#his brothers NEVER let him hear the end if it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hottiesforhockey · 1 day ago

Text

may the best brother win pt 4⎜hughes brothers

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: not much tbh ⎜very angsty ⎜happy ending ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 6k authors note: this is the final chapter of may the best brother win! I know a lot of you had thoughts on who she should end up with so I hope too many people don't hate me for my choices! I hope you all enjoyed reading (cause I know I enjoyed writing) and will continue to support me with my work going forwards! Feel free to check out my upcoming list to see what I'm working on next! pt 1 ⎜pt 2 ⎜ pt 3 ⎜

(unedited)

It’s close to two in the morning when you finally slide out of Luke’s grip, replacing your body with a firm pillow which he snuggles straight into, a delighted smile on his face. Your frown deepens as you tiptoe around the room, placing as many of your belongings as you can manage into the suitcase - zipping it up as quietly as possible before pulling on Luke’s oversized hoodie and the pair of sweatpants you had left out, your phone dinging with the confirmation of your flight back home.

You look over Luke still fast asleep in the bed one more time as you let out a long sigh, silently walking towards the bed leaning down to push his unruly curls away from his face. “Please don’t be mad.” You whisper into the quiet night, placing a soft kiss against his hairline before tugging the blankets further up his body and sneaking out of the room with your belongings in tow.

You’re barely down the stairs when you notice the soft glow coming from the entry room - someone is awake and judging by the silence it has to be Quinn. You knew he had a tendency to stay up late at night, enjoying the quiet of the world before eventually tucking himself into bed - you just never thought tonight would be the night he stayed up later then usual. You let out another sigh as you continue your way down the stairs.

“You’re leaving?” Quinns voice is quiet, a soft lamp besides him the only thing illuminating the room as you place your suitcase by the front door - glancing down at your phone as you track the uber.

“I have to, Quinn.” The desperation in your tone flings Quinn from his seat in the armchair - his steps leading him towards you before he can even think about it. You take two steps back as he gets close enough to reach you - his own feet finally pausing as he takes you in.

Wrapped up in sweatpants and Luke’s hoodie, you hair pulled back from your face and all your belongings sitting at your feet.

“I’m coming with you.” Quinn says on a long sigh, his hands pushing his soft hair away from his forehead, his face starting to crumble slightly as he nods his head in determination.

“No.” You whisper, your phone dinging with the notification that your uber was 2 minutes away. “I need you to stay - someone has to stop them from ripping each other apart, from ripping themselves apart.” You explain, letting out a shaky sigh as you take a few steps towards him, lifting yourself up to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

“I’m sorry that I have to ask you to do this, Quinn.” You take one step back. “I’m sorry that you have to be the one to fix things, again.” You take another step back. “I’m sorry.” You whisper as you pick up your suitcase again, hearing Quinn let out a soft groan.

“Just—” He starts, “Just tell me when you get home safe” He says, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip, “I just need to know that you’re okay.”

“I will.” You agree, looking over the oldest Hughes brother one more time before sneaking out the front door, shutting it behind you with barely a sound as you slide into your uber, letting out a stifled sob as you hold your hand to your mouth, watching the house disappear in the review mirror, watching everything you’d even know be left behind.

“Where is she?” Quinn groans as he pulls himself in a sitting position - he had waited for the rest of the night for your updates, perched in his favourite arm chair the glow of the lamp the only thing keeping him company as he waited for your message.

number 1 fan 🪭: just arrived at the airport - probably won’t be home till lunchtime but I’ll keep you posted.

number 1 fan 🪭: I’m sorry.

celebrity crush ♥️: don’t be sorry, just be safe.

Quinn had responded to your message without a second thought - he didn’t want apologies, he wanted you to come home even thought a part of him knew this was what you needed - the past week had turned into a shit fight so quickly, none of you really anticipating how a fun bet would turn into a broken household.

“All of her stuff is gone?” Luke shouts again, Quinn can hear the banging of doors as Luke races around the house trying to find you, the desperation evident in the way he comes bolting down the stairs next, his eyes meeting Quinns. Quinn isn’t entirely sure what Luke sees in his expression but his younger brothers face drops, his mouth dropping into a frown as he stumbles on the words he’s trying to get out.

“Quinn, where is she— tell me she didn’t leave.” Luke begs, his voice cracking on the last word.

Quinn sighs deeply, running his hand over his face before locking eyes with Luke. “She’s gone.”

“Why didn’t you stop her?” Luke’s tone is accusatory, frustration and fear lacing his words.

“She needed space, Luke. We all saw it. She couldn’t keep doing this… to herself, to us.” Quinn’s voice is calm but firm, his gaze unwavering. Luke shakes his head, pacing the room.

“No, no. I can fix this. I have to fix this. I’ll call her—I told her I’d fix it.” Luke lets out a shaky breath, his fingers tangling in his hair, “She didn’t even give me a chance to fix it.”

“Don’t.” Quinn steps in front of Luke, stopping him in his tracks. “Give her time. The last thing she needs is pressure from us right now.” Luke’s shoulders slump, defeat written all over him.

“I didn’t want her to leave… She didn’t even say goodbye.”

“She was upset, Luke.” Quinn places a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She did what was best for her and we have to be okay with that.” Luke nods slowly, his jaw clenched.

“How are you so calm right now?” Luke says, his gaze shooting up the stairs as they both hear the sound of Jack’s door swinging open.

“What the hell is all the commotion about?” Jack mumbles as he takes heavy steps down stairs.

“I’m not calm, Luke — I’m freaking out but she’s an adult she knows how to take care of herself and we need to trust her.” Quinn tries to explain clearly, not used to the sight of his youngest brother being so genuinely furious. Luke was the loveable one, he was fun and energetic but the way he was glaring at Jack made the pit in Quinn’s stomach grow.

“Luke, don—”

“This is your fault.” Luke sneers as Jack comes into view, the middle brother confused by the sudden aggression.

“What’s my fault?” Jack asks cautiously, his brows furrowed as he looks between his brothers.

“She’s gone because of you,” Luke accuses, stepping closer to Jack, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re the one who started all of this. The stupid bet, the arguments—everything. You pushed her away.” Jack’s expression shifts from confusion to guilt. He opens his mouth to defend himself but no words come out. Instead, he looks to Quinn for some sort of backup, but Quinn remains silent, his gaze heavy with disappointment.

“Luke, stop,” Quinn finally says, his voice firm but not harsh. “We’re all to blame. We let things get out of hand. Don’t put this all on Jack.”

“He’s the one who made her feel like she was doing something wrong!” Luke’s voice rises, cracking with emotion. “She was so worried about what he thought and about making him mad and all he did was make it worse.”

Jack flinches at the words, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.

“But you did, you called her a slut,” Luke snaps. “And now she’s gone.” The room falls into silence, the weight of Luke’s words hanging in the air. Jack drops onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair as he watches his brothers fall apart.

“We can fix this,” Quinn says softly, breaking the silence. “But we need to give her time. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

Luke shakes his head, tears brimming in his eyes. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Quinn says with quiet certainty. “But we need to be better for her when she does. No more bets, no more fights.”

Jack lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed. “Do you really think she’ll come back?”

Quinn nods. “I do. But it won’t be because we beg her to. It’ll be because she wants to. Because she feels safe here again.” The sound of Quinn’s phone buzzing breaks the tense silence. He quickly pulls it out of his pocket, his heart racing as he sees your name flash across the screen.

number 1 fan 🪭: just boarded my flight. i’ll text when i land.

Quinn exhales shakily, typing back a quick response.

celebrity crush ♥️: okay. Fly safe.

He stares at the screen for a moment, hoping for more, but no other messages come through. He pockets his phone and looks back at his brothers. “She’s okay, she just got on her flight.” Quinn updates the brothers, Luke letting out a breath of relief as he slumps against the couch, his glare focused on Jack as Quinn runs his fingers through his hair, for what seems to be the thousandth time that night. Luke’s phone dings next, the youngest brother ripping it out of his pocket as he stares down at the message his frown unchanging but his posture relaxing a little.

bestie boo 👻 : Hey Luke, just thought I’d let you know that I’m okay - I’m sorry I up and left out of nowhere and I’m sorry I never said goodbye, but just know leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I know you’re worried but this isn’t goodbye forever I just need to clear my head a little, so don’t be too harsh on your brothers - I’ll message you later, promise.

Lukey pookie 🐥 : Just don’t leave me for too long - I can come to you.

Luke knows he’s coming off as desperate.

But he is desperate.

Luke’s head perks up at the sound of Jack’s phone dinging, his brother hesitantly pulling it out of his pocket as he lets out a long sigh, a whimper sitting in the back of the throat as he drops it back in his lap.

“Well what does it say?” Luke pries, his brother owes him this - owes them all this.

“She said I forgive you, I hope you can forgive me.” Jack lets out a low growl of frustration as he pushes himself up from his seat. “I can’t let her leave it like this, I’m going after her.” He grumbles, stomping his way to the front door for his keys, his hands shaking as he tucked them into his pocket.

“No, you’re not.” Quinn cuts in, standing in front of the front door as both brothers look at him like he’s got two heads, their mouths falling open as he crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s asking us for one thing and we are going to give it to her, whether you like it or not.” Quinn’s fingers reach for his hair again but he drops them, “Both of you go take a breather, she’ll let us know when she’s home and then we can go from there.” All the brothers nod, Luke being the first to leave, his long legs carrying him out of the house before anyone can second guess it - Jack leaves next dragging himself back up the stairs to his room, leaving Quinn back where he started the night in his arm chair with the lamp still glowing a soft yellow.

His phone dings again in his hand.

number 1 fan 🪭: I love you all, I hope you know that.

It’s the first time in years Quinn has cried as hard as he does in that arm chair.

“What do you mean you’re not going back to Michigan?” Your mums voice carries through your headphones as you roughly chop the vegetables in front of you. “What happened? I don’t understand why you left in the first place.” Your mother continues, not stopping as you place your knife back on the chopping board letting out a long sigh.

“It’s complicated, but I feel like maybe have the summer apart will help mend things, give everyone some space to think.” You explain, rolling your eyes as your mum continues to try to convince you to start heading back to Michigan, claiming her mothers intuition is telling her it’s the right choice, her words only pausing at the ringing of your intercom.

“Look, I’ve got to go but I’ll call you back later.” You say, quickly bidding your mum goodbye as you hang up the phone call, slipping your headphones around your neck before walking over to your front door, pressing the buzzer to let the delivery driver in. “Must be the amazon guy.” You shrug, waiting until your hear the loud knock at the door.

Luke stands there, drenched from the rain, his hoodie clinging to him, water dripping from the ends of his curls. His eyes — tired, desperate, and stormy — lock onto yours, and for a long, breathless moment, neither of you speaks.

“You weren’t going to call.” His voice is low, rough around the edges. There’s no question in his tone — just a quiet statement of fact.

Your throat tightens. “I thought it’d be easier this way.”

“Easier for who?” His jaw clenches as he steps inside without waiting for an invitation, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The silence stretches thin, like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap. “Because it sure as hell hasn’t been easier for me.”

You swallow hard, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that might shield you from the intensity of his stare. “What do you want me to say, Luke?”

“I want you to tell me why you left,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “I want to know why you didn’t even give me a chance to fix things.”

Your chest tightens painfully. “I didn’t think there was anything left to fix.”

His eyes narrow, frustration flickering across his face. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Your resolve wavers under his gaze. You take a step back, needing distance, but he follows. There’s nowhere to run — no place to hide from the weight of his presence.

“Everything was falling apart,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “The fights, the tension… It felt like we were breaking, Luke. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. I couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t my fault.” Luke lets out a low scoff at your words, his head shaking as he continues to step towards you.

“You didn’t have to leave.” His voice softens, the anger bleeding out, replaced by something more vulnerable.

Tears prick at your eyes, and you shake your head. “I was scared.”

“Of what?” he asks, stepping closer again, his tone more pleading than demanding now.

