#im so sorry these answers aren't as interesting as they could be

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[botanyshitposts]

Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.

So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.

All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!

Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs

There are so many plants out there!

ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.

when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??

what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.

another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.

i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.

case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.

another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol

finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.

anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):

[normansnt]

As a thank you.

(Vox x bar tander!Male reader)

Warnings: Violence, reader gets beaten up and they take out your eye m sorry:(

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That, annoying fucking son of a bitch" cursed to himself Vox as he walked down the streets of hell to find a bar he could go to.

Sure he had his private bar in his flat but he needed to get away from Val and Vel.

He was just too fed up with their arguments and yelling he needed to get out.

He felt like trying a new bar tonight so he looked carefully at every one of them. When he looked into one of the last ones at the end of the road he looked behind the bar.

He liked what he saw, he saw the bartender.

He sat down on one of the bar stools and you went to him immediately.

"What can I get for you sir? You seem done with today." You commented lightly

"You guessed right, and I'll take whatever is the strongest." He answered trying to sound just a bit alluring. A one night stand with the cute bartender was just what he needed.

"A shot?" You asked back. "Thats the strongest we have"

"I'll take it, but only if you drink one with me" answer the TV back flirtatiously.

You raised your eyebrow.

"All right but only one." You answered while you filled up two very small shot glasses with a light blue liquid.

"Aren't those glasses a but too small?"

"Thats how strong it is its not advised to drink it in bigger portions." You lightly smirked at him.

"Well than, to shitty day" he raised his glass you raised yours and you both drank it.

This was only the start of the night. He kept requesting that one shot to the point where he was so drunk he was about to sell his company to your boss.

You couldn't just stand there and let him, your boss was a horrible person, 'Im way to nice to be in hell' you thought to yourself.

"Excuse me Mr.Vox someone is looking for you, they are waiting outside." You said loudly to get him out of the situation. Your boss was glaring at you with an intent to kill and you knew you'd regret this later, but Vox was nice to you and thats a very rare experience if you work as a bartender in hell.

You lead Vox outside of the bar.

"Huhh...nobody's waiting here" he said slurring his words.

"I know but you have to leave sir, I think you had enough tonight." You said as you kept glancing at the door to see if your boss would come out.

"Shut up, pretty boy I don't take orders from no one not even from someone as cute as you." He chuckled and than he fell into your arms.

"Sir? Sir wake up" but it was no use, you heard him snoring.

"Fuuuck" you couldn't just call a taxi to bring him home, every idiot would take an advantage of a drunk sleeping overlord. And you didn't have a way of reaching any of the other Vees, either.

"Shit." There was no other way you had to get him home. And of course you didn't have a car. So you just put him on your back and headed for the massive Vees tower. Thank god it was not so far. You knew your boss is not gonna be happy that you just left your shift but he was gonna beat you up for not letting Vox sell his company to him so one more punch didn't really matter.

When you arrived you walked into the lobby and to your luck (or unluck) Valentino was there giving a tantrum about where the fuck Vox was.

When he turned around and saw you his anger vanished.

"Uhhh what a handsome little toy Vox found himself, do you have a job sweetie?" He asked in his charismatic way.

"I would not make a deal with you if Lucifer himself would be forcing me to, Mr.Vox just had a bit too much tonight." You said as you placed Vox in one of the couches in the lobby.

"Have a good rest of your night sir" you said as you started to walk out.

"How interesting..." commented Val.

You were working the next day too, of course you had no such a thing as days off. After you got back last night...well all you thought your boss was going to do, he did. However he did something new. Usually he only hurts your body so that you can use your handsome face to lure people in. But this time, he was very pissed you just took away a huge opportunity so...he took away something important from you too.

You had to show up in an eye patch for work today. There was no eye underneath anyways.

Vox woke up with a murderous headache.

"Fuuuuuck I dont remember anything from last night" he said while he walked out of his room to get coffee.

Val was sitting on a couch.

"Really? Not even the cutie who took you home?"

"Huhh, who took me- oh shit the bartender?"

"He could tend to my bar." Chuckled Valentino.

"Fuck, thats...actually nice." That was a very weird thing to do.

You spilled a drink, again. It was hard to get used to only having one eye.

"Shit" you mumbled to yourself.

"(Y/N)... that better be the last drink you fucking spill understood?" Your boss growled at you.

"Yes, sir." You whispered back.

Vox walked into the bar his eyes searching only for you.

"Mr.Vox, what a pleasure to have you back." Your boss greeted him immediately.

Vox barely acknowledged him however when he spotted you at the bar, he immediately walked over.

"Had a good night sleep sir?" You asked while smiling lightly as he sat down to the bar.

"Truly lovely," he answered sarcastically. Now that he was looking at you without a fogged mind in day light, you were even more handsome than he originally remembered.

"What can I get you sir?"

"Nothing, I cant drink right the taste of vomit is still fresh in my mouth." He answered. You chuckled at that. It was a pleasant sound for Vox. He smiled a bit too. And then he realized, you didn't have an eye patch yesterday. He knew because he remembered staring at your eyes a lot yesterday.

"What happened?" Vox blurted out. Surprising even himself. Since when does he care? Since now apparently.

You gut nervous all of a sudden and glanced at your boss who was looking at the two of you suspiciously.

"N-Nothing you know how being a bartender is its not the safest job in the world."

Vox saw the glance. He also saw that your boss was glaring at you from the moment you two started talking.

"Would you excuse me for a second" he said at last and started walking over to your boss. Only to be stopped by you grabbing his hand.

"No, sir don't" you said, if you made such a huge power as Vox mad at your boss, you would loose much more than one of your eye.

"Oh sweetie, your boss is nothing" he said as he smiled at you to get you to let go, which you did, still worried.

You saw that Vox was talking to your boss. You boss started shacking his head and got really pissed, thats when Vox put his hand around your boss's neck and made him sign something.

When Vox walked over to you, you still looked worried.

"Come on, we are leaving." He said.

"What? Sir I cant."

"I bought you, sugar, I have a private bar." He smirked at you slightly.

"Just to say thanks for last night."

And to have you with him, but you don't need to know that yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toodles I hope you guys liked it😘

[chaepink]

Hi i really loved ur content about submissive Kenma. Can u write a fic about kenma again🥺🥺 like the reader was so jealous because some ramdom girl is flirting with kenma. Thats why she ended up fucking him all night u knaurr

jealousy, jealousy | sub!kenma kozume

wc: 1k+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, pegging, possessiveness/jealously, begging, jealous sex, aftercare is mentioned though its not written, established relationship, slight crying

note : oh my god thank you! 😳

and im sorry but i forgot to write how the reader kept fucking him all night :,)

"Oh hello~ you're rather cute, aren't you?" You ignore the voice, thinking it was just a girl hitting on a random person. That's until you hear the high pitched voice again asking the person for their number, except it was closer this time and a familiar voice answers afterwards.

"N-No thanks... I'm not i-interested.."

You stray your attention from the item in your hand to the familiar voice and furrow your eyebrows when you see the scene.

Kenma, who's your boyfriend to make it clear, being flirted on by this clueless girl who, though he denied her advances once already, thinks she still has a shot and keeps on trying to talk to him. She's getting rather close to him too, making him have to take small steps backward in order to keep the distance between them comfortable, a slight blush on his cheeks.

You feel anger bubble up inside your body as you furrow your eyebrows, glaring at the girl. You know the emotion you're currently feeling loud and clear: jealously.

Knowing how Kenma hates being social and would rather stay inside and play video games over anything else, your boyfriend is probably hating all the attention that he is currently getting from her. Hell, judging by the facial expression he has on it seems that he would rather be anywhere else than at that very spot.

Having dated him for a while now, you know the poor boy won't find it in him to be able to find the words to shut her down directly. That's where you come in.

Taking a few deep breaths, you calm yourself down before you mindlessly do something you would regret. Walking towards the two, Kenma sees you and his eyes immediately light up, begging you to help him out of the situation.

Grabbing his hand more harsher than you meant, you immediately begin walking towards the cashier section while completely ignoring the girl right there.

"C'mon, babe. I'm done getting everything."

Kenma blushes at the venom in your tone. He could feel the jealousy radiating off you and honestly? It's rather hot.

But he can't help but be nervous about what's going to happen to him.

---

"P-Please! i'm s-sorry!" He lets out another sob as you hit all the right spots in him with your strap. Due to the sheer size of it, it fills him up almost too perfectly, making him whine and whimper underneath you as you continue to pound his insides.

Tears brim his eyes as you brutally fuck him stupid. All he can do is lay there as pleasure courses through his body in waves making him unable to do anything without being shocked with pleasure seconds later. He's a pillow princess, really, but oh do you love it.

Mere minutes if not seconds after you entered the shared apartment between you two do you already have him trapped on the bed underneath you, one of your biggest straps entering and exiting him easily and quickly due to prep. His top half is still covered by a hoodie as you were too focused on revealing his bottom half.

"Oh don't worry, baby." You clench your teeth. Your thighs are absolutely burning but you don't dare stopping for even a second. You remember how touchy the girl was being with Kenma and you speed up your thrusts even more, jealously fueling your adrenaline. "I know you're sorry. Just gotta make sure that the next time that girl sees you-," you start to say. "Well the next time anyone has their eye on you, they'll see the hickeys on your neck and decide to leave what what's mine alone."

A shiver runs down Kenma's spine as your possessiveness makes blood run far down his body. His hands make its way into your back, latching on and digging his nails into your skin, making you hiss from the slight pain it causes. The grip you have on his hips is hard enough to leave a mark but it allows you to easily fuck in and out of him and be able to control the pace.

"You're mine, yeah? No one else's. Mine."

He whimpers as a particular thrust of your strap has him arching his back and letting out a almost pornographic moan. Fuck, he looks absolutely breathtaking right now.

"Y-Yes- fuck! I'm y-yours."

You latch your teeth onto his neck and bite down, making Kenma mewl out from the slight pain. Making sure to leave a few more bite marks and love bites, you lick a few to soothe the pain. You don't care if they only stay for a few days, knowing you would leave more in the near future.

"Fuck- i'm close!"

With that information, you switch from quick, hard thrusts to slower, deeper ones that make Kenma's toes curl and eyes roll from the sheer pleasure he's feeling. He lets out another moan.

"Go on, baby. Cum for me, alright?"

And with that, Kenma lets loose. Whines, moans, and whimpers fill the room as your boyfriend stains the bed and his hoodie with cum. You continue slowly fucking him to ease him down from his high and Kenma whines from sensitivity when you pull out, leaving him to clench around nothing.

"Good boy," you say, kissing his cheek. He blushes red from the praise, almost as if you weren't fucking his brains out mere seconds ago. "You did so good for me." You're about to leave to clean him up until he grabs your arm, stopping you. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"Um... w-what about you though?" It takes a moment for you to process his question but once you do, you can't help but smile.

"Aw sweetie," you coo, making him blush even harder at the new pet name. "Don't worry about me, I'm just glad you enjoyed it."

As you go and get a wet towel to clean him up, he reaches to his neck and gently touches the hickeys and bite marks you've left there. Though it hurts as he slowly presses down on a bruise and he has to stop himself from letting out a whimper, he can't help but smile, a dark blush adorning his cheeks.

He's yours.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello! Recently I've been reading your works (usually twst, disney and sometimes oc) and im really interested.

I would like to request yandere cinderella x reader please if thats okay!

