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#i do have a killer draft that i need to finish
wyllaztopia · 6 months
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taking a break from animations - back to the good ol' asks
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welcometogrouchland · 7 months
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I love Steph's origin as told in the Secret Origins 80 page giant- I just overall think it strengthens her character by giving her a lot of pathos and adding to her heroism (which isn't something writers were focused on in her actual intro in detective comics #647 since she was just meant to act as a plot device back then) BUT there is one tiny detail in it i will begrudge, and that is the portrayal of her having a minor love at first sight moment for tim
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Secret origins 80 page giant, ID in alt
(or well, technically this was their second meeting in that story (the brick was the first) so...love at second sight?)
Mostly because Stephanie showed no interest in her introduction and only showed romantic feelings towards Tim AFTER this moment here:
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Robin (1993) #4, ID in alt
Straight up the progression here goes:
The adventure in 'tec where they first meet -> Tim investigating the same crime scene as Steph -> she beats him up not knowing it's him at first, apologizes but says he shouldn't have scared her -> he remembers her/the moniker she goes by -> they talk about plot for a few pages -> Stephanie starts flirting
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Robin (1993) #4, ID in alt
Which...is so fascinating to me and says so much about Stephanie. She highlights the fact that Tim "remembered" her. Like. Steph. Girl. This is our bar? It's sweet but kind of speaks to how much Stephanie is ignored at home/how little and sporadically she's shown interacting with her peers (and rarely ever the same kids twice). Her idea of peak romance is just...being on someone's mind even when you're not there.
Kind of also adds layers to Steph's proclivity towards jealousy later on, a manifestation of her insecurity and loneliness (though don't get it twisted, she's not written this way bc Dixon and co think it's an interesting character flaw, they wrote it bc they think it's an inherent character flaw of (particularly young) women/girls, which is very apparent in how he approaches Ariana's character as well from what I've read)
Also the fact that Steph becomes so smitten for Tim almost immediately after this is (a few issues later she aggressively flirts with him during AN ACTIVE HOSTAGE SITUATION. WHERE SHE'S THE HOSTAGE) again is kind of a mixture of kind of funny and sad. One boy is nice to her once and she's fully ready to wife him. Girl you are deranged (affectionate) (concerned)
#ramblings of a lunatic#dc comics#stephanie brown#tim drake#timsteph#meta#< ??? ig#robin 1993#made this post and forgot to finish. saved it in drafts. saw posts that annoyed me. proceeded to finish it#the subset of fans who think they're doing a righteous feminism by giving steph more flaws than she has in canon...headaches#yes flawed female characters are important representation no i dont think you projecting chuck dixons conservative values onto her-#-is doing her character a great favour. if so you need to commit to the bit and make tim a stone cold nark /j#sorry okay im done vaguing. there's real things going on in the world that matter. the bad take is the mind killer etc etc#anyway the zero to 100 progression of early timsteph is fascinating. on the one hand i know it's mostly a product of its time#both in terms of portrayals of romance (esp teen romance) and partially of women and girls by dixon (not extremely boy obsessed-#-but there's a. dark shadow of the boy crazy trope. a gentle whiff of it in the air. just a little)#but bc this aspect isn't blatantly/egregiously author bias i choose to analyse it#i could also analyse how steph in general is portrayed as liking guys she can't/shouldn't have a little#(her crush on the much older detective in bg2009 and also tim a little bit w/ the secret identity thing)#(but that's a whole other discussion. also that aspect of the romance in bg2009 is. also a little sexistly motivated-#-and also dropped part way through to an extent so like..not exactly ripe for analysis)#ANYWHO i love you Steph <3 you're unwell and yet so adorable and compelling Steph <3
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ladyluscinia · 10 months
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Anyway between getting more and more, like, genuinely pissed off at all the lecture-the-idiots posts by the contingent who can now directly claim "the only bad actions that have any narrative or emotional weight on this show are the ones that make our main couple feel bad, duh, the show is about them not the plot devices minor side characters" and view this as wonderful and enjoyable writing (that frankly more shows should aspire to match the "nuance" of 🙄) instead of any sort of problem, while also finally just giving up in frustration on puzzling out what the hell would need to be spliced into canon to pull off a satisfying ending within the framework of S2 (this is a big deal for me since I'm the person who is making God!Jack work in a spn fix-it - I like the puzzle and restrictions of canon compliance)...
I think I'm officially about burned out on engaging with OFMD S2 🤷‍♀️
Frustration fires never last as long as enjoyment ones, and I'm not keen to keep engaging with things once the scale tips toward upsetting. It's been cathartic doing a post-mortem with you all 🫡 I still enjoy reblogging cute Frenchie/Izzy fanart and such, I've still got daemon AU thoughts tabs that I briefly set aside for recipes this past week, but canon kinda sucks tbh.
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ohtobeleah · 2 years
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M.U.R.P.H // Bradley Bradshaw
Summary: An undisclosed pregnancy that you and your husband try keeping a secret ends up being the reason you end up in hospital during a PTI session with the Dagger Squad.
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: Pregnancy. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Mild Angst.
Author Note: Happy Saturday! This is pretty self indulgent but I final finished this one-shot that’s been in my drafts forever.
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“Alright team.” Pete Mitchell, although overworked and severely underpaid for the crap he put up with–grinned ear to ear at his group of elite Naval Aviators who sat before him after debriefing this morning's training exercise. “As you know, this weekend is Memorial Day weekend and the Admirals have decided to get a jump start on the events.” 
“Are we getting a long weekend?” Fanboy beamed hopefully as he sat up a little straighter. “Please tell me we’re getting a long weekend—“ He hoped that if he asked with enough conviction in his voice the answer would be yes. However, he hadn’t noticed you standing at the back of the room. A protective hand over your barely visible baby bump. Waiting for the right moment to make your presence known. Bob had noticed though—he was already dreading what was to come. He hated Memorial Day. Not because he didn’t want to pay respects to those who had fallen, no. He’d honour the fallen every damn day if he had to. 
So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph.
You’d been his PTI during his time in Lamoore. You were the first Bradshaw he’d met and before he later Met Bradley Bradshaw and put two and two together that the two of you were married–nothing had ever made more sense. 
Bob’s heart had sunk into his ass when he found out you were being transferred to North Island. You were somewhat of a hard task master when it came to gruelling training sessions and Memorial Day always gave you free rein to send anyone packing with their tail between their legs if they couldn’t keep up. 
You were, however, a solid friend. When you weren’t working, you were the life of the party. The brightest smile in the room and always the one who everyone gravitated towards. Much like Bradley, you two always seemed to get the party started. Whether it was playing great balls of fire and singing at the top of your lungs—or starting an important dart night that saw a permanent tally board hung up beside the much too loved dartboard. There had been a time or two where you’d challenged the strongest of the bunch to an arm wrestle—Bob was always the first to bow at your bark. Not one to challenge anything you said, hell he’d do just about anything you told him to do….
So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph. 
Bob had never been one to believe in soulmates before he saw you and Bradley together, he’d never met two people more suited for each other. But neither of you needed to hear that from him–you’d already managed to figure that out on your own. 
“No, Fanboy—“ Maverick sighed as he gestured for you to make your way to the front of the class. “No you aren’t getting a long weekend, what you are getting though, is a killer workout with PTI Bradshaw.” You heard the mixed reviews your introduction received. You’d only just recently finished running annual fitness testing for those who needed to be re-evaluated. So the idea of yet another gruelling workout tossed their way wasn’t what some of the aviators had in mind for a head start on the weekend. 
Jake Seresin and Javy Machado however? Oh they were wrapped. They loved a challenge—they adored you and they certainly came over the challenges you loved to hand out. 
“Morning everyone.” You beamed as you handed Rooster, you beloved husband, who sat in the front row with a soft grin, a pile of papers. “Take one and pass them along please Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Your fingers lingered across Bradley’s for a few seconds as he smiled softly back at you with heart shaped eyes. He always thought you looked so different with your hair pulled back into a ridiculously tight bun. Your uniform made you look so different, nothing like what you looked like at the Hard Deck with your hair out and mum jeans on. Sitting beside him at the piano playing great balls of fire. A Margarita in your hand and his glasses over your beautiful eyes. Nothing like what you looked like tucked into his side, hair splayed every which way and silk pyjamas adorning your beautiful body. 
“Physical Training Instructors play a key role in developing and maintaining the health, fitness and well-being of our airmen. In the United States Navy, physical fitness is absolutely essential in maintaining good health and overall wellbeing.” Pete Mitchell had been required to say that little statement prior to any session he handed over to you. “Regardless of Rank, PTI “Agony” Bradshaw will be your superior for the next two hours—with that I hand you over.”
“Thanks Mav.” You chuckled, appreciating the way you were so respected by the veteran aviator. PTI’s didn’t always have the best wrap—so when Maverick commanded the attention of everyone in the room on your behalf it gave you a little more confidence each and every time. “Alright flyboys—“ You teased, turning your attention to Phoenix so you could address her too. “And Flygirl, today we’re doing MURPH—“ 
Your declaration was met with a choir of dismay and disapproval from at least half of the team that sat before you. Suddenly their shoulders were a little more slouched and their faces plastered with existential dread when they started reading over the workout plan you'd had Bradley pass back. No one liked doing MURPH, except maybe Jake Seresin.
“Ma’am, I think that sounds like a great idea—“ Hangman sent you one of his thousand watt grins as he played with the toothpick that sat between his teeth. “Don’t you think your wife here comes up with some banger ideas, Rooster?” Bradley did think you had some good ideas, he wasn't going to let you know that though–if he did he knew his workouts, his Personal Training sessions and his Fitness Testing would just increasingly get harder and harder. It had only been by the skin of his goddamn nose that you passed his last Multi-Stage Fitness Test. Bradley Bradshaw was a hunk and with that meant he himself was not the most aerodynamic of the bunch–Bob had passed with flying colours, although you did nearly force him to restart his push-ups again when you caught him cheating on range. 
“She told me what she had planned last night Hangman, I’m ready to go, brought my pre workout in my bag and everything—“ Rooster just sighed as he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs as he brought his hands up to rest behind his head. “Piece of cake.” 
“I have never heard anyone say MURPH is a piece of cake.” Phoenix groaned. “Aggie, please–” 
“I don't make the rules, Lieutenant, I just enforce them.” You had gotten used to the love-hate relationship and animosity you received while you were in uniform, it was your job to make sure none of the navy’s finest aviators let their fitness fall to the wayside. “Now for those who don't know what MURPH is, i'll explain quickly then you can all take twenty to change, refuel, and meet me over in the gym.” As you pulled out the empty chair that sat vacant next to your husband, you used it as a footstool before propping yourself up on the desk. Clearing your throat before reading out the workout explanation on the sheet you'd distributed. 
“M.U.R.P.H is a hero WOD dedicated to Michael P. Murphy, the first service member to receive the Medal of Honor for service in Afghanistan, during a Memorial Day event on Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, May 24, 2015.” Although there were more people sitting before you who didn't like the idea of such a gruelling workout, they did respect the fallen. “Michael's favourite workout was dedicated to him after his passing and thus, will be your workout today.” You felt the stomachs of everyone, all but Jake And Javy who just sat a little straighter in their chairs, drop.
“Today you will complete a one mile run, 100 pull-ups, expected to be chest to bar, 200 push-ups, 300 bodyweight squats, and to finish up we’ll run another mile.” Bradley crept a hand around your calf, thumbing your uniform as he squinted his eyes and bit his bottom lip, hoping you wouldn't add anything else to the list…..He should have known better. But he couldn't hold a grudge against you–not when you were four months pregnant and glowing. You were hiding your pregnancy well, it wasn't that you didn't want your friends and family to know, it's just you wanted to revel in the experience with Bradley for a little while longer before telling everyone you were both expecting. “Usually the twenty pound weight vest would be optional, but boys and girls you are some of the Navy’s finest Aviators, so you will all complete this course while wearing a twenty pound vest, none-notable people.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*
In the locker room, Nomex Flight Suits had been discarded for workout gear. Standard issue work boots had been replaced by trainers, and any and all standards of professionalism had gone out the window. It was the one thing everyone actually did enjoy about having you as their PTI, you weren’t big on formality. As long as respect was there you couldn’t give a rats ass about if people swore at you or razzed you. It made the job just a little bit more enjoyable. 
The last thing anyone wanted to do while they were working out was keep a rigid and professional persona. 
“Man, sometimes I hate your wife.” Phoenix grumbled as the group walked out of the locker room with towels slung over their shoulders and copious amounts of pre-workout scooped into shakers. Bradley couldn't help but to laugh, he loved you so much, the wedding band wrapped around his ring finger was there to prove it. The tattoos of your name on his left ass cheek was also there to prove it. 
“I wouldn't let her hear you say that.” Bradley paused as he took a swig of his pre-workout before handing it to Jake who looked like he was pumping himself up for the fight of his life. “She’ll ‘accidentally’ forget to count your reps and make you start again.” 
“This is surely a form of torture–” Fanboy added as he trailed behind with Bob. 
“It's a hero WOD Fanboy–respect the dead.” Jake hissed, he was as keen as, the only one in the group who hadnt had a negative thing to say about your workout plan. “I don't know why you guys aren't more excited.”