“Of losing you,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “Of losing what all of us had before the stupid bet, we were best friends, Luke and now Jack can’t even look at me.” Luke exhales shakily, running a hand through his wet hair.

“You could never lose me, and Jack—” He pauses, a grimace on his face, “Jack’s complicated.”

“So you all keep saying.” You sigh, moving the piece of hair that’s falls onto your face, you look away, your gaze falling to the floor. “You deserve better then me, you all do and maybe it’s best if we all just take a bre—.”

“Stop.” His voice is firm, pulling your attention back to him. His eyes are burning with emotion, and when he speaks again, his voice is raw. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. Don’t decide for me. I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect.”

Your hands tremble at your sides. “Luke—”

“No.” He takes another step forward, so close now you can feel the warmth radiating off him despite the cold rain soaking his clothes. “You don’t get to walk away and tell me it’s for my own good. You don’t get to leave without saying goodbye and pretend like it was some noble choice.” His words cut deep, hitting every raw nerve you’ve been trying to ignore.

The tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over, and your voice cracks as you say, “I didn’t know what else to do.” Any hint of Luke’s anger dissolves completely from his body as he steps towards you, wrapping his arms around you tightly, your sobs muffled in his chest.

“Why didn’t you stay? We could’ve talked about this sooner instead of you just keeping yourself all cooped up in this stupid apartment.” Luke sighs, his chin perched on the top of your head as he rocks you back and forth letting you cry into the fabric of his hoodie.

“I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me,” you whisper, your voice muffled against Luke’s chest. “After everything that happened, I thought it was easier if I just… disappeared for a while.” Luke pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. His expression is soft, tender, but there’s a fire in his eyes that you can’t ignore.

“Do you really think so little of me?” he asks quietly. “Do you think I’d just let you walk away without a fight?” You shake your head, your hands gripping the front of his hoodie.

“It wasn’t about you, Luke. It was about me. I couldn’t handle the guilt, the pressure—everything just felt so overwhelming.”

Luke takes a deep breath, his hands dropping to his sides. “I get that. I do. But you can’t make these kinds of decisions alone. We’re supposed to be a team.” The word “team” hits you harder than you expect, and for a moment, you’re both silent, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. Luke steps back, running a hand through his wet curls, shaking his head.

“Jack’s a mess,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. “He’s been beating himself up since the second you left. He knows he messed up. Hell, we all did..” You sigh, rubbing your temples. “He doesn’t leave his room, Quinn puts food outside his door and it’s usually gone so at least we know he’s eating.” Luke lets out a bitter laugh, his eyes locking with yours, “I’m not trying to guilt trip you or anything, I just—” He pauses, a frown growing as he thinks of what to say, “I just want you to know that he wants the chance to fix things.”

“I don’t know how to fix things with Jack. He said some things… things that hurt more than I’d like to admit.”

Luke nods solemnly. “I know. And he’s probably not going to apologise the way you want him to. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He just… he needs time.”

“Time,” you echo, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “That’s all anyone ever says. Give it time. But what if time isn’t enough?”

“It will be.” Luke’s voice is steady, unwavering. “Because we’re not giving up on you. None of us are. You mean too much to us to let this be the end.” Your heart aches at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the walls you’ve built around yourself. You want to believe him. You want to believe that things can be fixed, that you can find your way back to the life you had before everything fell apart.

But the doubt still lingers.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I’m scared that things won’t ever be the same again. That I’ve ruined everything.” Luke steps closer again, taking your hands in his.

“Nothing is ruined, I promise… just give me a chance to show you.” Luke’s brows furrow, his eyes pleading with you as his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” You nod in response, not missing the way Luke’s face lights up, his body almost vibrating with excitement as a smile grows on your own face.

“Let’s go home.” Luke says, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering to life as you nod softly.

Quinn shoots up from his seat by the table, his laptop lighting up the almost dark room as the front door opens. “Luke?” He calls out - slowly making his way out of the dining room. Luke had left two days ago not being able to bear being left alone in the house any longer - the youngest brother infatuation with you stemming deeper then anyone had realised.

“Did you manage to talk to her? Is she okay?” Quinn calls out again, his frustration building as his younger brother ignores him.

Maybe she didn’t let him in?

Maybe he’s angry because she said she’s never coming back?

Quinn’s mind is running a million miles an hour as he steps into the entry way, his whole body freezing as he takes in the smaller then his brother’s figure in the hall, the suitcase by your side, your hair pulled back from your face as you shoot him a shy smile.

“Hi.”

Quinn stares at you, frozen in place as if you might vanish if he blinks too hard. His lips part slightly, but no words come out. Instead, his eyes flicker to the suitcase by your side, then back to you. It’s the longest few seconds of your life, his silence weighing heavily in the air between you.

“Hi,” you repeat softly, your voice tentative, uncertain. The sound seems to jolt Quinn out of his stupor. He steps forward, his brows knitting together, but not in anger. His expression is more cautious, concerned.

“You’re here?” he finally manages, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving. His eyes scan your face as if trying to convince himself that you’re real.

You nod, biting your lip. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

Quinn shakes his head slowly, his gaze softening. “I’m glad you did.” His voice is gentle, without any trace of the bitterness you had feared. He steps closer, his hands in his pockets. “We’ve been worried about you. All of us.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you look away. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just… I needed space. Everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Quinn nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. Sometimes things get too heavy, and you need to step back. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt—it did—but I understand why you felt you had to go.”

Your chest tightens with emotion. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Jack’s upstairs,” Quinn says, tilting his head toward the stairs. “He’s been… well, he hasn’t been handling things great. But he’s missed you. A lot.”

You nod, wiping a tear from your cheek. “I need to see him.”

Quinn offers a small, reassuring smile. “Go ahead. He needs this as much as you do.” Taking a deep breath, you pick up your suitcase and head toward the stairs. Each step feels heavier than the last, your heart pounding in your chest. Memories flood your mind—of laughter, of late-night conversations, of the bond you once shared with Jack. And of the way things shattered.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you pause outside Jack’s door. The familiar sight sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. You lift your hand to knock, but hesitate, your fingers trembling.

What if he doesn’t want to see me?

What if he slams the door in my face?

Summoning every ounce of courage you have, you knock softly.

For a long, agonising moment, there’s no response. Just when you’re about to turn away, the door creaks open.

Jack stands there, his hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. He looks tired, worn down, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice trembling. Jack’s eyes meet yours, and you see the storm of emotions swirling within them—anger, hurt, longing. But instead of lashing out, his expression softens almost immediately.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice rough from disuse. He steps aside, opening the door wider. “Ummm, do you want to come in?.” You nod as you step inside, your heart in your throat. The room feels suffocatingly familiar, the memories hanging in the air like ghosts. Jack closes the door behind you, leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come back to be honest,” he says quietly.

“I wasn’t sure if I would,” you admit, your hands fidgeting nervously. “But Luke told me what been happening.” Jack lets out a long breath, his body rigid as the two of your stare at each other from across the room, his arms crossing over his chest as he nods slowly.

“So you came because he told you to?” Jack assumes, his excitement dropping a little.

“No, I came because I wanted to — because I care about you, Jack and neither of us deserves to hurt.” You explain, hesitating before continuing, “But the things you said, and the way you treated me, it wasn’t okay Jack and I need you to understand that if we are going to put this behind us.”

Jack lets out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. “I know, and I’ve thought about it a lot and I know now that this things I said to you were because I was feeling a little rejected.” He says softly, letting out a small chuckle as he adds, “And we all know I don’t do well with rejection.”

You blink, surprised by his words. “Jack…” He shakes his head.

“No, let me say this. I messed up. I was angry, hurt, and I said things I shouldn’t have. I pushed you away when I should have been pulling you closer. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was hurt you. And my brothers…” He lets out a long breath, “I haven’t made things easy for them either and I’m sorry that I never took the time to explain everything before we got to this point.” He notes, his arms finally falling from in front of his chest, one hand raising to push his growing hair away from his face.

Tears well up in your eyes again, and you take a shaky step closer. “I hurt you too. I didn’t mean to, but I did. And I’m so sorry for that.” Jack smiles but takes a step away from you, your hands retreating back to your chest as you look at him in surprise.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, “I can’t.” Your teeth catches your lip as you nod, Jack letting out a groan as he watches your chin tremble.

“You and Luke are perfect for each other.” Jack says quickly, a sad smile on his face, “You know he got you a lego flower bouquet cause he knows you’d prefer that to real flowers, he’s also has that polaroid you two took on the boat in his wallet for like five years now.” Jack explains, rocking back and forth on his heels as he runs his fingers through his hair again. “It’s just killing me that, that couldn’t be us because it was never meant to be us.”

Tears spill freely down your cheeks now, your heart twisting painfully at Jack's words. You open your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing comes out. The weight of his confession hangs between you both, raw and unfiltered.

Jack's gaze drops to the floor as he continues, his voice quieter now, laced with a bittersweet nostalgia. "I thought if I held on tight enough, maybe I could make it work. But it’s like holding sand, you know? The harder you grip, the faster it slips through your fingers."

You take a deep breath, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands. "Jack... I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted any of this to happen."

He looks up, his eyes glassy but steady. "I know you didn’t. And I’m not mad anymore. It took me a while to get here, but I understand now. You weren’t mine to keep. You never were." His words are a punch to the gut, but there's no malice in them—only acceptance and quiet resignation. You step forward again, closing the distance between you, and this time Jack doesn’t move away.

You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing his arm. "You’ll always be important to me, Jack."

He nods, his lips pressing into a tight line to keep his emotions in check. "And you’ll always be important to me. I don’t regret loving you. I just regret holding on too long when I should’ve let go." The silence stretches between you, but it feels different now—softer, less suffocating. Finally, Jack breaks it with a shaky laugh.

"God, I sound like a bad country song, don’t I?"

A tearful chuckle escapes your lips, and you shake your head. "A little bit."

He grins, and for the first time, it feels real. "Maybe I should write one. Call it 'Wrong Time, Right Feelings' or something equally tragic." You laugh again, this time without tears, and Jack’s shoulders visibly relax. The tension in the room lifts ever so slightly, replaced by a shared understanding of what you both lost—and what you both still have.

Jack sighs, running a hand through his hair once more. "Luke’s downstairs, huh?"

“Probably,” you whisper. "He wanted to give us time to sort things out.”

Jack nods, his expression bittersweet. "Good. He deserves this. You both do." There’s a pause, and then Jack reaches out, pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding on just long enough to say goodbye without words. When he pulls back, there’s a glimmer of peace in his eyes.

"Take care of him," Jack says softly. "He never puts himself first, so I’m glad that he has someone who will.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding. "I will."

Jack steps back, hands on his hips as he offers you one last smile—sad, but genuine. "Go on, then. Don’t keep him waiting."

You turn to leave, your hand lingering on the doorknob for a moment. Before you open it, you glance back at Jack. "You’ll be okay, right?"

He tilts his head, a ghost of his playful smirk returning. "I’m a Hughes. We’re made of tough stuff." As you step out of the room and close the door behind you, you hear the soft click of the lock. Jack’s way of closing the chapter.

You make your way down the stairs, each step lighter than the last. The weight that had been pressing on your chest for so long feels like it’s finally lifting. When you reach the bottom, you see Quinn leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a cautious but hopeful expression.

Luke’s eyes flick between you and Quinn as you descend the stairs, your footsteps soft but purposeful. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders tense with nervous energy. You can see it in the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other—he’s bracing himself for something, though you’re not quite sure what.

Quinn leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, his expression carefully neutral. But there’s a knowing look in his eyes, like he’s already accepted whatever is about to happen. As you reach the bottom step, your gaze locks with Luke’s, and for a moment, the rest of the room fades away. It’s just the two of you—it always has been.

“How’d it go?” Quinn’s voice breaks the silence, his tone gentle, understanding. He’s giving you an out, a chance to speak first, but you don’t miss the way Luke stiffens at the sound of his brother’s voice.