Im not sure if there is any request rules i should follow since i cant really find any or if its open so sorry if i broke any of them! Btw no need to answer this if you aren't interested or dont have the energy, im just curious in how you would write them since they are very unique and nicely written. Remember please take care of yourself and take rest when you need to!! (since you literally post almost everyday)

I try I do post everday, though I'm surprised anyone noticed 🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Genderbend Cinderella x Reader

To say you didn’t like you’re step-brother would be an understatement. 

You hated him. 

Him and all that he stood for.

It was disgusting, how wicked Ellwick was to you and your family. Not wicked in the way that he looked down on you; more so in the way that his existence was an obstacle to yours. Currently he made it his mission to insert himself where he never belonged, constantly upending your rightful place. You remembered the time before the single father and son duo shoved their way into your family’s lives. It was peaceful, well as peaceful as life with your family could be. Guns, knifes, drugs, cement shoes–the life that meant serving your family and running the city from behind the scenes. Your mother, your brother, and the many associates that joined your family. 

What can you say? Blood is binding especially when spilt.

Cinder Ellwick and his father came into your home under the silly notion of ‘healthy’ love. As if fighting alongside one another wasn’t love, these men marched into your lives expecting to ‘fix’ your already perfect family. 

Your brother and the many others could spot the foolishness in their morale, unfortunately your mother could not. Which devastated her the moment her new husband got his rightful comeuppance. 

“He shouldn’t have joined the game, if he didn’t know how to play.” 

Your brother scoffed under his breath during your mother’s mournful eulogy. You couldn’t help but agree. Only irritating you more when your mother dressed in black brought the blonde-headed boy to you two saying something along the lines of him being a permanent burden on your family.

“It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

So what? It was his fault for getting involved! His fault for getting kidnapped! His fault for refusing to arm himself, when you warned him! So why did you, your family, have to live with the nuisance?

“I’m going to try my best, to be apart of this family. Properly this time.”

“That’s good to hear, Ellwick.”

Not long after that he took up the role as you’re family’s cleanup crew, eliminating those your family marked. Unpaid debts and traitors were his targets, the scum of your faction–perfect level for Ellwick to begin truly becoming apart of this family. You’d think that’d be enough for him to feel included. But that’s just like him to be so greedy.

“May I come with you on that mission?”

Ellwick asked, still panting from running down the halls from Mother’s office trying to catch up to you and your brother. You both were prepared, dressed to the nines in comparison to him who was in a dirtied leather suit. It'd be a burden and embarrassment for him to come.

Your brother laughed, ” No chance! Look at you covered in cinders again! What’d you do, wrestle your target in a fire pit?”

Ellwick awkwardly smiled as your brother held his stomach. Laughter rising and eyes widening as if he had an epiphany. He points at the blonde, who barely winces at the pressure.

“Kind of like–Cinderwick! Haha!” 

You rolled your eyes as he repeated the name inbetween his belly laughs. Ellwick’s smile was twitching on the otherhand turning his attention to you. Glaring at him you ushered your brother away, barely turning your head to the crushed boy.

“You can’t. We won’t be letting an outsider handle things as private as this.”

Many of your interactions would go like this. Cinderwick inserting himself in your personal business and you putting him in his place, your latest mission was no different. Only that you were older and more responsibility will have fallen to you. You had to step up more than ever.

“Alright my children as we discussed you will be infiltrating the gathering. Your target is the first son of the Mayor. Blackmail, romance him, kiss up, we need a foothold on the city. I can only trust my children.”

“Than why is he here?” 

You shifted your eyes to the blond hitman who was standing barely a foot you and your brother. Your mother sighed.

“We need all hands on deck. Our competitors are in attendance as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if they try anything and I just can’t have my babies be put in danger.”

She held both you and your brother’s cheeks pinching it a little. Leaning into her touch you happily smiled at her over-endearment. Whereas your brother recoiled and wriggled away nursing his cheek.

“Aw geez Ma will you stop.”

“Now my children.” She looked to Ellwick.”All my children. I wish you the best.” 

______________________________________________________________

It was almost commendable, how fast Cinderwick managed to do it. Wooing the son of the mayor and leading him on a wild goose chase that ultimately led to a grand proposal. To which he accepted. 

There was a nervousness about him being the victor; a sudden power handed to someone who wasn’t apart of the family. He was in a position of power, a position that allowed him to string your family along. 

“Congratulations my son! We’re happy you’ve found love in such a place!” 

Sugarcoated words and fake pearly smiles were the next step in the mission. Officially tying the mayor to your family…all with a man who wasn’t apart of the family. 

“Oh thank you step-mother! I can’t wait to have you and the family at our wedding.”

Your mother’s eye twitched at the ‘step’ but she maintained her smile letting Cinderwick cuddle into his fiance’s arm as they continued to chatter. It was revolting that it was he who returned to the estate with a cocky smile and a ring on his finger.

“Well you told all your children to do your best and they tried. So I will take the mantle up…as long as you agree to my terms.”

The following sentence had your mother sending you and your brother out of the room–treatment originally reserved for an outsider like him. Your brother stomped away dropping his emotionless persona, you followed.

“ARGH! How the heck did that slimy cinderblock idiot get ahead of us!? This is ridiculous!”

“...We tried…Arthur don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”

He turned to you the fire in his eyes directed to you.

“Tried?! We should’ve easily bested that bag of soot!” 

Turning back around he made his way to his office slamming his mini fridge open to reveal a plethora of beers and cheap wine bottles. You thought you threw those out. You debated staying as he quickly began to chug the drinks haphazardly dropping the finished cans to the ground. 

“Arthur. Don’t drink anything else.”

“Why!? Why wasn’t it me or you even!?”

“Well for one, typical romance isn’t exactly our field of expertise. I don’t know what you exp–”

You were cutoff by the ceramic smashing near the wall behind your head. Barely missing you it was lucky all you got was a cut from the ricochet glass shatter. It didn’t bother you, it seemed shallow, so you pressed further entering the room more. Closing and locking the door behind you as you closed in on your brother aiming to simply hug him. 

It didn’t stop his drinking bout but it did bring him to a wobbly pause. Letting you slowly walk him away from the desk the alcohol sat. As if he was being taunted once he got barely three steps away he wrenched himself from your grip darting towards the alcohol. In his raw distracted strength he barely pushed you back into the decorative cabinet. 

You would have repeated your attempt if it weren’t for the sudden grip of Ellwick’s leather glove on your wrist. Naturally you pulled yourself away or tried to. Struggling against his bone breaking hold, you ultimately relented as Arthur began to shove off the contents on his desk. Ellwick easily shoved you out of the room, successfully doing so. With that same force he pushes you against the wall, trapping you against it with his narrowed irises and presence alone.

“What are you doing?!”

“Its none of your business.”

“It is every bit my business! Why would you go anywhere near him when he’s in a drunken rage?”

“Because he’s family!” Your voice cracked with emotion, daring to look up at his softened blue eyes. With faux cough, you fixed yourself staring head on to the blonde before slipping past him.

“I don’t expect you to understand that though.”

Speed-walking out of the hall, your only goal was to return to your room hoping to finally relieve the burning sensation in your eyes. Ellwick on the other hand watched you walk away more specifically the cut that had let blood of yours trickle down. 

In a fury like none other Ellwick made his way to the closed door. It was time to end this. 

For good.

_____________________________________________________________

“My son. I want you to know I will always love your mother and I’ll never stop loving her.”

“Right.”

“But I’ve found someone who makes me happy! Someone who will cherish me and you!”

“Okay.”

“The thing is…she has a very different line of work.”

Ellwick wasn’t sold. Even as young as he was there wasn’t an inherent attraction to the mafia-life. When he had the chance to he’d read a torrent of love-stories and twisted family relations all with mafia environments. It usually ended in death, somehow bringing a foreboding cloud over this new developement. 

*Click*

“Whoa whoa little one I get that I’m not a replacement for any–”

“My gun. Take it.”

“E-excuse me?”

Ellwick didn’t really register you before this. Eyes widening as someone as tiny as you easily cocked and flipped the butt of a gun in the direction of his father. Wielding the weapon he’d only seen on those forbidden adult movies with such ease. A silent urgency on your part, you were offering your gun with a custom handle of your favorite color. 

It was an uncharacteristic show of kindness. 

The first he’d seen in a while. 

Since the announcement of your parent’s engagement there was a tension birthed among your closest members and your family. It was a clear sentiment that they dared not express with Ellwick in the room or their boss for that matter.

‘You’re going to be a target. You’re going to die.’

Everyone wanted to say it. Hint at it. But the air was too thick and they were too scared to break the silence. 

But not you.

You were the only one to tell it to him straight. Other than Ellwick himself. Of course the old geezer didn’t listen, avidly refusing to take your weapon and then attempting to get the weapon back from you.  

It made you his favorite.

To think underneath such a cold exterior there was something soft–small but soft. Its what Ellwick told himself when you’d glare and insult him. He’s never found himself doing the same for your mother and brother. Only finding it in him to imagine their tortuous ends at his hands, he could never do that with you. Even when he began to do his work, he’d be all the more motivated when imagining two-thirds of his step-family.

Step-family. He didn’t like that title.

He hated associating you with that.

He liked you a lot more than that of a step-family.

He could handle the exclusion, the insults, the glares, all of it but he couldn’t have you being in the arms of someone else. So he pulled something he’d thought he buried long ago, charming the mayor’s son. 

Having an influential leader’s heir willing to bend to his every whim and need made him powerful. 

A threat. 

So when your mother came to him practically begging for his forgiveness, Ellwick knew this was his chance to set everything in motion. So when you and your brother angrily departed he was prepared.

“The bit of your faction, handselected at my beck and call.”

“Done. You inform us of the policies and actions of the mayor?”

“Policies and upcoming legislation only. I’m not stalking my in-law.’

“Fine.“

“We meet once a month, I’ll come to you.”

“We can do that. Be willing to let your siblings visit you in-home during ermengenies?”

“Yes…I want (Y/n).”

“Excuse me?”

“I want (Y/n).

“You can’t be serious—”

“I am. I want full ownership of (Y/n) their activities, everything. Otherwise I’ll be inclined to fully inform the mayor and police department of what your true business entails.”

“I can’t possibly give you my child! Who do you think I am?!”

Ellwick made a face. Naturally and quickly pulling a gun out of his suit, earning a horrified reaction from his stepmother who was staring at the barrel. It’s not that Ellwick was unaware of the metal detectors and constant pat downs but when you’re a trained assassin this is light work.

“The same idiot, who thought’d I’d always be cleaning your messes. The same idiot who’s been ostracizing me and still put a gun in my hand.” 

He moved closer but not close enough for his step-mother’s garrote-technique to be effective. He was almost inclined to reveal his companions ‘guarding her door or the poisoned dart in his cuff link. But he decided it wouldn’t be needed…not today at least.

“The same idiot who’s blind to the abusive alcholic she raised. That is more than likely hurting (Y/n) right now.”

“What’re you–”

“That’s what your first-husband was like, right? An alchoholic who ran the mafia with an iron fist.”

“Enough!...Fine. You can take them with you after your honeymoon.”

“Before.”

“Why would you–” 

“Be-fore.”

“....It will be…done.”

When she finished, Ellwick had full intentions to find you. No doubt cooking up a barrage of insults to cutely angrily whisper behind you’re door. But before he could make it to your room, he heard the sound of glass shattering and muffled yelling.

He could only see red. Red as the cut that was bleeding on your skin. 

Seems like his role as the family’s ‘cleanup crew’ would come in handy.

[midniiights-garden]

I love your hcs for modern au! mizu, could you possibly write some headcanons relating to her getting into a relationship?