“Unlike you Hangman, most of us aren't gluttons for punishment.” Payback teased as he came to sling an arm around Jake's shoulders. “Or degradation, considering the unholy things I've seen in your search history.” Jake and Bradley had grown closer in the past few years that saw them in North Island permanently, there had been more times than you could count where the two of them would stumble back to your humble abode, drunk out of their minds. There had even been a time or two where you'd caught them spooning on the couch when Rooster couldn't take the stairs in his drunken state. 
“None of which compare to what Bradsaw probably cops in the bedroom.” Jake was quick to turn the attention back on Rooster, sending him a smirk over his shoulder as he took a quick sip of the pre-workout they were sharing and handed it over. “Huh Rooster? Agony probably has you wrapped around her little finger.” It was no secret amongst the group that you were a power house PTI, you didn’t dish out any workout you couldn't do with your eyes closed, something that the Daggers really valued about you was your integrity. You were honest and kind and above all, you levelled with them. You weren't a hypocrite and you, as much as you hated your job some days, the constant pressure, the delayed onset muscle soreness, the gruelling workouts and the sweat, you led by example and practised what you preached. 
That didnt mean you and Bradley wouldn't reserve Friday nights for takeout and chocolate. 
“That she does.” Was all Bradley replied with, “Have you fucking seen her? She’d kick my ass any day of the week if I gave her any ounce of crap.” He was without a shadow of a doubt whipped, but Bradley had always been that way with you–ever since he met you at his first water survival training weekend, he was down bad. He’d been assigned to your little group that first Saturday and you sent his heart into the stratosphere the first time you smiled at him. He was still unsure if it had ever come back or if your unconditional love and admiration just kept it hovering in the ozone layer. 
“She looks like she's glowing.” Bob remarked as the group mixed with nervousness, existential dread and far too much ego radiating of one particular member made their way across the tarmac to the base gym you could be found in any given day of the week. It was your home away from home. Kitted out with state of the art equipment, a spacious and functional environment that was welcoming and motivating. “She's far too excited about this, oh my god.” 
Bradley knew you were glowing, but he also knew it wasn't because you were excited. He knew that it was because of the little one growing inside you, a mix of him and you. He kind of hoped it was a boy, but everyone always told him he’d make a good girl dad. Regardless–he just wanted to be a dad, his biggest achievement by far would be being a good dad.
“She really is.” Bradley beamed as he heard the unmistakable tune of AJR’s Burn The House Down blasting through your speakers, reading over the workout plan one final time as you sat on the sled track, legs sprawled as you hummed away in your own little word. Twirling the pen you held in your hand absentmindedly, Bradley’s voice brought you out of your concentration. Alerting you that the team was ready to be put through their paces. “We’re hear for your torture session, Agony, don’t hold back on Hangman though, he’s been gloating since, well–forever really.” Bradley teased as he offered you a gentle hand, helping you rise up from the felt sled track. You immediately felt a dizziness unparalleled to anything you'd ever experienced before. So much so you fought off the urge to succumb to the feeling of descent as you stumbled and stammered for a second. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Lieutenant.” You smiled, exhaling as you steadied your equilibrium. Bradley caught on immediately that you were feeling slightly uneasy, placing a soft hand against the small of your back as you cleared your throat and rolled up your sleeves a little. “Alright, So I’ve measured out half a mile along the airfield, so it's half a mile to and half a mile back– You can either run the tarmac or use the treadmill.” You explained to everybody standing around  listening in to what you had to say. 
“Can we break up the reps Y/n?” Payback asked as he shouldered Bob, forcing him to lose his footing slightly, stumbling for a second as he sent Payback look. “Or is it strictly 100, 200, 300?” 
“I don't care what you guys do so long as you get it done.” Your tone made Fanboy shiver, you could be a hard task master when you wanted to be. “Start warming up and we’ll get this show on the road.” Bradley was quick to sneak a peck on the cheek when the group started to disperse, all except for Hangman a little on edge about what was to come. 
“You feeling alright darlin?” He cooed, walking with you over to your desk where you’d left your water bottle. 
“Your baby is the size of a pear at the moment and she's already giving me a hard time.” Neither you nor Bradley wanted to know if you were having a boy or a girl, you wanted it to be a surprise, both having made lists that kept growing with names galore. “I'm just starting to feel really sluggish, which is hard to hide when I'm usually the energiser bunny on base.” 
“Dr. Richards did say you’d need to pull back a little the further along you get baby." It was hard to accept that you would eventually have to slow down, up until about two weeks ago you had been fine, apart from the morning sickness you had dealt with in the first trimester. Bradley respected your boundaries when you were both at work, knowing professionalism in the workplace was important to you, however–that didn't stop him from discreetly placing a gentle hand atop your stomach, finding the small baby bump hiding under your work uniform. The camo green fabric warping around your naval under his palm. “But that doesn't mean you're not any less capable, just means you’re growing our little boy which in my opinion, is pretty spectacular.” 
“Just means we’ll need to tell everyone sooner rather than later Roo.” You sighed, taking a sip of your water, not knowing that Phoenix had spotted the gentle touch of your husband's hand resting on your stomach for a brief moment. Her eyes wide in shock as her jaw slacked slightly. Phoenix though, the master of recovery, disguised her surprise when you turned around to round up the gang that were all in the process of warming up in some way shape or form. “Alright, we can stagger the start for those who aren't warm enough–” You side eyed Bradley as he scoffed at you, leaving your side to join his colleagues. “
“Let's go boys and girl, we’re doing Murph baby!” Jake hollered out, clapping his hands down on Javys shoulders, pumping each other up as you laughed, a smile creeping across your face. “Bradshaw! You gonna try keep up with the big boys?” 
“Think I might taxi with Bob.” Bradley replied, jogging on the spot before giving his lower back a little twist side to side. Bob just rolled his eyes, to the untrained eye he was the kind of guy who kept his shirt on during beach days, but he thoroughly enjoyed cardio. If Rooster's plan had been to taxi with him during the mile run he was in for a rude shock, but Bob knew he was gonna lose time in the pull-up department. “You ready to go man?” 
“As ready as I'll ever be for this kind of workout.” Bob groned. “If I say I twisted my ankle now, do I still have to participate?” The group all laughed at the near winge that left Bob's mouth, he really wasn't up for this today–but what you came back with made the gym explode with boisterous laughter. 
“If you dont be careful Lieutenant Floyd l’ll pack an extra pound into your weight vest.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Phoenix saw her opportune moment to strike about half way through the first half mile. Bradley was starting to show a red hume across his face, a thin layer of sweat had started to form across his forehead and Phoenix knew that if he was focusing hard enough on keeping his pace steady with one foot in front of the other, she knew he was in no position to formulate a lie. 
“So–Bradshaw.” Phoenix started as she came up to jog beside Rooster. “How far along is she?” 
“How far along is who?” Bradley replied as he kept his head straight, focused on the marker up ahead that indicated the turn around point. Watching as Jake and Javy booked it around one another, racing ahead of the rest of the group who had all opted to taxi their way through this. 
“Agony, she's pregnant.” Phoenix spoke with such conviction that Bradley found it near impossible to try and formulate a lie that would cover up the truth of the matter. “I saw you put your hand on her stomach, and I know you wouldnt do that if she wasnt pregnant.” 
“She's feeling a little off today, little spud is kicking her around a little.” It was all the conformation Phoenix needed to let out a little squeal as she beamed at Rooster, smacking him in the shoulder. “Ow!” 
“Why would you keep this from us! Rooster! That's amazing, congratulations!” 
“We just wanted to enjoy it for a while, just us, we haven't even told her parents yet.” Bradley explained as he made it to the turnabout point with Phoenix, both keeping each other's pace. “She's four months, we don't wanna know the sex, but everything is going the way it should, doc said she’ll need to start pulling back soon though.” 
“Ah, so thats why she isn’t participating in the torture.” Phoenix had picked up on the fact you weren’t participating today, she thought it was odd that you weren't but wasn't about to question it. She was scared you'd match her attitude and give her an extra 100 push ups. “Mrs Bradshaw is knocked up.” 
“Yeah.” Bradley chuckled, he liked the sound of that. “I had to beg her not to last night when I saw the MURPH file sitting out on the dining table, got down on my knees and everything.” 
“You couldn't have just talked her out of the whole plan entirely?” Phoenix whined, starting to feel a little more puffed from talking as she jogged with Bradley. Starting to really feel herself warming up. 
“Oh trust me, I tried that too.” Bradley explained, laughing as he remembered how that conversation ended. “She seduced me just to get me to shut up.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
By the time Rooster and Phoenix got back to the hanger turned gym, Jake and Javy were already going ten reps for ten reps with their pull ups. Bob, Fanboy and Payback were just standing there, watching as they caught their breath and waited for Rooster and Phoenix to return. 
“Alright ladies, now that everyones back, there's no rest for the wicked.” You turned up the volume on the speaker you stood by before making your way over. “Lets hussle, clocks still ticking and the faster you get this done the less time you have to spend here with me.” 
Fanboy groaned as he turned to Bob, sharing a painful look of ‘I'm over this already.’ 
“How are you gonna break this up, Roo?” You cooed, coming to stand by your husband as you watched Payback and Phoenix get to work on the rig, everyone was working on their pull ups first. “If it was me i'd do ten at a time.” 
“I think I should be able to manage twenty-five at a time.” He smiled, mumbling under his breath in your ear as he leaned in to kiss your earlobe. “Phoenix knows you're pregnant by the way.” 
“What!?” You gasped. “How did she find out! You said we weren’t gonna tell anyone yet?” 
“Saw me touch your stomach before, figured it was a little sus.” Bradley cooed. “I'm sorry.” 
“No, no don't be, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” You accepted the reality, watching as your group worked through their reps, taking notice of Bob who was severely lacking in his rep range. “Floyd! Chin to bar!” 
“Yeah Bob, chin to bar.” Hangman added, laughing with that thousand watt grin he was known for. “Bradshaw! Stop trying to flirt your way out of this!” 
“That's my cue.” Bradley groaned, throwing his head back as he ran his hands through sweat covered locks. “Play nice please.” 
“Nope, hop to it Lieutenant–” You bit back, biting your bottom lip as you cautiously and ever so discreetly slapped Bradley on the arse, watching as you sauntered away with a little more pep in his step. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“I feel like my arms are gonna pop off!” Next was the push ups. Mickey groaned as he did his set of twenty as you came to kneel beside him. “You’re a vicious and cruel woman.” 
“Well I guess Agony is rather fitting, isn't it Fanboy?” you questioned through a soft laugh as you pressed a hand between his shoulder blades. “Retract your scaps, you're relying too much on your triceps, put the pressure through your chest and your longevity will increase.” 
“If i wasn't so mad i'd say thankyou.” He groaned, keeping on keeping on with his reps. As soon as he was done, Rooster started his, same as Payback. 
“Hmm, I'll take it.” You ruffled Mickey's hair, wiping the sweat you collected onto the thigh of your pants as you stood, feeling light headed as you rose too quickly. “Oh–” Your vision blurred momentarily as a slight ringing in your ears rang out, you tried to breathe through it, but you couldn't catch the feeling. 
“Hey Aggie, you okay?” It was Hangman who noticed that you were looking a little unsteady at first, but as soon as the words were leaving his mouth? You were going down. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as the dizziness from standing too quickly took over you entirely. “Oh shit!” It normally wouldn't have been an issue, but you'd been feeling a little unsteady all day. “Y/n–” Hangman was quick to move to break your fall, catching you in his arms before you could hit the ground. “Rooster! Get over here will ya?” Jake called out, Bradley hadnt seen you fall, he was too busy focusing on his push-ups. “It's Y/n.” 
“What's wrong?” Bradley asked as he stood, noticing you passed out in Jake's arms. “Oh my god, hey–” He cooed, tapping your cheek softly as he crouched beside you on the other side of Jake, the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of all the aviators you had in your gym. “Hey, darling, you okay? Open your eyes for me baby.” 
You did, slowly, fluttering your eyelids with a soft groan as you tried to sit up, still feeling dizzy.
“Woah–easy there killer, what's going on? I've never seen you pass out like that before.” Although Jake was technically addressing you, Bradley held a palm to your forehead as he pressed his lips together, watching as you struggled to focus on what was going around you. 
“She’s pregnant–” The gym went completely silent at Bradley’s major announcement. “I gotta get her to the hospital in case there's something wrong.” 
“Bradley, I'm fine.” You tried to reason with your husband as he scooped you up and into his arms, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck before he stood. “I promise, I just felt a little light headed is all.” 
“Yeah, no I don't care, we’re getting you checked out.” There was a distinct shift in Bradley’s tone, before he was playful, enjoying the workout as much as he could but now? He was as serious as ever, nothing was more important to him than you, his family. 
“Bradley, I'm in the middle of instructing a class.” Again you tried to defend the unnecessary need to go get checked out. You really didn’t feel like it was that big of an issue. “I can’t just leave? Everyone needs—“ Before you could finish, Bradley was interrupting. 
“Guys? you good?” Bradley turned around, addressed the totally stunned and flabbergasted group who just looked at him like he’d just dropped a major bomb on them. That his wife was expecting, you were gonna be a mother, and he, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw, was gonna be a dad. “You know what you’re doing don't you?” 
“Uh, yeah–” Bob started. 
“We’re good.” Payback stammered.
“We’ll be fine, just go make sure everything’s okay.” Phoenix added. 
