “Ma you’ve got the wrong twin. It’s me, Stanford.” 

She reached a shaky hand to pat his. “Stanley you think I wouldn’t recognize my own boy?” She smiled. “You must think so little of your old ma.” 

He took a deep breath to compose himself. Her memory isn’t right, that’s what Shermie said. She’s just misremembering. 

“Ma Stan passed away twenty five years ago, remember?” 

It took everything in him not to choke on his words. 

“And Stanford didn’t show up at all?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t scam your old mother, Stanley, I taught you everything you know. Stanford would show up at your funeral. That boy isn’t as cold as he thinks he is.” 

He couldn’t answer. 

His mother pat his hand. “Oh, there, there, sweetie.” 

It took him a second to realize she was comforting him because his vision had begun to blur. He felt the damp trail of tears on his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. 

She tugged on his hand lightly so he would lean in, and he did. She put her arm around his shoulder as best as she could and gave him a weak squeeze. “Whatever fight you and Stanford have going on now, you’ll figure it out, sweetie. Ya always do...” 

Stan tried to stop himself from shaking so hard in his mother’s embrace but he knew he was failing. He held on a little tighter to his mother’s hand. 

“My sweet Stanley… You’ll figure it out.” 

“Ma what if he doesn’t come back?” Stan asked shakily. 

“Your brother is stubborn as a bull, he’ll come back just to prove you wrong.” 

Stan laughed at that and pulled away a little, to look into her eyes again. 

He missed her. So much. 

“Your breath is awful,” she said, grimacing. “Did I not teach you to brush your teeth?” 

Stan burst out laughing. “You don’t even have any teeth left, ma.” He didn’t want to tell her that he didn’t either.

“I’m on my death bed, what do I need teeth for?” 

A loud knock came at the door and Stan turned away, making sure to wipe his tears dry. He stood when the person entered. 

It was Shermie, holding a binder in one arm and a coat in another. 

“Stanford!” He said, his eyes widening in surprise. “You came.” 

Stan cleared his throat. 

“Uh… yeah, I couldn’t not come. It’s just been so… busy.” He tried to keep his voice low, hoping Shermie had forgotten what Ford sounded like at this point. 

“Well I’m glad you came,” Shermie looked over at their mother in her bed. “Aren’t you glad Stanford came by?” 

“Why would I be glad that this little brat ignored me for years just to say goodbye?” She asked gruffly. 

Shermie laughed. “Same as ever, ma.” 

Stan took the lighthearted mood as his means of escape. He began walking towards the door but took one last look back at his mother. 

She smiled warmly at him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He wanted to burn this image of her in his mind, sitting tall and confident, reassuring him that things might turn out after all. 

When he found Ford, he would tell him about her on this day. How she knew without hesitation, how she made all of his loneliness melt away, and how she gave him the hope to finally bring him back. He would tell Ford that she loved them both until the end, just as much as she did the day she brought them home. 

Ford would cry with him 

“I’ll be back, ma,” he said with a smile. 

She winked at him before saying, “Doncha dare come back!”

[0omillo0]

KIM SEUNGMIN X FEM! READER 𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n: pure fluff <33

syn: you and seungmin have been seeing eachother for some months. you were friends, yes, but you had feelings for him. ofc he didn’t like you back, did he..?

ᡣ𐭩

You had always wondered what it would feel like to be in love with someone who didn’t love you back. The kind of ache people wrote about in songs, or spilled into poems. You never thought it would feel quite like this, though—a slow burn in your chest that grew heavier every time Seungmin crossed your mind.

And Seungmin was always on your mind.

Your crush on him had been obvious for months, and although he was sweet, charming, and funny, he never made it clear if he felt the same way. You’d catch him staring at you sometimes, but he’d always look away, expression unreadable. You tried dropping hints, but Seungmin was impossible to figure out. After a while, you convinced yourself that he just didn’t like you the way you liked him. If he did, he would’ve said something by now, right?

Which is why you were sitting in a cafe right now with Jisoo. He was nice. Easy-going, and he’d made it clear early on that he liked you. So you thought, maybe if you gave someone else a chance, you could get over Seungmin. Maybe Jisoo could be the person to help you move on.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you glanced down, unlocking it to see the message.

Seungmin:

Where are you?

read 18:40

You bit your lip, glancing up at Jisoo, who was rambling on about his plans for the weekend. He didn’t seem to notice that you were distracted.

You:

Out with a friend. Why?

read 18:42

There was a long pause. You could see the three dots blinking at the bottom of the screen, then disappearing, and then blinking again. Finally, his reply came.

Seungmin:

Never mind.

read 18:51

You frowned at the message. What was that about? For some reason, your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shoved your phone back into your bag, determined to focus on Jisoo. This was good. It was a step in the right direction.