“We’re okay,” you say softly, your words directed at Quinn, though your eyes never leave Luke. “Jack and I… we said what needed to be said.”

Quinn nods, offering a small, encouraging smile before stepping away from the wall. “Good. That’s good.” He glances at Luke, then back at you, his smile turning a little wry. “I’ll give you two some space.”

As Quinn walks away, heading toward the kitchen, Luke finally moves. He takes a hesitant step forward, his hands still buried in his pockets, his gaze flickering between the empty hallway where Quinn disappeared and your face.

“You don’t have to stay,” he blurts out suddenly, his voice tight with emotion. “If you… if you want to go after him, I get it.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

Luke swallows hard, his jaw clenching as he looks down at the floor. “Quinn,” he says quietly. “I saw the way he looked at you when you came down. I… I know he’s always been there for you. He’s steady, reliable. He’s Quinn.”

A pang of sadness twists in your chest as you watch him, this boy who’s always been so sure of himself suddenly unsure and vulnerable. You step closer, but he doesn’t look up.

“Luke…”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, cutting you off. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie and say it wouldn’t hurt, but… I’d get it. He’s… he’s Quinn. And me?” He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I’m the guy who’s always a little too much. Too loud, too impulsive, too everything.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. “Luke, stop.”

He finally looks up, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t know how to be enough for you,” he whispers. “I’ve been trying for so long, but I keep thinking I’m just… not him. Not the guy you’d pick in the end.”

You step closer, your hands trembling slightly as you reach for his. He hesitates for a moment before letting you take them, his fingers curling around yours almost instinctively.

“You’ve always been enough,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the emotion bubbling beneath the surface. “It’s not about Quinn, or Jack, or anyone else. It’s about you. It’s always been about you.”

His grip tightens, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “But what if I mess it up? What if I’m not what you need?”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Luke. I don’t want perfect. I want you.”

He stares at you, searching your face for any sign of doubt. When he finds none, a shaky breath escapes him, his shoulders sagging with relief. “I was so sure you’d pick him,” he murmurs. “I thought I was about to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me,” you whisper, squeezing his hands. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Luke lets out a quiet, broken laugh, the sound filled with equal parts disbelief and joy. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

“No,” you say gently, reaching up to brush a tear from his cheek. “You’ve been scared. So have I. But we’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as if grounding himself in the feel of your hand against his skin. When he opens them again, there’s a flicker of hope there, tentative but real.

“You mean it?” he asks quietly. “You’re staying?”

“I’m staying,” you confirm. “And we’ll figure it out together. No more second-guessing, no more running.”

Luke exhales a long breath, his lips curving into a small, grateful smile. “Okay. Together.”

“Together,” you repeat, your voice firm.

Quinn’s voice drifts from the kitchen. “Are you two done being gross, or should I stay in here forever?”

You both laugh, the sound light and carefree. Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you turn toward the kitchen.

“Also I heard something about a lego set.” You murmur, Luke letting out a bark of laughter as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You can have any lego sets that you want.”

As you walk together toward the future—hand in hand, hearts finally in sync—you know that this is where you’re meant to be.

With Luke.

Always with Luke.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #quinn hughes smut #jack hughes smut #mtbbw #quinn hughes fanfic #luke hughes fanfic #jack hughes fanfic

200 notes · View notes

softtdaisy · 19 hours ago

Text

you'll be fine / Spencer Reid

summary. you don't like to hear about the case. but when your boyfriend gets hurt, you realize you can't escape the reality of his work

words count. 2 283

what to expect. very angsty, reader is hotch sister, jack is here, brief mention of haley's death, did i say angst? but spencer being soft and lovely (as usual)

a/n. i'm finally back with writing for my baby Spence. and yes reader is hotch's sister for some reasons that i can't explain except that i like this man

F1 masterlist | general masterlist

The deal was simple: you didn’t want to hear about any cases except if Aaron or Spencer were in danger.

Aaron respected it easily. He needed these moments where he put the work away and thought about something else. Plus, he didn’t want to burden his little sister with the cases. To him, he did enough harm to his family. He didn’t want to put you in danger or drown you in the atrocity of the world he was living in.

So anytime he got to see you, for a coffee, a diner, or ten minutes when you gave him Jack back after the babysitting, he made sure to never tell you about the case.

Spencer, on the contrary, had some difficulties keeping everything to himself. You knew your boyfriend so well, you could tell when he needed to speak. There was something cute in the way he tried so hard to keep his mouth shut because he knew you didn’t want to hear about the last cases. He was playing with his hands to focus his mind on something else, starting sentences but never finishing them. Maybe you liked torturing him a little.

But these moments always ended up the same way.

“Go ahead, my love,” you said, cupping his face in your hand and giving the sweetest kiss on his nose. You loved how he wrinkled his nose and how his cheeks were turning a sweet shade of red. “Tell me about the case.”

And as soon as you said these five wonderful words, he let his mind speak for minutes. Or hours. It depended on how long he was away or how hard the case was for him.

Today was what you called a normal day.

The team wasn’t away for a case. Aaron would come and pick up Jack at your place in a few minutes. You loved spending these Wednesday afternoons with your nephew. None of you had classes. Well, one of you had homework, and it was clearly not the blonde head laying on your couch. But your typical evening was to do them once Jack had left with his dad and while Spencer was cooking dinner.

But you could tell something was wrong when 7 p.m. struck and you still had no news from Aaron. He would always send you a text, either to tell you he left the office or he would be late. He was a punctual man.

“Auntie, Dad’s calling!” you heard Jack scream from the living room. You were stuck in the kitchen, cleaning the baking pan you used for his chocolate cake. So you let Jack answer the call. For the few seconds it lasted, you appreciated his sweet and happy voice he always had when talking to Aaron.

But before you noticed the silence, he was by your side. “Dad wants to talk to you,” he said with a frown. Clearly not happy to not be the center of interest.

“Put him on speaker, Jack, please,” you asked and were immediately faced with another silence. One you didn’t like. You could hear the background where Aaron was, but your brother’s voice.

“Hi, big brother,” you said with a laugh. “Want to talk to your favorite family member?” which, of course, made Jack pout. “After your wonderful son, of course.”

But then again, silence. For three, five, or ten seconds. “Could you please take the phone? I need to talk to you privately,” was all you got. No hello, no laugh, nothing. Just a cold and serious Aaron. And you hated that.

You quickly wiped your hands, kissed Jack on the hair, and told him to watch another episode of his TV show before going to your room. “Where are you? Are you ok?” you asked the second you closed your bedroom’s door.

“I’m good,” was all he replied. You sighed with relief. You didn’t have the heart to tell Jack his father was in the hospital or worse. This kid had lived through too many tragedies already. But then it hit you.

If Aaron was fine, it meant that he called you for another reason.

For another person.

“Spence?” you simply said in a low voice. Ironically, you spoke more quietly than when you asked for Aaron. When it would have been worse for Jack to hear about his dad. But it was like your heart couldn’t handle the idea of your boyfriend being hurt. Like, maybe, talking quietly would make the reality disappear.

Aaron knew how to deal with words. You’ve always been impressed by how he managed to do the perfect sentences to make his speech memorable. So his silence was frightening. “Aaron, please,” you begged him.

“He’s at the hospital.” At least your bed was close enough so you didn’t fall on the floor. “Jessica is coming to take Jack with her so you can come.”

“What happened?” You heard yourself cry. But Aaron never answered your question. He gave you the hospital address.

And you were left wondering if you still had a boyfriend anymore.

Everything you did until you got to the hospital felt unconscious. You couldn’t remember what you told Jack, if you took the time to kiss your nephew goodbye, if he saw you crying, or if you hid it. Nothing felt real.

Until you saw the team waiting in the hospital hall. Then you knew things were serious. You noticed the red eyes, the tiredness, the stress on all their faces. On your brother too, even if he did everything to stay strong and stoic.

When Aaron saw you, he stopped his conversation immediately and walked fast to hug you. You lost yourself in his arms, crying harder than you did at home and even more when he hugged you more and more tightly. Back when you were a child, Aaron was always the one comforting you. After a nightmare, a bad day at school or at home, even when he was away for college. He was your emergency contact, something that never changed. He was your emergency person.

Yet, something felt off this time.

“What happened?” you asked again, looking up at him. And you were right about something being off. You barely ever see guilt on your brother’s face. You did after Haley. It was the only time you saw him feel bad about something. And seeing it today wasn’t a reassuring thing.

“The unsub caught us off guard and tried to escape. It could have been anybody, but he shot Rei… Spencer two times in the arms, near his shoulder. No organs were touched, but he lost a lot of blood before he could be taken care of. He passed out at the crime scene. He’s still in surgery right now.”

Every word he spoke was like a stab going deeper and deeper in your heart.

You didn’t realize you were screaming until Aaron muffled it against his chest and held you even more tightly against you. Knowing damn well that if he stopped, you would fall on the ground and not get up.

You couldn’t imagine a world in which Spencer Reid wasn’t a main part of.

He was your soulmate; you knew that from the moment you met him.

You had just come back home after a year abroad, and Aaron had organized a dinner at his place with the team to celebrate it. He wanted you to meet his other family, the one he was sadly closer to than yours. But you didn’t mind, as long as your brother was happy and well looked after. And you were curious to meet all these people he talked about on the phone.

Honestly, you kind of fell for every single one of them.

But you fell harder for the genius in the back. The one that acted shyly around you until you showed interest in what he was saying. You quickly realized you could get used to listening to Spencer talking and falling asleep to his voice. And you did.

There were still so many things Spencer had to tell you about; he couldn’t leave you already.

The hours waiting for him were the longest you ever lived. The surgery went well; Spencer would be fine. But you needed to hear him wake up and see him to be sure they were telling the truth.

The team left one by one, at your own request. Sure, JJ needed to see her kids. Emily and Derek were drained from the day and the stress. Only Aaron stayed with you. He called Jack two times in the evening, one to check on him and one to say goodbye. But he refused to leave his little sister alone.

It was almost midnight when your boyfriend finally opened his eyes.

Aaron let you go. He was just waiting with you, to not leave you alone. He simply asked you to give him some news and to call if you ever want to sleep at home.

But you noticed how he showed his FBI sign to the hospital staff to make sure you would be able to sleep here with Spencer.

He looked so fragile in his hospital bed. With his skin paler than ever, his tired eyes barely open and his greasy hair flattened. You even wondered if you should be there or if you should let him rest in peace. Because you knew that Spencer would do anything to reassure you, even if it was tiring him.

Then he looked up to see you.

And the relief in his eyes was the best argument to stay.

“You’re here,” he said with a hoarse and lazy voice that almost made you cry. Because it didn’t sound like your Spencer. But your Spencer was alive. You walked slowly to him and grabbed the hand that he was offering.

“I’m the one who should say that.” Once sat, you put your head on his stomach slowly to make sure you didn’t hurt him. Spencer didn’t show any sign of hurt or discomfort.

But in all honesty, even if he was, he would never. Spencer grew soft to your contact. He was craving it when he was away. You were the only person that could hold him without warning him. It was natural. Like his body has only been created to be held in your arms. To be touched by your hands. To be loved by you.

“Do you know the statistics of getting shot two times at the same place?” he asked, brushing your hair softly. You looked up with a confused face. And faced his amused expression. “I'm being serious.”

He then started to give you many numbers and statistics around these facts. Which you didn’t even want to hear about. You almost lost him to this. It wasn’t a very pleasant subject.

But seeing the sparks in his eyes when he said these facts, proving he was still the very same genius that left your apartment this morning to go to work, was refreshing. He almost never came home. But he will. And you could let him say and talk for hours if it means having him by your side forever.

“So it’s pretty rare,” he finished, proudly.

You noticed how he could barely keep his eyes open. You took the hand that was in your hair and gave it a little kiss. “Could you consider staying rare by just being the amazing person you are and not playing with death, please?”