“What do you mean Y/n’s pregnant!?” Hangman asked, standing there with wide eyes and a confused expression. Bradley didn’t respond, he simply turned on his heels and continued on his way, carrying you over to the admin building on base to get you checked out. 
“Do I need to have the sex education talk with you Seresin?” Phoenix teased. “Did your parents never give you the birds and the bees talk?” Jake just sent her a look. 
“You fucking knew didnt you?” He called Phoenix on her cool calm and collected manor. Something was up. 
“Only for like twenty more minutes than you.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“Take a picture, it’ll last long.” You pouted from your position on the hospital bed, hooked up to a heart rate monitor. Bradley sat beside you, hand in yours as he just stared at you. Trying to get a read on how you were actually feeling because he knew you weren’t telling him the truth. 
“Woah, that was incredibly rude, Mrs Bradshaw.” Bradley teased as he let go of your hand, leaning back in the chair he sat perched in. stretching his arms up over his head, enough so that the bottom of his shirt pulled up, exposing his lower abdomen for a second. An incredible sight. “I'm just doing what any good husband would do, you know, making sure your health is in top priority.” 
“I'm A Personal Training Instructor for the United States Navy.” You reminded your husband, deadpanning him as you swirled your palm across your stomach. Stupid hospital gown covering your small bump. “Uncle Sam pays me to make sure you keep your health in tip top shape, it's not the other way around.” Bradley sent you a childish lok as his snickered back at you as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Listen, I’m fine, I'm just not used to my equilibrium being so off, I got up too quick and lost my balance, I'm fine.” 
“Why don't we let the doctor be the judge of that?” Bradley sighed, leaning forward as he rose from his seat to kiss your cheek. You just accepted the loving gesture as he cupped your cheeks, swiping the pad of his thumb across your cheek. “I just worry about you, because I love you and if anything ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for not doing enough when I could have.” 
“Good thing I love you more huh?” You cooed, watching as Bradley sat back down as Doctor Richard’s entered the room. 
“That my dear, is not possible.” Rooster just managed to get his reply in before Doctor Richards smiled. 
“Well the good thing is there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with bubs from the ultrasound.” She explained as she read through your chart. “But it seems as though you’re experiencing some bouts of low blood pressure Mrs Bradshaw.” 
“Low blood pressure?” Bradley questioned. “That can just happen? Y/n doesn’t have low blood pressure?” He was right, you didn’t, but you seemed to have it now. 
“I can assure you Mr. Bradshaw it’s a very common occurrence during the first twenty four weeks of pregnancy, I wouldn’t be too alarmed as long as you manage it.” Doctor Richards addressed you as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. 
“How would you like me to do that Doc?” You asked with a sigh, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being pregnant. You did and you were so excited for your little one to arrive. What was annoying though was the fact you had been told to slow down, take things easy, enjoy the time you had with your baby. You were naturally a physically active person. Slowing down just wasn’t in your DNA. 
“Take it easy. Try to slow down a little? I understand you’re a PTI? Perhaps avoiding strenuous activity for the time being will help.” Doctor Richards explained. “Try to avoid making sudden movements, like standing up too quickly. It shouldn’t be a long term thing but for now? Monitor your systems, drink plenty of water to stay hydrated to increase your blood volume.” 
“Aye aye captain.” You groaned, saluting Dr. Richards as you slumped a little. Rooster caught onto your bad mood instantly, deciding to take over the conversation for you. 
“We’ll do our best Doc, thanks for checking up on her.” 
“Anytime—I’ll have your charts done up and send a discharge notice to the ladies at Reception.” She explained before leaving the room, giving you and Bradley a moment alone. He was silent as you walked Ike’s at him. Expecting him to say he told you so. 
“You feelings alright?” He asked softly. 
“I’m fine—just need a moment to truly process that my career is over.” You groaned, lying back as you faught of tears, it was the hormones, but not really. You just knew this day was coming. 
“What are you talking about?” Bradley asked, concern lacing his tone of voice as he sat as close to you as he possibly could. “Darlin—?” 
“If I can’t train, I can’t tell others to train. I can’t be a hypocrite.” You explained as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’ll go on maternity leave and lose my strength, my endurance, my body is already changing and I can only imagine what it’ll be like after having this beautiful baby.” You were well aware how crazy you sounded but it’s how you felt. “Bradley, I hope you don’t take this as me not loving every single moment of this because I am—“ You sobbed as Braldey held your hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m just scared of how becoming a mother is gonna affect the career I worked so hard to build.” 
“I understand baby.” Bradley tried his best to console you, he wasn’t going to tell you that none of what you were worried about was going to happen. He knew that there was a possibility it could. It had happened to other women before you and it would certainly happen after. “But if anyone can manage being a wonderful, caring mother and a fierce, incredibly talented career woman it’s you.”
“You think so?” You couldn’t help but to scoff lightly through your tears as you turned your head to look at your husband, so thankful for his every strong presence and support. 
“Honey I know so, we’ll do whatever it takes to get you right back to where you were before this little one came along.” He smiled, helping you sit up. “But let’s focus on you now? Alright, keep that blood pressure from dropping, keep you healthy and happy mama.” 
“Oh god!” You remembered the fact Bradley had mentioned to every single Dagger that you were pregnant. “Oh my god Roo, they’re gonna tackle us!” You leaned forward into your husband's chest as he laughed and kissed the top of your head. “I guess we better get back and get it over with huh?” 
“Yeah, better to rip the Band-Aid off fast than to drag it out.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
By the time you got back to base, the entire Dagger Squad was waiting back in the rec room. When you and Bradley entered cautiously, they all stood up as if they were expecting life altering news. 
“Is everything alright?” Bob asked, you never thought his eyes could get any bigger—but as he looked at you with hope filled eyes, you knew you’d been wrong. 
“Everything’s fine.” You smiled, wrapping your arm around Rooster's torso. Pulling him close as he sighed and filled in the gaps. 
“Mum and Bub are doing well, just got a little low blood pressure to manage but other than that? Everything else seems to be just fine.” Everyone went quiet, all silently thanking the heavens above and those in it that nothing major had occurred. Until Fanboy said what everyone was thinking—
“Can we go back to the part where you’re pregnant and didn’t tell any of us?” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**
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derangedangel · 11 months
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Killer Duo - Isaac Lahey
Summary: Lydia’s throwing a Halloween party and your costume coordinates with Isaac’s
Isaac Lahey x Reader
Word Count: 1,591
Author’s Note: Apparently this was in my drafts in 2019 and I finished it in 2020. Why it never got posted, I’m not sure. The timing of this is funny cause I’m currently at work dressed as the character Isaac is dressed as. Anyway, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy Halloween!
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“Lydia, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since I was 12,” you said walking around looking at all the creepy Halloween decorations.
“And this is a costume party. You have to dress up or you can’t go,” Lydia replied walking in front of you heading straight for the costumes. 
“I have no idea what I should be. And most Halloween costumes for women are sexy now, which really means they’re short and inappropriate, and I am not doing that.”
The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even looked at any costumes yet and your already jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m just pointing out facts. Halloween used to be fun, then I grew up.”
“And now you’re at the age where you can dress up again,” Lydia smiled at you. “There’s just no candy this time.”
“So what’s the point,” you joked.
“Just come on,” Lydia said grabbing your arm pulling you towards the superhero costumes first. 
The two of you began to look through the racks of clothes. You ran a mental checklist of everything that wouldn’t work for you. 
Batgirl? No.
Iron Man? No.
Elastigirl? Hell no.
“Oh, what about Wonder Woman,” Lydia asked holding up the iconic armor for you to see. 
“Ehh,” you said fidgeting on your feet, “I don’t feel comfortable having my ass out.”
“Okay,” Lydia said sighing at how difficult you were making this. She stood next to you scanning the the other costumes in the superhero section and decided you were going to like any of them.
“What about a witch,” she asked.
“I guess I could be that,” you replied halfheartedly.
“No, I don’t want you buying something you don’t love. That’s the number one rule in fashion.”
“Lydia, why don’t you just look for your costume and I’ll find mines. I don’t want you to keep pulling outfits and I hate them all.”
Lydia turned and faced you. “Honey, I bought my costume weeks ago. No one is going to be wearing the same thing as me at my own party.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Duh, I should have known you already had your costume ready to go.”
“Yes, so this trip is all about you, my dear,” Lydia said tapping you on the nose making you smile. 
“Fine,” you replied. “Well, let’s go look at something a little more spookier then.”
_____________
“Barbie, eat your heart out.”
Lydia walked up behind you in the mirror and nodded. “You look good.”
“I look killer,” you laughed and Lydia smiled shaking her head. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror admiring your white dress, leather jacket, and combat boots. You grabbed your eyeliner pencil and added the final touch. Tiffany’s mole. 
Perfect.
As soon as you saw the Bride of Chucky costume, you knew you needed it. Lydia was just happy you didn’t go with Chucky so you didn’t mess up her bathroom adding all the wounds and fake blood on your face. 
About an hour later, the party was well under way and you already made your first rounds with Lydia. Now she off doing other hostess duties and you were people watching against the wall.
You saw Isaac across the room and smiled to yourself. You excused yourself through the crowd as you made your way across the room.
“Hey, Isaac. Nice costume,” you greeted, looking up at the tall burette in front of you. Well, he wasn’t brunette right now. He was wearing a red wig and a pair of Good Guys overalls. You snickered to yourself. Of course the guy you had a crush on would be dressed up as Chucky. He was basically the salt to your pepper.
“Thanks,” Isaac said, a grin lining his face. “And you are a... biker bride?”
You looked at Isaac confused and shocked. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“What,” Isaac smiled confused at your response. “Should I know who you are?”
“Yes,” you said laughing. You gawked at him as you held up your plastic bloody knife and pointed to your “Tiff” necklace. His eyebrow furrowed in confusion.
“I’m Tiffany...”
Isaac shook his head still lost.
“The Bride of Chucky...”
“Sorry. Still don’t know who that is.”
“Oh my God. Isaac, how are you dressed up as Chucky but don’t know who Tiffany is?”
Isaac shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t planning on wearing a costume, but Lydia said I had to, then showed up to Scott’s house with this.”
You shook your head, laughing to yourself. “Of course she did.”
“Am I missing something,” Isaac asked wanting in on the joke.
“Lydia knew I was dressing up as Tiffany and she made you be Chucky... we’re basically a couple’s costume.”
“We are,” Isaac asked, his eyebrow raised and smirk slowly growing on his face.
“Uhh, I- I mean sorta,” you replied fidgeting where you stood. “Especially, now when we’re standing next to each other.”
Isaac took a step closer to you. “So I guess I better keep you close then.”
You’re eyes grew big but before you could response you were interrupted. 
“There you two are,” Lydia said walking up to you and Isaac. Her blonde ponytail wig bouncing with each step she took. She definitely was the only I Dream of Jeannie here. You doubted if most of the party even knew who she was, but they all knew she looked good. “Well don’t you look cozy together.”
“Lydia,” you said a little too sweetly for anyone’s liking. “I hear we have you to thank for Isaac’s costume.”
“What,” Lydia asked like she didn’t basically have you and Isaac in a couple’s costume. “I couldn’t have him come to my Halloween party not dressed up.”
“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed crossing your arms over your chest.
“Anyway, everyone’s outside so we can take a group pic before anyone is too intoxicated to do it later.” 
“Lydia,” Stiles yelped running up. “Oh, hey guys,” he said waving to you and Isaac. You smiled and waved back before he began talking to Lydia. He was dressed up as Captain Tony Nelson, the perfect couple’s costume to Lydia’s Jeannie. “Um, so, I may or may not have gotten my Captain’s hat stuck on the roof... okay I definitely did. But it was Scott’s fault!”
“Seriously, Stiles,” Lydia fumed. “God,” she whispered under her breath shaking her head before turning to you. “Give it about ten minutes before the picture so I can get his hat down.” 
You laughed nodding your head. “Okay.”
The couple walked away, leaving you alone with Isaac. “Um, I’m going to go get something to drink. See you outside in ten?”
“Yeah,” Isaac said, giving you a slow and sexy smile. 
You turned and headed for the kitchen, letting out a long breath as you did. Isaac’s whole existence was driving you crazy. Although you did like the blue eyed boy, and you’ve been wanting something to happen for a while, he was making you incredibly nervous. You’d rather avoid him instead of potential embarrassing yourself. 
After you filled your red solo cup with the fruity punch being served, one of your classmates came up to you.
“Hey Y/N, cute costume.”
“Thanks!”
“I didn’t know you and Isaac were a thing.”
“Huh,” you asked confused.
“The couple’s costume,” they said hesitantly. “Chucky and Tiffany.”
“Ohh, duh” you said to yourself when you realized. “We’re not dating. We just happened to wear costumes that went together.”
“Oh... well, the two of you look good together,” they said shrugging then walked away.
All your friends were already outside ready to take the picture. Lydia handed her phone to the designated photographer, then went to stand next to Stiles. Scott was in the middle, with Kira next to him. Malia was next to Kira, while Stiles and Lydia were on the other side of Scott. You stood next to Malia, throwing your arm over your friend’s shoulder. Isaac stood near Stiles. 
After two pics were snapped, Lydia went to check the photos. She grabbed her phone, then looked up at the group. “Somethings not right...,” she said out loud, thinking to herself. “I know!” She grabbed Isaac by his arm and pulled him over to where you were standing. “That’s better. You’re costumes go together, so it makes sense,” she said smiling. She mumbled a quick you’re welcome to you before she handed the camera back over and went back to her place next to Stiles.