But that lingering feeling in your chest didn’t go away.

The next few days were strange.

Seungmin was everywhere, as usual—at mutual gatherings, in your group chat, sending memes to everyone except you. But there was something off. He wasn’t talking to you like he normally did, barely even acknowledging your existence. Every time you entered the room, he found an excuse to leave. When you tried to talk to him, he’d give one-word answers or act like he hadn’t heard you.

It stung.

By the third day, you were sure something was seriously wrong. Seungmin never ignored you like this before. Had you done something wrong? Said something that pissed him off?

Your phone buzzed again. It was a message from Jisoo, asking you to hang out tomorrow. You sighed, scrolling through your chat history with Seungmin, hoping to find a clue as to why he was acting this way.

But there was nothing.

Frustrated, you typed out a message to him, your fingers trembling slightly.

You:

Hey. Are you mad at me or something? You’ve been ignoring me for days. Did I do something?

seen 10:37

You stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear. Nothing. Seungmin had seen your message, but there was no response.

Your heart sank. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care, but the truth was, you did. More than you wanted to admit.

That night, it rained. Hard.

You sat in your living room, the sound of raindrops pelting against the window almost soothing. The TV was on, but you weren’t paying attention, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Seungmin.

Your phone vibrated on the couch beside you, and for a moment, you thought it was Jisoo. But when you glanced at the screen, your heart stopped.

Seungmin:

We need to talk. Now.

seen 21:50

You blinked at the message, not sure how to respond.

You:

Okay? About what?

seen 21:51

This time, the response was immediate.

Seungmin:

About you. And Jisoo.

seen 21:51

Your chest tightened. Why would Seungmin care about that? Did he…? No. He couldn’t possibly—

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Startled, you jumped up from the couch, heart racing. You weren’t expecting anyone.

But when you opened the door, there he was—Seungmin, soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from the edges of his jacket.

“Seungmin?” you gasped, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? You’re soaking wet!”

He ignored your concern, stepping inside without invitation. His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he was looking right at you, as if he’d been holding something in for too long and couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice tight with frustration.

You blinked, confused. “Tell you what?”

“About Jisoo,” he spat out, like the name itself was poison on his tongue.

You stared at him, speechless. “What… What does Jisoo have to do with anything?”

Seungmin’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his wet hair, his chest heaving. “Everything! How long have you been seeing him?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He knew? How did he even—?

“That’s none of your business, Seungmin!” you shot back, feeling a surge of anger. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” Seungmin laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just bitterness. “Because you’re seeing someone else. Because I thought you were—fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. But I didn’t think you’d just go off and start dating someone else.”

“You never said anything!” you shouted, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You never showed any sign that you liked me, Seungmin. I’ve been waiting for months, hoping you’d do something, but you didn’t! So I moved on.”

Seungmin stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The rain was still pouring outside, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the storm inside your apartment was far worse.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Seungmin whispered, taking a step closer to you. “I liked you, Y/N. I liked you so much that it scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t want to ruin anything between us, so I held back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He… liked you? This whole time?

“I thought you didn’t like me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You never showed it.”

“I thought I had time,” Seungmin admitted, his voice low. “I thought if I waited long enough, I’d figure out how to tell you. But when I found out about Jisoo… I realized I didn’t have time. You’re slipping away from me.”

You stood frozen, your heart racing as the weight of his words settled in. You weren’t sure how to process any of this.

“I was trying to get over you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to be any louder.

Seungmin took another step forward, so close now that you could see the raindrops clinging to his lashes. “And now?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “Now… I don’t know.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, and his hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

“Tell me to leave, and I will,” Seungmin murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Tell me to walk away, and I won’t bother you again.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

That was all Seungmin needed.

He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an urgency that took your breath away. His hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers clutching the fabric of his wet jacket.

The kiss was desperate, like he was making up for all the time he’d lost. And in that moment, everything else faded away—the rain, Jisoo, the doubts that had plagued you for so long. It was just you and Seungmin, tangled up in each other, finally giving in to what had been building between you for months.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Seungmin rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “Yeah. You have.”

Seungmin pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. “So… where do we go from here?”

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. “We figure it out. Together.”

Seungmin grinned, his dimples making your heart do a somersault. “Together, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Not Man, Nor Monster

Masterlist Word count: 1.5 k Halsin x Reader x Astarion (but he isn't really in it. just the dynamic) Read on AO3

Summary: You tried so hard, but in the end you couldn't stop Astarion's ascension. It weighs on you harder than you had imagined. Halsin helps you get through it.

