#just pisses me off. ‘is there anything i could do to help you’ you could stop making me feel like absolute garbage for something my brain

[mit0bee]

ℍ𝕌𝕊𝔹𝔸ℕ𝔻!

Calling the twst boys your husband!

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

warnings: fem!reader, no beta we die like men, yuu!reader, harassment (leonas part), pre-book 7 malleus

a/n: hi im very sick take this unfinished work from my drafts (I PROMISE ILL MAKE MORE OF THIS I JUST CANT LOOK AT A SCREEN ANYMORE 💔) plz tell me if theres any inaccuracies since i do not have the energy to read it through

also it got glitched out this morning when i tried to use my phone to finish it so now theres bullet points everywhere

It wasn't actually intentional when you called him your husband, more of a spur of the moment thing.

During a (n unwilling) adventure to Sam's, a guy had come up to you. Of course, being the mysterious transfer from another world had garnered you some popularity. One such consequence were people like him.

"Hey. You're that transfer girl, right?" The boy asked. He looked like a badly designed sleazeball from a basic anime; dyed hair, quite a few piercings, and a look on his face that just screamed incel.

"Uh. Yeah." You looked between the milk you had in your hand, the guy, and Leona, who was out of earshot, eyeing a selection of meat Sam had on display. "Why?" You could practically feel the dread in your gut. He obviously wasn't trying to be friends. Or, at least, not the good kind of friends.

"I was just wondering..." Smirking, he took a few steps to close the gap between the two of you, "Some of my friends and I were going to have a little party down in the woods behind the school. We could use some entertainment."

"Er...." Your head tilted downwards in fluster. This guy didn't seem like the type to take no for an answer. Even if you tried to pull the 'I have a boyfriend', he probably wouldn't listen, "My.... husband and I had plans." You blurted out. It was a split second decision, but there was no way this guy would go after a married woman. Right?

"Oh, husband." You shot Leona a look; one that begged for help. He turned from where he had been very focused, and noticed the sleazy guy pestering you. His ears flattened against his head, and his expression shifted from curiosity to irritation. "Come over here."

The nameless guy looked very close to pissing himself when he saw just who you were referring to. The Leona Kingscholar. But he had a wife? Since when?!

"Oh. Uh. Him?" The guy asked, almost unbelieving. There was no way someone like him would be tied down. He could barely go to class, much less commit to someone!

But, as if by fate, the lazy lion gave a smug smirk and rested his hand over your shoulder. "What's up, wife?" He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "This guy buggin' ya?"

You smiled knowingly, "I don't know. Are you?" Your tone wasn't one to be underestimated. All three of you knew what was going down. The only difference between You and Leona, and the guy was that the guy couldn't do anything to refute your claim.

"N-No, ma'am!" The guy stiffened, which made Leona let out a huff of amusement, "I'll be on my way now!" He announced, running off with his tail between his legs.

You and Leona were left in silence for the next few moments, both of you not wanting or having anything to say. It was Leona, though, who broke the silence.

"Husband?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." You faced your lover with redder cheeks than before, "He was getting on my nerves, and it was the quickest way for him to leave me alone." You sighed, your eyes trailing from Leonas emerald ones to the wooden floor of the shop, "I know we haven't talked about it. Sorry..."

Leona rolled his eyes at your change in demeanor. You went from confident to bashful in only the span of a minute or two. "Whaddya talking about? I never said I wouldn't mind getting married, so don't apologize." He stated, keeping his arm around your shoulders.

"Wha...?" You gazed back up at him with shock, your mouth slightly ajar. You would accept him not wanting to get married, and it was a real possibility you had prepared for in the past. Now he's stating he might want to?

He didn't explain further, and opted to (surprisingly gently) lead you out of the store. "Let's go." He said, "I'll get Ruggie to finish the trip."

------------

"Sam. What is this?"

"It's a wedding present, my little imp!" Sam presented you with a large purple box. It had a glittery black ribbon tied into a perfect bow at its plateau. "Don't think I didn't see what you and the Savanaclaw housewarden were doing in my shop a few days ago!"

You took the box carefully. Knowing Sam, just about anything could be inside. It could be the best thing you could ever receive, but it also could be a load of crap you'd never use.

"Look here!" Sam lifted up two items from inside the box. One was an iridescent stone, while the other looked like a black ticket with gold accents. He held out the stone, "This one is a lucky charm! Perfect for newlyweds, right?" Then, he held out the ticket, "And this gets you a 1% discount at any Sam's Mystery Shop locations in all of Twisted Wonderland! Terms and Conditions apply."

You smiled, but felt the irritation in your body growing. You and Leona weren't actually getting married. It was just a topic of discussion now. But, the items might come in handy around Ramshackle, and you'd take all the help you could get. It wasn't like everything would be useless, right?

You decided to grit your teeth and bear it, "Thank you, Sam. Really." You let him place the two items back in the box, "We'll be sure to use all of this." You quickly turned on your heel to escape.

"Oh, and tell the kitty I said hi!" He called out as you left. Once you were gone, he placed a hand on his cheek with a sigh.

"Ah, young love."

Azul has a lot of business partners.

With all of those partners comes lots of exhausting meetings. His only escape from all of it is you.

Though, that doesn't mean your opposed to playing a prank or two on him to lift his spirits.

Azul dropped down onto his (your shared at this point) bed, and you couldn't help the snicker that you let out at this rare side of him.

"Rough day?" You asked. One of your hands dropped from your book to find purchase in his hair. He let out a relaxed groan, slowly moving his way from the side of the bed to lay on top of you.

"You wouldn't believe. Dozens of grown men and not even one can solve a simple problem." He sighed, remembering the horrid, stale meeting he had to endure, "They're leading me to believe most landers are like this."

You closed your book with a crisp clap, setting it on the safe right by his bed. Instead, you devoted your time to messing with his well-kept hair. "Not all of them. I'm an exception, right? As your wife?"

"That's true-" He paused, your words sinking on him like a heavy weight. His face exploded into a coral pink, and he inelegantly picked himself up onto all fours, looking into your eyes with confusion and maybe a little glee. "What...? Wife..? As in- Us?" One of his hands frantically pointed between the two of you.

"Unless you don't want to get married to a foolish lander." Pouting, you knew he'd take the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. "It's fine. I get it. Species racism, you know?"

Desperately, he shook his head. "No! That's not it at all!" He brought his face dangerously close to yours, "I just wasn't expecting it." As if realizing how close you were, he averted his eyes from yours, "...I was supposed to receive my grandmothers ring. After graduation."

After such an honest confession, you felt your resolve for the prank crumble into a million pieces. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, earning a surprised yelp from him. "Azul!" Is all you could manage to articulate.

"....Y-Yes, my love?" His voice was muffled from being so close to you, but you could still hear the worry in his tone. It didn't make you feel any more calm, though, and you squeezed him even harder.

"I think we need to get married right now."

"What?!"

-------------

The next morning was surprisingly uneventful. The only thing you could notice of slight difference was the weird looks you got from the twins, and the slightly softer way Azul treated you. It was only that evening that everything shifted on its axis.