The person taking the pictures counted down “3, 2, 1,” then snapped a pic. But before you got to one, Isaac grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. You shrieked in response then started laughing. 
“Okay, now a funny one,” Scott yelled so everyone could hear. 
Isaac didn’t hesitate, quickly picking you up bridal style. You yelped, then immediately stuck your tongue out at him. Lydia’s phone flashed as the picture was taken, then everyone stopped doing their poses, but Isaac didn’t put you down.
You giggled before you spoke. “You can put me down now, Isaac. The picture’s over.”
“I said I should keep you close. So that’s what I’m doing,” he said smiling down at you in his arms. “And besides, if we’re next to each other people will think we’re a couple, so no guy will ask you to dance.”
You titled your head to the side, your eyes squinted slightly. “But we’re not a couple.”
“Give it a few weeks.”
Your mouth dropped in a silent gasp, slowly turning into a huge grin. You heard Kira giggling behind you and Stiles’s “yuck.”
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motorsport-halloween · 2 months
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MOTORSPORT HALLOWEEN FEST
👻 Celebrate the best (spookiest scariest sluttiest) holiday of the year — open to all motorsport RPF writers, artists, creators, and fans!
👹 ao3 collection
💀 join the discord
⬇️ INFO & FAQ
What kind of creative/artistic works are allowed?
Any and all! Fic, art, zines, moodboards, gifs, edits, playlists, meta — if it’s motorsport RPF and Halloween-themed, it’s welcome!
What counts as motorsport?
If one of your main characters can be tagged under a motorsport fandom (e.g. any of the Formulas, IndyCar, MotoGP, etc.), you’re good!
What counts as Halloween-related?
Halloween-related can mean full-blown horror (serial killer in the paddock!), spooky (haunted car?), or, if that’s not your vibe, about Halloween more generally (Halloween is the one day a year when a driver can dress up like a total slut 😏). We’re happy to have you whether you turn your favorite driver into a friendly ghost or put them in a Saw trap.
Please just be sure to warn/tag your work appropriately, and please archive lock your fic if you're posting to Ao3!
Do I have to post to Ao3?
No! If you’d prefer, you can also post on tumblr. Just be sure to tag us @motorsport-halloween so we don’t miss it!
How do prompts work?
Anyone can leave a prompt on Ao3, but you don’t have to claim a prompt to participate — you can do your own thing and then post to the Ao3 collection or to tumblr when it’s time!
When is my fic/art/other work due?
Sign-ups and prompting will open July 15 so everyone has plenty of time to create! Completed works will be posted October 15-31 — the mods will reach out to participants at the beginning of October to schedule posting, so that we can have two full Halloweeks of fun!
How do I post to the collection?
Instructions are here!
Can I invite my friend / mutual / discord server to participate?
Please feel free to invite anyone in the motorsport RPF fandom (as long as they are 18+!)
What if I realize I can’t finish/need more time?
That’s fine! No worries if you need to drop out or need an extension.
What if I’m still confused?
Send us an ask on tumblr @motorsport-halloween or DM one of the mods, @powerful-owl @racecrafting or @officialmood!
OTHER TIPS
The @motorsport-halloween tumblr will be posting prompts and Halloween vibes for inspiration! We won’t be posting anything wildly disturbing, but we will use the following tags to be on the safe side: tw: blood tw: body horror tw: trypophobia
If there’s something else you’d like us to tag (within reason) please send us an ask or DM one of the mods! We want everyone to be able to participate, no matter your comfort level with the more horror-y aspects of Halloween!
The Ao3 HTML script can be found here
If you’re posting to Ao3, make sure you change the date from the date of your draft to the date of publishing!
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packsvlog · 2 months
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 ⁽ ༒ ⁾  ── 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄 !
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⎯ the common occurrence of seeking refugee in the cold is to be stopped by the burning presence of him, ryōmen sukuna. sharing your secrets amongst the night and the heat, you both learn more of each-other.
𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬 ⎯ modern world!sukuna ╱ change of his plot ╱ characters are aged up ╱ mention of anxiety and blood ╱ reader is a killer ╱ actually fluff ╱ reader has no gender ╱ swearing ╱ suggestive at the end.
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⎯ this was supposed to be smut but i got too involved in sukuna’s plot, so the smut is delayed. sukuna is less of a menace and more of a pissed off twin/older brother. there is a curse!sukuna in my drafts that i’m yet to finish, so if you don’t like ooc you can wait a bit, but give this a chance, ‘cause he was actually nice to write and develop. @emilyywhyy ♡
𝐰𝐜 ⎯ 2.8k
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Burning chest is a common symptom you have in the presence of Ryōmen Sukuna. One could admit his red eyes shifting intensely to whatever movements you make are the cause to the warm.
The man had always been hidden away in his own place whenever you stayed over. You didn’t blame him, you didn’t tried to make him stay. If anything, you understood. Having his home flooded with four newly adults, all talking loud and laughing like their lives are on the last minute could be difficult — you had always gone away after a few hours, squeezing through the apartment window to reach the terrace and get your energy back.
It’s a routine by now, to laugh and talk and to have you retiring towards the cold breeze of the evening. Dull eyes getting enchanted by the city’s light, soft sighs scaping your lungs, opening space for new energies.
Behind you the window displayed, like an old television, your friends sitting on the sofa, Yuji throwing popcorn at Megumi, accidentally hitting Nobara and soon, he is to approach her and remove the food from her orange hair. It’s makes you smile to see them happy.
Still, you can’t return just yet.
This feeling it’s like miscalculating the steps of a stair while walking down, when you expect to have one more and somehow, the floor greets you. You close your eyes, tense shoulders and gripping the edge, feeling eeire and…burning.
You sense him before his strong scent is brought to you by the wind — car leather seats, expensive whiskey and iron. There is, also, that smell you can never recognize, maybe it’s just something in him, his whole belonging.
Sukuna’s hum makes you look at him, and the male is already by your side, cigarette in his lips and eyes avoiding yours, he stares ahead. The lights in the night, yellow and white from apartments and neon colorful from stores mix perfectly to his face, to his spiked recently dyed red hair. He hums again before shifting his face to you.
“What are you doing here?” It always takes you by surprise how deep his voice can go, but it never scares you. In fact, for you, Sukuna sounds like music. “It’s cold.”
“It’s not cold anymore.” You bite your tongue after saying this, while his face turns into curiosity. “It’s getting warmer now.”
“It’s not.” Sukuna throws the cigarette down from the roof, not caring for any passerby. “It’s still cold, and you’re just freezing as well.”
“I’m not going inside, Sukuna.” You shake your head letting a sigh scape again. “I need more…recharging?” He stares at you as if he is about to tell you how pathetic you are, but goes against it.
“Makes sense.” He moves nearer the edge, resting his arms and closing his eyes, much like you were earlier.
“You don’t have to stay.” You catch yourself saying. It’s seems that in Sukuna’s presence you have no filter for the words leaving your mouth, your attention much more occupied admiring him.
“I’m not staying for you,” liar. “they also drain me.”
Like instinct, you look back at the window, catching the sight of your friends all eyeing the two of you with curious eyes and knowing smirks.
“How can we drain you, if you always stay in your room?” You follow his movements, resting your arms and being by his side. Too close that any more and you’ll find what’s the scent of Sukuna you can’t point out.
“Just the knowledge that I have four assholes in my living room gives me headache.” There is a hint of humor in his voice that makes you smile. “And your voices, laugh, everything it’s so loud. Even if you whisper, is like I can hear.”
“Then, I’m never talking shit of you again.” Sukuna snorts at that. “Or any secrets, for that matter.”
“Your secrets are safe with me.” You both are even more closer, you come to realize, when he moves his head away from the view and into your personal space, you can’t help but move a bit closer. He smiles and open his mouth.
“HEY LOSERS!” A shout comes from the living room, making you both jump apart and stare behind, where Yuji’s upper body is on the roof, already trembling with the cold. “GET INSIDE, WE WANT PIZZA.”
“How is that my — our problem??” Sukuna asks, voice much calmer than his brother, still he is clearly annoyed.
“It’s your money we are using, dipshit.” Yuji yelps when Nobara pushes him back, saying something along the lines of “you’re ruining their moment.”
Sukuna sighs, fingers on his nose bridge.
“C’mon, I can tell you my secrets later.” You grab his hot hands, intertwining with your cold ones, and both of you walk inside the warm apartment. Back to your giggling friends and his short words filled with a bit of stress.
Many hours later, you leave the warm of Nobara’s arm under the fluffy covers on the floor you both shared, standing up quietly and moving to the kitchen with quick steps. It’s a lie to say you are just going to grab a midnight snack and go back to Yuji’s room, instead, you stay on the couch hugging your knees and staring at the window.
Today, of all normal days, you had been more drained than before. Maybe is the past coming to greet you and bringing along their company, anxiety.
You remember the first time you met your friends and Sukuna, how he was nothing more than a boy cursed to be a second vessel to the same monster that shared him and his brother. Unlike Yuji, Ryōmen had less of a control, and his grumbling and short temper had come from his hate towards the past and what he did.
Sukuna has tainted hands with blood, and though most people don’t blame him anymore, some still do and they have tried to get their revenge, or simply take his life, fearing the evil might come back. The monster is long gone, but the aftermath remains touching all of you unwillingly, and Sukuna might act as if nothing happened, but you see the effects.
Sometimes, like the beginning of this week, you are send in special and secret missions regarding Sukuna’s safety, he doesn’t need to know that there is two groups of people trying to come for him — one that wants the curse back and those who want him dead. It’s something you, Geto and Gojo agreed on. It’s scary, it paints your own hands in blood, but it does feel good to look at him going inside his room and know that for one more day he is safe.
This week you almost lost both your life and his ─ they were too close. You managed though, but the fallout was this constant fear, the longing to be outside the apartment and being hugged by the cold of the night.
As soon as you got up and opened the window, you heard quick steps behind you, a large hand coming and closing it. You turned around, and Sukuna’s red eyes looked pissed.
“It’s even colder at dawn, are you dumb in the head?” He goes away, towards the kitchen, while you sighed already missing the view and breeze behind you. Knowing it’s not worth a fight, you moved to the couch.
“I just needed some air.” You mumble.
“Listen, I get it, but the only thing you would get it’s not air or solution to whatever you’re going through, instead hypothermia would bite you in the ass with those pajamas.” At his words, you stare down at your hello kitty pajamas, the soft material would had you freezing the second you stepped outside, even inside the living room you started to tremble a bit.
“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking.” You whisper back, staring ahead at the turn off television. You could look anywhere, minus him.
Sukuna, though, seemed to not want that. More minutes of pure silence and he came near, in his hands two mugs, he gave you one and sat by your side. The steam reaching your cold face was nothing compared to his body heat by your side, it was soothing and it made you want to crawl inside his arms and sleep.
It was no secret of you affection to him, but it was also not something anyone dare to talk about, him much less. Besides, the only time this devotion ever come to the surface, was with Nobara a few days ago, in this same place, on the couch, exactly 4am.
“Do you—“ Your words die when you drown them with the hot chocolate, the burn numbing your tongue for a few seconds of silence where his eyes are on you, solely. “—do you really listen to anything said here?”
“Sometimes.” Sukuna answers, sipping from his own drink. “It’s not on my control, it just happens. Like right now, I heard your breathing and moving to the window, and that’s how I came.” He closes his eyes for a second, before drinking again. “Very rude, by the way, I was about to sleep and you walked like a horse galloping.”
“I’m sorry.” You whisper back, avoiding the constant need to look at him.
“You own me a secret.” He says out of nowhere, making you nearly choke on your beverage. You face him, confused. “You told me that you would give me a secret later, remember? I want one.”
“No.” You answer right away, moving to set your empty mug on the coffee table before incredulously laughing at him. “What’s in it for me? I don’t trust you.” It’s a lie, you do trust him, but your secrets as of recently had been paired with his name in red ink, he could never know.
“I tell you one of my secrets.” That’s something.
Sukuna has always been a secretive guy, although he had no control of the curse possessing him, the male still hide it better than his brother. What you could say about Sukuna was his favorite color (red), his disdain for your friend group and that he one day planed to go on a years long road trip that you have kept him away from. Until everyone that wanted him was six feet under, at least.
“What secret?” You ask, body turning on the couch to face him, your knees resting on his thigh and instantly burning up all the way to your cheeks.
“No, you tell me first, and I’ll tell you right after.” He shakes his head, a smile forming on his lips.
“How can I trust you?” Are you seriously debating it?
“You just have to.”
Your options are few, you are an open book, there is only two secrets you hide from Sukuna. The one that you became a killer because of him, and the one that you are in love with him. He could hate you, could be offended by both. The always so prideful Sukuna would burn this building with rage if he knew what you do, as if he was an unprotected person.
Should you take this opportunity to know him more, one you sense no one has ever come closer, or that he wouldn’t grant you ever again. It was in the cold living room with his warm burning eyes and presence you weighted your options.
“I might have a romantic affection for someone we know.” You half tell him one of your secrets.
“Who?” He asks right away, soft eyes replaced by sharp ones.
“Doesn’t matter, you tell me now.” You tap his thigh.