(A/N: YIPPIEEEEE AN ASK!! Omg I think this would be interesting and there's a bunch of other HCs on this but imma put my own spin on it ^^)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex, internalized homophobia, sexisim, racisim, grooming (??)

~~~

Ok so first of all yeah, I wanna flesh out her past relationship with Mikio in this AU. I think it would be important in shaping Mizu's view of her future S/O.

So, as I said in my last post she probably met Mikio when she was in University, he would probably be a teacher or something. Lowkey, considering the age gap, in this AU he would have probably either been some kind of forced relationship like in the canon or he groomed her in some way.

Either way, it made moder!Mizu really wary of kindness, now viewing everyone who is nice to her as a threat.

I'm also basing her trauma responses based on my own so I hope this isn't too OOC, I'm just tryna work off of what I know lol

So when you came into her life (probably introduced by Ringo because he's a cutie patootie ray of sunshine), she was more than skeptical.

It'd be rocky. You'd try to talk and she would only give short, curt answers. Much like canon Mizu.

It'd probably take a consistent half a year of talking to her for her to finally crack. Either that or you'd do something really nice for her like caring for her whilst she was sick or prepared something for her birthday or something of the likes. Either way, you'd have to really make an effort to befriend and win her over, it's more of a her problem then a you problem.

But once her initial coldness has melted away you find a pretty sincere, caring woman. She's only strict with you if she cares. If she doesn't I believe she's the kind of person who would probably just go "eh, whatever" if you did something stupid. But if she cares she'll be like "DO NOT DO THAT".

She'll realise she's in love probably while she's sick lol

Like, she'll see you helping her at her worst, holding her hair back whilst she throws up or something and be like "...oh my god".

Mizu wouldn't confess too soon after realising, she'd take her time to really think about it. Was she ready for a potential heartbreak? Was this worth it? You might find that she'll pull away a little as she thinks. It isn't intentional, but it will probably happen.

You'd probably have to confess first.

She'd secretly be elated but she wouldn't show it too much at first. Actually, she'd be hesitant to show positive emotions at all in the beginning. But as your relationship progresses she realises you aren't like Mikio. You aren't there because of some made up image of her. You're there because you love her. Not an idea of her, but herself, flaws and all.

She's gonna marry you lol.

(A/N: THAAAAT'S IT!!! Also im so sorry for taking so long with this. my gf left me and its my bday today so ive been like moping and playing sdv lmfaoooo. HAPPY NEW YEARS POOKIES <3)

[vanishingcherry]

Hi, could you please write a lando Norris fic with angst prompt 1 thank you 🥰

LOVE, OR LACK THEREOF

pairings: lando norris x reader

warnings: break up, implied drinking, kinda asshole lando at first

authors note: thanks for requesting! prompt 1 is "do you even love me anymore?" side note, it is so hard to find a gif of lando in which hes not smiling. also im so sorry for the ending i have no idea how to end angst

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The two of you had fallen in love surprisingly fast, but the process of falling out was slow and torturous. Fate was cruel, adamant on hurting you.

Instead of late night talks, the two of you would sleep facing the wall, neither wanting to risk seeing the other. Cute dinner dates turned into eating leftovers in different rooms, not wanting to risk a conversation. Small gifts and bouquets were to be seen no more, the house growing more dreary by the day.

You weren't sure if it was worth it anymore. You loved Lando, too much if you were being honest. But at this point, you weren't sure if he loved you back.

You noticed it at the beginning of the end. The way he always had an excuse. Whether it was streaming on twitch or calls with Zak, he never did anything with you anymore.

And you had tried, my god had you tried.

You had done everything. You had meticulously planned dates and activities based on his schedule, shifting around your own. You had been understanding, comforting, whenever he claimed he was too tired to go out to eat. You figured it was just for a while, that the stress had gotten to him and everything would be okay soon. But nothing changed, and 3 months later you found yourself in the exact same position.

Honestly? You were tired. Tired of your relationship, tired of Lando, and tired of putting effort into something he clearly didn't care about. You would give him one last chance, one last time to show he loves you.

That day, you wait for him in the living room. He had gone out with a few friends and it was well past 11pm, the time he had promised he would return.

Hearing the click of the lock, you mute the movie, watching the door open to reveal a tipsy Lando. His eyebrows furrow together at the sight of you on the couch.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asks, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"I wanted to talk to you, remember?"

"Can't we just talk tomorrow, I'm tired" he responds, before turning towards the staircase.

You knew you had to speak now, his understanding of tomorrow would never come. You look down at your hands, almost whispering the next words in fear of what his answer would be.

"Do you even love me anymore?"

"What?" He turns around immediately, looking at you.

"You heard me."

"Of course I love you, why are you even asking me that?"

"You've said it 2 times in the last week."

"What?" he scoffed. "You're counting now?"

"What else do you want me to do, Lando? We've spent maybe 1 day together in the last month. You're always making excuses and leaving and- I don't even know. What am I supposed to think?" You stand up, your voice increasing in amplitude as you grow more and more frustrated.

"I don't know Y/N, maybe trust the fact that I love you!"

"How!? You haven't given me a reason to in months." Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. "Nevermind, I don't know what I was expecting by doing all this." You get up and head to your bedroom, speeding up when you hear Lando trailing behind you. You had prepared a small bag with enough clothes for a week, should the conversation not go well.

Thankful for your foresight, you turn around and see Lando standing in the doorway, interested in finishing a conversation for the first time in ages.

"Why do you have a bag packed?"

"I'm done. I'm leaving."

It was ironic how quickly his face changed. His hard expression turned soft at the realisation of what you meant, the anger in his eyes was no more, instead it flashed with fear and sadness.

"Done... with what?" he whispered. The tables had turned, now it was him who was afraid of your answer. He waited for your answer, mouth slightly parted, taking small breaths, fearful of what would happen when you broke the tense silence.

"You. Us." Your voice was cold as steel, wanting to leave the house as soon as possible. Leave him as soon as possible. You could feel the emotions building up inside of you, threatening to burst out, but you hold on, not wanting to cry in front of him.

You try walking past him, but his hand grabs your own, pulling you into his arms. He was now stood directly in front of you, still blocking the doorway.

"Darling I- I get that you're mad but we don't have to break up." His voice is hesitant, not wanting to accidentally say something to upset you further. "

"We do, Lando."

"No no no. We can- I can fix this, darling. How about we spend time together this week? Yeah? I'll clear everything, it'll be just the two of us, all week." His mind was scrambling, going through every possible action, trying to think of ways to make you stay. "Please, my love. I love you, I promise, so much. I'll say it a million times a day, forever."

You sigh, eyes filling up with water as you try to hold back the tears. He didn't deserve to see you cry, see how much he had hurt you. "Lando, I would've given anything for that a few days ago, hell even a few hours ago. But you didn't care until it was too late, and that's not my fault." You don't look at his face, knowing that his expression would break you. Instead you look past him at the door, shrugging off his hands and walking away.

"Wait! I- I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I love you. I'll do anything, my love. Anything. Tell me what you want and I'll do it."

You stop, but don't turn around, knowing that Lando was standing right behind you. "I don't want anything from you anymore, not when I know all I'll get is disappointment."

You leave, heading to your car. Lando stands still, staring at the door, watching, praying that you would come back. That he hadn't messed up to that point. That it was all just a nightmare.

[graciegoeskrazy]

she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings (buckle up): angst, little fluff, language, absent father, dead mom, cancer, children's home, R IS TWELVE, foster care, insomnia, a lot of these things are mentioned but aren't in graphic detail at all. R HAS A NAME IM TRYING SOEMTHING

a/n: I got this request and was lowk kinds unsure but I just started and couldn't stop typing. im nil a lot of that I post is super short but this like literally like 7 thousand words which Ig is pretty standard but whatevs for me its crazy. I might actually hate this I genuinely haven't decided yet. anon depending on what you think im ether sorry or you're welcome lol <3

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the peeling wallpaper, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You feel a mix of grief and numbness, a strange emptiness you can’t quite shake. The scent of mold and old candles is an odd comfort to the starkness and uncomfort of the room around you. You hear the faint sound of Nora’s voice drifting through the thin walls. You don’t move, just keep staring at your hands in your lap, the same position you’ve held for 3 days now, pretending not to hear the voice on the other side of the wall.

“Is this Matthew Healy?” she says, her voice steady.

“Depends. Who’s this?” The voice on the other end is wary, guarded.

“This is Nora from Wess Hill Children’s Home in London. How are you today?”

She could hear shuffling on the other side. “Fine. What’s this about?”

Nora takes a deep breath, glancing at your continuing. “Mr. Healy, on Tuesday we got a call asking for an emergency placement for a girl. Her mother passed away. She’s 12 years old, name is Matilda Moss - does that ring a bell?”

If you were right next to Nora you would have felt the unamusement in his voice. “‘Fraid not, ma’am.”

Nora’s expression tightens slightly. “Interesting. What I find really interesting is that on her birth certificate, it lists you, Mr. Healy, as her biological father.”

There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nora sighs, her eyes softening as she looks back at your door again. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way, truly. But I have a home that only fits 24 and a long waitlist of children, so I need to know if I need to send this child into foster care or tell her that her father will be coming to see her.”

“W-Wait a minute. How are we even sure it’s my child? There could be thousands of other white blokes in London with the same name. How can I even believe you? How do I know you’re not a scammer or some idiot trying a prank?”

Nora’s voice remains calm, but there’s still an edge. “Does the name Florence Moss mean anything to you, sir? Ring any bells?”

The line went silent.

“I need to know what it’s gonna be, sir. I’m not trying to inconvenience you either way; I just need an answer.”

You hear a long sigh on the other end. “I-I don’t…I don’t know—”

“She was sick, Matthew. Cancer.”

There’s a heavy silence. Then, Nora speaks again, her voice gentle but firm. “Her will clearly states that in the unforeseen circumstance of death, She wanted her daughter to be placed with her father, you.”

Another pause. “What’s her name again?”

“Matilda George Moss-Healy.”

“And she’s 12?”

“12 and 2 months.”

A soft exclamation, almost a whisper. “Wow. I’ll be there at 3.”

It didn’t matter what Nora could do or say or give you to make you feel better, There was nothing that could be done in order to make the past 3 days not feel like a living hell. There was nothing you, yourself, could physically do to make the permanent ache in your heart disappear. The only thing, you thought, that could make this all go away, that could make this nightmare end, was your mother. But she was gone, and there was nothing that could be done. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that in just a few hours, you’ll meet the man you’ve wondered about your entire life.

—-------

If there was one thought that was evidently clear in Matty’s mind, it was that he needed to call George.

His hands trembled slightly as he fumbled for his phone, the sleek device feeling unusually heavy in his grasp. He pressed it to his ear, each ring seeming slower and slower as it rung. He paced the small, cluttered room, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Finally, George’s voice crackled through the line, casual and unbothered. “Sup, dipshit.”

“I just got the strangest call,” Matty said, his voice strong, skipping over the usual pleasantries.

“‘Kay?” George’s tone was wary.

“From a woman working in a children’s home?” Matty continued, his mind still reeling from the conversation.

“What charity they want you to perform now?” George asked, his voice light but curious.

“No, it’s not that.” Matty paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s about Flo? Florence Moss?” Matty’s voice wavered slightly, the name stirring up a flood of memories.

There was a noticeable pause, the air thick with anticipation. “Woah! That’s a name I never thought I’d hear again!” George finally replied, his tone shifting to something lighter, a huge comparison to Matty’s frantic state.

“So that’s a yes?” Matty pressed.

“You kidding? I LOVED Flo. She was like a sister to me! Shame though, innit?” He said, refurrging to the breakup Matty and Florence went through. “Anyways, what about her?” His voice softened.

“She died, George. Couple days ago. Cancer.” Matty’s words were blunt, but they carried a heavy weight.

Another long pause followed, the silence almost deafening. “You doin’ a bit? ‘Cause it’s not funny, mate-”