Normally, camp is a place to unwind. A place where the outside world doesn't exist, except for those nights where the outside world infiltrates camp. Luckily, those nights are few and far between.   Tonight is a different situation. There are two empty tents. One is permanently empty, the other temporarily abandoned to find peace in nature. The one belongs to Astarion, the other to Tav. The rest of the group thought about going after either of them to try and talk this through, but Jaheira made the wise decision to let everything cool down before starting a conversation.  There's a blanket of tension and gloom thrown over the camp as everyone tries to dance around the subject at hand. Jaheira, Halsin, and Gale sit around the campfire, all three hopelessly lost while looking for something to talk about while a bottle of mermaid whiskey gets passed around in circles that seem to go a little too fast. Scratch and Honey, the owlbear Tav jokingly named after Halsin's favourite snack, scatter around but aren't playing as they usually do. It seems even the two of them can feel the tension. Scratch had to be called back multiple times while trying to go after Tav.  Gale finally breaks the silence: 'So what do we do now?' Jaheira shows a pained smile as the mermaid whiskey is passed to her. The bottle is almost empty by now.  'We drink and we wait,' she speaks. Halsin shivers. Quite the sight to see someone that big shiver.  'This doesn't feel right.' As if on que, a bloodcurdling scream is heard from the forest. It is loaded with regret, pain, and heartbreak. The scream goes through bone and marrow, sending a cold shiver down the spines of everyone at camp. Shadowheart comes running towards the campfire, panic in her eyes.  'I think someone should check up on them,' she hastily says, almost getting ready to run into the woods but Halsin gets up and nods to her. She looks defeated and maybe a little annoyed. Jaheira pats the spot on the ground where Halsin was sitting as he walks calmy towards the forest. 'But I-'  'It's better if he goes,' Jaheira interrupts, 'those two are inseparable.' Shadowheart knows it to be true but still looks hesitant as she sits down. Jaheira passes her the mermaid whiskey. She toys with the bottle for a second before finishing it off. 

'Tav, are you here?' Halsin doesn't have to ask, he is one with the forest and knows every creature there. He simply does it to be polite, to give Tav a chance to tell him to piss off if they so please. He finds them curled up and sobbing, laying in the middle of a small clearing. They look up at Halsin with big, red eyes. He hates the sight and would kill Astarion for doing this to Tav but they are more important than his murderous rage right now.  He sits down next to them and they lay their head in his lap. Halsin gently brushes his fingers through their hair, allowing them to let it all go, let everything slip out.  'He told me he'd make me his spawn, after everything we've been through. He tried to do to me what has been done to him. I should've never helped him with the ritual. I am so stupid.'  'No darling, you couldn't predict this. You see the good in everyone, that's what makes you so incredibly special. It is one of many reasons why I love you.'  'You know, that's the worst part. He told me he loved me before proposing to make me his spawn. How can someone be so incredibly cruel? He was healing and this just changed everything.'  'It pains me to see you like this. No one deserves that kind of treatment.'  'But I do. I am far too naïve to fight this fight. I shouldn't be leading a group of people into battle. I'm not strong enough. I make too many stupid decisions.' Halsin can feel as the pain and sadness Tav feels turns into rage and self-hatred. It's something he's never seen of them before. They're normally the sunshine smile at camp, the motivator, the helper. He must've been blind to forget they're a person with fears and insecurities too. Blinded in the light of their smile as to not see the shadows behind it.  'My heart, if not you then who? You are the only one in this camp without a clouded opinion. The only one who weighs every option evenly and thinks ahead. Sometimes I feel like you can see into the future.'  'Even so, I let someone with such a black heart cloud my judgement for so long. I can only be grateful that you saw through all of it. Not everyone at camp is as forgiving as you are.'  'My love, I am not forgiving in the slightest. I hold grudges until the end of time but you always see reason.'  'Halsin, please. I know you're trying to make it better, but I just want to wallow in my feelings until I can't feel anything anymore.'  'Are you sure?'  'No, but your words usually soothe me. Now they only piss me off. I don't want to hate you.' Their breath hitches in their throat as the sobs come up again. Halsin lays himself down in the grass and pats his chest. Tav takes the invitation and lays their head on his chest, curled into his body with his arm around them, holding them tight. It feels like a safety blanket, like a cloud numbing the feelings of before. The big feelings weighing on their chest seem to lose their weight as a spell of tiredness lifts over them. Surely, Halsin has something to do with it, as well as the protective spell they feel encasing them in their spot, but they don't mind. And slowly night becomes day. 