“Fine, if you’re breaking the rules, I’ll do it as well.” Sukuna clicks his tongue, a sarcastic smile plastering his face. “I know something about you, that you have been hiding.”
Fuck.
“Was it what I just told you?” Couldn’t be, he just asked who, but he could also be playing a game. Sukuna can get cruel like that.
“Can’t say,” the smile grows larger. “give me one more secret, a full one.”
“Promise me you won’t burn anyone in this building.” Your voice catches you by surprise, you couldn’t be seriously accepting to lay your bare self to him, could you?
“Is it that weird neighbor that gives you his morning papers puzzles?” Sukuna disgusted face makes you laugh, and he follows with a snort. “Or is it my brother? Sorry, love, you should know he is already invested in Megumi.”
“Is none of them, Kuna!” The nickname slips from your lips before you can bite it, if he notices he doesn’t show, but the point of his ears are growing red. So cute, sometimes he reminds you he is not an old grumpy cat, but just a boy, from your age, who has been through too much. Sure, if he wants, he can bring the whole city to the ground, but in this moment, finishing his hot chocolate in a spider-man mug and leaving it next to yours, he is just your Kuna. “It’s—you, I like you.”
Time doesn’t stop like you expect it to, but Sukuna does stop moving, like a statue. Almost comical if it wasn’t terrible how simply you confessed. Fuck, you confessed. Reality drawn in you when you feel his thigh under your knee burning more and more, so you remove it and sits normally, staring again at the black television.
“Fuck.” He says, and you close your eyes for a second, fearing the inevitable rejection. “I thought it was going to be the other secret.” From your peripheral vision, you see his messy hair shaking. “I’m not complaining, but I needed you to say it.”
“What are you talking about, Ryōmen?” You look at him, elbows on his knees and head on his hands, he turns back to look at you.
“Ryōmen? Dumbass, I’m Kuna to you.” You nearly laugh with the shocked feeling he gave you. “I— Fuck, listen, I know.” He moves closer, burning you with his body heat, yet you adore the hotness of it, so you move closer as well, you both facing each other. “I heard you with Nobara, yet when you admitted now, it still took me by surprise, not much people can do that, but you keep trying and succeeding.”
Sukuna grabs your hands and move to his lap.
“I reciprocate your feelings. Weirdly, I can handle your loud voice and laugh, and I don’t mind spending my money buying food if it’s at least what you want.” He caress the back of your hand, sometimes grabbing it more. “I know of your little ritual to recharge on the roof, and I know it takes just minutes, but you stayed more and I had to see you, make sure you’re okay.” Sukuna moves his hands to cup your face, the heat in his eyes marking your soul. “And I know that it’s all because of me.”
You gulp the uncertain and fear of what he meant, instead of words, your scrunch your eyebrows at him. Please, you silently beg, don’t mean what I think you do.
“Don’t look at me like that, stupid.” He shakes his head, eyes quickly moving to your lips before going up again. “I know what you’re doing, trying to keep me safe. I admire you for it, but you can’t keep doing this, you understand? It’s my fight, has always been, you’re breaking yourself and your soul for me, and I can’t have it.”
“But…” you stop his rant while moving your hands up to his neck. “…it’s yours. My soul it’s not breaking, if it’s keeping you safe, then it’s only growing stronger, Kuna.”
“You’re stubborn.” He shakes your head softly, as if it can make you change your mind. “No more fighting alone for me, okay? I’ll be there, all the way, every time.”
At your nod, Sukuna lunges at you, moving his hands to your neck and kissing you roughly. It seems he was as starved as you, both craving the other in ways never once reached or talked about. Wether it was true or not, had you been bending and corrupting your soul for Sukuna, you would keep doing it, if only it meant this was always going to be the result in the end — be kissed by his hot lips, keeping away the cold of the night that once soothed you. You realized, in that moment, fire has always been more of your choice than ice.
He was perfection in the way he kissed you, with bites and the wetness of his tongue, Sukuna used his strength to move you both to his room. He had you now, exactly where you both are meant to be. You had loved Sukuna for being safe is his room, and soon realized that you were one more addition to his sacred space.
No one, no men with evil intentions or hearts filled with hate could ever come near him, you made sure of that, and glued to his body, being devoted like a saint, you knew your fears would vanish with the winter, for that one scent he had, always a secret to you, came to your senses after more hours under him — Sukuna smelled of ashes and smoke, ready to burn whatever stood in yours and his way.
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lipglossanon · 5 months
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Gloom
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!
not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not
title from Gloom by Djo
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor. 
You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest. 
You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—
“You need another drink?”
The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter. 
“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim. 
“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.
“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.
“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.
“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”
“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”
You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”
His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”
Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks. 
Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger. 
“Miss me?” 
You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom. 
“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”
Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him. 
“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”
You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick. 
“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump. 
“And?”
He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”
He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him. 
“What did you use?”
“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”
Your eyes narrow and he laughs. 
“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”
He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement. 
“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”
“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”
“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”
“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him. 
“There’s something wrong with me.”
You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown. 
“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”
His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”
Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully. 
“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”
“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”
Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.
“Do you want help?”
He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth. 
“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”
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chaoticbardlady99 · 9 months
Text
I Triple Dog Dare You (Astarion x F!Reader) (Part 2 to Pinkie Promise)
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CW: Angst, mentions of trauma, mentions of sexual trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of parental death, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of voyeurism
Both titles have been inspired by the song ‘School Nights’ by Chappell Roan
Dedicated to @amica-aenigmata-naboo - thank you for demanding a part two 😂
Part 1: Pinkie Promise?
✨this has been proof read once and I have been awake and working since 3 am. It is not 10:04 pm. Please help✨
You finish your letter by folding it into thirds and then writing ‘Star’ on the back. You take a deep breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth- reminding yourself that you already know he likes you back, you are just taking that last extra little step. You also can’t attempt to write this letter again- this is your 8th draft, the others turning into flames in your hands very quickly.
You want to ask Astarion to be in a serious relationship with you. You have only been seeing each other (as far as you know) and you’ve spent almost everyday sleeping with him in his tent since you had ventured into the Underdark. Most of the time- you don’t even have sex. You stay up talking together and sharing soft kisses- no clothes, just intimacy. You adore those moments immensely.
Life around camp has also been good- everyone is finally beginning to get along. Shadowheart and Lae’zel even silently respect each other now. It feels like one big happy family and you are grateful for them when this whole journey feels far too big and scary.
Recently, you and your crew have been playing an ongoing game of “Triple Dog Dare”. The only rule is you can’t dare someone in the middle of a battle or a serious mission. Otherwise- it’s all fair game and if you decline to do it, you have to take the darers’ guard duty or help them with a chore. The chores were limited to one task and it can’t be taking down a whole tent + equipment- the one time Astarion had to take down Gale’s tent had been disastrous. The dare had been to allow Gale to take you on a date- Astarion shot back with a “I triple dog dare you to swallow my fucking knife wizard.” All parties (minus Astarion) agreed that this dare was not to be followed through on.
The game has had… less than favorable results. Watching Wyll and Karlach streak across the camp while you were piss drunk was awful. Oh and the time Gale almost died because Wyll dared him to spy on the two of you for 20 minutes. You hadn’t heard his thoughts, but Astarion had. His head had shot up from between your legs with a furious look in his eyes. Astarion had covered your naked frame up quickly with his shirt (his trousers still on) and chased after Gale until he pushed the man into the freezing Underdark water.
The group then had to make a few more rules people didn’t realize they had to make. In Gale’s defense- Wyll didn’t specify and Wyll is a real snob about which chore he gives the person. It’s also the worst chore and usually includes de-stinking his boots. You are almost positive Wyll does this on purpose as repayment for all the headaches this groups’ shenanigans has given him-oh and the horns.
Karlach triple dog dared you today to finally confess your feelings to Astarion. You had gawked at her and then dared her to do the same with Dammon. You shook on it and it was done.
Finding out that Astarion’s life is in far more danger than any of them had realized shook you to your core. You are tired of wasting time being afraid to ask him what you already know (or at least hope you know). You are silently grateful that Karlach has given you the push you needed (you doubt she would have actually made you do anything- she wouldn’t put you on blast like that).
It just never felt like the right time in the past. Having your life be in constant danger is kind of a romance killer and you aren’t sure how the hell you are supposed to do this.
Do you court him? Do you ask him to court you?
You ultimately settled on just flat out telling him your feelings- politics be damned. It’s not like you were welcome in High Society anyway.
Now you are in the safety of Last Light Inn and it feels like the right time to bring this up. You worry that waiting any longer will result in him looking for someone more serious or maybe you would always just be a person he slept with during the journey to his freedom.
You hope you are more than that and you are almost positive you are. The way he looks at you, kisses you, and talks to you is so genuine- his eyes are always so soft and so are his lips. He protects you and you protect him. You adore him and you think he adores you too.
So naturally, walking up behind him and Shadowheart talking isn’t a nerve wracking endeavor to you. This is all going to go off without a hitch!
Or so you thought.
Your ears twitch and you barely hear what they say to each other, but you do. Gods you wish you hadn’t.
“You are insufferable, Cleric.” Astarion groans, “I already told you my answer.”
“Oh please- you follow them around like a lovesick puppy. You can’t honestly tell me you have absolutely no feelings for them.”
Shadowheart takes a long sip of her pint and raises an eyebrow at him. You remain in the shadow- your heart thumping out of your chest. Maybe he’ll say a lot of wonderful things about you? Maybe your hopes will be-
“Nope, not a single feeling outside of my carnal desires,” he says nonchalantly, “that’s all it’s been and they know that.”
Oh.
You feel all the air leave your lungs as you crumple your letter and shove it in your pocket. You don’t know why you insist on listening further.
“Then I triple dog dare you to go talk to someone and take them to bed. You will have no problem bedding that Harper who keeps giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes- I’m sure.”
Oh please no.
“You offend me- that’s hardly a challenge,” he says while standing up, sauntering over to the Harper that is eyeing him.
You promptly turn around and hurry out of the building. You can’t breathe. You should have known better.
You had always been Tav the Guillable, the Plain, the Insufferable, etc, etc. You had been thrown at your aunt and uncle when your parents passed. Your aunt and uncle lived in a nice Human only city and you are a ‘filthy half-breed.’
One of the boys in your Archery class found out you had a crush on him so he asked you to meet him by the river. You showed up with wild flowers for him- something your mother told you Wood Elf’s do to show affection. He showed up with your entire class- all of them laughing at you for being stupid enough to believe he liked you and then his future partner beat the shit out of you before throwing you into the rushing water. You wished you hadn’t survived, but a nice family who was tolerant towards Half breeds saved you. Your Aunt and Uncle were pissed. Admittedly, so were you.
They treated you terribly- constantly trying to marry you off to old men who you would turn away with your boorish behavior.
You really thought you had it right this time. Everything felt so natural and right- like you had been made for each other. What did you not pick up on? What did you miss this whole time? How could you have been so blind?
You pick up your bedroll on the way out- you were all going to sleep on the floor of the inn with the rest of the Harpers and Refugees, but you couldn’t pretend you wanted to be near Astarion like he does with you. You aren’t ready to confront him- you aren’t ready for the pretty illusion to be completely shattered and swept under the rug yet. You were just getting used to being someone he loved and now the whole world is crumbling underneath you.
It was barely anything- obviously- so why does it hurt this much?
You find yourself in front of Damon’s metal shop and he’s talking to Karlach. You clear your throat and they both look at you. Karlach suddenly looks concerned when she sees the look on your face.
“Could I sleep above your shop tonight?” You say with a strained voice, “behind the hay? I just… need to be alone.”
“Sure thing- it’s all yours.”
You smile gratefully at him and begin to climb up the ladder.
“Do you want me to tell Fangs, Soldier?”
You can hear the question in her voice. She is your best friend after all.
“No- please don’t,” you smile at her sadly, “I would prefer he doesn’t know where I am.”
Karlach nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, and you go behind the hay and lay out your bedroll. It smells like him and you don’t know if that’s helping or hurting at this point, but you are mostly too tired to care.
Your heart hurts as you try to find sleep. You throw the crumpled note across the little loft and silently begin to cry.
At least you knew what it felt to give and receive love- even if it was false and unrequited the entire time.
*****************************************
Astarion is barely present for the conversation with the Harper male who is trying to impress him into bed. Astarion is only thinking of you and how much he wants to get this over with so you can find a more secluded spot together. Every morning to every night feels like far too long to wait to have a tender moment with you.
Astarion imagines leaving lingering kisses along your collar bones and your cheeks. He thinks about how he desperately needs to rebraid your hair. It’s been frizzy and unruly from all the fog- the baby hairs sticking out all over the place. He also needs to patch up your armor again- your Meilikki Cleric Armor ripped apart from the events of yesterday.
Mostly though, he wants to spend the off day tomorrow with just you. Astarion wants to find somewhere to hide or even just rent a room so that you can just be in each other’s presence un interrupted by the world. Astarion’s heart glows at the thought of the sexless intimacy you share. He’s so happy it’s not a priority to you- it’s allowed him to do things at his own pace and as he wants to which is very freeing to him.
Astarion had finally admitted to himself that his plan had well and truly failed- he has fallen for you very hard.
He doesn’t know what possessed him to lie to Shadowheart. He mostly just didn’t want to be pressured to leap forward. Astarion isn’t sure if you want to be something real with him and he also doesn’t know if you are hell bent on being a proper noble woman who marries a proper noble man. It would break his heart if you rejected him and Astarion has no desire to feel that way. For now, Astarion will bask in his peaceful ignorance.