“It’s not a bit. And she had a child.” Matty’s voice broke slightly, the reality of the situation hitting him.

“What?” George’s shock was palpable, even through the phone.

“Who has my name on the birth certificate?” Matty continued, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Not shittin’ you.”

George was in pure disbelief. “How can you be sure?”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “Um, ‘cause Flo and I were together for like two fucking years and we broke up like 12 years ago and the girl’s age is 12?”

“It’s a GIRL? Oh mate, you’re fucked.” His bluntness would usually make him light, but this time it made him nearly question his entire life.

“Not the sentiment I need right now.” Matty snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“What are you gonna do?” George’s voice was calmer now, but still tinged with concern.

“I-I feel like I have to go get her? Right? Otherwise, she’s off to foster care? I mean, she’s my child. Right? I don’t know. Maybe not.” Matty’s words tumbled out in a rush, his uncertainty evident.

George sighed, a long, weary sound. “I think you’re fucked either way.”

“Oh, thanks sooooo much, Uncle George,”

“No. I mean, if you bring this girl with you, raise her, be a dad, do whatever the fuck, your life is gonna change, right? If you call that woman back, tell her to send her into foster care, although that woman might legally have to tell you ‘Okay. Thank you,’ we both know you would never forget her and maybe even end up regretting that choice.”

Matty stood in silence. He knew his friend was right. No matter what he chose, his life was about to be irrevocably changed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders, pressing down with a relentless force.

—-------

“Hi, um, I’m looking for Nora?” His voice echoed slightly in the wide, institutional hallway.

“Ah, you must be Matthew. Nice to meet you.” Nora’s voice, though warm, had an undertone of weariness, like someone who had spent years navigating the complicated emotions of others. She shifted uneasily. “I informed Matilda of your…arrival today…and she’s not the happiest about it.”

“Meaning?”

“She won’t come out of her room.”

“Oh. Great.” Matty ran a hand through his hair, worry clear on his face.

“Just…keep in mind she’s still mourning.” Nora’s sing-song voice couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation. She led him down a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with children’s drawings and faded motivational posters. The scent of old wood, cleaning supplies, and the faintest hint of sadness hung in the air.

“Tilly! Someone’s here to see you.” Nora’s voice called out cheerfully, a futile attempt to coax you out.

“Matilda! Come on out, darling, it's alright.” She paused, listening for any sound of movement. “You know I have the key right here; I can just open it if I wanted to.” Nora said, voice comedic for the times. “Tilly, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

After a silent few seconds, she took her ring of keys and picked one to unlock your door.

Inside your room, you sat curled up on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The peeling wallpaper, once probably a cheerful pattern, now seemed to close in around you, a suffocating reminder of the world outside your door. The scent of mildew and the faint smell of your mother’s perfume clung to your clothes, creating a strange, bittersweet comfort. Nora’s voice penetrated the cocoon of silence you’d wrapped yourself in.

“Tilly, this is Matthew.” Nora’s voice softened, a hint of sympathy in her words. “He’s here to take you home, my love.”

You visibly winced at the word ‘home.’ Home was a concept that had shattered the day your mother died.

Nora took a step towards your bed, slowly rubbing your back in order to coax you to come out. “Why don’t you sit up, my love?” Nora said gently. You didn’t move.

She sighed. “C’mon, Tills.”

With a heavy sigh, you slowly uncurled yourself and sat up.

Matty felt out of place, a stranger in a place that was the closest thing you had to refuge.

“I’ll just leave you two alone for a moment. I’ll be right outside.” Nora closed the door softly, leaving you and Matty in an awkward silence.

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. The room seemed to shrink around him as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’ve gone through a lot in the past 48 hours,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his own emotions was evident, and he hesitated, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red from crying. The raw pain and vulnerability in your gaze made his heart ache. “You don’t have to take me with you out of…guilt,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to be here now just because you didn’t want to be here before.” The accusation hung in the air, a heavy reminder of his absence in your life.

He winced, the truth of your words cutting deep. “It’s not guilt, Matilda,” he replied, taking another step closer. “I genuinely didn’t know. If I had, things would have been different. I would have been there for you and your mother.” His voice broke slightly, the regret palpable. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here now because I want to be. Because you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His eyes were earnest, the sorrow in them mirroring your own grief. “Why didn’t she tell you?” you asked, the question that had been gnawing at you since you learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the unknown. “Maybe she thought it was for the best. Maybe she was scared. I wish I had the answers, but all I can do now is be here for you.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken questions and the ghosts of what might have been. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about you,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “And now you’re here, and I don’t know what to think.”

He nodded, understanding the turmoil within you. “I can’t change the past, Matilda. But I can promise you this: I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and cared for. I’ve got a house, with a nice room, food, and I think staying there would be better than the rotting twin mattress you’re sitting on in the smallest room I have ever seen that’s probably infested with black mold.”

“Everywhere in London has black mold,” you muttered, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Mine might have less?” He offered a tentative smile. “Come home, Matilda.”

“I don’t have a home. Not anymore.” Your voice was barely a whisper, the pain of loss weighing heavily on your words.

“I’m not saying this has to be forever. If you want to leave and go live with someone else, then that’s fine by me, but if you don’t come with me tonight, they’re gonna put you in foster care with a family who more than likely won’t give a shit about you.” He paused, gauging your reaction. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

You shook your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I don’t want you to go somewhere without knowing that you’ll be safe.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked surprised, almost disbelieving.

You paused once more, “...Okay.”

—-------

Matty let you be for a moment as he told Nora about the news. She was overjoyed and surprised as well. They let you know that Matty would be taking you home. As they talked, your mind wandered, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within you. You glanced around the room, noticing every detail—the worn carpet, the sagging ceiling, the chipped paint on the window sill. Everything felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream you couldn't wake up from.

You tried to grab his attention, your thoughts racing. You almost called out saying ‘Dad’ but stopped yourself just in time, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue. The idea of calling him that seemed too intimate, too close for someone who had been a stranger just hours ago. Your mother had always been careful with her words when you asked about your father. She painted vague pictures of him, always avoiding specifics. Now that he was here, standing just a few feet away, the reality of his presence was overwhelming.

Would ‘Matty’ be awkward? He was indeed your father, but calling him that didn’t feel right either. You had no shared history, no foundation of familiarity. The name felt too casual, too friendly for someone who had suddenly appeared in your life amid the chaos and grief. You felt a pang of frustration, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

As you struggled with your thoughts, you offered a simple “Hey,” to get his attention instead. Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters of this new, uncertain relationship. He turned to you, his expression a mixture of relief and anxiety, mirroring the storm of emotions within you.

He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes searching yours for a connection. "Hey," he replied, his voice warm but cautious. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of an unknown future, bound together by circumstance and the fragile hope that perhaps, in time, you could find your way to each other.

“I’m all ready to go, I think.”

“Awesome. I’ll get your things in the car.” He moved to gather your suitcases, his movements quick and efficient.

Nora hugged you tightly, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m happy for you, Matilda. You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and you’re doing so good.”

“Thank you for your help, Nora.” Your voice was soft, but there was a hint of gratitude in your words.

Her smile deepened as she led you from the desk to the front door. “I hope you know it comes from a good place when I say, I hope I never see you again.” The words made you laugh for the first time in three days, just a little, but it was a victory Nora cherished.

Matty muttered a few words when joining you in the car after bidding farewell to Nora. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him.

“You allergic to dogs? I’ve got one. His name is Mayhem. Weird name for a dog, I know, but it suits him—not that he’ll be a problem or anything. He’s a good boy.” He tried to fill the silence, his voice almost nervous.

“Do you usually not talk this much?” You shrugged, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery.

“Only when my mom dies.” Your words were blunt, a stark reminder of the grief still fresh in your heart.

Oh, so she definitely has my humor. Matty thought to himself, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. The drive was filled with awkward silences and hesitant attempts at conversation, but beneath it all was a shared sense of loss and a fragile hope for something better.

—-------

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the cluttered room. You continue to scroll on your phone as you pull the worn, thin blanket back over your shoulders. A yawn crosses your features. It wasn't your plan to be up at 3 a.m., but insomnia has become a close friend since your mother passed away. It's been three weeks and four days since you moved in with Matty. He made it very clear from the beginning: if you didn’t want to live with him, that was fine. He was in full support of whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe. He was ready and willing to have the conversation with you as soon as possible. Having your mother die of cancer, meeting your father for the first time, burying your mother, adjusting to a new life you had no clue you would be living just a month ago, and so on and so forth took its toll. You started to worry that the waiting game of seeing how long this quiet could last was starting to run out.

The footsteps walking down the steps and into the kitchen pulled you out of your drowset state. It was matty, dress in blue lounge pants and shit, complete with a random flannel that you would bet he just picked up off the floor and threw on before he come downstairs,

"Good morning," he says with a yawn, his voice low but still awake, a stark comparison to your drowsiness.

"It's 3 a.m.," you reply, your voice tinged with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Yeah, it's the morning," he says, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He holds out a steaming mug, the rich aroma of coffee wafting towards you. "Want some?"

"Sure," you say, accepting the mug and wrapping your hands around it, savoring the warmth that seeps into your skin.

You take a sip, the bitter taste jolting you awake. You look anywhere except his direction."You a musician?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat across from you. "You?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head. You watch him, trying to piece together the fragments of your mother’s stories with the reality in front of you.

“Do you know why my mom used to tell me I was named after my father and an ‘old friend.’"

"‘Old friend’?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, my middle name. Matilda came from ‘Matty’,you knew that, but where did my middle name come from?” you continue, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability.

"What's that again?" he asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. Also trying to not secretly swell with love as he was reminded of your similarities.

"George. Matilda George."

"George. Your middle name is George?" He looks at you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Jeez, I know it’s a guy's name but you don’t have to be a dick about it—" you snap, feeling defensive.

"No! No! It’s not that I just…" he trails off, shaking his head. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and walks towards you. "This is George." He shows you a photo, and judging by the state of Matty’s facial hair, it’s a semi recent one. The pair are on what looks like a stage, together. Drum sticks in George’s hand, and a Guitar in your father’s.

"You know him?" you ask, your confusion deepening.

He smirked. "We’ve been best friends since we were 13. Him and your mother were friends since practically birth. He introduced us to each other." He pauses, seeing the confusion etched on your face. "She never mentioned him?"

"She never mentioned you, so," you retort, the bitterness in your voice surprising even you.

You stare into your coffee, the steam rising and swirling in the dim light. You decide to speak up, trying to change the mood hanging in the air. "She also said my father traveled the world a lot, loved his friends, and loved me, but couldn’t take care of me," you say softly, repeating the words your mother had told you countless times. "You travel a lot?"