You were waiting in Mostro for Azul to finish with some contracts. Not wanting to bother him, you waited in the main dining area, lone in a booth. Only lone for a while, though, as the aforementioned Leech twins came strolling up with knowing smirks.

"So..." Floyd started, "Miss Ashengrotto, huh?" He sat right next to you, "You apparently had a whole spectacle last night. Very romantic."

"Just make sure you both don't forget us as newlyweds." Jade engaged in the teasing too, but didn't sit nearly as close. "We'd be very lonely. Right, Floyd?"

"Yup. Anyway. Baby names."

"Huh?!"

"Floyd Junior has a nice ring to it."

"Or Jade Junior."

"What are you three talking about?"

"........"

"We should leave. Come on, Floyd." Jade stood up, taking Floyd by the arm and dragging him out of the booth.

"Yeah. Have fun, lovebirds."

"So..." You smiled sheepishly, "How is my fantastic husband doing?" You said, just loud enough for anyone in the immediate vicinity to whip their heads around and gawk.

"Please." Azul chuckled, "I'm good. How is my beautiful wife?"

"Ready to give you a baby." You whispered.

"Slow down!"

on one of the rare times idia actually went out of his room, it was for this limited deluxe edition of a game he had been waiting for for months.

problem was, it was an in-store only promo. if he wanted the game, he'd have to endure the stress of other people.

if only to make the trip a little less painful on his cortisol receptors, he decided to invite you to join him.

the store was packed. like the only reason the two of you got in was because you had waited there for at least five hours before it opened.

even then, it took another hour or two to actually get to the checkout with two copies of the game in hand.

it was at the checkout that the incident happened.

after being out and waiting for almost half your day, you had obviously gotten bored.

and what better cure for your boredom than to play a silly little prank on your unsuspecting boyfriend?

"You two excited for the release?" The clerk asked. He looked obviously exhausted, but kept a weary smile and his tone light. "I hear this ones better than the prequel. Bugs and cheeses have all been patched."

You nodded enthusiastically, deciding that now was the time to enact your totally thought-out plan, "Yup! My husband and I are going to have a little gaming date. Right, Id-" You turned to your boyfriend, stopping your sentence midway through. He looked like his entire brain shut off, hair lit up a bright pink and his face dusted with a blush to rival even the reddest tone. If he was a cartoon, he'd have steam coming out of his ears and the top of his skull would come up like a geyser.

"I- Um- My-" He couldn't even utter a single sentence. "My wife-" He gestured to you. Eventually, he gave up on even trying to articulate himself, slammed the required thaumark bills on the counter, and made his way out of there as quickly as he could. Unceremoniously, he shoved you (with surprising gentleness considering how clumsy he was being) into the passenger seat of his rarely used car, and quickly turned to book it into the drivers seat.

The two of you sat there in silence for a minute or two. His expression was unreadable, and you couldn't tell if it was upset, excitement, or anxiety.

He finally broke the silence with a mumble. ".... -married?"

"I couldn't hear you, hun. What'd you say?"

"I said.... -get married?"

"My love. Please speak up."

"I SAID, DO YOU REALLY WANT TO GET MARRIED?!"

"......."

"........"

"What...?"

"You know. Because I'm not very marriage material...?" His statement was more of a question, and he turned away from you in shame, "I mean, there are all of those princes at NRC. SS+ level otome MMC's."

"Idia."

"I was just thinking you'd rather them."

"Idia."

"I mean, there's, like, a million of them." He fiddled with the bottom hem of his hoodie in embarrassment. God, if he could just hide in a hole forever-

"IDIA!" You snapped, taking him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at you, "I don't want them. I want you." Putting on your best comforting smile, you leaned over the gearbox to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I woke up at five A.M. for this. If that doesn't make it clear that I'd want you and only you, then maybe me saying it to your face will."

If it was even possible his hair got even wilder and even pinker. It was a miracle it didn't set everything in the car on fire. "A-Are you sure...?" He half-whispered, half-squeaked.

You nodded, placing a hand on his cheek. Your other hand rested on the gearbox so you could lean closer to him. "Dead serious."

Idia's cheeks lit up pink, and all of the blue that had been slowly returning to his firey hair vanished, being replaced by the previous pink once more. "L-Let's just get back to NRC..." He managed to mumble out.

Malleus wasn't the most expressive person. When a simple upset could smite an entire family, the benefits of feeling anger or ecstasy paled in comparison to the concequences.

That wasn't to say he didn't have his moments, though.

Your plan was simple; when Malleus least expected it, you'd call him by the sweet nickname, and watch his head explode. Or, at least, show some more feeling than slightly pleased or slightly upset.

The two of you were walking the halls of NRC almost ritualistically. It had become a routine for Malleus to meet you outside of your classes and escort you to your next one. He was so dedicated that not even most urgencies could prevent him from seeing you. You had asked him a few weeks prior on why he was so devoted, but he only responded with a cryptic 'it's my duty'.

Arriving at your classroom, you leaned up and pressed a quick peck to his cheek. "Thank you, husband." You whispered. You expected him to react in a giddy manner, but quite the contrary, he only reciprocated your smile and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"You're welcome, my wife." He smiled just a little more than he usually did. "I must get to my own class. I'll see you afterwards." And with that, he waved off a confused you.

He didn't even seem to be bothered by the nickname. What's more, is that he called you his wife! Last you checked, you weren't married! Was he just playing along? Or was he trying to retort your prank in his own way? You were supposed to be pranking him!

-----------

Your mind raced with possibilities for the entire time you were in class. It got so bad that Trein had to reprimand you in front of all of your peers. But, in your defense, how were you supposed to focus?! The only solace you got was the dismissal bell, knowing you'd be able to see your fae lover once more.

When you exited the class, Malleus was waiting in front of the door as per usual. He unconsciously and unintentionally was splitting the student body in half like a stone in a river. They avoided him as best they could, knowing full well he was here for you.

"My beloved." He strode his way up to you, the black current of people moving in reaction, "Was your class satisfactory?" He took your hand in his. The two of you had a little extra time now in your schedules due to your paired spare periods (courtesy of the oh-so generous Headmage Crowley. He was definitely not intimidated by a certain dragon fae into it. No sir, no ma'am).

"Mhm." You peered into his eyes thoughtfully, trying to read just what exactly had happened earlier. If it had been a prank on his part, surely there'd be some evidence of amusement, right? You stared like this all the way into the courtyard, where he finally noticed with a furrowed brow and slight pout.

"Something is troubling you."

Oops. You were caught, "It's nothing. Really." You tried to soothe his worries, but your attempts were in vain and only made him worry more.

"You're lying to me." He stopped in his tracks, causing you to turn to face him. He crossed his arms in an almost childlike fashion, "You shouldn't be trying to suffer alone. As your husband I have a duty to help you, do I not?"

With his final sentence, you couldn't help but sigh. You obviously wouldn't get answers from him by just staring. He was as straight faced as a stone cold killer.