The Harper man eventually scowls at Astarion and tells him to fuck off if he isn’t interested. Astarion goes back to Shadowheart with an annoyed look on his face.
“Fine- you win, Cleric,” Astarion scowls, “I have feelings for them. I couldn’t even give that man a moment of my attention because I couldn’t stop thinking about them so if you will excuse me-“
Shadowheart squeals in delight and Astarion rolls his eyes. Astarion walks around the entire inn and property- you are nowhere to be found. Astarion is beginning to become more and more worried. Astarion is pacing out front when Karlach and Dammon come up to the Inn- ready to hit the sack.
“Karlach,” Astarion says, a bit more panicked than he means to, “where is Tav? I’ve been looking for them everywhere and I can’t find them!”
Karlach looks suddenly uncomfortable and like she definitely knows where you are.
“Karlach if you know where Tav is-“
“I do!” She says exasperated, “but they specifically asked that you don’t know and I don’t blame them! You gonna go fuck them and pretend to have feelings for them again for the billionth time?”
Astarion is stock still and horribly confused. What in the hells is she talking about? Karlach shoves a piece of crumpled paper into his hands and shakes her head at him.
“You know- if you are going to fuck with someone’s feelings,” Karlach tries to keep her patience, “maybe don’t pick the nicest person in the room. Honestly Fangs- fuck you. I thought you were better than that.”
Astarion is at a loss for words- which is very rare for him. He slowly unfolds the note- hoping it might put some of the pieces together.
Star,
I have really come to enjoy your company and our time together.
I am quite smitten with you and I’m too nervous to say this out loud, but I would like to be able to call you my partner (in a romantic sense)- if you return my feelings, that is.
If not, no worries. All I want is for you to be happy.
-Tav
The pieces click together like a haunting tune.
You had heard everything that was said between him and Shadowheart. Obviously you didn’t stick around for the important part, but Gods you must be heartbroken.
Astarion has to assume you were hiding somewhere in Damon’s shop if Karlach is the one who knows where you are. He had been avoiding the shop initially so that Karlach could have her privacy with Dammon. Now it’s fair game.
Astarion quickly walks towards the shop and as soon as he enters- his ears pick up your quiet sobbing. Your thoughts are loud and unguarded- his words playing in your head over and over again. You are wondering why you aren’t good enough. Astarion finally sees what you have refused to show him- your parents are long gone, despite the fact that you talk about them as if they are waiting for you to come home. Your Aunt, Uncle, cousins, and an entire society have rejected you, humiliated you, and belittled you. This just happens to be the salt in the wound. You keep looping through the thought of how stupid you are to have missed this of all damn things. How could you even begin to think he would actually want you? Plain, boring, ugly, half-breed Tav.
Oh my Darling, what have I done?
Shadowheart had been teasing him relentlessly ever since you had all arrived back to the safety of Last Light Inn. You had led them all to support Astarion in finding out more about the scars carved into his back. It had been incredibly dangerous and Shadowheart had had to heal him more than usual- he kept putting himself between you and every bomb, warrior, etc. He wanted her to stop- he likes the privacy of his little world with you.
Now he’s demolished that world and your heart in less than an hour. Astarion was actually nervous earlier- realizing how deep his feelings for you are and how much he wants something real with you. He just isn’t close enough with Shadowheart to share those feelings out loud willingly. Astarion is thrilled that you feel the same way, but now he isn’t sure he can convince you that his feelings are genuine and not a giant lie.
Astarion slowly makes his way up the ladder and he hears your sobbing stop- one single sniffle occurring before silence.
“Darling?” he asks quietly.
The air is tense and Astarion feels more nervous than a school boy with a crush. You hiccup.
“Astarion.”
Your voice is strained and cracks- he can hear the effort you put into trying to make your voice sound steady and normal.
You are definitely not happy with him. You usually address him as Star when he first arrives in your orbit.
Astarion takes it as a good sign that you are at least willing to speak with him.
“It’s come to my attention that you may have overheard a conversation without context and without staying until the end,” Astarion says slowly, “I was hoping you might let me explain myself.”
You sit up gingerly, your head bent, and look up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen- you often worry it between your teeth when you are upset. He doesn’t like when you are upset, but he does love how incredibly delicious it makes your lips look. Your skin is under a veil of tears and your cheeks are stained pink from you rubbing away the sadness from your face. It’s unfair how beautiful a crier you are.
Astarion decides to go against his better judgement and he crawls towards you. You look at him with a guarded expression, but you don’t fight him as he pulls you into his lap- his fingers moving the hair out of your face and wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.
“Shadowheart was teasing me for being… overly concerned with your safety today,” Astarion begins, “I just didn’t want to- her and I aren’t close enough for me to-“
Astarion huffs in frustration and looks down at the floor momentarily before making direct eye contact with you. He decides to use the tadpole- maybe showing will make more sense than explaining.
Astarion shows you his original intentions of manipulating you- his musings over your beauty, but your aggravating naivety and the annoyance at your persistent kindness. He feels you flinch a little, but your body begins to relax against his as you watch his feelings change. Astarion lets you see all of his jealousy, confusion, fear, and adoration for you. He even lets you see his turmoil during sex. Astarion enjoys himself with you- more than he’s ever enjoyed himself with anyone, but the self-loathing and disgust pose a challenge during intimate moments.
Lastly, Astarion shows you how scared he is to lose you. He lets the feeling consume him and he feels like he’s a rope ready to snap at any moment. His mind wanders to how much he doesn’t ever want to have to miss you- the beautiful moments you have shared together and how much joy you have brought to his life. You make him want to be a better person- well at least in your presence. Astarion would do just about anything for you.
You press your forehead to his and release a relieved sigh. Astarion pulls you in for a deep, tender kiss. The kiss is needy, but not in a sexual way. Astarion needs you to know that he really does adore you- his affections are absolutely not fake.
He finally has to pull back to let you breathe and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You make me so so happy, Darling,” Astarion whispers tearfully, “I really don’t want to lose you.”
“Star, I adore you for all the sentimental reasons,” your eyes sparkle as you look at him, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Astarion tries not to show how relieved he is, but the way his shoulders slump gives him away.
“We don’t have to have sex, you know,” you say quietly, “I can wait until you are ready. I want you to be happy and feel loved more than anything.”
Astarion is surprised by the choked sob that escapes his lips- pulling you in closer.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Yeah well,” you pull back and smile at him, “I triple dog dare you to prioritize your wants and needs first!”
Astarion rolls his eyes at you and tries to hide the grateful tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You are his most favorite person across all the planes. He is so grateful for you, your patience, and how much you try to understand him so that you can support his healing from centuries of abuse.
“Cheeky pup.”
You grin widely, “the cheekiest.”
“Hmmm well,” Astarion slyly smirks, “if we are going to play this childish game…”
You pout, jutting your lower lip out. Astarion places a chaste kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.
“I triple dog dare you to be something real with me.”
Astarion’s nerves are going haywire- praying to every God he can think of that you still want to be serious with him.
Your smile could light up the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands. You give him a short sweet kiss on the cheek and A kunik*.
“Dare accepted.”
*A kunik means nose kiss in Inuit
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kxlitz · 1 year
Note
omg love your writing its so GOOD
do you think you could do some more headcanons about growing up with devilsh
np if you cant have a good day or night ❤
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★ Growing up with Devilish & Being Tokio Hotel’s 5th member ★ pt.2
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AN: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE !!
I decided to merge the requests because they overlap with one another and simply work. I hope this satisfies you !! I’m writing this as a part 2 to my first « Growing up with Devilish/Tokio Hotel » post since it just works!
Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking,sexual themes touched non explicitly, that’s about it. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about
≛ This is set in 2003 til 2005 right before the release of ddm as it deserves it’s own post.
~ Enjoy your read ~ (not proof read I’m sorry I had to get smth out of the drafts)
Bill was so excited to land that Starsearch audition, he came running to your house once he got the confirmation.
It’s 8pm on a school day and there’s a frantic Bill knocking at your door.
Or window, if it happens to be on the first floor.
I love the idea of your room being on the first floor, that way the boys can sneak in for silly night-ins discussing about the future of your band or watching some disney movies on your VHS player.
Or sometimes you’d sneak in beer, weed, all that good stuff that 12/13 year olds should not be doing but you did it anyway.
Your bedroom was a hideout and safe place, especially for Bill who found so much comfort in you.
The days following to Bill’s audition were spent practising his singing and putting up a killer outfit that would shock everyone.
Not many people had faith in him, but I’m sure you were certain he’d make it.
So when a letter got home after a few weeks saying that he was amongst the best 16 in the country, you sticked out your tongue and middle finger up to the other 3 boys. “I told you so”
When it came the time to interview the band for Bill’s section of the show, you guys knew you’d have to be your best.
Bill helped out picking your outfits for sure. You needed to look cool for the camera. Maybe this would be a breakthrough moment?
You even got to do Georg’s hair, much to his annoyance.
It felt glorious, there was a television team in Loitsche and it was just for you guys. You were the kings of the town for a few hours.
Charlotte, the twins’s mom allows you to come with her to the show. You were so excited to see Bill onstage! (The fandom knew Mami Kaulitz as Simone but she legally deleted that name and only kept Charlotte) (from now on I’ll only refer to her as Mami Kaulitz though)
Once Bill came on stage you knew he was meant to be there, and you dreamed for your band to be able to shine like this by his side.
You were clapping and singing along so happily, the crowd loved him.
The same can’t be said about one particular judge.
When Bill lost he came running into your arms. Poor boy was destroyed. You only had a couple minutes to gather his things and leave so while his grandma comforted him you helped out Mami Kaulitz at getting everything together.
Standing awkwardly by a crying Bill, his grandma and a bunch of strangers while waiting for his mom to finish talking to the host is definitely not your best memory.
Needless to say the ride back home was silent.
Everyone was so proud of Bill nonetheless.
In the following weeks you guys mostly practiced your melodies with the band and tried out new riffs. Bill was quite depressed and refused to get out of his house.
Not even a new outfit, new song or a cool Barbie doll could convince him to get out.
You would physically have to get in and drag him out of bed by his ankles.
Once you yanked him too hard and he fell right on his butt, knocking his head while at it. Tom was wheezing in the back while you tried to help Bill up, avoiding to burst at his misery.
Bill has always been arrogant, so the loss on Starsearch was a big bruise to his ego. You would have to help him rebuild his self-esteem.
Dressing him up prettily and doing his makeup.
Bill would imitate your makeup techniques, he finds you fascinating.
This is how his iconic black eyeshadow look was born.
Overtime it all got better and you guys went back to the routine.
In a way, you’re the glue that sticks everyone together in the band. For sure you’d be a pillar the boys rely on.
Whenever things don’t seem to go the right way you tend to climb on the rooftop and just talk the night away with Georg. You two can have the longest and brightest (sometimes not so) conversations man has known.
Back to the “storyline” Starsearch was not useless in the slightest. Bill’s voice, the band’s rogue look in the interview and the angelic beauty of one of it’s members caught a talent scout’s attention.
Sometime between 2002 and 3 you guys had recorded your Devilish demo, that along with Bill’s appearance in the show had gained you some newfound popularity in town.
Things were still hard but, at least they knew those five losers had talent.
It was a hard and exhausting process til you guys finally signed with Universal. But! Before you could record an album, you all needed some proper training. So during the summer holidays you were accommodated into an apartment with everything you may need.
Now imagine an apartment with 5 young teens living by themselves.
Gustav was in charge of the cooking because if anyone else touched the kitchen you would burn the place down.
Tom has managed to burn water. Do not trust him.
We all know Gustav is a total chef now, but back then let’s be honest.. he could make instant ramen noodles and sandwiches. So most of the time you guys settled on ordering junk.
You guys had sleeping arrangements but it never stopped you from all ending in one room playing video games til the late hours of the night or drinking til you passed out.
Nowadays you guys sometimes cringe at everything you were doing at such a young age.
Parties were strictly forbidden in the apartment so you would all sneak to the nearest park to raise hell. There were no parents to run after you and barely any surveillance around. You guys were free.
You once got so wasted that on the way back home Georg crashed somebody’s window. You still wonder how you never got caught.
There were nights that the place would get so cold that you all ended up as a pile when it came time to sleep.
You didn’t stay like that all night though. You’d wake up coddled against Tom’s leg on the floor as he took up the entire couch. Georg was sprawled on the bed, Gustav rested on an armchair somewhere and Bill made himself a blanket cocoon.
Bill and you still have a very special friendship, so some nights you would both get into the blanket cocoon in the living room and watch some vhs tapes of Nena, Queen and Bowie’s concerts.
Oh and Titanic, for sure. Bill loves the film.
He confessed to you that he was crushing on both Rose and Jack (Bill actually said this)
If you happen to also be in the lgbtq community, you’re in for a queer ride when watching films with Bill.
ESPECIALLY, Labyrinth.
You washed Georg’s hair in the sink once. You never talk about it.
The five of you are oddly comfortable around one another so there was no shame in that.
Nor in walking around barely dressed, making the grossest jokes and acts and being complete degenerates.
The fact Bill mentioned in his book that they’d collectively jack off still haunts me to this day.
You just let them be.
Or join if you’re drunk enough, you be you bestie.