"Something like that," he replies, his eyes distant as if he's seeing a different time and place.

—-------

Matty didn’t like leaving you for too long, so he kept to working from home as much as possible.​​ Today, he said he needed to help George with something and then he would be back with dinner from your favorite restaurant. He’s done this a few times before and each time, again and again, the urge to play the stunning grand piano situated in the corner of his office grew more. 

You kept away from it. There were even spots or rooms in the house that you kept away from. Even though you and Matty were so much more comfortable, it still felt like there were boundaries, unspoken lines you weren’t sure you could cross. His office was one of those places, a domain you didn’t feel entirely comfortable invading. The grand piano, with its polished ebony surface and ivory keys, seemed like an artifact from another world, a world that you weren’t quite a part of yet.

Today, though, was different. The house was unusually quiet, the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway amplifying the stillness. You wandered through the rooms, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors. You paused by the door to Matty’s office, your hand resting on the doorknob. You glanced around, as if expecting someone to stop you, but the house remained silent.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the room. The grand piano sat in the corner, almost beckoning you. You walked over to it, your fingers grazing the smooth surface. You hesitated for a moment, then gently lifted the lid.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the bench. The familiar scent of polished wood filled your senses, bringing back memories of when you used to play. Your fingers hovered above the keys, and then, almost instinctively, they began to move. The first notes were tentative, but as you continued, they grew more confident, filling the room with music.

You closed your eyes, letting the music take over. The melody was a blend of old memories and new emotions, a testament to the changes in your life. The piano seemed to respond to your touch, the sound resonating deep within you. You lost track of time, immersed in the music, the outside world fading away.

You didn’t notice the front door opening or the soft footsteps approaching the office. Matty stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He had come home earlier than expected, and the sight of you playing the piano was both unexpected and heartwarming. He leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment.

Once the last notes sounded, he spoke, startling you as you took your hands off the keys. “Sounds beautiful,” he said softly.

You jumped slightly, your fingers slipping off the keys. You turned to see him standing there, a gentle smile on his face.

“When did you get home?” you asked, a bit flustered.

“Just now,” he replied casually, stepping into the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

“Long enough to realize you lied to me,” he said, his smile turning into a teasing grin.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You’re a musician! You play piano.”

You paused, thinking, then continued. “Well, you lied to me too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“You never mentioned you were in a band. A really famous one!”

His expression changed. “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “Well, what do you say when you're meeting your 12-year-old daughter for the first time? I don’t know, but I do know it’s definitely not ‘Nice to meet you, I’m famous,’ I’ll tell you that.” You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “How’d you find out?” He asked.

You adjusted your posture and spoke. “I finally told my friends, and we did an internet deep dive in English class.”

He chuckled. “And I wonder why that’s the only class with a B.” He said, leaving the room as he did so.

You followed behind him, the both of you now making your way to the kitchen. “Is that why she said you traveled a lot? Because you were on those tours?” you asked, the pieces starting to fit together.

“I can only guess,” he replied, shrugging. You sat on one of the bar stools, across from where he was unpacking the groceries and starting to prepare dinner.

“Have you ever met Beyoncé?” you asked, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Only in passing,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his focus down.

You sat up in shock. “Really?!” You asked, mouth agape.

“I mean, yeah. It’s hard not to go to the Grammys and not walk past her and Jay-Z’s table.”

“You’ve been to the Grammys?” you asked, amazed.

“Yeah, we were nominated.”

You honestly couldn;t believe it. While spending that time on the internet earlier, a lot of the pieces were starting to come together. It’s just that you didn’t expect your own father - I guess I should start calling him that now - to be this huge ‘star’. “Shut up! Did you win?”

He laughed and looked you in the eyes. “Do you see a shiny gold trophy in our home? Should’ve though.” You shook your head in amazement. “How long have you been playing?” he asked, after a moment.

You became a bit quiet again, not impressed by the fact the conversation was heading this direction. “I don’t know,”

“What was it that Miss Julia said? About being open and honest with each other or something like that-”

“Ten years,” you interrupted, shooting him an unimmpressed look. He just smiled.

“Wow. How the hell did your mother get a two-year-old to stand still?” He asked.

“Well, I was an angel,” you said, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Really? What happened then?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic sigh. “Those dad jokes kicked in real fast, didn’t they?”

The room seemed to grow warmer as the two of you shared this moment. The room grew quieter, but it felt different than before. It felt, comfortable. The kind of comfortable silence you only felt with your mother. Even if it wasn’t exact - even knowing you might not ever feel that exact comfortable silence ever again - this one felt nice. It felt…right.

“You know, you’re really good,” He said.

Your eyes followed back to him after his voice took you out of your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks after deciding to not turn the compliment into something cheeky.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You have a natural talent.”

You just hummed. And he was glad to see you smile a true smile for the first time.

The lines that once seemed so rigid began to blur. The house, with its many rooms and hidden corners, started to feel less like a maze and more like a place where you could both find and create new memories together. Life started to feel hopeful. And even if it was for just that moment, it would be nice while it lasted.

—-------

Matty paced back and forth in his living room, phone clutched tightly in his hand. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the room, but the day had already brought an unsettling sense of dread.

“She’s gone,” Matty said into the phone, his voice trembling with panic.

George’s voice crackled on the other end. “Who’s gone?”

“Matilda.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She’s left,” Matty said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I got an alert from her school that she didn’t show up today. I looked in her room, her duffle bag was gone and some clothes were off their hangers in her closet. I think she ran away.”

“What? Okay, don’t panic. Are you sure?” George’s tone was urgent but tried to stay calm.

“Yes!” Matty’s voice rose, frustration and fear mingling. “I don’t know where she could’ve gone!”

“Okay- it’s okay. Calm down. We’ll find her.” His voice was firm, trying to ground Matty’s spiraling thoughts.

Your father heard Adam’s voice from the back. “How are we supposed to know what we’re looking for? We’ve never met the kid.”

“It’s my face, with my hair but longer, on the face of a pre-teen girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he tried to scramble to find his keys. Just then, his phone rang. “I’m getting another call, hold on.”

He hung up George’s line and answered, hopeful it was an answer to getting you back on the other end.

“Hi, I’m calling from the London Police Department. I’m calling for a Matthew Healy?” a calm voice said.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hello, sir. We’ve got a report for a runaway juvenile by the name of Matilda Moss-Healy,” the officer said, his tone professional and steady.

Matty’s stomach dropped, a cold fear gripping him. “Yes, that’s my daughter. Is she okay?”

The officer’s voice remained calm. “She’s safe. A concerned citizen noticed her alone. She’s here at the station.”

Relief flooded through Matty, making his knees weak. He let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up, immediately calling George back. “She’s at the police station. She’s safe.”

“Thank God,” George muttered. Not that Matty could see it but his face showing visible relief.

“Let’s go get her,” Ross said, already heading for the door, determination in his stride.

Adam leaned into the phone for Matty to hear him. “We’re with you, mate. We’ll come pick you up and then we can head there.”

—-------

There was a group of officers in uniform huddled near the front desk. Matty ran straight for them, his friends not far behind. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Hi, I'm looking for my daughter, Matilda. I got a call saying she was here,” he said, the urgency in his tone barely masking the anxiety coursing through him.

One of the sergeants, a tall man with a stern but kind face, nodded and spoke. “Right this way.” His voice was steady, a professional calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Matty.

As they walked, the sergeant began to explain. “A biker a few miles away noticed a young girl using an ATM and riding the metro alone. Thought it was suspicious for a 12-year-old.” The sergeant's words were clear, but they blurred together in Matty’s mind, his focus elsewhere. He kept nodding, mumbling a simple ‘mhm’ at intervals. His mind raced with thoughts of you—how you must be feeling, what you must be thinking. All he could do was silently hope you were okay. However, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish anyone who would even try to lay a finger on you.

He unconsciously quickened his pace, causing the officer to lengthen his strides to keep up. The hallway seemed endless, the sterile scent of the station mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. Finally, the sergeant’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s right in there. Take all the time you need, or no time at all.”

Matty nodded, his throat tight, and the sergeant walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. Ross, Adam, and George appeared from behind, having finally caught up with their friend. They all stood before a large glass screen, its dark tint revealing it to be a one-way mirror. You couldn’t see them, but they could see you.

“That’s your face alright,” Adam said softly, causing Matty’s lips to twitch into a short, bittersweet smile. His eyes never left the glass, never left you.

He turned around to face his friends, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Just give us a minute, yeah?” The three nodded in understanding, sharing a look of solidarity and concern, and walked back to the front reception desk.

Matty took a deep breath, steeling himself before he entered the room. His heart ached with a mixture of hope and fear. He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes landing on you immediately. You sat there, looking small and lost in the large, sterile room, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

You didn’t notice the metal door creak open. Too lost in your own anxious state of mind. “Matilda,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. As your eyes met his, he felt a wave of emotion crash over him, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

You bolted toward him, your shaky legs propelling you forward as fast as they could. The moment you collided with him, it rocked him back on impact. You clung to him, your small frame trembling as you buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your dirt-streaked hair.

He took in your state, his heart breaking at the sight. Your hair was matted slightly with grime, and you smelled of cigarettes and the harsh streets of London. But despite your disheveled appearance, you were safe. Not a scratch or mark on you. Relief washed over him, mingling with the overwhelming urge to protect you from ever feeling this kind of fear again.

“Tilly-” he began, his voice choking with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his chest.

“It’s okay-” he started to say, but you cut him off again.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Your sobs intensified, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“Tilly, it’s okay, just calm down-” His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“I was just so scared.” Your voice was small, filled with a vulnerability that shattered his heart.

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in a comforting rhythm.

“I won’t do it again! I swear! I just—”

“Matilda. Look at me.” His voice was firm yet gentle, his hands cupping your face as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face but your breathing began to steady under his calming influence.

“Let’s go home, yeah? We’ll talk about it later, just let me take you home.” His voice was soft, filled with a promise of safety and comfort.

You nodded again, a small, broken “okay” escaping your lips. He hugged you tightly once more, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He guided you to the front where the boys were waiting anxiously. Your head remained bowed, avoiding their concerned gazes. He gently sat you on the opposite end of the row of chairs, his touch soft and reassuring. “I’m gonna talk to my friends real quick, alright? They came with me, they wanted to help find you.” Your gaze drifted to the three men on the other side of the room. More specifically, to George, remembering the things Matty had told you about him and your mom and remembering his photo. “I also need to thank the policeman before we leave. I need you to stay here for a minute, can you do that for me?” You nodded silently. He gave you a short smile, and kissed your cheek before standing to find his friends.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, he turned to his friends. You were well prepared to space out again, but not before your eyes drifted to George one more time. His eyes met yours and gave them a smile. You smiled back.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Matty said, his voice low but filled with gratitude. “I’ll get us home, we can catch the tube or grab an Uber or something.”