"....Can I ask you a question...?" You requested hesitantly. Maybe it was just nothing. If the two of you were just in an unspoken prank war, it might be best to not bring it up.

"Yes." He answered instantaneously, almost before you got your question out. "Anything."

"Are you calling me your wife as a joke?" You blurted out the entire question at once. Luckily, the courtyard was mostly empty to protect you from your blunder, but it was nonetheless embarrassing, "I mean, I was doing it as a silly little prank. Then you did it too. You sounded so serious when you said it, too." You averted your gaze, wanting to look anywhere but at your lover. In your peripheral vision you saw him grow more confused than worried now. Rather than his brow being furrowed in concern, it was furrowed in thought.

It took a moment for him to speak. He tilted his head, as if it would help in deciphering the code you just tossed in his face, "We are betrothed, are we not? We haven't had a wedding yet, so we aren't in technical terms husband and wife. But, you have begun to call me your husband. In turn, I assumed you wanted me to refer to you as my wife."

You froze. He thought you were what? As far as you could remember, he didn't give you any indicator as to being engaged up until now!

"Hold on." You were so confused and shocked that your embarrassment ebbed away quickly. You looked him up and down. Were cameras going to pop out from behind a bench? A tree, perhaps? "I wasn't told anything about being engaged. When did this happen?"

His tone only grew more confused now, "A few weeks prior. You were accepting my courtship advances. The necklace you received was one of betrothal." He stated simply, "It was one from my personal collection, and you accepted it. Is that not a common proposal where you're from?"

"NO?! Malleus, where I'm from, people propose with a ring and ask if they will marry them!"

".....I see. This is quite the conundrum." He placed a hand on his chin, "Am I to cancel the wedding plans, then?" He looked almost sad at the prospect. You could tell immediately that this was something he had been planning since that night he gifted you that silver necklace.

You sighed again, this time bigger and heavier, "....I mean..." You didn't want to let him down, but it all felt too fast! "Maybe don't cancel them persay..." His mood drastically improved at your words. Optimism was a powerful tool, and he was using it right to his advantage.

"Maybe we can do things from my culture now?" You continued, "Once you propose in the human way, then we can start planning our wedding together." You thought this was a fair compromise. He already proposed with fae customs, but you weren't exactly ready to rush into a wedding dress. If things could be held off for at least a few more months, you'd have time to adequately settle into the reality.

Your words didn't come close to deterring Malleus. He nodded with more enthusiasm than ever. "I shall dedicate myself to the education and study of human ways. I will plan out a human proposal posthaste." He looked at you with a fire in his eyes. One you hadn't seen too often, but enough to recognize, you knew what it meant. He only got this look when he was so hellbent on succeeding that it'd take all of Twisted Wonderland to prevent him from reaching his goals.

You'd let out a monster, and you knew it. All you could do now was pray for your survival.

------------------------

A few days later, you were chatting casually with your regular quartet of Ace, Deuce, Grim in the cafeteria. But, your comfortable conversation was abruptly interrupted by a scream.

"HUMAN!!!!!!" You jumped at the sound, immediately recognizing it to be only one person.

"Sebek? Is something the matter?"

"MY LORD HAS DECIDED TO PROPOSE TO YOU ONCE MORE!!!!" He exclaimed, his volume far too high even in the large room. "YOU MUST LOOK THE PART WHEN HE APPROACHES YOU!" Without a second beat, he started dusting you off, nitpicking your appearance down to the lint on your shoulder.

Being friend with Sebek long enough had let you into his mind. You knew he was happy for you, and just expressing it in his own unique way. He had long since come to terms with your relationship, and had even come to support it (again, in his own way).

"Hold on..."

"No way..."

"Huh?!"

All three of your friends in front of you had gaping mouths, utterly shocked. They all yelled at the same time, their tones fearful and confused.

"My henchman..."

"You, of all people..."

"Prefect is...."

"GETTING MARRIED?!"

Oh lord. This'll be fun to explain.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The morning comes but not relief. Despite the breeze wafting in from the open balcony, you swelter until the sun rises. Even then, you’re not free. Lloyd remains, snoring, latched on. 

When he stirs, it’s only the promise of what’s to come. This is the day. A day you never dreamed of. A day you never longed for. A day he will make sure happens exactly as he wills. Just as he has forced on you every single other desire in his twisted brain. 

You let the hours past, hoping deep down he sleeps through it all. The sun continues its lazy ascent, shifting through shades of coral, gold, and yellow. The smell of the ocean flows through with the noise of the waves. 

His hand slides up from your stomach to your chest. He squeezes and growls, rolling his hips as he nibbles your ear. You stare at the blurry coastline through the large glass doors across the balcony. You hold back a sigh. 

“Morning, bean,” he rasps. “Mm, it’s our special day.” 

He kneads your chest. It takes everything in you not to stop him. His palm against your naked flesh, the pebble of your nipple pressing into his hand, the goosebumps across your skin. The sensations are enough to have you paralysed. 

“If I could marry you right here in this bed, I would,” he hums. “Straight from the vows to the... well.” He snickers and wiggles his hips again. “Ah, jelly bean. I’m so happy.” 

You stay still and silent. He kisses your hair and pushes himself away from you. You let a sliver of tension loose as the bed bounces under him. The empty bed would be paradise if not for him. 

“Alright, well, we still got some time to go,” he struts to the coffee bar, his ass out shamelessly. He pops a pod in the machine and snaps the lid down. “Stylist will be here later and your dress is on its way. I’ll call down for some breakfast first. Oh, my suit.” He taps the button and turns to face you. You pull the blanket over your face so you can’t see his erection. “You take your time though. Need to rest up for tonight.” 

He pushes off the coffee bar, his feet slapping the floor as he strides across the suite. There’s a brief pause before the trickle of his piss hits the toilet water. It gets louder as he lets the stream free. You grimace beneath the blanket. 

If someone asked you at any point in life what hell is, you couldn’t think of anything worse than this. 

He comes back out. The cup clinks on the tray and he slurps loudly. He goes to the balcony and pushes the glass door all the way open. He steps out, naked, and sighs up at the sky. 

“Bean, you gotta come see this.” 

You don’t move. You touch the mattress and close your eyes. Please, just make me a part of the bed. Turn me to spring and cushion. I would much rather be a gel top cooling pad. 

He calls you again. You cringe and push yourself up. You slump and slide off the bed. You grab the robe and wrap it around yourself. 

You drag your feet to the doors. You stare out in dread. He leans on the railing and drinks his coffee. You shuffle up beside him. It is beautiful. You can’t deny that. 

Your old life was dull and boring. You never even bothered of dreaming of a place like this. You wouldn’t ever be able to afford it. 

“I’m gonna fuck you out here. Tonight,” he slips his hand along your lower back. “In the tub. On the bed. Against the wall.” His finger swirls against the robe. “But I think out here will be my favourite.” 