He laughed, his giggle causing a little quake on your resting head. “Yeah, I could consider that.”

Spencer then moved a little, enough for you to lay by his side. You couldn’t stay like that all night. But if it helped him fall asleep, you could sacrifice your comfort for a few minutes. Even hours, if he needed it.

You were a little higher on the bed so he could be the one resting on you this time, and you would be the one playing with his hair.

“How was your day with Jack, by the way?”

And you started to tell him, like it was a normal day.

Spencer was always the one to fall asleep last. You created this routine of him telling you about his day, a case, or just something he read or saw, in bed while you were falling asleep in his arms.

This time, Spencer was the one falling asleep to your story.

And selfishly, you hoped it would be the only time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #Matthew Gray Gubler #Matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #Matthew gray gubler x you #Matthew gray gubler x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds story #msg #mgg x reader #my writing

89 notes · View notes

gilverrwrites · 1 day ago

Note

for the continuation of tim's revenge for what pervy dick did 👀

did he manage to get revenge

AN: God they're messy. Warnings: Manipulation, voyeurism but not really, dubious consent, (barely) rough sex. ━ [Part 1] ━ [Part 2] ━ Bonus parts: [X] [X]

He stews on the situation for a while. He’s not mad at you for sleeping with someone else, you’re not an item after all. He’s also not really mad at you for sleeping with his brother, of all people. He also isn’t even really mad that you hid it from him even though he has every right to be pissed.

But there’s still something boiling deep in his psyche, making him bitter and keeping him on edge. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Never in a million years would he admit it, but he's He’s hyper-aware now and scathing every time you grin at your phone, or when Dick's hand linger on your curves just a second too long to be considered friendly. You’re too tied up in each other to notice Tim’s eyes burning into your souls.

You're oblivious to his glare when Dick whispers in your ear, as you let his older brother guide you out into the hall, and he’d bet you're clueless to the way Dick holds back just long enough to look back at him, blue eyes filled with an irking level of smug triumph, before following close behind you.

He knows he’s only torturing himself by trailing the two of you, but it beats sitting around trying not to imagine whatever’s going on.

He doesn’t want to look, so he presses his ear to the door just in time to hear you quietly lament “I don’t know, Dick. Are you sure?”

Dick's voice is so low and soothing that its barely audible but Tim clocks it clear as day, the use of his name. “Yes baby, I told you to trust me, didn’t I? Tim will love this, once you’ve learned how to take it right.”

The thought that he’d been wrong, that Dick was actually teaching you something sweet and totally innocent to surprise him crosses his mind, and for a second he feels bad for assuming the worst but moments later the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin and the echo of your muffled voices moaning each other's names quickly puts an end to that line of thought.

Finally, he’s angry. He has half a mind to boot the door in and put a stop to whatever manipulation Dick is pulling on you, but he knows things will get ugly fast.

The question of what ‘this’ is that he’ll love so much also dangles in the back of his mind, but there’s no way in hell he’s opening that door for a peek, this isn’t how he wants to see you undressed for the first time and if he catches a glimpse of anything Dick has going on he might have to put bat-bleach in his eyes.

No, he doesn’t open the door, but he decides then and there to close the deal the next time he has you to himself.

He’s not sure how he’ll react if you reject him, but fortunately, neither of you has to find out. After all this time, all the wondering, all the nerves, he’s surprised by how easy it is to get close to you. It’s like magic; once he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, pressing his lips to yours, you just melt right into him like you were always meant to be there, melded to each other.

Your kisses are hungry, and urgent but you touch him so tentatively, and you hesitate when his hands snake under your shirt for the first time. He breaks away from kissing your throat to look into your guilt-glazed eyes. Whatever moral debate is going on in your head is long forgotten however when he starts grinding his cock against you.

The sex is total bliss, you’re everything he’d dreamed of and more; tits shaking in time with his thrusts, pussy hot and wet, taking it so damn well, and your eyes, half-lidded but glued to his every move. So totally perfect, everything he’d been envisioning. He’d completely lost sight of everything else until he catches your expression shift.

You speak so quietly, so unsure, looking up at him with hopeful eyes as you tell him something that he doesn’t quite catch between your softness and his euphoria.

“What?”

“I said you can be rough with me. If you want.”

It takes a second for your words, their implication to click inside his brain but then he remembers.

Before you can object he grabs your wrists, deliberately hard enough to bruise, pinning them to the bed as he pressed his chest against yours, stopping his thrust once he's buried balls deep inside you. He ignores how you whine at the pain in your arms, how you desperately buck your hips to try and coax him into fucking you again.

“If I want?”

You nod frantically, without hesitation. “Anything you want.”

The bawdy look on your face quickly fades to confusion, body falling completely still as he starts to laugh at you. Man, what he would have given to hear you say those words just weeks ago.

“Did Dick tell you I like it rough?” He asks, and your eyes grow wide and panicked. “What else did he tell you I was into?”

“Tim- I- Wait- It-” You choke on your words when he starts pumping in and out of you again, so slowly it's agonizing for the both of you, but he's sure his resolve will last far longer than yours.

The muscles in your arms grow taut but you’re not strong enough to push off his weight. He stays excruciatingly close, watching every twitch and breath and moan as you try and fail to get a grasp on yourself.

“C’mon tell me.” He goads. “Tell me everything Dick taught you so I can put you to the test. I want to try all of it.” Not only that, but he’s gonna do it all ten times better than Dick ever could, and if the way your cunt clenches around his cock at the seer notion is any indication, you’re gonna enjoy every second of it.

#and dick said Tim would never ever want to fuck you once he'd found out you'd been fucking his bro #anon #gilverrrambles #tim drake/reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin x reader #red robin #red robin/reader #nsft #tw manipulation

77 notes · View notes

heretherebedork · 3 days ago

Text

Fire and Water in The Heart Killer ep 7

Because there's so much of both of them.

The fire of Bison's birthday, two candles, two moments with men who do love even if things are going sideways right now. The tiniest flames that signify another year in his life, another change, the moment you get to make a wish and you hope it happens. Kant asks Bison to make a wish but Fadel just tells him they should finish what they started that same night, stop stretching it out.

Kant still wants to believe they can dream together.

Fadel is ready for this dream of Bison's to be over.'

But also the flames are tiny. They are candles, nothing more, barely lighting the darkness, barely touching the blackness that has come over them and that is the candle that always gets blown out, the fire returning them to darkness each time.

But this? This fire? The betrayal fire? The moment that Fadel found out that not only was Style a snitch but that Bison had supported him faking their relationship and pursuing him despite knowing it was a lie? That is a fire that is huge but still doesn't touch the darkness. That is a fire built to destroy memories and built to destroy that first moment that Bison felt like he was in love but it also showed the fire that screams inside Fadel as he realizes that all the trust he gave was never real.

From the tiny birthday flames that mean wishes to the burning trash can of betrayal, the melting trophy inside. The birthday candles were meant to share bonds but this fire breaks them, set between Fadel and Bison and filled with the symbols of Kant's lies to Bison.

And then water.

Or the lack of water, in this case. An empty swimming pool. No way to put out the fire, no way to cool off, the only danger present truly being Fadel and his gun. This is not a personal places to either of them, this is not something specific, this is just a place (to our knowledge, at least). There's no deep emotional connection here. It's just a place no one can hear Style yell from because that's all Fadel needed it to be.

Fadel is betrayed on all sides and his first idea is isolation but he's also quick to take Style up on his offer to help find his brother. It's Fadel who first tells Style in the hospital that everything has changed.

(Fadel let love fill him and now he is empty and he has nothing left, no protections for himself. He told Style they still had business and that this was over and basically warned him and he still slept next to him afterwards in the car. Fadel wants so badly to be able to trust and love but everything feels empty, no water in the pool and no memories in the fire for him, just choking smoke and emptiness.)

Bison takes Kant to a very personal and very wet place. He places him on a boat in the ocean and he holds his gun but he is not the real threat, Bison is never the reason Kant is truly scared in this position.

And that's so reflective of them. Even the birthday candle is not the only light for them, the room is warmly lit all around them because the biggest danger is never Bison, the biggest danger comes from the world around them and where they put themselves.

Bison is holding a gun to Kant but Kant is more afraid of the ocean than he is of Bison (and, frankly, with good reason for all that Bison dreams of killing him) while Fadel brings Style to a place where he was nothing to be afraid of but him.

The episode starts with fire and ends with water (or the lack of water) and next week is about more water and more love and four men trying to come to terms with lies and truths and love and hatred and betrayal and what it means to recover from heartbreak with the same person who broke your heart.

63 notes · View notes

hexedwinchester · 3 days ago

Text

Supernatural S05E11 Sam, Interrupted

Huh! You know that starting scene where Dean tries to get Sam admitted to the psychiatrist facility and instead of lying they tell the truth about the apocalypse? So not only Dean didn't say that the apocalypse was his fault too, he straight up exposed Sam's demon blood drinking habit to a stranger?? Just a few episodes ago a couple of hunters tried to force feed Sam demon blood and here is big brother Dean broadcasting it to a doctor??

when we talk about Sam's loss of bodily autonomy, how come no one mentions the gropey examination of the nurse/wraith?

Doesn't Sam just look extra delicious in this episode?! I don't know if it's the setting or the hair or the minimal layer or that white t shirt but oh my damn I wanna dip him in chocolate and eat him up

Not surprised Dean's shrink is a hot doctor

Sam, honey, no! We don't poke swabs into holes found on dead bodies or cut open their skull 💀

Pudding! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Wendy wanting Sam for all right reasons! Right there with ya, sis! (Although, that's twice Sam got assaulted, so there's that)

I love Sam's rage arc in this episode. Now for most of the show we have seen Dean being the one with anger issues but I found Sam's rage quite interesting. The whole mental asylum effect aside, but Sam's rage is more self destructive in nature unlike Dean where Sam ends up being his punching bag. All the wrong decisions he made affected him more than anyone else: like drinking demon blood for example

Loopy Sam is so cute! Like a toasty marshmallow!! Speaking of loopy Sam, i always felt Sam telling Dean it's okay and he still loves him felt kinda out of place until I saw this scene twice. Just before Sam says that Dean tells him that he made a mistake and he'll handle it. That got me thinking, anytime Sam screwed up Dean wouldn't let him hear the end of it. So Sam is basically just trying to treat him in a way he probably would have wanted to be treated..

Anyone remember that post I made about Jared using different voices for his character?? It's very evident when you see the loopy Sam scene. It's not Sam's voice he is talking in, it's more Jared, loud, chirpy, rough around the edges

Boop! And that cute chuckle that follows it 🥰

So Sam and Rowena both have booped Dean. How come no one ever booped Sam?! Sucha cute boopable nose he has got

That conversation between Sam and the doctor is so tragic, i absolutely love it. It's so sad that everyone points out that Sam is not human, he's a freak and it's even worse when Sam admits to it. I hate it so much that I love it!

What's also interesting is that right after the doc points out that Sam is barely human, his brain sort of holds onto that thought and then when he hallucinates everyone is calling him a freak and blaming it all on him. Kinda like the wraith's effect amped it up

His "leave me alones" are so tragic. Oh Sam!

Y'all don't underStand just how important Sam Winchester locked up in a padded cell is to me. I need multiple fics written on that theme. Somebody write it!!!

what will it take for someone to get a bigger bad for this man?! 😭 If it wasn't for the bent knees his footsies would hang off

Dean being squeamish about the wraith's -stinger is it?- Will never be not funny

It's so freaking sad that everyone gaslights Sam into believing that the problem is him. He is inherently bad. Oh Sam!

Dean, sweetie, I know you mean well but please keep your advice to yourself. Shoving or burying down that crap is not best way to cope

Where is the "I want him now, he's larger" gif when you need it?!