Ross, ever the practical one, nodded. “No problem, mate. We’re here for you. Just glad she’s okay.”

Adam’s eyes were filled with empathy as he glanced at you, then back to Matty. “Yeah, anything you need. Don’t hesitate to call.”

George, however, wasn’t ready to leave so easily. “Matty, let us at least make sure you guys get home safe. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”

Matty shook his head, though he appreciated the sentiment. “I know, George, but It’s fine. I swear.”

George sighed, his concern evident. “Alright, but if you need anything, call us. Anytime.”

Matty nodded. “I will.”

With that, the three men exchanged solemn glances, their concern for Matty and you clear in their eyes. They began to walk out of the police station, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space.

As they left, Matty turned back to you, his heart aching at the sight of your small frame hunched over, your head still hung low, anxious of what was to happen next. He walked over and sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

[valsdelulucorner]

Heyo!

I just remembered that i had asked you about the different concepts and au's so i could have a better idea of what ask

What's your stardew valley Cryptid Farmer au like? People's perceptions and reactions to cryptid/eldritch farmer? Are people still romancing cryptid creature farmer 👀 who's the most chill with Eldritch Farmer?

Very interested

I just came back from a small mental health break so please don't mind any spelling mistakes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What if the farmer wasn't entirely human?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-So the Stardew valley cryptid AU, the farmer takes the place of the old farmers grandchild. It was their only chance of a normal life so they took it, discarding of the true farmer before taking their form and listening through their memories.

-In my Og wip where i explained abit about the story line, lets say that the bachelors and or the bachelorettes find you having a full blown meltdown in your farmhouse, literally. Your skin slowly melts away as you try and grab at your skin, trying to hold onto your identity. Lets say you are at 8 hearts with all of them, some would be concerned for you, some would loose their lunch at the sight of your skin, and Harvey and Hailey will 100% pass out or scream

-They do manage to calm down before going in and helping you out though, putting harvey/hailey (depends on which group you choose) on the sofa before tending to you. They may be supportive but they want answers, what are you? After a long, serious talk with them all and after regaining your human form once more, they start to trust you again but only with the promise that there will be no more secrets which you gladly accept

-You will never tell them that you arn't the true farmer, you never will. They cant know, they will never know.

-The towns people find you normal at first, just a friendly farmer that goes about their day but then it starts to become more clear that you are not normal the more your friendship goes up around the valley, though no one says anything as to not be rude. Once it does slip that you aren't human, some villagers become more weary around you, particularly the elder ones of the valley. The more you interact with them and try and regain their trust again, they will start to warm up to you once more, even impressed when you use your supernatural abilities to help around the town.

-Evelyn mentions on rainy days that the roof sometimes leaks so imagine her surprise when you morph your body and crawl up their with some supplies to fix it. The town help wanted board is easier to do know that everyone knows what you truly are so you don't have to hide it, easily morphing your body to get around the valley quicker and to make your rounds dropping off goods to the villagers. Its only when you helped robin with pams house and helped run joja out of town is when they started to actually trust you again, slowly but surely getting used to you around the valley again

-One time Abigail once got caught down in the mines and was almost seriously hurt thanks to afew of the insects, not expecting to see the absolute horror that was you absolutely obliterating them before her very eyes, only to be confused when you turned around with a soft expression and asked if she was alright (still in said form lol)

-I think the most chill out of everyone would be either Krobus or the wizard, both being supernatural beings themselves they would understand how difficult it is to be accepted into a human society

-Im not sure about who would be the least chill so i might have to go with the elders , looking mostly at George and Marlon. Marlon is a protecter of the valley, hes obviously suspicious when a random cryptid farmer waltz's in and acts like everything is fine. With george, Im not sure how to explain it but im dead set on george.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is so bad but im running off of 1 hour of sleep and 3 mango loco monsters I downed in the span of 2 hours so im sorry if its bad

Please tell me what should I improve on and What should I do next?

[bedoballoons]

hello!!! I was reading your story of the low characters in Genshin finding out that we like tall guys, imagine if it were the other way around?! How fun it would be haha

and then imagine. You’re talking with Yandere! Childe about your type of man and you say that it’s traveler because he is short. Or to Zhongli and says that we like Xiao or Venti. I was thinking in many characters to use that idea

(and I was thinking in write that, but my English is bad and I use the translator very frequently. But, I hope you understand what I’m saying because I’m bad at English and I’m learning this language lol)

sorry if have grammatical errors it’s because I’m dumb, have a good day/night!!!

You're not dumb at all!! I loved your version of this so I hope you enjoy mine as well!! Thank you for the idea <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader likes them short~༺}

CW: Yandere themes! Slight angst, very small mention of blood, a couple curse words, creepy tones, tall men find out you like short boys and they aren't happy about it!

A/n: So for the short boy you're crushing on, I made Dilucs headcanon with Albedo, Zhonglis with Xiao, Alhaithams with Cyno, Neuvillettes with Lyney and Childes with the traveler!

(Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, and Childe!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Dilucs crimson eyes stared deeply into yours, his stoic expression making you just the tiniest bit uncomfortable under his piercing gaze...it was just a simple question. All he wanted to know was your type of guy, but it was the fact that he'd never asked anything like it before and how he acted so intense afterwords, like your answer could change his life as he knew it.

"Ahem...you don't have to answer if you don't want to, I was just curious is all." He finally looked away from you, grabbing a dirty glass from the stack and rubbing it with his hand held rag, just like he would any other day. It actually calmed you down a bit to see him at work, your worries dissipating at the familiar sight, "No I don't mind, I was just...a little nervous at first. Don't go telling anyone, but I actually find Albedo pretty attractive, he's much shorter than most of the Knights of Favonious and I find it endearing."

Suddenly the glass Diluc has been holding shattered, almost like it had exploded, shards flying across the counter and onto the floor, cuts making themselves known on his hands. It made you jump halfway out of your seat, "Diluc are you alright?!"

"I-im...fine."

Never in your life had you heard such deep anger in his voice and the look in his eyes...something wasn't right.

𑁍༄Zhongli:

"You say you've taken a liking to adeptus Xiao? I must say, he's certainly a interesting character and loyal,...but he's not without his faults. His worries about karmic debt and his need to conquer demons, paired with his troublesome attitude could prove...difficult in a relationship." Zhongli set a cup of tea in front of you, speaking his mind about your recent confession, years of experience handling himself in situations like this now working in his favour.

He was more than jealous of your feelings for someone else, infact it seeped into the core of his very being and ate away at him, but for now he had to play nice. You caught more bees with honey after all, "Of course I don't want to persuade you to not try, I just hope you won't be to disappointed when he rejects the idea of it."

You took a sip of the tea, it's warm unique flavours delicious on your tongue, "I don't mind, I just don't want to give up easily. He's just... impressive is all. He's so short and yet he still somehow exudes pure strength. Amazing~" You started to daydream towards the end, thinking about the handsome adeptus while Zhongli stared into his cup of tea like he was planning to start a new archon war.

"Yes...he's so amazing."

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham was very good at not caring about other people's problems, he'd sit down with a good book while people droned on about every little thing that bothered them and he wouldn't even hear a word, he'd almost consider it a talent of his...,but then you arrived. You'd make his heart race and his pupils dilate, it was like everything in him changed, he wanted to hear all about you. Everything and anything...that is, until you mentioned your general type of man.

"I like shorter guys, they are almost always adorable and have past trauma that I can help with. Oh oh! Like General Mahamatra Cyno, he's absolutely dreamy." Your cheeks blushed at the thought of him, your heart skipping a beat, he really did have a affect on you...and it was blatantly obvious.

"You like...Cyno? I'm not his biggest fan." Alhaitham snapped his book closed loudly, making you jump and catching you completely off guard. He almost never did that, actually he'd gotten annoyed with you when you had because he said it harmed the books...although in reality you had assumed he just didn't want you touching his precious books to begin with.., "Alhaitham...what was that all about?"

"You must be blind to adoration...it's fine. One day I'll show you."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

"My apologies, but could you repeat that? Did you just say that your romantic feelings are purely based off Lyneys height...I know full well he's a bit of a flirt and that in itself along with the fact he's a famous magician would be reason enough to find him attractive,...but your main reason, is simply how tall he is?" Neuvillette sat in front of you, swirling the water in his glass with a slight look of distain, not for the beverage of course, but rather the idea of you liking...Lyney.

"There's just something about shorter men that makes me feel flustered, maybe it has something to do with the fact they are usually considered underdogs because of it, or maybe it's simply because they tend to be cuter. I don't really know, but it's the truth. What about you Neuvie?" You looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with curiosity and for a split second he thought about uttering the truth, explaining how madly in love with you he was.

He could talk for hours just about your beauty, your laugh that soothed even his darkest quells, but for now he'd keep those feelings to himself and try his best not to think of...Lyney possibly stealing you away from him. After all...a dragon could easily take out a mere magician and he didn't want to hurt anyone, at least...not yet.

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe punched the training dummy harder, his knuckles bruises with every fist he threw and his heart pounding so loud that it felt like his ears could explode...how could you like the traveler over him? It wasn't even because of strength or personality! You're only comment was, "He's not as tall as others and...I guess it just makes him standout to me." What kind of confession was that?

He threw a harder punch, anger blinding him as sent the dummy flying off its stand, clattering on the ground like cheap kindle wood. "Shit." He took a deep breath, trying to not think about you, but you were the only thing he could think about anymore...

"Childe, you know, I don't think you're supposed to break the training dummies." Your voice instantly drew his attention, eyes locking onto your beautiful self as you made your way towards him, your hands ruffling his bright orange hair and making hims swoon.

Why did you have to like someone else...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[catcze]

Do you think wrio would be the type to take the initiative for making out (among other spicy things)? Or would he wait for reader to make the first move?

I’m not thinking in terms of an established relationship, more like when they’ve been attracted to each other for a while.

Even if you don’t reply to the ask, just want to thank you for keeping the wrio simps well fed in this time of drought. I love love reading your posts, and they will help us all wait patiently till 4.1. Take care and have a good day! :D

!!! HI BABY IM SORRY IT TOOK ME 3 WEEKS TO ANSWER ⁉️⁉️ But thank you so much also ! I'm very honored to have people supporting and enjoying my works, esp. since Wrio is kind of new, so there wasn't much of an audience for x reader content of him for a little bit :D

In terms of a mutual pining, friends/coworkers-to-lovers type of situation, I think that Wriothesley would probably make the first move himself, though it would take a lot to make him snap.

He wants to make sure he's reading all the signals right. Archons forbid that he's delulu for you and imagining all the signals you're sending his way.