You grip the railing as stare at the sun. Your eyes water until you’re forced to look away. It burns but not as much as your fate. You can’t stop him as much as you can’t stop time. Lloyd Hansen is as inevitable as a ticking clock. 

🩷

You don’t feel like yourself. It’s for more than your circumstance. It isn’t just that Lloyd ripped you out of every familiarity in your life. It’s the dress, the hair, the makeup, the shoes... 

The woman responsible for it all leaves. She never gave a name. She didn’t say more than she needed to. You respect that. You’re less than equipped to pretend. You’ve never been very good at that and you need to save your energy. 

You stand by the balcony doors and stare out at the azure waves. The sleek ivory satin sheath tickles your skin. It’s simple. Thin enough for you to bear the Hawaiian sun. There’s a ribbon around your wrist with a corsage of orange hibiscus. 

The door opens and closes. You don’t react as your eyes stick into the distance. You think of walking into the tides and just not stopping. 

“Jelly bean?” Lloyd’s voice brings your vision into focus. 

You face him. His expression shifts. His blue eyes dilate and his jaw ticks. His lips part. 

“Wow,” he wisps and touches his chest. 

He wears a pair of powder blue slacks. His shirt is satin, a silvery blue with a pattern of garish chains printed into the fabric. It’s tacky. There’s a peak of a real chain around his neck, shining gold, matching the buckles on his ivory loafers. The same orange hibiscus is pinned by his left lapel. 

“My oh my, jelly bean. My favourite candy,” he crosses the room and extends his arms to you, “the sweetest I know.” 

You clasp your hand around your other wrist. Your body locks up as he grazes his palms along your arms. He pulls you to him and hums. 

“I don’t wanna ruin all this,” he drags his touch up your shoulder and along your neck. “Not yet.” 

You gulp. The hopelessness swells over. That anger that kept you awake, that kept you from cracking the day before, it dissipates into tepid acceptance. Your lip quivers and you force it still as you bite the inside of your cheeks. 

“Come on. Can’t be late to true love.” he grabs your hand and turns. He struts to the door and tugs you through. 

The shoes are wedges, not too high. You’re thankful for nothing but that. As you come out in the hall, he re-arranges himself next to you and loops his arm through yours. 

It’s a death march. The type you’ve only read about or seen on TV. The accused queen walking on the spite of her maddened husband; the rival cousin swept up in fears of treason; the unfortunate captive of a lost battle facing the noose. All you can do is put one foot in front of the last. 

Outside, the warmth stuns you. It is a scalding contrast to the ice in your veins. Lloyd doesn’t relent, doesn’t hesitate. You could plant your feet and fold in on yourself. Yet, you keep going. 

Days of desolation, a night of smoke, a flurry of chaos... all of it melds in your mind, stirring to a disorienting cacophony. Even ground turns to pebble and softens to silt and sand. 

You look around as if only just awaking. He leads you around a jutted cliff and down a winding path. The salt of the ocean laces the air, the lapping of waves rolls softly. You come in sight of the sun as your chunked wedges sink into the grains below. 

The water sparkles, the sky softens but does not dim, and the horizon ripples like golden thread. It’s immaculate. 

You have no choice but to lean into Lloyd as he guides you. It’s like wading through quicksand but that’s more than just the terrain. Your limps are stiff and stubborn. Go back, go back, go back. 

There’s a man and a woman. He’s in a white shirt and white pants. There’s a scarf or something around his shoulders. There’s silver crosses sewn into it, another hung from his neck with beads. You’re not religious. Once you thought you were. There’s a reason that changed. 

The woman is the same that came to the room to arrange your hair and paint your face. She is patiently silent as she stands to the side. You never thought of being married but this is far from anything you would imagine. 

He smiles expectantly as he watches you approach. Lloyd stops you across from the man and greets him, “father.” 

The man opens the book in his hands. “Shall we begin?” 

“Yes,” Lloyd turns to face you and takes your hands in his. “I’ve never been more ready.” 

You’ve never been less. 

You stare at his upper lip. That bristly line of hair. That questionable choice. It explains all you could ever wonder about the man. It’s tacky, defiant, and odd. 

Lloyd squeezes your hands as the priest clears his throat. You shiver despite the balmy heat. Your feet sink deeper in the sand. 

“Do you stand her and vow yourself before the Lord with no reason 

"Miss, repeat after me. ‘I, solemnly swear, to take this man in holy matrimony. As my husband to keep, to cherish, and love.’” 

The waves crash into the shore. It’s deafening. Your forehead trickles with sweat and the nape of your neck is on fire. Your hands shake in Lloyds’s. 

You squeak. 

“She’s nervous,” Lloyd chuckles. “Go slow.” 

The priest repeats himself; just the first few words. You eke out an echo. He continues until you get to that last word. ‘Love’. 

Then it’s Lloyd’s turn. He says it easily. As if he knows it already. His thumbs rub your knuckles. Your legs quake. 

“Before the Lord, and your witness, I declare you, husband and wife. Through sickness and health, until death do you part.” The priest declares. “You may kiss your bride.” 

Lloyd obeys before the pact is sealed. His lips are on yours, his hand on the back of your head, his other on small of your back. You’re breathless as he devours you. Your audience is unaffected by his hunger. It’s all very surreal. 

He draws back, keeping you in his arms. He grins and winks at you. “All mine, jelly bean.” 

“Sir,” The priest approaches, “the papers.” 

“Ah, almost forgot,” Lloyd lets you go. “Pen.” 

The priest reaches in his front pocket and slides out a black pen. He gives it to Lloyd. Under the bible cover, there’s a slip of paper. There’s a golden seal in the corner. The priest shows him wear to sign then you get the pen. You scribble on the paper, your hand numb, then the woman takes the pen and signs the third space. 

“Well, father,” Lloyd leans in to look at the paper, his hand under the priests as he cradles the bible. “Looks like we’re all set.” 

He closes his hand around the bible and the priest’s fingers. The holy man flinches as Lloyd reaches behind himself. He slides something free of his belt. 

You step back as a twinge plucks in your chest. Something’s wrong! 

The silver pistol flashes in the setting sunlight. The host is silent. A dark hole appears in the priest’s forehead as the gun recoils in Lloyd’s grip. He’s quick. He aims it at the woman. The bullet pierces above her cheekbone. She falls as quickly as the priest. 

You raise your hands in shock and step back. You trip as your skirt flutters in the breeze wafting in off the waves. You blink as Lloyd lowers the barrel. 

Calmly, he tucks the gun away. He slides the paper free of the book and drops the bible beside the dead man. Your lashes flick furiously and your heart hammers. 

You lunge forward. You stagger in the dirt as you pump your arms. You want to scream but you can’t. You just run, lungs burning, head spinning. You race away from the smell of blood and gun powder. You don’t know where you’re going, you just need to get away. 

You hit the waves as a force throws you off your feet. Lloyd lands atop you with a grunt and you thrash in the ebb and flow. He hushes you as you flail and whine. 

“Lloyd!” You shriek at last, your fear boiling over. 