You’re not excluded from the after hour porn binge watching though, that’s like watching the news for you bunch of hormonal brats.
Anything totally inappropriate for your age aside, the five of you have such a beautiful bond. It’s amazing to watch you go.
Of course the twins are a step ahead, but it doesn’t change the fact that as a band and as friends you’re so connected to one another.
You can have more than one soulmate, and the five of you are linked together for sure.
Ok i’m being cheesy.
I’m sorry but Tom was the type to ask you to make out to “practice”
He likes to snatch your bras (if you wear them) and mock you while holding it against his chest.
“Georg next time you take a big shit open the windows and spray there’s a lady living in here” “Look I’m y/n and i’m the best musician in this band” “Pull up your pants you looser”
In return, you have hit him with a bra. How is you weaponize it? I have no idea but you certainly did.
Gustav and you were always the ones to do groceries because if you let the other ones do it, they would come back with anything BUT groceries.
A new turtle for georg, king sized box of condoms, cigarettes, a kiss the cook apron, supposedly haunted doll they found in the trash and a pack of hot wheels toys.
Gustav might be the dad yet it doesn’t take his chaos away from him. He chased you guys around the apartment with a water gun screaming like a madman.
He drums on bowls while cooking it’s cute.
You genuinely had the time of your lives.
But you can’t forget that you were located there for a reason.
Writing music.
Turning this into a series! I’m honestly way too into this idea not to cover the band’s evolution in it’s entirety. The inclusion of this fifth member is genuinely very fun to write and brainstorm about! I’ll mostly write them as the rhythm guitarist as it’s logically the easiest position to sneak into the band. As well as I must say that I am definitely more comfortable writing afab readers but no worries I can and certainly will do male reader <3
See you ~
- Meryl <3
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ieatkeyboard · 11 months
Text
Luxiem Boys Reacting to You Getting Your Period 2
Warnings: AFAB, Nicknames Beautiful/Gorgeous, bLERRRRRD(Blood), Suggestive at the beginning a little more than suggestive on Ike's. I'm just emptying my drafts so idk- Have fun
SHU: He slowly caught his breath as he moved a stray hair from your face. "I'll be right back, Gorgeous" He came back with a pad/tampon, a red cold cloth, a hot water bottle full of warm water and some pain killers. "I saw it on the calendar and I could tell it started, I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel embarrassed. I love you" - He gently cleaned you off and kissed your thigh - He sets down a red towel for you and cuddles up - He's patient with you and makes sure you're comfortable - The wood swings? He's just kinda bleh, He's not sure what to do other than let you vent about it
IKE: "Lovely..Oh my..Fuck that feels amazing" He groaned, kissing your collar bone as he hovered over you. You ran your fingers through his hair till you felt it. You started to panic and shoo your boyfriend off you. You looked at your bed and groaned. "I knew it. I KNEW it would happen." Ike looked at the bed and it clicked "Ohhhhhh, I see. Well..I don't mind continuing if you want. I heard an orgasm helps with cramps". YES: - He keeps going, making sure to be gentle and to compliment you tons. - He kisses you tons and finishes on your stomach, which is followed by more kisses. NO: - He nods and takes his glasses off the side table before kissing your forehead. - "It's okay, Beautiful. Let's get you cleaned up." Back to the ending: He helps clean you up. He gets you some clothes and you two order food before he forces you onto the couch. He puts the sheets in the washing machine and joins you on the couch to watch a movie. - I also feel like he puts his hand on your stomach when you get cramps, for emotional support - He is constantly asking if you're okay and if you need anything - He handles mood swings well, if you're upset he acts like you're an imposter ("Woah, who are you and what have you done with my love?! Give them back this instant!") which is typically followed up with hugs and kisses. If your crying he'll be there, give you kisses and back rubs, etc
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radioisntdead · 5 months
Note
Not the sender for the original ask but I'm sorry I cannot help but imagine an alternative where the reader summoning Rosie is the most angsty teen ever.
They're imagining the stereotypical giant red demon with goat legs and horns- but instead there is just a pretty lady and Rosie is CONCERNED because there is a teenager in the attic of their house summoning demons, not because of any normal reason but because whatever could a child need a demon for? Do they need help? Auntie Rosie will help!
Summoning a demon but instead of taking your soul you just get adopted. If you take this seriously (you don't have to) add as much angst as you wish.
Good evening my dear! Sorry this took forever to get out! It got buried in my drafts
I added a knockoff slasher dude solely to murk the reader because, I don't know as a plot for death?? I don't remember my thoughts when sleep deprived I'm so sorry
Anyways Auntie Rosie supremacy,
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Rosie & reader
Platonic
Warnings!!
This isn't my best work, it was written late at night when I was mildly delusional, death, stereotypical slasher dude, OOC
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You were home alone, sat in your dark and gloomy attic surrounded by lit candles, a book you had stolen from a shady book shop was open in your hands and you had drawn a summoning circle in red paint from the dollar store.
You took a deep breath before reading out the incantation written in the book, fully prepared for something grotesque to crawl out.
Wind came forth swirling around you as the circle glowed, the sound of the wind was almost deafening, you could feel your sweater clinging onto your skin, each loose thread itching your skin
You tried your best to ignore it as you continued chanting as something rose from the circle.
Once you had finished the spell you shut your eyes as the wind winded down.
"Oh my! You're quite young aren't cha'!"
Your eyes opened as you looked up, instead of some grotesque creature with blood and horns hanging off of it, was a lady,
Her skin was gray, she was dressed in early 1900's fashion and her eyes were pitch black, like a endless void.
"Are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit there with your mouth open catchin' flies?"
She said with an eyebrow raised.
"I, shit, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting someone so pretty? I was expecting more-"
"Well aren't you a charmer! Allow me to guess, You were expecting someone more demonic looking?"
You nodded, "Yeah,"
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly,
"Well aren't you going to introduce yourself?"
This felt like a trap, what if giving your name to her would give her control of you like a fae? Probably not, but what if it was?
"Likewise, it's a pleasure! You can call me Auntie Rosie!"
"I'm [Name], nice to meet you?"
"Auntie Rosie?"
You weren't expecting the creature you summoned to be a pretty cannibal named Rosie, let alone for her to adopt you as a surrogate nibling, telling you to call her Auntie Rosie and nothing else.
She had to leave soon after you summoned her because she had 'overlord duties ' and 'A town to run' but she told you to summon her again soon.
And so you did, the next time Rosie tutted at the messy attic, saying that you should tidy up the area more if you were going to invite guests over, she asked you to grab some cleaning supplies.
You snuck down into the hall, leaving Rosie alone for a moment, you were as quiet as a mouse as you tiptoed past your sleeping suspected serial killer of a godfather, managing to make it to the kitchen to grab a few cleaning supplies and a broom before sneaking back.
Rosie hummed as she began moving boxes around, shaking her head at the amount of dust and other things that littered the floor.
"I'm back, I got a broom, dustpan, and some Clorox wipes," you say as your head popped up from the entrance,
She said taking the broom,
"Good! Now let's make this place suitable, this much dust is horrible for your health! Horrible!"
You nodded, placing the remaining objects onto the floor and carefully picking up the boxes.
"You organize those pesky boxes dearie, I'll start sweeping."
The attic completely changed from gloomy to more refined within the day.
The boxes were stacked up forming a small wall with some free space behind it, the floors had been swept and sanitized (aside from the summoning circle) the candles were replaced with fresh ones, that book that summoned her was placed on one of the boxes.
Rosie had gone back and asked you to summon her back within the hour, bringing back some furniture with her.
She brought a smallish table, two fancy looking chairs, and a rug.
Rosie said as she sat in one of the chairs you in the other, drinking tea, you didn't know where she had gotten the tea from or when it got into your hands.
"Now that makes this place far better, far far better don't you think?"
You didn't like tea all that much but it felt rude to not drink it.
You wondered if it would kill you as you took a sip,
You glanced around at the open space, honestly it was overdo, you had been sleeping in there for a couple of years now and hadn't gotten around to it.
"Yeah, it feels less stuffy for sure,"
"As it should, now that's settled why did such a lovely young lady like yourself want to summon a demon?"
She asked setting her teacup down, getting straight to the point, you choked on your tea, clearing your throat you looked anywhere but in Rosie's void-like eyes.
It was silent for a few minutes,
"It's a long story, but basically parents went missing, moved in with my Godparents, Godmother went missing, Godfather started being suspicious, pretty sure he killed them, can't prove it and I think I'm next." You said in one large breath,
"Well shit, I wasn't expecting that, that's a very messy situation,"
"Auntie Rosie dearie."
"Yeah it is Miss Rosie,"
"Sorry Auntie Rosie."
You sat in silence for a moment, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, did she believe you? Honestly you didn't particularly believe it yourself it was all suspected.
The attic felt gloomy again once Rosie left, you were once again left alone.
"Would you like me to eat him?"
"Par- Pardon me?!"
You let out a sigh before moving to one of the boxes pulling out a throw blanket and covering the circle, no one aside from you really came up there but couldn't hurt to be cautious.
You moved to the small space behind the boxes, you open another box pulling out a few two sleeping bags, layering them onto each other and placing a pillow on it, opening yet another box you pulled out a thick blanket, you laid on the sleeping bags, curling up into it and closing your eyes until sleep came for you.
A routine began, you'd carry on like normal, going to school, working shady part-time jobs, shoplift storage safe foods at large corporations like target, and go home before your Godfather finished work, sneak back into the attic, and depending on the day summon Rosie.
Rosie was concerned to say the least, you were young, not even a proper adult yet, and you were summoning cannibals in your Attic!
Not to mention how causally there was a whole missing people who were probably was murdered thing going on, would more detail go into that? No.
Rosie truly became an Aunt to you, bringing you trinkets, hyping you up, asking if you wanted her to eat your Godfather, after all that is what you originally summoned her for, but you didn't want to risk getting moved to a different area and having to redraw the circle to summon Rosie, what if you do it wrong? What if you never see her again?
So she didn't do anything to him, listening to your decision.
You would sometimes steal or buy something you think she'd like, and give it to her during her visits, she'd typically adore it whatever it was, because it came from you!
The two of you would have tea, give each other updates on life, and the afterlife.
It was nice, but like all nice things, it unfortunately came to an end.
You ran up the stairs, throwing your backpack at him to knock him down the stairs as you pulled out the attic ladder and hurriedly climbed the ladder up before kicking down the ladder to the attic, like a slasher protagonist, you hastily moved a few heavy boxes over the hatch.
He came home early, and when you walked inside the house to sneak upstairs into your attic, nothing was said, so it was concerning when he grabbed his murder weapon of choice and bolted off after you.
You just needed to summon Rosie and everything would be alright, they couldn't hurt you if Rosie was here,
You shakily pulled out the lighter that stayed in your pocket as you heard your Godfather shout your name, banging on the entrance.
Lighting the candles you scrambled to sit beside the circle, closing your eyes you began the summoning.
The wind began pushing as per usual,
The banging got louder, you could hear one of the boxes fall,
Just a few more seconds, and Auntie Rosie would appear, just a few more seconds and you'd be free, free from this lunatic, you could get a proper job that wasn't suspicious, probably go to collage, make proper friends that you could tell Rosie about with pride, you could give Rosie gifts that weren't stolen or cheap.
Just a few more seconds that's all you needed.
The hatch flew open, his eyes widened, no words were spoken, you didn't even get the chance to defend yourself when the murder weapon of choice, which was a machete because of course it was, stabbed into you.
Rosie appeared, smile dropping the moment she saw you on the ground, blood leaking into the Attic floors, the attic that she had helped you clean up, that she spent time with you in.
Rosie's eyes locked onto your godfather, bloody machete in hand, her mouth opened, revealing her razor sharp teeth.
Blood was splattered across the walls, Rosie wiped blood from her mouth with a handkerchief before kneeling down next to you and gently lifting you up into her lap,
Your eyes were glossy, and blood covered you.
You smiled up at her as she gently brushed away the hair from your face.
You tried to sit up but couldn't,
Rosie rubbed your back, trying to make you comfortable, unsure of what she could say to soothe you, you were dying and she could do much to stop it.
"Yes [Name]?"
"Auntie Rosie?"
"I,-" you take a painful breath, your last word privileges being revoked
"Shh, it's alright don't strain yourself, Close your eyes and rest dearie."
She said pulling you closer, rocking you gently in her arms until you breathed your last.
The door opened to the empty Emporium, Rosie sat in a chair writing down a grocery list,
"I'm sorry but the emporium's closed now!" She shouted over not looking up from her list.
"Auntie Rosie?"
Her head snapped over, eyes filling up with tears as she saw the very child that had died in her arms months ago, the child that she had adopted as her own, standing in her emporium with a nervous smile on their lovely face, the child she cared for had ended up below with her.
"[Name]? Oh my stars! my dear [name]!"
She got up from her seat, rushing over to embrace you, wrapping her arms around you as tears gathered up in your eyes.
"I missed you Auntie Rosie."
"I missed ya too Darlin', now-" she broke the hug and held your shoulders
"Let's get you settled in shall we? Are you hungry? I think we have some leftover pinkie fingers."
"I forgot you were a cannibal."
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Rosie had prepared you a room, far better than the attic, because it was a legit room, with proper insulation.
You were staring in a mirror taking in your new appearance when Rosie knocked on the door,
"Sweetheart may I come in?"