When it comes to you, he genuinely likes you— like, yes, in a romantic sense, but he also likes you so much as a person. He likes being around you and being able to just vibe. He likes working with you, because your teamwork just comes so naturally. And he worries that maybe he's reading the signals wrong. Maybe there's an off chance that his infatuation with you is making him see signs that aren't there. And he doesn't want to mess up your friendship, and he definitely doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. So it's gonna take some pretty strong signals from your end to convince him that he is not hallucinating those signals.

Wriothesley is fun to play with. Criminally so. That's why, on your end, even though you're definitely interested in him and you're pretty damn sure he's into you too, you'd rather that he figure the signals out himself, first.

It's kinda fun to fluster the Duke of Meropide, don't you think? The guy has a reputation for being stoic and (to some) rather intimidating, so it's a little cute to see him react to your playful flirting, and sometimes even have him flirt back too! And yes, you could end this little back and forth game early by making the first move but... why spoil the fun? It's not like you're in a rush, anyways.

A little short becauseeee im getting sleepy and my brain isn't working enough to give me a good ending HAHHAHA BUT 👀 if anyone is interested i have an idea of how a cont. of this could go sooooo 👀👀👀

[skullhorn59]

Heavenly Hell 2

A/N: second chapter! no spicey here just yet. sorry!~ im not that good at writing yet. xP Tags/Warnings are added progressively, design changed/fixed with time. mostly proofread! Summary: you have always been a fan of the show Hazbin Hotel in your life - and as you are spawned in a Hell identically matching the Show, you can't believe your sheer luck. you're immediately on your way to eagerly meet the celebrities (at least they are in your world), but your arrival hadn't gone unnoticed... Pairings: Lucifer, Valentino, Adam, Alastor, Vox, Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk x Fem!Reader Warnings/Promises: self aware and insecure Reader, Spoilers for the Show, Vox, Attempted Manipulation, successful Manipulation

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Minors DNI 🚨🚔

"so, tell me, what useful information could you, someone this new to hell, possibly have?"

Vox sits down and leans back in his chair, watching you with a bored expression on his screen. urgh. right. he probably watched you spawning (arriving?) in hell. this is gonna be a hard one to explain. fiddling with your fingers anxiously, you look everywhere but at his screen.

you already regret coming here first, and not getting yourself a fidget toy first or something. or some pills to help keep your anxiety down. shit, you probably look scared out of your mind right now. he's gonna think you're really weird and rude if you speak up like this. or straight up lying. but for fucks sake - you can't bring yourself to look directly at him.

instead - you take in your surroundings. Vox's office. you only know it's impressive size from the Screenshots of the show, and literally sitting in it now is even more impressive. it consists of a gigantic room, an equally gigantic shark tank below, and a big round platform in the middle, which is connected to the door with a long passway. no idea how this could possibly fit into the tower without having it collapse from the sheer weight of the water alone - the only logical answer would be it being underground.

your eyes wander back to the platform, which is decorated with Vox's emblem. illuminated by a bright array of screens behind it, a round control pult sits at the back end of the platform. infront of it in a spinny chair with it's tips pointing upwards, is a rather impatient looking Vox seated.

oops.

you better get to answering his question.

you clear your throat and swallow, unsure how to even start. thankfully, you get your own chair - manifested with a wave of Vox's hand - to sit into. hoping you aren't sweating too visibly right now, you collect your thoughts. if you know one thing, it's not to sell yourself short.

"well, you see, that's hard to explain. and, you, as the head of.. technology.., surely understand that information is a valuable resource. I can't just.. give it away for free."

taking a deep breath, you lean back a little, trying to at least look more relaxed than you actually are. nervousness isn't even close anymore, like, are you panicking already?? well, at least you can mask it pretty well, you think.

"but I can say this much: I have so much information on Alastor," you think you hear a slight glitch coming from Vox at the mention of the name, "and the others in the Hotel, it's not even funny. Just.. I have a few small questions for you first."

a short glance up into the TV Demon's face tells you he raised an eyebrow. is he interested?? you hope he is. with all you got.

"go on, ask your questions."

wait. isn't he usually more talkative than that? nono, you can't spend a thought on that right now. you need to focus.

"When did the last extermination happen?"

"about a week ago."

"okay.. any interesting or unexpected turns of events? I just have to know what happened and what didn't. I-I know this sounds cryptic, and maybe even crazy, but I need to know at what time I got here."

silence fills the room for a moment. you dare to glance at the Overlord again, and he musters you with an expression you can't quite place.

did you mess up?

But Vox interrupts your thought before you can continue it. "... the hotel members fought back against the Angels, and won. that's all." relieved, you let out breath you didn't realize you were holding. okay. that's good to know. so the extermination already happened. it makes a good bunch of your information useless, but still. you can work with that. now you just need to-

"I think I provided enough information to you now," the Overlord begins, interrupting your thoughts again. his voice is oddly sweet. "its time you return the favor, my dear." - of course, he's trying to get the info out of you without paying for it.

how greedy.

you adjust your position on the chair, crossing one leg over the other, before looking directly at him. he's wearing his signature smile, his digital eyes looking  almost affectionately at you, but you know better than to trust the façade he put on.

"I told you, I'm not going to just give it away for free. And don't even try to fob me off with stuff like any of your products, pins, an autograph or similar worthless knick-knacks. That won't work on me. Trust me."

you glance at him again to gauge his reaction, and he seems surprised to hear you use his own slogan against him, but he quickly regains his composure. good. now just don't get any hypnotizing ideas, Vox...

"No, what I want is... actually quite simple. I want to be able to come and go to the entirety of this tower how and when I please. and.." you can't help a small smile at the thought of the Moth Man, "I want to see Valentino. preferably after our conversation."

and again, silence fills the room. you watch him tap the armrest of his chair with his fingers, thinking about your demands. you can't tell if he's going to give in to them or just declare you as crazy and throw you out, but you hope dearly it's not the latter.

just as the silence begins to get uncomfortable, the TV Demon clicks his tongue and stands up. your eyes dart up, and you automatically stand up too. what's happening? is he gonna throw you out now? - "alright. I accept. you may come and go freely, I'll get you your meeting with Val, and in turn, I get all the information you got on the Hotel and it's residents. Deal?"

Staring down at the hand he holds out, your mind whirls for a moment, overwhelmed with the action. you never thought he'd also make deals like Alastor - another detail they're matching each other in. you always thought he'd just somehow get peoples souls with sneaky contracts being signed when buying a Voxtek product or something.

as soon as you take his cold hand, he gives yours a firm shake, his smile widening to a grin as his face glitches momentarily. bright blue electrical currents and sparks begin to flow around the two of you for a moment, together with an intense blue light and a metallic screech. but as soon as it came, it's gone, and before you can waste a thought on it, Vox lets go of your hand, instead placing his around your shoulders as he guides you towards the door. "fantastic. now that that's done, how about we go check if Val's got some free time for you, hmm?"

you're confused.

doesn't he want your informations now?

on second thought - you don't mind too much. this way you have more of a reason to stick around and return.

─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist

─❲♡❳▷Main List

[wr1t3w1tm3]

More unsolicited thoughts on The Outsiders a New Musical.

Tw: mention of suicide in some of the last paragraphs. If you've read the book/watched the movie, ya know.

Contains spoilers for all forms of The Outsiders (book, movie, and musical). All spoilers are below the cut.

I figured out why some of the songs in the new Outsiders musical didn't make as much sense.

They changed several plot points!!!

Most aren't egregious and I'm cool with them, but there are a couple they got me some kinda way.

(This is based if the plot synopsis on Wikipedia. It could be wrong but it's all I've got cause im a broke pleb).

In Chronological Order:

Obviously there is no Steve. Personally don't care either way. Like him and Soda's platonic relationship, particilarly what we see in the movie, but otherwise I understand why it was easier to cut his role.

Johnny only got jumped a week before the musical (but then Justice for Tulsa sounds weird because Cherry suggests Johhny killed because of how Bob treated him and she implies that he was hurt a while ago...? IDK man. Not to big a gripe but it's just weird).

Grease got a Hold is essentially a ritual initiation because Ponyboy survived getting jumped (they skip his getting saved by the gang by having Pony get knocked out) so him surviving makes him a Greaser? I don't understand and frankly I would've preferred slightly less deviation from the source material here but again, I don't mind this change, it's all down to preference.

I almost don't like how much of a main character Darry has become? Like I like him in the adaptation, but I feel like his upgrade came at the cost of the downgrade of Soda and Two-Bit. I love both those characters and from what I've read/heard they both had there roles reduced, Soda it seems almost severely. But typical middle child shit I guess. Again, he could have a lot of speaking bits because I'm going off a couple synonpses and the cast album, but man I miss him. And Two Bit. I hope that they at least had him and Pony together going to visit Johnny. That's one of my favorite parts of the book and movie.

They add a scene between Johnny and Dally where Dally sees Johnny outside his house. I'm out of order here bit it's the night before the Drive In. Johnny says he's afraid to leave because his dad could kill his mom? Interesting take on that relationship but okay. I do love this scene personally.

I don't know if we get the Two Bit and Marcia fling. It didn't get mentioned in the plot synopsis so I won't comment further.

The addition of Ponyboy going unconcscious during the first fight means I get a two nickles meme about Ponyboy blacking out during fights in this musical.

There's no Randy?!?!? @annacatbeth13 said he got cut for the Broadway run and I'm sorry. He is a hella good character and even though his movie role is reduced, he's so good. I kinda feel like the musical suffers by having only Cherry as the oposition to Soc POV when you've got minimum of Pony and Johnny verbally against the Greaser POV and Darry is very much contrary in action during the book/movie and verbally here.

B/c there's no Randy a lot of Bob and Randy scenes are just Bob and Soc scenes.

I'm sorry, the fact that the guy who plays Bob plays the cop that investigates Bob's murder is sending me. MF rolls up like "yeah, I didn't just die here. This is fine" and everyone rolls with it. It's show business, I understand, but I feel like if I saw this show in person I'd notice and I'd lose it.

Also, I'm gonna note here that Brent Comer played Paul in La Jolla and now plays Darry. Ironic. Speaking of Paul and Darry as much as I don't like them removing Randy using Paul to fill his role as Bob's friend works quiet well. However, isn't Paul 20? And wasn't Bob like 17 or 18? I have questions that I'm not sure I can answer so I'm just gonna assume they were friends in high school and Paul stayed local for college.

I also don't know if they end up going to the Dairy Queen? Like the synopsis says that Dally comes up to see them and that it's Pony's discarded cigarette that starts the fire... but then the kids show up out of nowhere so where the hell did they come from? This entire incident is assumedly spoken so all I've got's the synopsis.

I was told again by @annacatbeth13 that Randy sang Hopeless War with Cherry and Pony and dammit, they took out that entire thing and that is such a catalyst for Ponyboy seeing the world in shades of gray like Cherry mentions in Hopeless War and I'm... I'm sorry. It just feels kinda wrong. I understand why they had to cut him but dammit it doesn't mean I'm not sad.

Everything in the hospital feels rushed. It does seem like they cut the Two-Bit taking Pony to the hospital bit (which makes sense, still sort of makes me mad). It also sounds like they upped Johnny's charge to first degree murder!! Like that doesn't make sense to me. He didn't premeditate shit. I honestly don't even think you could get second degree murder to stick. They then just mention and drop the charges in like the same song? Or in pretty rapid succession because it seems like the cut the juvenile court and Darry having to be checked on by the state storylines. Again, I understand having to strip a musical down to be a bit more barebones because of time contsraints but, like, if Fiddler can have four different plot lines within the same family, you can have the main issue, the sibling fight, and the Pony/Cherry/Randy bit. It's only three plotlines. I don't know why this makes me so mad but it does and IDK why?

I love Trouble. I love Darry in that song. And Dally. But also... Pony in the book and movie has been in multiple rumbles. It is mentioned in greater detail in the book and I don't know how I feel about them making Ponyboy so innocent. Like. He was never innocent, in the book and the movie. Everyone just thought he was? Again, simplifying for time constraints but I do miss it.