'They're not back yet,' Shadowheart asks Jaheira while they're both suiting up.  'No, and I doubt we'll head out today.' Jaheira can tell that, while she's trying to be respectful and loving, it annoys Shadowheart that Tav can't shove their feelings to the side in favour of the greater good. 'They'll be fine soon. They're strong but you have to realize that they've been playing the part of listening ear for weeks now. Maybe even months. They've listened to everyone's troubles and tried to fix them. Astarion was a real piece of work but even I could see he was starting to regain self-worth and love for life. Besides, they were together for some time. They did everything they could to make Astarion as comfortable and happy as possible and he still stabbed them in the back. That's not something you come back from easily.'  'What do you mean?'  'You did not hear what he proposed to her last night?'  'No, it is not my business.'  'You should make it your business,' Jaheira grumbles, 'he told them he loved them and he'd make them his spawn to love forever.'  'I see. It makes more sense now.' 

Morning light wakes Tav with a comforting thumping under their head. They open their eyes to see Halsin still peacefully sleeping. The protective spell he covered them with has long worn off and so has the sleeping spell he put on them. A smile spreads on their lips as they push themselves up to press the sweetest of kisses on his lips. They did not want his help yesterday but are more than glad he put them to sleep. Nothing they thought or said was rational yesterday.  'You are going to give me toothaches if you keep kissing me that sweetly.'  'I thought you liked sweet.'  'I never said I do not.' A content feeling flushes over Tav as they lose themselves in this moment. There is still good in the world.  'I've been dreaming,' Tav tells halsin, 'I dreamt about a world overgrown with lush greenery and people living in peace with each other and everything around them. There was no Astarion, no elder brain, no tadpoles. Just you and me sitting on the porch of a tiny house we built looking out onto a lake. Sometimes we would go out and roam, uncover the forests around us and finding new spots each and every time. And you told me you loved me every day and I said it back every time.' Halsin smiles and tightens his arm around Tav.  'That sounds like heaven.'  'I wish it were possible.'  'Maybe it is. Maybe we'll find a way after all of this is over.' They stay quiet for a while.  'I think we'll need to kill Astarion after all of this is over. I fear he might be worse than Cazador.'  'As much as I wish it were different, I think you are right, but we'll get there when we get there.'  'Deal.'  'Are you ready to return to camp?'  'Not yet. Let's just stay a little longer.' 

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think Adrien should've had a rival/antagonist character like Marinette has Chloe and Lila (and even Kagami somewhat pre Ikari Gozen) ? In a leaked old Bible solely for ML S1 it was apparently said that they've planned to have both Kim and Ivan antagonize Adrien due to both of them being in love with Chloe and thus jealous of her crush on Adrien, so it seems like they wanted Adrien to have as many antagonists as Marinette initially before they scrapped the idea of Adrien ever being antagonized directly by someone.

My gut reaction when I read this was, "no," because I think that Marinette has too many antagonists. They've gone the everyone-must-either-hate-or-love-her route and it's exhausting! It does her and the overall story no favors, plus I don't want even more ridiculously over the top bullies in this show. Then I thought about it for a minutes and change my stance.

If you are going for a more serious serialized story where you give canon a true plot, then all of the side antagonists should either be cut out entirely or toned down to something far more mild.

If you are going the full or even just mostly episodic route where canon is mostly standalone stories, then giving Adrien some antagonists is actually a good idea. It's a nice way to give someone other than Marinette a chance to be the target of bullying. Outside of some stuff from season one, it's basically all aimed at Marinette, which is why I find it exhausting! If Marinette and Adrien each had a Lila instead of Marinette getting Lila, Sabrina, and Chloe, then it probably would make for a better show even if the writing was still less than stellar.

[ghost-proofbaby]

OH god, sooo many kellin fics. Most were on wattpad honestly.

A lot of them all blur together (also a few kellic fics yikes), but I specifically remember one with an OC? Like kellin cheated on his wife with her and she nearly died or something? Classic wattpad and shitty summary but IT WAS SO GOOD. I think the girl's name was Brooke or Brooklyn. (also keep in mind this was 2012? 2013? wattpad. so... maybe not good by our current day standards but back then it was AMAZING). I can't remember the name but if you want it I would be willing to go on the deep dive for you 👀

SAY FUCKING SIKE RIGHT NOW.

you don't need to deep dive for the fic. her name was brooklyn mackenzie or some stupid shit, the fic's name is 'The Secret Affair', and it's going to haunt me until the day i die because i wrote it at 13 years old.

congratulations, nonnie. you can officially say you are one of the og readers of my fics. i certainly hope my writing has improved this last decade.

(unless there was another popular kellin fic with the exact same plot as mine. in that case, this is embarrassing).

[alicethebard]

.

[mejomonster]

Every time I go on a dating app I feel hopeless -.-

[unholyeverything]

I just realised tomorrow marks the 7ths week of me being sick and feeling like garbage lol It's some ups and downs but generally it's been a while since I've been healthy and none knows whats up which is nice.