#sam winchester #dean winchester #Supernatural #Spn #S05E11 #Sam interrupted #Sam girl #I love this episode

41 notes · View notes

obeymeshallwedateaddict · 2 days ago

Text

Hello everyone!! This is the first lesson of the long awaited unofficial season 4 of Obey me Nightbringer written by yours truly <3

I will post lessons every 10 days.

I hope you enjoy it (it came out a little long but I hope it's not a problem)

Please make sure this finds other obey me lovers and people who don't want the series to end.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

@arie2faced wanted to be tagged so there you go!

Lesson 61: “Echoes of Change”

Preparations for the Grand Gala

The story begins with you and the brothers preparing for a grand event in the Devildom—the Infernal Gala, a highly anticipated celebration hosted by Diavolo to showcase unity and strength among the three realms. The brothers are busy with their individual tasks, and you help them throughout the day, making sure none of them are slacking off and checking the quality of their work.

Morning with Mammon

You find Mammon frantically trying to pick an outfit in his room, clothes scattered everywhere. He groans as he holds up a jacket, glaring at it like it personally offended him.

Mammon: “This stupid thing doesn’t fit right! What if I don’t look good enough? Diavolo’ll never let me hear the end of it!”

You: “You’re overthinking it, Mammon. You look great in anything.”

You pick up a sleek black jacket with gold trim from the pile and hold it up to him.

You: “Here, try this one. It suits you.”

Mammon grumbles but puts it on. When he turns to the mirror, his expression softens.

Mammon: “Huh. Guess it ain’t too bad… But y’know, it’s only ‘cause you picked it. You’ve got good taste.”

He pauses, scratching the back of his neck as he glances at you.

Mammon: “I dunno what I’d do without ya. Don’t tell the others, but… you’re my good luck charm, so stick close, alright?”

Afternoon with Leviathan

Levi is in his room, staring nervously at a stack of invitation cards. You peek in and see him pacing.

You: “Levi, what’s wrong?”

Leviathan: “It’s the Gala! There’s gonna be so many people there. What if I mess up? What if someone tries to talk to me and I freeze up?!”

You gently take his hands, grounding him.

You: “You’ll do great, Levi. And I’ll be there if you need me. We’re a team, remember?”

Levi calms down a little, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

Leviathan: “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, with you around, I don’t have to worry as much. You’re like my Player Two in this crazy multiplayer game called life.”

He hesitates, then smiles shyly.

Leviathan: “Thanks. I mean it. You’re, like… my favorite rare find.”

Library with Satan

Satan is in the library, scanning a shelf filled with ancient tomes. He looks up when you enter, a small smile playing on his lips.

Satan: “Perfect timing. I was looking for this.”

He hands you a book bound in emerald green, the title in golden script: "The Legends of the Infernal Gala."

Satan: “I thought you might like to know more about the Gala’s history. It’s fascinating, really—did you know it started as a peace treaty celebration?”

You sit together, flipping through the pages. At one point, your fingers brush, and Satan pauses.

Satan: “You always surprise me. You’re curious, thoughtful, and unafraid to stand by us—even when things get complicated.”

He leans closer, his voice softer.

Satan: “I hope you know how much that means to me."

Dressing Room with Asmodeus

Asmo is in his room, surrounded by a dizzying array of outfits. He twirls in front of the mirror, striking a pose.

Asmodeus: “Tell me, which one screams ‘absolutely irresistible’? This one, or…”

He switches to another outfit, beaming at you.

You: “They’re both amazing, Asmo. You always look stunning.”

Asmodeus: (grinning) “Oh, you always know just what to say. But you know what? I think I’ll wear something that complements you. After all, we’ll be the center of attention together.”

He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Asmodeus: “You have this way of making me feel… special. Like I don’t need to try so hard, because I’m enough just as I am. Thank you for that."

Kitchen with Beelzebub

Beel is in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the event. You help him arrange platters of food, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air.

Beelzebub: “Thanks for helping. I usually just eat everything, but it feels nice to make something for others.”

As you finish, Beel offers you a piece of chocolate from the tray, his expression soft.

Beelzebub: “You’re always looking out for us. It makes me want to do the same for you.”

He smiles, his usual straightforward honesty shining through.

Beelzebub: “You’re like family to me… but also more than that. I’m glad you’re here.”

Attic with Belphegor

Belphie is lying on a pile of blankets in the attic, staring at the ceiling. You join him, and he shifts to make room.

Belphegor: “The Gala’s gonna be exhausting. Too many people, too much noise. But at least you’ll be there.”

He closes his eyes, his voice soft.

Belphegor: “You’re the only one who makes all this bearable, you know. Stay with me a while. Just you and me, away from everything else.”

You rest beside him, and for a moment, the world feels quiet.

Study with Lucifer

Lucifer is in his study, reviewing event schedules and security measures. He looks up as you enter, his expression softening.

Lucifer: “Ah, I was just going over the final details. It’s a relief to see you—you have a calming effect, even on someone like me.”

You share a quiet moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the silence. Lucifer pours you a glass of Demonus, his movements elegant.

Lucifer: “The Infernal Gala represents unity, strength, and peace. But for me… it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come.”

He gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth.

Lucifer: “You’ve been a part of that journey. More than you realize.”

The calm shatteres

The next morning, you are in the gardens of the House of Lamentation, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sky is a deep, rich purple, with faint stars twinkling above. Beelzebub joins you, carrying a tray of snacks.

Beelzebub: “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”

You: (smiling softly) “Not really. Just thinking about how calm everything feels right now. It’s… nice.”

Beelzebub: (sitting beside you) “Yeah. Feels like it’s been a while since things were this peaceful. Lucifer hasn’t yelled at anyone today, and Mammon hasn’t set anything on fire… yet.”

You both share a laugh, but before the moment can last, a faint tremor shakes the ground. Beel jumps to his feet.

Beelzebub: “What was that?”

A ripple of energy passes through the garden, and several flowers wilt instantly. The air feels charged, heavy. You feel a faint pulse from your pact mark, though you don’t fully understand it yet.

You and Beel rush inside the House of Lamentation, where chaos has already begun. Furniture is floating, magical items are malfunctioning, and the brothers are in disarray.

Mammon: (running around) “Somebody fix this! My wallet turned into a bat and flew off! That’s my life savings in there!”

Leviathan: (clutching his D.D.D.) “Do you know how many hours of gameplay I just lost?! This is worse than the Great Reset of Akuzon Prime!”

Lucifer: (trying to remain composed) “Everyone, calm down. Panicking will accomplish nothing.”

Belphegor: (yawning) “Wake me when this is over. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”

You notice your pact mark faintly glowing whenever the chaos intensifies. Asmodeus steps in, looking alarmed.

Asmodeus: “Is it just me, or does the energy in the house feel… weird? It’s like something’s out of sync.”

Before anyone can respond, the chandelier shatters with a loud crash. Lucifer’s patience snaps.

Lucifer: “Enough! Everyone, to the Demon Lord’s Castle—now. Diavolo needs to hear about this immediately.”

Emergency Meeting with Diavolo

The group arrives at the Demon Lord’s Castle. Diavolo greets you all with a worried expression, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a more serious air. Barbatos stands quietly by his side, his gaze sharp and observant.

Diavolo: “Ah, you’ve arrived. I trust you’ve noticed the disturbances, then?”

Lucifer: “Noticed is an understatement. The House of Lamentation is in complete disarray. What’s causing this?”

Diavolo’s expression tightens, and he motions for you all to take a seat.

Diavolo: “It’s more than just your house, Lucifer. The magical ley lines that run through the Devildom are experiencing unusual fluctuations. Spells are failing, spells are overloading… and the environment itself is becoming unstable.”

Diavolo remains silent for a short while before speaking again.

Diavolo: "Remember when a few months ago the Devildom moon begun moving closer to us? And how MC stopped it with the help of (name of the brother you chose in lesson 60)? I think it might be somehow related to all this.

Barbatos: (nodding gravely) “We’ve been monitoring the situation for the past few weeks, but the source remains elusive. The ley lines should remain stable, but we are seeing powerful surges in energy that we cannot explain.”

Simeon: (calmly interjecting) “It’s a troubling situation, indeed. I’ve been sensing something off as well, but I can’t make sense of it.”

Solomon: (looking up from his scrolls) “The balance between the realms is delicate. It’s entirely possible this disturbance has something to do with the convergence of magical energies—perhaps even beyond our realm’s control.”

Luke: (clutching his little angel staff nervously) “So... we’re all in danger?”

Mephistopheles: (snickering from the corner) “Well, that depends on what you call ‘danger.’ There’s always a way to spin these things to our favor, you know.”

Raphael: (stoically) “We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. If there’s a threat, we’ll need to handle it swiftly, for the sake of everyone’s safety.”

Thirteen: (suddenly appearing with a slight chuckle) “It’s always so serious when you guys talk like this. How about we enjoy the chaos a little bit?”

The group’s attention is drawn back to Diavolo, who remains focused despite the tension.

Diavolo: “We’ve heard your concerns. But I must ask, how does this all relate to the Infernal Gala? If these disturbances continue, it could be catastrophic.”

Lucifer: “The Gala is already under heavy scrutiny. If the realm’s stability is at risk, Diavolo, this could be a catastrophic blow to the reputation of the Devildom.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, I can’t imagine the disaster. The Gala’s atmosphere would be ruined if the magical energies continue to fluctuate like this. People will notice, and chaos would break out if they suspect anything is wrong.”

Beelzebub: (his voice low and serious) “If things continue like this, there’s a real danger of even the food and drinks being affected. Imagine the mess if everything starts malfunctioning at the event.”

Lucifer: “Exactly. And with all the high-profile guests we’re expecting… We must act swiftly.”

Diavolo stands up, his usual warmth replaced by a rare intensity.

Diavolo: “For now, I ask all of you to stay vigilant. If you notice anything unusual—anything at all—report it immediately. The Gala must go off without a hitch, for the sake of maintaining peace and stability. But we must also prepare for the possibility that something more sinister is at play.”

Barbatos: (calmly) “We will continue investigating, but please, if you feel anything strange—if there’s any oddity you experience—don’t hesitate to tell us. The more information we have, the better.”

Lucifer: (looking directly at you) “You, especially. I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. These disturbances seem… connected to you.”

The room falls silent again as all eyes shift toward you. You feel a weight settling on your shoulders, the pressure building.

Diavolo: (smiling reassuringly) “You’ve done well so far. But now, we must prepare for whatever comes next. The Gala is crucial, but our first priority must be understanding the root cause of these events. If there’s a connection between you and this instability… we’ll need to address it quickly.”

As you nod in response, a sense of foreboding fills the air. The once-bustling preparations for the Gala seem like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the disruptions.

A talk with Solomon

After the emergency meeting, you wander through the halls of the House of Lamentation, the weight of the situation pressing on you. The magical disturbances, the instability in the Devildom... you feel like you're on the edge of something bigger, but you can't quite grasp it.

A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

Solomon: "You're still awake, huh? I figured you might be here."

You turn and see Solomon leaning against the doorframe, his usual playful expression replaced by one of concern. He steps into the hallway, his gaze never leaving you.

You: “I don’t understand any of this… It feels like everything’s connected, but I don’t know how or why.”

Solomon walks up to you, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He looks at you with a knowing look, as though he’s been waiting for this conversation.

Solomon: “I can see why you’re confused. The fluctuations... the disruptions in the ley lines, they’re not random. They’re a result of your presence here.”

You: (frowning) “My presence?”

Solomon: (nodding) “It’s complicated. There’s something about your connection to the brothers, your dual pacts, that’s causing the instability. It’s as if the power between you and them is... too much for the realms to handle.”

You feel a jolt of realization. The dual pacts. You hadn’t thought about the significance of them, but it makes sense now. Solomon's words seem to echo in your mind, each one a small revelation.

You: “So... you think the dual pacts are the reason this is happening?”

Solomon hesitates for a moment, then nods, his eyes serious.