“Jelly bean, you don’t get it,” he wrestles with you in the wet sand. “I’m a dangerous man.” He pins you on your back beneath him. “I can’t have anyone knowing about you. Didn’t I make a promise just now? To always protect you?” 

“You- you—you--” you sputter. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he pets your face with his wet hand. “I fucking love you.” 

[calebscrybaby]

the things I love about you in my mind

♡ ship: rafayel x reader

♡ about: professor rafayel helps sober up a drunk college mc after one too many drinks.

♡ warnings: possessive behavior, intoxication, implied stalker rafayel, kissing under the influence.

based on this cute fanart by kori

Rafayel is hardly paying attention.

Not to the Turkish coffee that’s going cold on his desk, nor to the texts his agent has been sending him and definitely not to the work he’s supposed to be grading.

Despite that, he doesn’t need to pay much attention to write down the critiques of what he’s seeing. It’s second nature at this point, for his eyes to see flaws. Shadow placement is illogical. He writes down halfheartedly, a hand on his cheek as his free one writes clipped sentence after sentence. Anatomy needs more work. Pose is too stiff. The lighting is all over the place.

He doesn’t mean to sound so dry and severe. The students this year are actually promising, for once. Bright and imaginative as they clumsily try and paint their way to the visions that exists in their young minds.

He sighed as he put the pen down, leaning back over the leather chair and rubbing his eyes under the frames of his glasses. Rafayel assumed he’d be fine enough to work on grading to get his mind off of what’s bothering him, but apparently not.

It was a simple comment that managed to ruin his mood for the long awaited break from classes.

“Any plans for the weekend?” He had asked you when you ‘accidentally’ ran into him after your last lecture. 

“Uh-huh. I was invited to an after school party today!” You said with an excited smile plastered on your face.

Oblivious to how the corners of his mouth froze.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. College students go to drinking parties all the time, some spend more time in them than their actual classes. He just—somehow wished his bride would be exempt. You were hardworking and tended to be extroverted, preferring to spend your free time away from rowdy places. The friends you had (decent people, or else they wouldn’t have been near you) did arrange a lot of activities together between classes, but hardly any that involved partying. Something that he was thankful for.

Until now.

Were you pressured? You didn’t seem to be, by the excited smile on your face. But you did seem nervous. Was it your first drinking party? He’s a bit pissed he never found out the type of drunk you are. He wouldn’t be as worried if he was sure you knew how to stay safe in those kinds of parties—

Rafayel huffed through his nose, reaching out to grab his phone. Ignoring the multiple pleading notifications from his agent.

No text. No call.

“Have fun. I’m going to be in my office grading and working on my next project. Once you’re done, call me and I’ll get you back home safe.”

“Oh! I don’t want to trouble you, Professor…”

“Cutie,” he gave her a hard smile as he leaned down in that way he knew made her flustered. The wall next to them shielding the scene from other students. “It’s no trouble. Call me, okay?”

He was debating doing something about it when his phone vibrated in his hand, getting him out of his reverie.

cutie ♥️: sjxjdbajskdnanws

…?

cutie ♥️: audybqnsdn?!?? 1622

🐟: hey, what’s wrong?

♥️: didi here here

(lhttps://tinyurl.com/dz8xhjj7)

🐟: …cutie are you trying to order a car?

♥️: i am?

🐟: You are

♥️:oh

♥️: don tell professor

His mouth twitched, finger moving through the screen to call. It was a few too long seconds before you picked up.

“H-hello?”

She was slurring so hard he was surprised he couldn’t smell the alcohol from the screen.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me?” He asked calmly (or so he hoped).

He heard some rustling before you continued sheepishly, “I didn’ wanna bother you…”

He sighed, knowing you’d feel reprimanded even if he didn’t say anything. “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

“Y-you don’ have to—“

“Honey,” he interrupted in an overly sweet tone. “Be a good girl and send me the location, okay?”

He could hear her choke on the other side of the line before you meekly complied.

The drive to and fro was quiet. You seemed to be alright, thankfully, only stumbling a bit and not as drunk as he thought you’d be. He assumed you’d protest more or insist on calling a car again, but you were quiet as a mouse. Which was good.

Rafayel took you back to his office, much closer from the bar that was conveniently close to the campus. While he would have loved taking you back to his home, he was still mindful of your reputation. Keeping your relationship under wraps was the best way to continue the normalcy you seemed to enjoy. So instead, he took you to his office to rest before going to your dorm room.

You stumbled your way inside his office as he held you by the waist. Gently, he took off your jacket and sat you down on the leather couch.

Thankfully, his worries were somewhat allayed as he asked about the party in the car. You had fun, you didn’t get bothered by anyone nor drink enough to make yourself get sick. He nodded to himself proudly as he put your jacket on the hanger. His bride was a smart, competent woman. He didn’t need to be worried at all.

…it did concern him how quiet and flushed you were, but he would take care of that in a second.

Rafayel got a cool water bottle from the mini fridge and made his way back to the couch, when he sat next to you, he tugged your hand, pulling you closer until you were forced to move with a surprised yelp. With his other hand, he wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you onto his lap, settling your soft curves against his thighs. 

Your face flushed harder, as if that was possible. He tried not to stare at the beautiful sight in front of him, your face a beautiful red up to the tips of your ears, mouth slightly open as your breathing got heavier. 

His hand unconsciously moved to touch your lower lip, unable to resist. “Drink some water, it’ll sober you up.” He murmured, acting like that was the only reason. You nodded in a haze, your hand shakily moving to grab the glass bottle from his hand, your fingers pausing as they touched his before you hastily pushed it to take a big swing.

“Careful,” he instructed as he started tugging his sleeves up, revealing his forearms. He only did it because with you so close, your close, heated body made him warmer. But it only caused you to choke on the water. He raised his eyebrows in amusement as he rubbed your back. “Better?”

You nodded with your head bowed. You clearly had something on your mind, the alcohol making your emotions much clearer than usual. “Professor, I didn’t drink too much, even when they kept pouring. I was careful and safe. A-and I called you when you said you’d pick me up…”

You didn’t do the last part, actually. He tilted his head as he wiped your mouth and chin from the water you coughed. There seemed to be a point with the pause at the end. “Yes?”

You had a hard time making your brain work, apparently. He slyly noted. “S-so I must be a good girl, right?”

“Be a good girl and send me the location, okay?”

Oh. You must have been waiting to be praised since he called you. And I’m supposed to be the sober one here.

He smirked, normally he wouldn’t mind lavishing his cute bride in praise until you were a blushing mess, but he wanted to get himself a little payback for the worry you caused him.

He hummed nonchalantly as he nuzzled into your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of your hair, now slightly mussed from the party. “Well, that depends on your performance today, cutie.”

Rafayel only meant it as a slight tease, he held a chuckle back as he saw the gears rapidly turn in your pretty little head.

He immediately regretted it as soon as tears sprang in your eyes. Making his eyes widen.

“I’m n-not a good girl? I’m not?” You cried out as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. “Y-you don’t like me? You don’t l-like me!”