"Sure! Come on in''
Rosie walked in and placed papers in front of you,
"Be a dear and sign these please"
"is this a contract for my soul?"
"Close! It's adoption papers, sign them."
Good evening folks, I crave sleep, also my apologies this was requested ages ago and I just now got to it, hope you enjoyed even though it's messy, I just killed off the reader the angst isn't that angsty
I wrote the angst first then everything else
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jojo-oliver · 1 year
Text
How to tumblr for artists… my own version
A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone
~~~ your posts ~~~
!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.
~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.
queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.
~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.
When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:
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if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.
here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:
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these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.
~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~
fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.
here's some random graph from google images:
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please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....
this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.
it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.
~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~
Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:
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I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3
~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~
tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.
if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".
I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.
you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.
~~~ have an art tag ~~~
make your blog easy to search!
if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(
to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.
I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.
~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~
!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.
This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!
I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.
I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post
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crazypsychonerdstuff · 6 months
Note
Excuse the extremely detailed request, but if you are ok with it, could you do a Black Hat x reader oneshot where the reader is a demon/eldritch abomination similar to Black Hat and they work for him and they both have feelings for eachother but neither of them say anything for a long time and it eventually takes reader getting injured in some way for him to confess to her?
For some background to where the idea came from, My horse pushed me over the other day into a patch of nettles and they stung my hand and arm pretty bad and I had a reaction that meant I needed to get antihistamines from the doctor because it was so bad. while I was recovering, I was struggling to do everyday tasks as the grip in my hand was affected, and I kept dropping stuff and not able to grip thinklgs like door handles properly! It got me thinking how would our favourite eldritch horror react if the person he secretly cared about was injured? Not enough to put them out of action completely, but more just an inconvenience that was affecting their day to day life?
I also remember thinking at one point "what if he kissed it better? Like, his kisses literally made it better? eldritch saliva having healing properties or something?" Idk. It popped into my head and it seemed like an interesting concept at the time!
Sorry if this is too detailed or weird! You don't have to write it if you don't want to! I just don't see many active blogs that write for Black Hat at the moment!
-🍉
Oh no! Hope you're feeling better now! Bad horse!
Sorry this is so late btw... it's been sat half finished in my drafts since before Christmas! 😱
Hope this will suffice! It's been too long since I've written anything other than headcanons!! I think the extra detail and context actually helped me write this, so thanks!
CW: mildly suggestive? If you squint? Thought I'd mention it just in case. Eldritch abomination licks your hand. So if that makes anyone uncomfortable, I guess... 🤷
Anyhow, without further ado:
CRASH!
That was the fourth time you'd dropped something today. Luckily though, it was almost time for you to retire from your cleaning duties for the night, but before you had chance to pick up the dropped items, Black Hat growled at you, his fangs showing in a vicious snarl. "What's wrong with you?! you're being even more of a klutz than usual."
You growled back, not intimidated in the least by the other eldritch creature. "I hurt my hand earlier, but what do you care?"
Black Hat huffed and rolled his eyes, his voice becoming softer than you though possible for him: "Why didn't you say something? What did you do?" he put his pen down and turned to face you fully; 'was he actually implying he was going to listen to me?' You thought in disbelief.
"I fell in some of those damned 'killer nettles' of yours when I went out to fetch something." You snarled back, fangs showing slightly in agitation, though any malice remaining in your voice no longer directed at the other Demon but at yourself for your own clumsiness.
His face dropped, the remainder of his malevolent snarl transforming to a look of pure worry, something that looked unsettlingly foreign coming from him: "You bloody idiot! Why didn't you tell me? Those things cause paralysis, you're lucky you're not human, or you'd likely be unable to move for days at the very least. You could be dead!"
You were taken aback by his clear concern, thoughts rushing through your head 'Was he alright? This wasn't like him. Was this even Black Hat sat in front of you right now?' You looked at him not quite sure what to say or do. "Sir?"
"Come here. And don't call me 'sir' when we're alone." His voice was quiet, and despite maintaining his usual air of confidence, the eldritch being refused eye contact, instead looking to the papers on his desk.
"But Si- Black Hat..." as if you were not already confused, his lack of spite really threw you off guard.
"Just come here, will you?" he held out a gloved hand to you. "I just want to check the damage it's done. I'm not going to bite you." If you didn't know better, you'd have said that a small smirk played on his lips at that last comment.
Hesitantly, you took a step toward him, reaching out your injured hand to rest it in his outstretched one. The moment your hands came into contact with each other, he gently pulled you over to where he was sat, the suddenness of the movement causing you to lose your balance and fall into his lap.
Black Hat grinned. "Not so bad, was it? Now, let me see the damage." He turned your hand over in his own, which was surprisingly warm. You'd always imagined he'd be cold for some reason...
You breathed an internal sigh of relief when his attention was no longer on your face and instead on your hand, for by now, you were certain your face had become a shade of red to rival a tomato.
"It could have been a lot worse, but luckily for you, your reactions seem similar to my own. Without treatment, it should return to normal in a few days." he looked back up at you after assessing the damage done to your hand, "but..." and he paused, bringing your injured hand up to his lips and softly kissed the stinging wound.
If you weren't blushing before, you sure as hell were now. 'Who was this man? And what had he done with my boss?' You thought, a mild panic seeping into you at the out of character display of affection.
Ok, so it was no big secret that you had a crush on the other demon, so needless to say, you quite enjoyed the affection he was practically showering you with - for him at least - but it still seemed wrong, or at least a little off; this was not like Black Hat at all.
You opened your mouth to speak, only to shut it again, unable to form words as his forked tongue slipped out to gently lick the stinging red patch covering the palm of your hand and part of your wrist, all the time maintaining eye contact. Despite the embarrassing position, you were beyond grateful for the fact that you were sitting down as you was positive that, had you been standing, your legs would have given out the moment his lips touched your skin.
"... But, with the appropriate remedy, it should be better by tomorrow morning." The eldritch creature smiled, actually smiled - not his usual malevolent, twisted grin - at you. "As you know, to lesser beings, an eldritch being such as myself's saliva is positively lethal, but to a creature of a similar nature, it has rather potent healing properties." The eldritch's arm around your waist tightened slightly, pulling you back against his firm chest.
"Black -" your voice was barely above a whisper, too stunned to say much else.
He purred quietly next to your ear in response before nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "You have no idea what you do to me, my dear."
his quiet voice, along with his breath fanning over your burning skin, sent pleasant shivers down your spine, and it took all of your willpower not to lean back and melt completely into his warm embrace. "wha-what's got into you, sir? Are y-are you feeling alright?"
"Never better, my love..." He hummed, leaning his chin on your shoulder. "I regret not telling you sooner, it's been torturing me since you came to work for me..." he paused for a moment as if considering whether to actually tell you or not. "...I love you."
those three words stunned you into complete silence. what had Demencia put in his coffee?!
"Sir... I-I'm not sure what is wrong with you, but you are not yourself... I think maybe I should get Flug." not that you didn't like the attention you were getting from your boss, just that it was not like him at all and you were by now convinced that somebody (Demencia) had somehow gotten him drunk for some terrible prank.
"Look, don't get Flug there's nothing he can do. It is true that I love you and I have ever since you came to work for me..." it was Black Hat's turn to avoid eye contact. "I know, you find it hard to believe, and so did I for a long time, but I guess flug has his uses after all, as it was his slip up that gave me the confidence to finally confess." The eldritch abomination suddenly didn't seem so terrifying to you. In fact, he seemed, dare you think, quite sweet.
You finally gave in and melted into his embrace; "I love you too, Black Hat." You brought your hand up to the side of his head and tilted your own so that your lips met his own.
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mikeyss1ut · 2 years
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I have a idea for Amber and fem reader. They have been dating for two years and everything that happens in scream 5 but everyone suspects reader is the killer because she has not been attacked by ghostface. And before they found of ghostface they accuse reader saying that she’s ghostface because she hasn’t been attacked. And Amber goes I know after you said that and shoots Liv. Then I’m the kitchen scene Sam Gale and Sidney try to attack Amber but reader steps in front to protect her. They are all shocked but reader says oh no I’m not part of this I knew what they were doing but I don’t want you hurting my gf. Reader knows about Amber being ghostface and her plan with Richie but Amber wants her gf to stay out of it. And can you make reader Sam and Tara’s younger sister a few months younger then Tara? And go from there? You can change it up if you need! :) love your stories btw
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“WE CANT HAVE IT ALL NOT ANYMORE”
“Ok! So , y/n just expose yourself and say it’s you because we all know it’s you!” Mindy says
“Mindy cut the shit , it’s not her. Amber hadn’t been attacked or Liv so fuck off.” Tara replies
“So? Livs to dumb to kill anyone. And Amber well.. actually?” They all turn to Amber.
“Oh my god, are you kidding me? It’s obviously liv!! Why the fuck does she have blood on her hands!” Amber yells
“fuck you Amber! I’m not the fucking killer ! It’s your fucking girlfriend!!” Liv screams
“I know it’s not you. But I know it’s not her either.” Amber pulls a gun and shoots her right in the head.
You knew. You did but it still hurt.
Everyone ran.
“Y/n! Let’s go!” Tara said
You weren’t ghost face you didn’t hurt anyone but your weren’t leaving. You just gave her a sad look.
“Oh god” Tara cries and runs away.
Amber had practiced with you that when she revealed herself you were to go hide behind her. You did just that.
But then Sidney started beating your girlfriends ass and you didn’t like that.
You wanted her to stop , so you don’t know why you did it . You went in front of her.
“Stop! Please stop!” You yell at Gale. Amber pushes you out of the way to make sure your safe.
And you don’t know why you did it . It’s not like you were gonna actually do it. But you grabbed the gun Amber dropped and pointed it to Gale.
“It’s you? The other one?” Gale said confused
“N- n- no! I it’s not me! But just please stop !” You cried just then Sam must have came up behind you because you fell , you must have hit your head to. Because you woke up in the back of the car. Ambers car.
“We did it! We killed everyone! You distracted them! “ Amber said.
“Tara? Sam?” You whispered loud enough for her to hear it.
She went quiet.
“Sams dead. Tara’s not.” She moves and you see Tara in the back with you she’s not taped up or anything, she’s bawling her eyes out but she doesn’t seem like she’s really scared either.
“Figured you could keep this sister, but if she does something stupid I will have to kill her.” Amber says
You shook her head and went over to her.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” You asked Tara. You weren’t mad you didn’t want her to do anything you wanted it to be you and Amber till the ends of the earth you were just confused.
“I already lost Sam, I get to keep you. I don’t want to lose myself . So I’m just gonna listen. “ she says blankly.
THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR DAYS I WILL PROBABLY RE DO IT LATER BECAUSE ITS TERRIBLE BUT I DONT REALLY CARE ITS NOT FINISHED EITHER I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WRAP IT UP BUT I FIGURED YALL CAN FEED OFF THIS FOR A MINUTE ITS ALSO POOR WRITING BUT I HAVE BEEN IN A WRITING SLUMP SO IDC
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Are you planning to publish any more books in the future? other than the God Key, already finished that :D
Yes :)
Though I don't have a complete first draft of either of the next ones yet. I have a lot of projects up in the air which means that it can be slow going on any one project.
Contenders for up next, depending on what I finish first, are:
Totally WIP/not really posted anywhere...
Moonlight Drowning - girl trying to rescue her sister from a fairy king (probs king, dithering on changing to a queen), appetite, desire, I'm thinking dark romance fantasy vibes.
Say Yes - my initial idea was a fluffy contemporary ace YA romance. But honestly, I'm not a fluffy person, and I might veer adult instead. We'll see what happens.
Then there is all the Patreon stuff. These are probably the closest to actual novels at this stage.
Adrian and Demarion - gay pirates, so help me god I want it done at this stage. It's been lingering on my to do list for far too long and it's driving my nuts!
For Kingdom, Come - dark fantasy gay royal romance??? Magnus and Leo. Idk. Good prince gets captured by evil prince. Shenanigans. Currently sitting at 48,000 words. Nearing the end. It's definitely in the last act now.
The Forbidden Section - weirdly fluffy/angst/ust romance about a Dark Lord (Eiran) and the scholar the dark-magic obsessed scholar (Akira) who he blackmailed into being his apprentice. It's primarily a romance with a sprinkle of magical school/chosen one plot. Currently sitting at 52,000 words. Over halfway through. Maybe beginning of third act?
The Birthday Gift - a novella about a villain's nonbinary sidekick (Absolute Zero/Zee) who gets giving the hero (Evolution/Jason) as a birthday gift. Story spins out from there. Currently sitting at 25,000 words. Nearing the end.
Cheating Death - human (Sebastian) walks in on his human lover (Kristian) cheating on with a vampire (Ansel). He finds out that he's secretly been their mission to protect all along, because he has magical blood that can cure vampirism. Plot shenanigans and polyamory to follow. Currently sitting at 37,000 words.
And that's not getting into the WIPs that are currently sitting on my abandoned/needs serious re-work pile.
Double Exposure - f/f serial killer thriller. The first few drafts are finished, but I'm not 100% happy with it. Needs a lot of work still.
The Forever Girl - a middle grade novel about a girl (Maeve) who becomes best friends with Time after her dad dies. I think I need to spend more time with children if I'm ever going to finish that one. It's outlined and the first draft is 75% written haha.
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