I like what they did with Paul. He's always felt very flat, more of a mirror to reflect Darry against same as Steve reflected Soda and Cherry/Randy/Johnny reflected Pony. But I do like the sort of righteous indignation they gave this version of Paul. It gives him that little bit of motivation to convince me that he should be at the rumble, despite being 20. Because in the book we get told that Darry is there specifically as the leader of Pony's "gang" but we don't get told why Paul is there so it feels odd. The musical does rectify that, which I kind of like.

However, I have to say I love Dally and Johnny's relationship in this musical. Just based on what I've seen they made it the most clear and concise interpretation of all versions of this story. Both songs where Dally talks to Johnny he refers to him as little brother, which cements that relationship and helps us understand why he eventually snaps. Which I will be talking about but I cannot give enough praise for their relationship.

I also cannot give enough praise for Cherry. I don't know exactly what they did, and they really ramped up Cherry's invovlement because she had to take some of Randy's place but they did such a good job with her. I like how they put her in the middle of all the conflicts (mostly with the Justice for Tulsa number) and I think seeing how she reacts really cemented this version as my favorite. I think they manage to get across that she actually does care about Johnny and Pony as people. All the other versions she comes off as pitying them which I don't like because it feels fake. And I understand why Pony doesn't like her. I kind of like that her relationship with him extends to her giving him Johnny's clothes because she starts volunteering at the hospital. I think that also helps humanize her too.

Alright, this is the most egrious change, in my humble opinion. They change how Dally dies. I think that him commiting suicide is necessary to the story, but in the musical he JUMPS IN FRONT OF A TRAIN!! You could argue that this is because a train killed the Curtis Parents (as seen in the complete novel edition of the movie) and you could argue that it's a symbol of death or of constancy for the Curtis' as they lose people to trains (technically Pony and Johnny are taken away to Windrixville via train). However... I think it still would've made more sense to stick to Dally dying via suicide by cop. It seems like they cut the Dairy Queen scene and if they did they probably cut Dally carrying a heater, which then makes the suicide by cop not work so they have him jump in front of a train... but that still feels out of character to me. I could be wrong, but when Pony talks about how Dally would go, he says Dally would die young and violent and angry. Him jumping in front of a train doesn't tell me he was angry. It tells me he was depressed. While you still get desperation, it's sad desperation. Not the angry desperation that you get with him doing the suicide by cop.

It would not surprise me in the slightest if they choose not to use Dally's original death because of the police discourse in the media. I want to say now that I have several cops/ex-cops in my family and from what they have told me, if someone pulled a stunt like what Dally did in the movie/book, they would be forced to shoot. It becomes a kill or be killed situation because they don't know if the gun is loaded. Now, the offending officer would be tried later on for manslaughter or related crimes but probably acquitted because they couldn't have known (in the movie it's debatable because the gang yells that the gun isn't loaded, but the police still probably wouldn't have listened). I think that the writers probably wanted to avoid having that controversy drum up. I can't blame them, still pisses me off.

All that being said, I do like this adaptation. But of the three versions of this piece of media, it's my least favorite. Love all the songs, love what characters we do have, and this is by far my favorite Cherry and my favorite portrayal of Johnny and Dally's relationship, but I don't like what they did to Dally in the end. No hard feelings against anyone who likes this or the creatives behind it, but it's just not my favorite and I don't know how faithful I would consider this adaptation.

[ask-turnedtechgodhead]

this thing on

fuck yes aight check this shit out-

DAVE, I'VE BEGRUDGINGLY COME TO UNDERSTAND THAT STANDING IN A CORNER ALONE SPEWING THE TYPE OF NONSENSICAL BABBLE ONE MIGHT EXPECT FROM A WRIGGLER IS WHAT PASSES FOR ENTERTAINMENT IN YOUR EMPTY THINK PAN.

I'VE EVEN BEGUN TO APPRECIATE IT, IF ONLY BECAUSE WE NEEDED *SOMETHING* TO FILL THE AGONISINGLY LONG SWEEP WE WERE STUCK ON THAT OTHERWISE SILENT AND YET SOMEHOW JUST AS MISERABLE FUCKING ROCK HURTLING THROUGH SPACE TOWARDS CERTAIN DEATH. BUT WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING SHIT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT BULBOUS FUCKING OVERGROWTH JAMMED AGAINST YOUR RIDICULOUS EYEWEAR?

damn man i thought we covered this in our human tech 101 lessons. its a camera- I KNOW ITS A CAMERA. I WAS TRYING TO LOWER MYSELF TO YOUR LEVEL SO THAT MAYBE YOU WOULD DECIDE TO GRACE ME WITH YOUR ATTENTION AND ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT I HAD TO SAY. try harder SHUT UP. AND ANSWER THE QUESTION. how the hell am i supposed to answer the question if im shutting up? cant have it both ways bro. cant just have your cake and eat it too you either eat that bitch or shut your mouth forever and starve to death- HOLY SHIT WE BOTH KNOW YOU AREN'T GOING TO SHUT UP EITHER WAY. COULD YOU AT LEAST DO ME THE MERCY OF TELLING ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING BEFORE I DROWN IN THE PUTRID STREAM OF BULLSHIT CASCADING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?

documentary CARE TO EXPAND UPON THAT? OR AM I NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO GET MORE THAN ONE WORD OUT OF YOU? SHOULD I BE PROSTRATING BEFORE YOU THANKING YOU FOR DEIGNING TO GRACE ME WITH ONE WORD FROM YOUR TIGHT ASS LIPS? 'DOCUMENTARY'. TRULY A HOLY WORD. RELIGIONS WILL FORM AROUND THIS ONE WORD, DAVE. HOLY BOOKS WILL BE WRITTEN ABOUT THOSE ELEVEN LETTERS. TODAY WILL BE CELEBRATED NOT AS THE DAY WE CREATED A NEW UNIVERSE, NO- TODAY WILL BE FOREVER MARKED AS THE DAY DAVE FUCKING STRIDER SAID 'DOCUMENTARY'-

AND GET THAT FUCKING THING OUT OF MY FACE YOU NOOKWHIFFER

holy shit check it out im being censored already

karkat do you support censorship

is this what this is karkat

is this where we find out that this entire session has been your master plan to create a new world for you to go stalin on its ass

because dude im so down to create some propaganda for supreme leader vantases glorious reign

just let me finish this shit first cmon man

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO AGREE TO THAT WHEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT 'THIS SHIT' IS?

i told you man

IF YOU SAY DOCUMENTARY I SWEAR-

documentary

about the creation of the new universe

no big deal or nothing just thought it could be mildly interesting to get on camera

idk ill probably tape over it later for some shitty sitcom rerun

do you think theyll have the simpsons on the new planet

god i hope they do

AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS.

troll the simpsons

YOU CAN'T JUST PUT 'TROLL' IN FRONT OF SOME PANDEAD EARTH THING AND EXPECT ME TO KNOW WHAT IT IS AND HONESTLY, I'M DOWNRIGHT FUCKING INSULTED THAT YOU'D THINK THAT ALTERNIA HAD ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY COMPARABLE TO YOUR EYEGOUGING EXCUSES FOR 'MEDIA'. MY PLANET ACTUALLY HAD STANDARDS, UNLIKE YOUR MISERABLE PILE OF DIRT.

says the guy that was responsible for that pile of dirt

and didnt even record its creation

imagine being an absent father to a whole universe karkat. what the fuck man

thank god im here to break the cycle of abuse

OH, I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RECORD YOUR WASTE OF SPACE PLANET BEING CREATED - I WAS TOO BUSY NEARLY GETTING MURDERED BY THE MURDERBEAST *YOU*-

oh shit idiot shuts up now

thats you youre the idiot

STRIDER I SWEAR TO FUCK

dude seriously shut up

hes doing it man

hes making it hapen

=>

[re-colligere]

oooOOhh. this spy au has got me in a chokehold crying sobbing. If I can ask, what are Dr. Axyon's motives (unless it's a secret)?? Is she actually an evil mastermind in this au or is she still kinda. cringefail morally grey like in canon? is the mask just for show/intimidation or does she wear it for a reason? Her design in this au is so. RAHH 💕💖🧡 sorry sorry about the questions 😭 I have so many about everyone and this whole story but im trying to maintain the illusion of being Normal™

AKDSJFHJKH AHH I'm super duper happy people are this interested in the au, I never would've imagined honestly ;u; also IT'S OKAYY don't worry about the questions! They could actually help me too with additional writing bits (since I tend to only focus on the important stuff), it gets those creative gears going >:] so I'd be more than happy to answer them :3

...I mean. That is. if it's not spoilery </3 in which case I DO need to be a little secretive about it (for now!) Just like right now, with Dr. Axyon's motivations...that's a big ol' secret >:3c !! It'll be revealed in due time since, with the plot I'm thinking of, it basically revolves around her movements.

as for the evil mastermind / actually a bit cringefail but morally gray, right now I'll leave that up to you guys' judgements! Partly because it's tied very closely to her main motive so I can't say that Outright...but I also want to see what you guys think about her so far 👍 She also wears a mask for a Reason, intimidation is a bonus but as the mastermind she usually doesn't come face to face with her enemies that much.

Again, I really do appreciate quastions and such I VERY much encourage them!! It's just gonna be a thing with me that I'll be irritatingly vague about some of them because I do want to tell a self-contained linear story with them, eventually...................I can only dream... but otherwise PLEASE please please. you don't have to be normal about them because I sure aren't!!!! and idk it's just really neat to know that people are invested enough in the things i do to feel like that. So it's a huge compliment for me LMAO!! Thank you!!

[saviorkid]

la libertà

I lost the request for this one :(( but it was basically about a fluff phoebe x reader

Fem!reader x Phoebe bridgers, mostly fluff

REMINDER!!!! my first language is not english, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes 💘

I felt the gentle breeze hitting my skin as I watched the sea, on that balcony that would remain engraved in my heart for the rest of my days.

I took a deep breath

Is this a dream?

I could smell the soft smell of ocean salt and the sun stinging my skin and that's how I felt and I felt something that characterized those little vacations in southern Italy; The freedom

or I most to say la libertá

Lost in that landscape, I suddenly felt the warmth of her body hugging my back

"Good morning" she said in a hoarse voice

I answered a very shyly 'hi'

I could still feel the nerves of that first time I saw her, even though we had already been a couple for a long time.

She kissed my neck with tenderness because of my obvious embarrassment.

She loved to joke about my shyness, and I very proudly said that it bothered me when in reality it made me melt over her

"You got up early today, aren't you tired from last night" she said with that playful tone that characterized her

she laughed when I responded with a little smack.

"I just wanted to see the sunrise for the last time".

Today was our last day in Positano, a lovely village in the Amarfil coast and it was a total dream.

This vacation were actually our first ones after a long distance relationship because of Phoebe's tour with the boys

I actually can put on words how magic was this trip with her, I think I could never get ove-

"Babe? are you alive? " Phoebe ask with a little laugh

"Yes yes, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I asked you what do you wanted to do for our last day"

"oh, I actually don't know yet... but" I told her as I slowly turned my body to look into her eyes in a hug

She looked at my with so much love and also with with a confused face

"But?"

I give her a little kiss and said

"The only thing that I want it's you and me on that bed..."

"Oh yes?" She seemed very interested in my idea

"Yep" I said and gave hee a long kiss that ended up being a little more intense than I thought and I cut it off to tell her

"Yes, you and me im bed eating some pancakes"

I swear I almost saw the disappointment until she understood what I said and smiled flirtatiously.

"Yes, if it's that what my ragazza wants"

I kissed her quickly and ran to the kitchen searching for the ingredients

and as I began to prepare the pancakes I saw her silhouette next to the door, still without seeing her.

I felt the little smile in her face

¿Do you want them with syrup ? I asked her

"I think that question is illegal" She said as she sat at the small kitchen bar that connected to the living room

“Here they are” I said and left the plates on the table. "Thanks love"

We enjoyed the comfortable silence of our breakfast while we tried those pancakes. Everything felt soft and surreal, neither of the two wanted to break that bubble of love and warmth in that apartment.

Phoebe looked at me for a while and simply took my hand and pulled me into the room.

I felt confused but I let myself go with it

Phoebe just lay down on the bed and softly said "Come here" as she hit the bed.I laughed as I looked at her in confusion.

I lay down on the bed and hugged her. "I think someone has been bitten by the love bug."

She didn't say anything and simply hugged my nakedness, which was very common for both of us but this time she felt different.It felt like one of those moments that stays etched in your heart. And she just said it, like it was nothing, like there was no fear of feeling it.

"I love you"

There was silence for a few minutes, insecurity had taken over me and I thought it was a little joke. But when I had the strength to look into her eyes I could see the love and her fear, and that's when I knew.

we were in love

A true love

They tipe of love that would leave marks on our bodies

So I kissed her, I kissed her like I had never done before. Leaving fears and insecurities behind, I only wanted her.

So i said it

"I love you, And I don't think I've ever felt anything like that for anyone else."

OMG?!

my first fic *crying*

I actually believe that it's I think it's bullshit but I tried it 🥺Thank you very much for the anon

XOXO, vic