….How did your drunk mind reach that conclusion?

His hands were hovering helplessly, unsure of where to start comforting you. He must’ve underestimated how drunk you are. Rafayel finally settled on holding your cheeks and wiping them with his thumbs. “No no. I'm sorry,” he apologizes easily as you continued sobbing into the crook of his neck, his hand started petting her head gently, “you are my good girl, my best girl ever. I love you, really!”

When you kept hiccuping, Rafayel frowned. No matter how much he liked teasing his bride, a light punishment all things considered, he never wanted to upset her. His hand reached for her cheek and maneuvered her face, peppering it with soft kisses as her crying calmed to sniffles. “I even waited for 800 years for you. I love you. I'm sorry, baby…”

His tone turned from placating to vulnerable. None of what he’s saying is untrue, it’s the same mantra that repeats with every beat of his heart. Over and over across lifetimes.

“No. My bride, my only bride.”

You won’t remember it, like you don’t remember so many things. But still, he gives himself this.

Once you were calm enough, he smiled gently. Wiping the remnants of your tears from your reddened cheeks. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?” He offered with an apologetic smile as he lifted your face to meet his.

You sniffled, eyes puffy. “…I wanna—want a kiss!” You whined your demand out loud, too buzzed and upset to feel self conscious.

“But I already gave you plenty,” he said with feigned confusion, unable to help himself.

You groaned petulantly, “not like that!”

He smiled, impossibly fond. “Well, I can’t kiss you with my glasses on, honey.”

“T-take—“ you slurred as you tried to do it yourself, growing more frustrated as your uncoordinated hands couldn’t get them off his ears. “Off!”

Rafayel tutted, not bothering to hide the grin on his face when you couldn’t focus on anything to recognize it. He couldn’t resist continuing to tease you. “Can’t? Maybe you just don’t want to. Maybe you actually don’t want your dear Professor’s kiss…”

His poor bride whined, trying harder. Even when you managed to get it off, it fell back on, askew on his grinning face. His hair was now mussed from his failed attempts, the tidy slick back he had since this morning gone with every try of your warm hands.

“See?” He tutted, the old familiar Disappointed Teacher Tone™️ slinked back into his voice. “You don’t really want one or you would have managed to get them off.”

“No—no no no.” You shook her head, immediately stopping when you clearly made yourself dizzy. God, you were adorable. “I want to!”

Rafayel laughed, light and easy as you huffed at him. His hand went up to grab his glasses and casually threw it on the other end of the couch. Your hazy mind registered it and brightened, leaning in and clumsily trying to kiss him before he laughed against your mouth, his hands reaching to cup your cheek as he took over and gave you one decent kiss. Your warm breaths mingled together as he broke it, the soft gaze of his ocean blues mixed with lemurian fire making your heart thump in your chest.

“Now, how about a nap to sober you up?”

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~NEVER WITH YOU, CAN'T WITHOUT YOU

tw; angst, nsfw, mdni, heavy angst once again, toxic relationship, something i call a "boomerang" relationship.

Simon and you were something not many people understood, not many people got. No one knew why you always got back with him- but they didn't feel the way you did for him, they didn't know what it was like. The break ups you two had was harsh. Worthless calls, drunk fucked up texts, desperate gifts and desperate hearts. You wished for something different, a sign from god- that this wasn't the end.

A different ending, a different life, a meaning, anything. You begged for anything, prayed, wept for what could have been each, but it never was. It was for the best, you told yourself. You were miserable, and you hated it. Getting drunk almost every weekend, giving him drunk texts and calls - leading to one night stands and filthy promises of a "second chance," for the hundredth time you promised it would be different. Fucking him, and humping his thigh like you needed it for life- he kissed you like he wanted you. Like you were air, he needed you to breathe. Always the words, "You're mine," Never, "I'm yours" while pounding his hips against you- and it felt comforting, it felt hot, you felt taken care of. Rutting his hips against you and telling you how much of a "Filthy fuckin' slut you are," for him. All for him. "Ain't that right baby girl? Ain't that right, Yeah it is. Look at this cunt clenchin' me like it needs me to fucking breathe- exactly, go on you slut, slut for me, right? Just me, just me." He fucked you like he hated you, but treated you like he loved you, afterwards. Balance. It never was different. Never for you. You never knew how he felt, you never even saw him cry, never even saw him shed a single tear for you, it made you think did he really love you? You've had several break ups, you two always got back together, he belonged to you, that's the way it had to be. Your break ups got so common you expected a second chance all the time - always just knowing, that you'd go back to him in a heartbeat, or he would come back for you. So when you appeared at his doorstep for the last time - sober this time, your eyes were baggy, red. Your lips were swollen and you were flushed, and he.. showed nothing. "Simon. Can we stop this?" You started, and swallowed. You looked up into his eyes, opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "No." A singular word that made your eyes widen, you weren't expecting that. You wanted to speak again, refuse to believe what you just heard- maybe he was just joking? But he spoke again. "This, was the last time. I'm not playing this game with you anymore, I'm tired of it. Go home, and move on." He said, and shut his door in your face without any emotions. So much for him telling you he loves you more. Drunk texts ended up on a blocked number- calls that were never picked up. Was it really the end? You couldn't believe it, you still loved him, you still cried over him. Spending weeks, days, months in your bed and barely doing anything, not going outside, not daring. Sunlight became a sickness, happiness became a distant hope- a distant want. He was your happiness. You drank alcohol, turned to what you promised you wouldn't, barely let anyone in - your hygiene was poor - non existent. Your hair was a mess, not being brushed in a week, your teeth neither, smoking cigarettes like it's a need. Depression. No hookups, no rebounds, no ways to cope with what had happened to you - with what he did to you. And the worst part was? You didn't even know if he ever cared. Was he pretending, just to keep you there until he got bored? It pissed you off, but you loved him. And god you denied and denied, denied denied until that was your personality, denying the truth. Your closest friends knew only, not even your mother could help, all you did was lay at home. They say time fixes things. Fuck that shit, because what the fuck did time fix? Nothing. 4 Months after that stupid fucking breakup and you still have nothing to show for it - you're still a mess- still chaos, still can't forget the way his lips felt against your soft tender skin. And how you got over it? Time had nothing to do with it. What did though, was a huge bottle of whiskey and a night out where you poured your heart to the first strange man you saw- and he told you, the most devastating sentence you wish you never had to hear. The most grieving and painful words that you'd ever heard,

"You want him to come back. He won't. He will never come back, Y/N. He doesn't love you." And it broke you. Broke you just to build you after - just to help you up and pick up the pieces putting it together like a puzzle. You slowly gained your confidence - motivation back, brushing your teeth again, brushing your hair, going outside. Shopping, cooking again instead of eating junk food. You stopped drinking and got your job back- not as good as before, but good enough. During breakups people tell you- "A few weeks after you get your life back together - he will fade, you won't remember him anymore." That was a lie. He was still in your mind all the time, seeing your favorite flower, the restaurant you always went to, his favorite foods, it all made you reminded of him. It all made you miss him even more, but you had to go through this. You had a goal, and you couldn't give up. But still you wondered each time, did he think of you, did he miss you? And then you were reminded of it all - of your relationship, and you told yourself he wouldn't. He doesn't miss you. He doesn't care at all. And maybe it was the truth afterall. ~~