Solomon: “I’m beginning to suspect that’s the case. The way your power interacts with theirs... it’s creating more energy than the ley lines can accommodate. It’s like a pressure building up, and when too much energy is focused in one place, the balance of the realms starts to break down.”

You swallow, trying to process it all. Your mind races through everything you’ve experienced—the strange pull of the pact mark, the disruptions, the growing tension. It all leads back to the pacts.

You: “But why now? Why is this only happening now?”

Solomon: (with a sigh) “It didn't start now. Actually it's been going on for a while now. Remember how the moon was getting progressively closer and closer a few months ago? I suspect that's also due to your magic. But for all I know the dual pacts were never meant to be this powerful. They’re an anomaly.”

You: “So, everything that’s happening... it’s my fault?”

Solomon: (softly) “Not your fault. But your presence, your bond with the brothers—it’s a key factor. I should’ve been more cautious. I knew the pacts were risky, but I didn’t expect something like this would happen.”

You feel your heart race as you try to understand the magnitude of what Solomon is telling you. The chaos, the disruptions... you feel like you’re at the center of it all, and it’s terrifying.

You: “How do we fix this?”

Solomon takes a step closer, his gaze softening. His hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you feel a comforting warmth from his touch.

Solomon: “We’ll figure it out. Together. The brothers... they’re linked to this too, and we’ll need their help. But we can’t do it alone. The dual pacts are too unpredictable.”

For a moment, you both stand in silence, the weight of his words settling in. The chaos, the stakes... it feels like everything is changing too fast. Yet, with Solomon’s presence, there’s a sense of calm. You find comfort in his understanding.

You: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Solomon smiles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter, though he doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close, offering a silent promise.

Solomon: “You’ll never have to find out.”

You lean into his chest, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, and for the briefest moment, the world outside feels a little more bearable.

Solomon: “We’ll fix this. We’ll make sure the Gala goes off without a hitch, and we’ll find the cause of all this. But until then... just know that I’m here.”

You look up at him, your voice quiet but firm.

You: “Thank you, Solomon. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’m... not alone in this anymore.”

Solomon’s smile deepens, and he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

Solomon: “You’re never alone, MC. Not with me by your side.”

The Pact’s Secret Emerges

Later that evening, while the brothers are asleep, you are drawn to the library by an inexplicable force. You find an old book glowing faintly on the shelf and open it. The pages are filled with ancient symbols you can’t understand. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupts you.

Barbatos: (appearing silently behind you) “Curious, isn’t it? That book is one of the oldest records in the castle. It documents the nature of pacts and their potential… consequences.”

You jump in surprise, quickly closing the book.

You: “Barbatos! You scared me. I didn’t mean to—”

Barbatos: (smiling slightly) “You needn’t apologize. It’s no coincidence that you were drawn to this book.”

Barbatos steps closer, his gaze calm but piercing.

Barbatos: “Tell me, since your return from the past, have you noticed anything… unusual? A change in your magic, perhaps? Or a resonance with the brothers’ powers?”

You stiffen.

You: “What do you mean by ‘return from the past’? How do you know about that?”

Barbatos: (tilting his head slightly) “I am the steward of time. There are few events that escape my notice.”

Your eyes widen. You clutch the book tightly, unsure of how to respond.

You: “I… I haven’t told anyone except Solomon. How much do you know?”

Barbatos: “Enough to understand that your journey was no mere coincidence. It was necessary, though its ripple effects are only now beginning to manifest.”

You: “Ripple effects…? Are you saying all of this—the disturbances in the Devildom—are my fault?”

Barbatos: (softly) “Fault is a strong word. Responsibility, perhaps. But do not misunderstand—your presence here is essential. You hold the key to stabilizing the realm.”

Barbatos’ gaze sharpens as he steps closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper.

Barbatos: “However, I must warn you: secrets have a way of surfacing when the time is right. The truth will not remain hidden forever—not from the brothers, nor from yourself.”

He gestures toward the glowing book.

Barbatos: “Keep this between us for now. But be vigilant. The bonds you share with the brothers are deeper and more intricate than even you realize.”

After the encounter, Barbatos is in his room, standing over a magical map of the Devildom. Glowing lines represent the ley lines, which are flickering and unstable. He traces his fingers over the map, frowning as he notices a disturbing pattern.

Barbatos: (to himself) “The fluctuations are growing stronger, converging toward a single point. If this trajectory continues…”

He pauses, his expression darkening.

Barbatos: “…even the combined power of the brothers may not be enough to stop what’s coming.”

The map reveals the convergence point glowing ominously—a location deep within the Devildom that remains unidentified.

37 notes · View notes

free-fart-avenue · 3 days ago

Text

But they also know who he is.

At the end they hear about how he's from "another dimention" and want to know more, what if he meets with Sans briefly and asks if they should share Everything, Most things, or just make things up, then Papyrus and/or Frisk come over and remind them the hell they (almost entirely Geno) went through to just learn the lession that

They can depend on and tell their friends things. They don't have to lie about who Geno is because that would For Sure lead to more isolation.

Maybe Papyrus and Frisk don't even need to be there. Geno and Sans are both very smart and know that their friends, with being so strong already and now having a happy ending, could handle knowing that Geno was Sans. They both talk and figure that, nah, lying and hiding things is how they got here. How Geno got here, existed in the first place.

It could go either way, and would be up to whoever makes this into an actual thing if they do.

The others would have issues though. But maybe Geno's voice is more hoarse? Can you imagine how much he might have cried over.. everything? Watching his family and friends die, not being able to do anything, but he could probably deal with that, he knew something like that would happen long ago. But with how much he tried to convince himself just to be abandoned when his only hope of ending the pain gets taken from him again and again and Again.

Torriel would know Sans and Geno apart the best, Geno sounds sadder, but he puts more effort into talking then Sans does. Geno's voice is more tense.

Once the others all learn about and accept the fact that Sans and Geno were the same person, they can help show Geno how he is an individual, and one who lost all he cared about, just to get it replaced with copies.

Undyne keeps looking at him, he is quieter and he thinks maybe she is trying to see how they are the same, or how they're different, but then one day she approaches and tells him her thoughts.

She couldn't imagine losing all her friends, she'd make sure that'd never happen. But right in front of her, Sans did let that happen, but got everything back by going through hell. She probably doesn't think it was all bad that Geno went through the hell he did because that was what it took for her best friend's brother to actually open up to those around him.

I can keep going with just Undyne's pov, but this is about Geno.

With him trying harder to be open to his friends, he can confide his guilt and shame into them, he can tell them how he feels and what he thinks and they can help.

He probably would spend time with his aquentences more, but if he is able to grieve the loss of his world, his family and friends, and even his own identity, all with the support of his friends and brothers, then it could be a healthy change, one because he is a different person from Sans, and he can have different.

Maybe he gets closer to them first and they help him work through his pain, that seems more likely.

They all have a lot to work through, and I can keep going, but this is getting long and I'm getting tired, so I'll make less sense and say dumb stuff.

do you think geno post-aftertale gets guilty for "replacing" his papyrus with the current one (and by extension everyone else). like yeah there's A papyrus here and he's his brother along with sans but he's still wearing the scarf of his papyrus.

the papyrus he failed to protect.

and like sure since the timeline reset technically the current papyrus IS his papyrus but both geno and sans being here could probably mess with him.

he knows he's here because of determination but maybe sometimes he can't help but look at the scarf he's wearing and papyrus and feel an immense sense of guilt

that's not to mention how everyone will think of him as a stranger. can you imagine they're all hanging out and then undyne tells geno something that sans did. but he already knows that because he did that but that's weird to say. "oh yeah i remember that i did that." they dont know that, you're not their sans.

does toriel sometimes get unsettled by how sans and geno's voice sounds the exact same. how often would she mistake the two at first when they're talking out of sight. how often do they get mistaken in general? and when they do get mistaken do people always assume it's sans and never geno?

like yeah aftertale had a happy ending but there's still so much to explore after it. how does geno adjust to being in the real world again (and on the surface at that). how does geno deal with his identity. does he keep his name? does he explain who exactly he is to the others or does he let that go unspoken? does he sometimes look at sans and get jealous he didn't have to go through everything that he did to get this happy ending and then feel bad for getting jealous?

i think it would be nice for geno to hang out with people that are less familiar with sans but still people he knows, like asgore, mettaton, napstablook, etc. there'd be less of that "i know sans well but you're almost like a stranger". it's simpler with acquaintances because they simply don't know either of them well enough. so geno doesn't have to be worried about being compared all the time, consciously or not

#i made this too long #i might make some notes on this and make a actual story sometime #but i have other ideas im doing right now #this is the top of my head stuff

70 notes · View notes

valsnonsense · 10 months ago

Text

Prince Lime of Pop

"Flowers are like Trolls. Mess up they're very strict daily routine for even a second and they shrivel up and die dramatically. What? I'm right!"

Parents: Queen Poppy and King Branch

Siblings: Choco (Elder Sister), Vanilla (Elder Sister), Strawberry (Elder Sister), Apple (Brother), Oran (Brother), Lemon (Brother), Blueberry (Brother), Grape (Sibling), Iris (Younger Sister)

Age: 18

Pronouns: They/He

Sexuality: Demisexual/Panromantic

Genre: Pop/Rock

Voice Claim: Patrick Monaham (Train)

The fourth of the Rainbow Brothers. Soft-spoken, a bit shy, but easy to talk to, Lime is one of the more laid back of his siblings. A sort of "just let life happen" kinda guy. Where he got this infinite patience no one knows.

Lime works as a gardener, tending to the upkeep of the gardens all around Trollstopia. They spend more time around plants then they do around Trolls, finding them much easier to manage. It's not their fault that social lives are so hard to manage properly!

Lime does do flower arrangements in his spare time, though the arrangements he makes are often... humourous. Need a romantic, loving bouquet? Sorry, he's not your guy. Need a bouquet that subtlety says "Fuck you". He's gotcha covered.

Lime enjoys both Pop music and Rock. He can play the acoustic guitar extremely well, and often serenades his girlfriend while they hang out in flower fields.

Lime currently resides in Trollstopia alongside his family.

Fun Facts!

- Lime is currently dating a Doll named Penelope. She's a florist who set up shop outside Trollstopia. The two are an EXTREMELY cheesy couple, nose nuzzles and everything

- Lime actually has a tattoo on his ankle of a rose and thorns. He tried ringpops one night with a few cousins and woke up with it. He's very embarrassed about it

- All his plants have names. Lime gets really attached to all his plants and gets really sad when they die. He's a very emotional guy

And that's Lime!! Little florist enby, I love him. OH! And if you're wondering what a Doll is, it's the Mount Rageons. I never liked that name for them, and an amazing artist @slugbuggy calls them Dolls, which I find much more fitting! Sorry for the tag, I just wanna give credit where credit is due! (Please go check out their Floyd/OC works they're amazing! (Also if you want me to not call them Dolls I can totally change it no problem)). Penelope's profile will be coming much later xP

Lime went through many design overhauls, they were one of the more difficult kids to design, but I think I like the design I settled on

Voice Example: Hey, Soul Sister (Train)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls oc #trolls broppy #broppy #trolls lime #myart #traditional art #lime lime liiiiime #yes he is KINDA a stoner #but ever since the tattoo incident he tries fo avoid it #his brothers NEVER let him hear the end if it #Spotify #trolls the depths au

11 notes · View notes

reallyhardy · 10 months ago

Note

Sorry what’s up w the Ethan slater stuff? I know him only from your posts / SpongeBob stuff

HI HELLO please buckle in

yep -- the same guy from the spongebob musical, and my posts abut the spongebob musical.

he blew up completely and now the general public knows him as 'ariana grande's new boyfriend' - their relationship seems to have started off the back of co-starring in the upcoming wicked musical film adaptation.

it's just been like. a monkey's paw curling sort of a way for him to get catapulted to fame, as i had always really enjoyed him as a performer (as spongebob, yes, but also in the other roles i'd seen him in,) and my biggest hope back around 2017 was that he would continue in and be really successful in theatre, get a lot of broadway roles, maybe take on some existing parts i thought he'd really suit, like seymour in little shop or ogie in waitress.......... but instead he booked the role of boq from wicked in a massive hollywood film production instead, where he met ariana grande. THE ariana grande.

and then yeah. at some point, he and grande broke up with their respective partners, (slater leaving both his wife AND newborn son) jumped into a new relationship, and now the whole wider internet knows who he is but certainly not for the right reasons.

there's been speculation regarding whether or not grande and slater had cheated on their previous partners before their relationship began with various sources coming out of the woodwork saying "yes they did" and others saying "no they didn't" -- humans are all perfectly capable of making stuff up, the media especially, so i simply don't know who to trust and i admit it had completely shattered my whole good impression of him - PLUS it gave the wider internet an absolutely awful first impression of him, resulting in, yeah, the (frankly, unflattering, sometimes downright cruel) memes of him popping up on twitter and, as i discovered yesterday, in non-theatre youtubers' videos who would literally never have heard of him if not for the slater-grande romance 🥲

FULL COVERAGE of the situation as it was happening can all be found on the lovely @notasimpleslater's blog under the tag 'ozgate' if you want to delve deeper!