"Earth to Lieutenant? I swear to god, LT, these past few months it's like you're in your own headspace. Can't even talk to you anymore," Soap chuckled, nudging Ghost. Ghost finally turned to look at his friend in the eyes. No one exactly ever knew what he felt, he always had a dead look in his eyes, never happy, never emotional. They never noticed. But this time? They weren't dead. They were full of emotions, - sorrow, could be mistaken for one who just lost someone to death, not they were the ones that were dead. His eyes were red, and Soap noticed, he swallowed. He didn't think it was that serious. His eyes weren't looking like he never felt happiness. No no, it was worse, his eyes looked like he felt happiness - and then it was killed in front of him. Like it was choked, stabbed, hung, shot to death. Broken, harmful. Soap knew why. Watching Ghost pack all of his pictures of you and him thrown out in the trashcan, broken picture frames and love letters burnt in the fireplace - He knew from the start. He spoke, looking away. "I Still don't get it, Lieutenant. You love her so much, why didn't you let her stay? Lass' came back to you, and you just told her no." Ghost's eyes darkened and he looked down at the floor. He grabbed the cup of whiskey in front of him- Tennessee, but it didn't taste good anymore, nothing tasted good anymore. "For her sake, Johnny. It was for her sake. Did you see how much better she's doin without me? Lassie is happy, I'm not, but god for fucks sake, I don't deserve to be." He said, and he poured the cup down his throat like it was needed. He slammed it down and poured himself another shot as he spoke. "I was holding her back. It's fucking killin' me Johnny, look at me. I always thought I was already dead, but It feels like I'm fucking dying. But look at my angel. Look at her, look at my pretty girl Johnny, she's shining better than she could with me. And fuck, if I could have her.." A tear fell down his face, and he sobbed the last sentences out. "She's all I ever wanted. I don't want anyone like her, I want her, I always wanted her. She's my damn way of life. But loving is letting go, and fuck love, but I love her. More than anything, I love her. And if she's better off without me," He cried now, and looked at Johnny. "I want her to have the best, and lord knows, I'm not it." Chugging the last cup of whiskey down, and he stood up, putting the empty cup down. "Headin' to sleep now." He said, and went to his room. Locked himself in and stared at the gun in front of him, debating. He cried for you, that night. And if only, he knew how you really felt. **HAPPY ENDING FROM HERE: DONT READ IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE.** ~~ 8 months. 8 Sad, miserable months after he last saw you. He still loved you, and you still loved him. You didn't contact, message or call at all - Until one day. You left him a voicemail. "For my dearest Simon. I still love you, more than anything I do. I will miss you always, I miss you now, the most. My life is successful and it feels incomplete- without you, without us. I love you forever, yours forever- Y/N." He broke that day. He sobbed to Johnny on how much he misses you too, for the first time breaking down - and he decided he was gonna make this right, change. Because you deserved better. So he's gonna be better, for you. When you two met up again, he greeted you with a hug. His girl was back in his arms, back with him, back for him. This time, at the coffee shop, he didn't say, "You belong to me," like usual. He kissed you, and you kissed back. Rubbing his palm that was on your cheek, and he whispered, "Y/N, I belong to you. Forever." And that sentence was the one engraved inside the ring he put on your finger, after 3 years.

A/N: Yeah I'm.. actually so sorry, I cried during making this I love you guys, I'm ABSOLUTELY sorry if the happy ending isn't your type its why I put a warning, but I needed it. also HEY, just a quick warning over here -

THIS IS A FANFICTION! I REPEAT, THIS IS A FANFICTION, DON'T GO BACK TO YOUR EX, IT ENDED FOR A GODDAMN REASON! HE DOESNT LOVE YOU, but in the fanfiction simon does

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do one where the triplets little sister gets into a fight (like actual fight) with someone and she’s really annoyed and mad and she’s snapping at everyone but then Matt comes to help her clean up even though she tries to push him away, he doesn’t let her

“You Don’t Have to Push Me Away”

The front door slammed so hard, a picture frame rattled against the wall.

Chris and Nick looked up from the couch just in time to see their little sister storm through the living room, hoodie pulled over her head, one sneaker half-off, the other streaked with dirt. Her backpack hit the floor with a thud.

“Y/N?” Nick asked, confused. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Don’t,” she snapped, already halfway up the stairs.

Chris blinked. “Yo—wait. Are you bleeding?”

“I’m fine,” she growled.

They both started to stand, but Matt was already coming out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “She get in a fight or something?”

“I think so?” Chris muttered. “She looked pissed.”

Nick frowned. “And her knuckles were bruised.”

Matt tossed the towel and headed upstairs without a word.

⸻

Her bedroom door was cracked, but he knocked anyway.

“Go away, Matt.”

He opened it anyway.

She was sitting on her floor, arms crossed over her knees, hair falling into her face. There was a split on her lip. One of her earrings was missing. Her right hand was starting to swell.

“I said go away,” she barked, not looking at him.

Matt stayed quiet. He walked over, sat down beside her. Not close enough to touch—just enough to make it clear he wasn’t leaving.

“Did you win?” he asked softly.

That caught her off guard. Her lip twitched, almost a smile—but she was too angry to let it through.

“She said some shit,” she muttered. “About me. About you guys. I told her to shut up, and she pushed me first. So I hit her back.”

Matt glanced at her hand. “How many times?”

“Once. Maybe twice. She scratched my face, too, but whatever.”

He gently reached for her hand. She tried to pull it away, but he held on.

“Let me help, Y/N.”

“I don’t need help,” she snapped. “I just need everyone to stop looking at me like I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Matt said. “You’re hurt. Big difference.”

She looked down at her hand in his, quiet now.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered after a moment. “I’m just so… angry. All the time.”

Matt pulled a little first aid kit from behind his back—grabbed it on the way up. He started cleaning the blood from her knuckles with slow, careful hands.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” he said. “Being angry doesn’t mean you’re messed up. It just means you’re human.”

“I hate feeling like this.”

“I know.”

She swallowed, blinking fast. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“I want to see all of you,” Matt said. “Not just the good parts.”

She let out a shaky breath. “That’s stupid.”

He smirked gently. “It’s love.”

When he was done wrapping her hand, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Just for a second.

And Matt didn’t say anything else. He just stayed there, steady, quiet, the one person who didn’t need her to be anything but real.

⸻

[corpsedogs]

Dreaming costs money (Jason Todd x Reader)

✿ chapter 4 — the two of you arrive in metropolis, jason watches your workflow. but then somehow you convince him to accompany you for a walk. tag and masterlist

The hotel lobby was all gold trim, high ceilings, and velvet ropes.