#loren talks #ethan slater #months later let's call this my actual full response/reaction lol #i think at the time this was going down at the end of 2023 i was sort of just Freaking Out like my blood was boiling lol #i was parasocially furious with both of them #ofc now i do realise i'd put him on something of a pedestal #having seen his cute posts about his then wife an former childhood sweetheart plus posts welcoming his new son #AND having watched a youtube mini-series he'd made with his then-brother-in-law. i was SO invested and then.#i was like OH. he really DESTROYED his family huh.#but ofc! every situation is nuanced. we don't know what went on behind the scenes #wrg to his relationship. or what grande's was like with her ex-husband #since everything came to light there's been articles stating that slater wants to work with his ex-wife to share custody of their child #and that he's been spotted backstage WITH his son at spamalot on broadway (his current production)#so it sugggests he's not trying to be an Absent Father #which tracks with some of his own artwork as he and nick blaemire DID write a whole musical about the strained relationship between #a father and son and i just feel like. that suggests something about his personal character. and makes me HOPE he'd want to #be a present and loving parent regardless of circumstance.#anyways.#it's simply not my business BUT. seeing his face #popping up every now and again #it does just. feel extremely weird haha #there's a part of me that's like oh but that's musical spongebob my bestie what's he doing here #as for ariana i really have never had a strong opinion of her #but i have to say hearing her songs out and about these days...... :') i could do without it

30 notes · View notes

widevibratobitch · 1 year ago

Text

i hate them with a passion

#this may turn into one of my long ass posts with hundreds of screenshots of quotes from the books #but i dont have the energy for that just now #anyway. this moment makes me wanna throw shit at the walls. their relationship is my favourite thing from the very beginning #but dumas went really went out of his way to make it even more insane in the last book #and dont hit me with a 'aww they have such a big/little brother energy its so cute uwu' please im begging you stop saying that #nothing irks me more than hearing their relationship described as something that innocent. its so much more complex and intense come on #there is pure visceral hate there. jealousy. bile. cruelty. some fucked up form of codependency even? maybe? from d'artagnan's side?#there's nothing more horrible and cruel than the fact that THEY are the only two left alive in the end (not for long but yknow)#they would NEVER be friends if not for athos (and they would never hate each other so much if not for him too)#they hate each other so so much. but remember that d'artagnan starts out being absolutely bedazzled by aramis and looking up to him #his first impression of aramis is just. hearteyes and 'wow i wish that were me'. he doesnt do that even with athos at first.#he grows to adore athos yes but upon first meeting him he doesnt think much of him. unlike with aramis.#and then it changes instantly. does a 180° flip when aramis is a bitch to him.#and it stays that way for the entirety of the trilogy. until this moment. this one short moment when d'artagnan #who. mind you. is not innocent himself and was also manipulating the hell out of porthos and talking shit about aramis behind his back.#but he makes that step. he reaches out. 'i fucking hate you let me help you you dumb evil cunt' and aramis says 'no <3'#you know i have this thing where i am OBSESSED with finding the one moment where a character condemns themselves for good.#the one moment when they figuratively sign the contract for their perdition. that up to that moment they could still be saved somehow.#for rodrigo it is when he tries to kill eboli (in the play). for don giovanni it is when he refuses elvira's plea to change #(NOT when he accepts il commendatore's invite mind you)#and i feel like THIS is that moment for aramis.#the fact that it comes from d'artagnan is so just so fucking agsjssgsgsh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and of course he says no.#there is no version of this where he lets himself be helped. he has to say no he will always say no.#but boy oh boy is this making me bang my head against the wall.#the three musketeers #les trois mousquetaires #vicomte de bragelonne #alexandre dumas

14 notes · View notes

alice--pallas · 11 hours ago

Text

Alice couldn't help but let out another chuckle when her brother proclaimed that she ought to be a bitch more often. Smiling, she said "You know, I think you might be right... Maybe I'd be more productive that way, get more shit done." Then again, maybe being a bitch is what would encourage someone to finish the job they'd started. She couldn't know for sure. She raised her eyebrows a bit when he mentioned Alec being an energy vampire--she couldn't necessarily disagree with that notion, though she was surprised that Cyrek was mentioning him. After all, it was the second time in less than a month that he'd brought up her ex-husband after having not spoke about him in years. She found it peculiar--she didn't mind it, of course. It wasn't like back when the wound was still fresh and hearing Alec's name felt like the equivalent of being stabbed in the chest over and over again. Really, it was more just the fact that Alice didn't think about Alec much these days. With a curious smirk, she said "Why do you keep bringing him up all of a sudden? Has my ex-husband been on your mind lately?" She chuckled and clarified, "I don't mind, of course. I'm just curious, you don't usually mention him." Giving a shrug, she said "But maybe... I don't know, I'm not as angry as I used to be, you know? So I suppose I'm less of a bitch--usually. But maybe Bitchy Alice will begin to make an appearance more often."

Of course, she didn't blame Cyrek for feeling such vitriol for her ex-husband. After all, Alec's departure had pretty much torn the journalist apart and unfortunately, her twin brother was left to pick up the pieces after the fact. Honestly, if someone had done to him what Alec had done to her, she'd most definitely hate them forever as well so it was only fair.

Alice nodded in agreement, thinking back to her own childbirth that ultimately resulted in an emergency C-section near the end. "Yeah, that is fair... Even with my C-section, those contractions were a fucking bitch. I liked being pregnant but I didn't like that," she chuckled. What's that say about us? We like pain? Masochism? Sure looks like you're one to me, layin' here with a bullet in your gut. She rolled her eyes and laughed at his suggestion, appreciating the flash of his smile, even if it was fleeting. "Oh, yeah, this is definitely what I was going for--a gunshot wound and nothing more than heavy strength Tylenol. It's a dream come true." Shaking her head, she said "I don't know... For some reason, the needles never bothered me... I guess we really are just gluttons for punishment." Perhaps it was the punishment that they both felt they deserved, though she didn't say that part out loud--she didn't really need to, considering it hung in the air right above their heads. Still, she could always depend on Cy to be someone who just understood her past with addiction. There was no need to explain or justify her thinking. He already got it. Holding out her hand for the Aleve, she said "Thank you so much." Then, with a chuckle, she add "And please, you think I'm gonna' rat on you to Susie? For you doing her job better than she can? No fuckin' way."

When he came back with her juice, she downed the Aleve and hoped that it would start to work sooner than later. "Thanks again." She took deep breath as her brother tried to calm her worries about her daughter. She knew he was probably right when he said that this would barely be a blip on Rhea's radar--that's how it should be. Still, she hated the idea that she was missing any part of her daughter's life while she was locked up in this cheerless hospital. She missed her little laugh and smile. She missed reading to her at night. But she was eternally grateful for Cyrek and Stella taking Rhea in for the meantime. "Thank you so much for taking care of her. I know you guys have a lot going on, but... I really appreciate it. I know she's in good hands--and hell, she's probably having a blast since she basically gets to have a sleepover with her cousins every night," she chuckled. She forced a small smile when he called her by her birth name--he usually only did that when he was trying to comfort her and she was being stubborn and not listening. We can't hide our kids from reality. Giving a small nod, she said "You're right about that... I hate that you're right so often." Finally looking at him and agreeing to the notion of Rhea visiting her in the hospital, she said "Okay. The next time you visit, if you're able to bring her, I would love to see her. I miss her so much."

That rich guy from the council? She couldn't be sure if he was referring to Abraxis or Kaz--both of them had visited her, Abra more than once of course. If ever there were a time to come clean, it was now. What the fuck are you up to? What'd you dig up? There was also that. "Look, I don't... I can't prove it yet but I think that...somehow, some way, someone on the council may be connected to the body snatchings..." The both of them knew damn well that Kurt Adler was one of the corpses that had been robbed from his grave--she hadn't been on scene for that one in particular but she'd looked at the pictures after the fact with her boss. Her heart ached for her twin brother and his loss. "And I want to get closer to it, but... It feels...really unsafe now. But at the same time, am I not on the right track? Why else would I be gunned down like that?"

When he suggested that she pull back from the council, she said "Well, that's going to be a bit difficult." Taking a deep breath, she looked up at her brother and said "Heads up, you're not gonna' like this, but... I've been seeing Abraxis Webb for a few months now. We've been keeping it quiet, obviously--and I can imagine what you're going to say, but... I don't know, I met them at the Ivy and we were flirting and I thought that I could get an in on the council--I thought that if I got close, if I had a connection, I could investigate more. And I've been able to do that, but... It's not just about reconnaissance anymore. We've gotten pretty serious. That's why they're hanging around the hospital. They're here to see me. And I believe that I can trust them but I'm very aware that I could be wrong. I don't think I am, but... I also don't have the greatest track record, so...it's a possibility, I suppose. I could be wrong. And that's what I'm trying to figure out."

Dark humor was practically all he had to offer in the face of tribulations that didn't preclude certain death. ( Grief was an adversary he had no business wrangling with; the guilt that he was still chained to his ankles wasn't dragging him in the dark waters of the Atlantic ocean without anchor anymore, but washing ashore was no better than where his identical twin had landed facedown. He'd been twiddling his thumbs about suggesting a grief group for a while now with Stella, that perhaps they could both benefit, and connecting with other people was bountifully more productive to him than sitting across from a lone therapist ever was. If it were something anonymous, maybe they'd do alright. Was it worth a shot? Starting this... new chapter with her at some point, a family, he didn't want them to get too caught up in these trivial mind games that Kurt's disturbed headstone had wrought. Deep down, he knew that it was to get in his head. If it was him they wanted, then he needed to stop giving them the ammunition. ) "I'd say laughter's the best medicine or whatever the phrase is, but I'm thinkin' that's shite right now. But I think you should be a bitch more often. I was startin' to think livin' in the Big Apple sucked it right out of you, y'know, some energy vampire shit Alec was feedin' off of."

His opinion of the guy wasn't very high, unaided by what few interactions they'd had outside the wedding revolving around the coupling's pending separations. Alice might wish him well, but he sure as fuck didn't. Someone had to hold a grudge around here.

"Mm. I worry 'bout that with the whole childbirth thing. It's real hard without epidural. I thnik Stella's gonna make a ritual sacrifice out of an OBGYN if she don't have it." Before they'd started dating, he would've been no dice on that being on the table too. "Think painkillers would be more my shit, though. She wasn't much for the needles. What's that say about us? We like pain? Masochism? Sure looks like you're one t' me, layin' here with a bullet in your gut," he ribbed lightly, the corners of his mouth quirking as he gave her a barely-there smirk. If they couldn't joke about their ironic eclipse of a vice, then what fun was it? Plus, it was one of those times Alice seemed cagey and agitated that it was causing her problems in the forefront; after a while, it could be almost... forgotten, until something pulled the reminder back into the room like an old friend you didn't want to have an intervention for. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the bottle and unscrewed the lid, saying as he shook two into her hand, "I'll go steal a juice from the cart. Don't rat me out, bitch."

It didn't take him more than a couple minutes to come back, a juicebox in hand, poking the hole out and turning it over in a plastic cup, filling it up and handing it to her. Taking a seat, he let out a snort. "Please. Four year olds can barely like, use their pea brains to remember shit at this age. Stell baked her some fresh cookies and she forgot all 'bout it until the next time she was askin' for mummy. Don't worry. She's more scared of the pair of used socks my crackhead of a cat likes to throw up and down the hall at midnight." After a pause, perched in the hardbacked chair rather than the edge of the bed as the scent of sterile cleaning products and hospital perfume were bound to spark anxieties for him later if he sat at the bed's edge, he reached out to lay his hand over Alice's. "Aliki, she's fine. If you wanna see her, s'not gonna hurt nothin' really. She's gonna keep askin' for you. And... it's garbage advice, but we can't hide our kids from reality."

Lifting his hands in mock surrender, they fell away from her own, though the silence he settled into was slightly unnerved, and he quirked the corner of his mouth. "That rich guy from the council? Yeah, I've seen a couple council people around your room. Like vultures. What the fuck are you up to? What'd you dig up?" The word usage was probably an irony to his own personal hell he'd been wading through since the beginning of the year, but now wasn't the time to get into that. At least, not right this second, while Alice had other fears on her mind. Silent as he listened, he picked at a broken thumbnail, solemnity overshadowing the overexuberant persona that he knew how to don like the back of his hand, receding to his normal, sullen self. "I dunno. You're up the council's arse, somehow. Enemies don't really kill enemies if they know they're enemies. S' the snakes you should watch out for. You get me? Just remember t' be careful with trust. Whatever you're doin' with the council, if you wanna keep up this thing, you better fall back." Cyrek fucked with people who had money with their easily replaceable shit. If he was stealing their operations and plans, well, he wasn't that fucking daft. Licking his lips, a breath left his lungs. Maybe they were both putting everyone around them in danger. Like brother, like sister. "Whatever danger I got comin', I did it to me." Self-deprecating? And true.

#tw: violence mention #tw: pregnancy mention #tw: gun mention #tw: drugs mention #tw: addiction #tw: death mention

20 notes · View notes

dirt-str1der · 2 years ago

Text

Yaoi has poisoned all of your fucking brains !!

#Yakuza HATEblog #i dont want to hear about the new yakuza trailer where kiryu proposed to soemone he wouldnnever do that thats so scary #also they refered to sayama as the cop lady like please show some respect to her she didnt be annoying for you to forget her #ive become homophobic now because i hated seeing a particular post so much like that will never happen you are crazy #like no this isnt how kzmj can win they have never even once considered a future together because kiryus foreplanning ended when he lost #his brother and majima has spent half her life waiting for saejima to come back like they have more important things to worry about #and kiryu is not able to share his kids with anybody he cant simultaneously raise haruka with someone he has to either be a single dad or an #absent dad no in between and sometimes haruka is left parentless in the middle of that mess but its not kiryus problem hes driving cars amd #beating people up .... well he does care sorry for insinuating he doesnt ... he thinks about his kids every day #but i guarantee you he does not think about majima every day i swear it to you he does not care about her that much !!! i have to forever #stress this doesnt mean that he hates majima but it simply means that shes not his priority AND SHE WILL NEVER BE !!! kiryu will never #risk it all just for a suckle on that majiwilly like he doesnt like her that much ... if kiryu didnt even give majima so much as a phonecall #when he was ignoring her the entirety of y3 AFTER tossing her back to the wolves just so he can play house at okinawa.. hes not going to #suddenly realise that he wants to spend the rest of his life with majima hes going to be pondering how miserable he is while beating the #fuck out of people because sorry i didnt actually pay attention to the gaiden stuff is kiryu a hitman now or some sort of mercenary either #way its so hot that hes paralleled by y0 majima because hes so depressed and wants to kill himself and forced to wear a nice suit and do #things he doesnt want to while being kept on a tight leash like hohooho ... have sex with me ...!!!#im going to kill him myself to put him out of his misery if i have to ... just let kiryu run off to america and join the cia im kidding but #wait i just thought of him actually running off and sayama pulling some strings in the force to keep people from looking for him because #shes like a bigshot cop now ... i think she should be able to cradle him gently and keep him like a show cat #a shivering wet penis in the rain and she takes him in and gives him a loving home ... i feel a little embarrassed talking about hetships #but the concept of kiryu just being in her house and living with her is making me laugh like wow ... hes straight now.... like obviously hes #still not going to be like lets get married 🥰 but sayama would want to... i believe that she could forge their documents so kiryu isnt an #illegal immigrant anymore and she gives him an american name so john yakuza can become real ... its like a fake dating au but they really #arent dating theyre just having sex and acting out scenes from a kdrama but eventually kiryu will have to go back because hes so sad #without his kids and he needs to see them one last time to pass away peacefully. sorry i just remembered how much older kiryu was than #sayama like thats a bit funny ... like i still think kiryu should be into older guys or girls but like we cant always have that happen #like how majimas options for getting fucked by creepy old guys are getting lesser year by year because those old geezers keep dying and hes #old now too ... like theyre so old thats fucked. i know ive been saying how kzmj can never win but i do think majima should breastfeed kiryu

11 notes · View notes

chirpsythismorning · 2 years ago

Text

I have multiple versions of Mike in my head if I'm being honest.

gay/bi/unlabeled Mike discourse TW:

There's a version of Mike in my head that's gay and I love him dearly. I think that when you dig a little deeper into Mike's character, beyond what's being outright told to us, but also what's being shown, what you'll find is that not everything is what it seems (ie. mirrors = reflection/deception). And so navigating him as a character that requires more than us just going along with what's on the surface (what the casual viewers see) is what I do think leads to a lot of analysis that leans towards Mike being gay.

And yet still, simultaneously there's a version of Mike in my head that's bi and I also love him dearly. I see him pretty clearly in my head and he is wonderful and dear to me!! I also think this is more than anything because if someone whose bisexual can relate to Mike and his character, then that's great and it sort of just knocks down the basic claim that bi-Mike doesn't make sense at all/isn't realistic at all, as an argument? And so hearing that argument does irc me a little bit. I know we're talking about a TV show here, where everything is intentional. I get it and I agree! I do!

However, if we're going to also in the same breath use real life examples of peoples experience with sexuality, and argue how Mike's arc is going to provide representation to not only queer people watching, but also perhaps have a ripple effect on the entire film industry and how we as a society tend to perceive sexuality based on preconceived notions/stereotypes, in that regard, Mike being bi is valid... Because if this were the real world (again a place many of us are saying will be impacted by this moment in TV), then it wouldn't matter if we never saw Mike outright look at girls in the same way he looked at boys. This is a unique situation bc doing what we're doing in the real world would be despicable. We're talking about our perception of what makes someone gay/bi/unlabeled and all the assumptions at play in regards to that, while using the real world as evidence to support our claims. This is why, because of the impact on our reality, I would be okay with Mike being bi in canon. I'd also be okay with it assuming that Finn was okay with it. No matter what happens, Finn has a lot of say in Mike's arc, just like most of the main cast has a say in their characters. If Finn is standing by it then shit, I'm there!

I may be a gay mike truther, but I will gladly admit that there is bi-Mike evidence, bc there is! There are moments with Mike that show the colors of the bi flag that add up to at least a couple handfuls of times. While I do think the gay imagery sort of outweighs the bi-imagery in the details (there is also gay Mike evidence!), it's still not enough for me to rule out bi-Mike all together bc after all, sexuality is a spectrum and so the back and forth going on could technically be an indication of Mike questioning and figuring himself out!

I also think that Mike can be capable of having internalized homophobia while also being bi (or unlabeled/gay for that matter). I think he's capable of an arc separate from Will/El, related to him and his own insecurities and why he felt the need to be in denial for so long. All that closet imagery was there for a reason! His parents having hints at being aligned with more conservative values was intentional. I also don't think exploring this has to interfere with Will, El or any of the other character arcs. Mike did arguably start the show as the protagonist, who took a big step back from being in focus over the last two seasons and so yes I do think exploring his struggles more outright is something that could and should happen, to bring his character's arc to an end properly, regardless of what label he identifies with once that time comes.

And then there's another version of Mike in my head that's unlabeled Mike and best believe he is loved!!!. While I agree it would be frustrating to have to see people still unable to accept Mike not being straight, just like there are people still in denial about Will and Robin (an ugly reminder ppl will do it regardless), it also doesn't feel great hearing that Mike being unlabeled would be disappointing. Arguably one could make the claim that Mike struggling with his identity all this time and being surrounded by all this imagery back and forth, along with the whole forced conforming speech and that 'bs media propaganda' line alone, could be evidence supporting the fact that he's just an unlabeled king, bc they do exist. Again I welcome criticism to unlabeled Mike along with all the other interpretations of Mike's character bc some criticism is well supported and like I don't have a problem with discourse.

Here's the thing, I personally think it's sort of weird to rule out stuff as a possibility, at all? I think it's weird to make the claim that someone is not media literate or is setting themselves up for disappointment for simply having a theory. So yes I would rather believe all of it, consider every possibility, because it also allows me to not be blinded where certain analysis actually doesn't check out. Both gay and bi-Mike truthers will make a claim, be presented with evidence against it that arguably does check out as more strong that the original claim they made, only to downplay it as not that deep and move on. And it's because neither side wants to really acknowledge those deeper things if it goes against what they want to believe. (However, if it supports what they believe, then nvm, it is that deep!)

Sure it might be a little bit embarrassing to be super convinced a theory is going to play out, only for it to be way off, but this applies to literally everyone. Everyone has theories and most of them are going to be wrong. There's no shame in shooting in the dark when it comes to speculating about what could happen.

What I do however think would actually be embarrassing, is insisting a theory is not happening, only to be the one who ends up being wrong.

Everyone can do whatever they want. I can't stop anyone from making controversial posts and honestly I wouldn't want to. I don't want us to get to a point where we feel like we can't speak our minds about basic things or to a point where we make each other feel so uncomfortable and disliked that we're not welcome. I don't want to hurt peoples feelings and make them feel small over this because it's not that serious and making real life people feel miserable over a TV show is just not worth it to me!

If you find yourself discouraging others, think about the possibility that it could be you that ends up being wrong and maybe don't take it too far?

That's why I will not be caught DEAD saying a theory has no chance because it would be naive to insinuate that. Now, believing theories on the other hand... I could go on for hours about what I do believe. And I'm gonna have fun continuing to do it!

Anyways I love unlabeled, bi and gay Mike and all the analysis surrounding it. Yes I'm controversial as I do personally agree/disagree with both sides at different points. And so until we get confirmation, I'm open to differing takes and thinking about arguments that could be used to analyze each scene for each one bc you'd be surprised how believable each analysis can be (including straight Mike... yeah yeah I love him too (unfortunately). However, he does scare me).

#byler #pls don't insist your right and everyone else is wrong #i do not want to see your heartbreak sprial about how the duffer brothers are terrible writers bc you (1 person) were wrong...#gay bi unlabeled whatever you identify mike as pls leave room for sanity if you want others to take you seriously #btw i headcanon mike as being gay but i could also see him being someone that later on down the line identivies as bi or vice versa...#bc sexuality is a spectrum and we're all figuring our shit out #and whatever mike (finn says in interviews post s5)#i'm on his side idc what he says #if he says mike is straight i will be ummm #lets not talk about it bc it's not happening #if he supports mike being unlabeled and a boy kisser okay tell em #if he says mike is gay then you heard him #if he says mike is bi then don't make him say it again you hear???!#end of rant #i will never talk about this again bc i've made it clear where i stand i think...

19 notes · View notes