The kind of place that screamed luxury— and was probably crawling with people who had no idea who they really were. Jason stood stiffly beside you at the front desk while Mari argued with the concierge.

You pulled your hood over your head, sunglasses still on, trying not to be recognized. Fans and media could be anywhere.

Jason leans on the counter and can’t help but sigh, this was taking forever he thought.

It turns out Mari was so busy that she forgot to book in advance. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the concierge repeated for the third time. “There’s a convention in town. All suites and single rooms are fully booked. We only have one double room left.”

“One,” Mari echoed, rubbing her temples. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” the concierge politely smiled, but the worry was there, “It has 2 beds?”

You frowned. “Why can’t I stay with you, Mari?” Mari didn’t even look up. “Because I’m staying at the director’s hotel. And you need on-site protection.”

You gestured at Jason. “Okay, great. He can have the room. I’ll go with Bella.”

Mari shook her head. “Bella’s assisting on set until 2 a.m. and she’s not security trained. Jason stays with you.”

You gave Jason a look. “Seriously?” Jason gave you the same look but didn’t say anything.

He crossed his arms. “You think I want to share a room with a pop star who treats me like I kicked her dog?”

“You basically did knock out someone in front of me.”

“Because he tried to stab you.”

Mari clapped her hands sharply. “Enough. You’re both adults. It’s one night. Two beds. No one’s dying.”

The room was spacious, sure.. but not spacious enough. Two beds, a minibar, and one awkward silence. You tossed your jacket onto the nearest bed and turned to him. “I’m taking the shower first.”

“Fine,” Jason said, already claiming the bed furthest from the window. “Try not to use all the hot water.”

You paused in the doorway to the bathroom. “Just so you know. i don't like people who snore so don’t complain if I wake you up.”

Jason smirked without looking up from unpacking his guns. “If I snore, it’s probably because I’m dreaming of a quiet hotel room. Alone.”

You shut the bathroom door a little harder than necessary.

The room was dim now, lit only by the warm bedside lamp on your side. The air smelled faintly of your shampoo and something clean, like hotel linen and Jason’s leather jacket drying on the chair.

You climbed into your bed, towel-dried hair damp against the pillow, flipping through channels just to fill the silence. Jason sat at the small table near the window, methodically cleaning one of his handguns.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to bring weapons into hotels,” you muttered, eyes on the TV.

Jason didn’t look up. “I thought you weren’t supposed to bring drama wherever you go, but here we are.”

You turned your head, raising an eyebrow. “You always this charming, or just with people you hate?”

Jason smirked faintly. “No.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push the conversation. Silence returned, thick but not as heavy as before. You turned off the TV and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

After a while, your voice came quietly. “You really think he would’ve stabbed me?”

Jason glanced over. You were curled on your side now, arm under your pillow, watching him like you were trying to read something deeper.

“I don’t think I know,” Jason answered

You nodded slowly. “This stuff always happens to me..”

“Yeah,” he said, holstering his gun and stretching out on his bed fully clothed.

You hesitated, then said, “Thank you for stepping in.”

Jason glanced at you. “I thought you were pissed I knocked him out.”

“I was,” you said honestly. “But I’m also not stupid. I know I’d probably be in a hospital right now if you didn’t do what you did.”

Jason grunted softly, a hint of approval in his tone. “Well, glad you’re not.”

It was silent for a bit and Jason got a bit uncomfortable.

“I don’t hate you, by the way,” you said, eyes still on the ceiling. “I just hate being told what to do.”

Jason huffs. “We might have more in common than I thought.”

You reached for the remote and dimmed the light until the room was mostly dark.

“Goodnight, Jason.”

“’Night, trouble.”

You smiled faintly in the dark.

The photoshoot was held in a minimalist studio tucked behind the concert venue— high ceilings, industrial windows, and an array of white backdrops that turned gold under the glare of studio lights.

Jason leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes on you as you moved in front of the camera.

You were wearing a shimmering silver jacket over a black bodysuit, the lights catching every angle as you posed with practiced ease.

Confident, poised, entirely different from the tired girl he’d seen curled up in bed the night before.

Click. Flash. Click. Flash.

You turned slightly, lifting your chin, then dropped your gaze over your shoulder with an edge of mystery.

Jason caught himself watching too long.

“She’s good, huh?” Bella’s voice snapped him from his thoughts. She appeared beside him, chewing on a lollipop and holding a clipboard filled with notes and lighting cues.

Jason grunted in vague agreement.

“She’s got a whole rhythm to it,” Bella continued, as if he’d asked. “Three poses, two steps, left side first— she knows which angle the camera loves and works it like muscle memory. Took her years to build this kind of control.”

Jason glanced down at her. “You her assistant or her hype woman?”

Bella grinned. “Both. I’ve seen her do photoshoots while running a fever and still turn out covers that trended for weeks.”

She pointed toward you as you adjusted your earrings and gave the photographer a tired thumbs-up. “But she hates the glam stuff. Would rather be in sweats writing lyrics on her couch.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Jason muttered, nodding toward the camera where you gave a dazzling smile that could kill.

“That’s the mask,” Bella said with a shrug. “The singer, the star, the icon! She knows how to turn it on. But it costs her.”

Jason’s brows drew together slightly at that.

Bella tilted her head. “You notice it too, huh? She’s quieter when no one’s watching.”

Jason didn’t answer. But he kept watching.

The photographer called for a reset, and you stepped off the backdrop, grabbing a water bottle and pressing it to your cheek.

The lights were too hot, your boots too tight, but when your eyes scanned the room and landed on Jason, something flickered behind your expression.

You didn’t smile— but you didn’t look away either.

Bella nudged Jason with her elbow, smirking. “Told you. She lets people in when she wants to.” Jason didn’t take his eyes off you. “Yeah. I’m starting to notice that.”

Thousands of fans screamed your name, phones held high like stars, casting a sea of flickering lights across the stadium.

Jason stood just off-stage, arms crossed, earpiece in, eyes sharp beneath the shadow of his hood.

He didn’t care much for the glitter or the volume— but he knew danger could hide in plain sight, even behind a screaming fan or a flashing camera.

You stepped into the spotlight like it belonged to you. Dressed in black and silver, mic in hand, your expression changed the second your boots hit the stage.

All nerves vanished. Your posture sharpened, chin lifted, voice like velvet over thunder.

Jason watched you work— watched the crowd move with you, scream for you, live and breathe every word you sang.

It was a strange thing, watching someone belong to so many people while knowing that only a few ever really saw them.

His eyes scanned the perimeter. Security was tight— Mari had made sure of that, but Jason still noted the exits, the gaps between the barricades, the fans getting a little too bold in the front row.

He clocked a guy in the back of the crowd holding something that didn’t quite look like a phone.

His hand moved to the grip of the concealed weapon at his hip instinctively, but a second glance revealed it was a compact camera rig. False alarm, for now.

You moved across the stage, close to the edge, and reached your hand out to the crowd.

They surged forward. Jason’s body tensed.

He took a step closer to the curtain, ready. You caught his eye from across the lights.

Just for a second— barely even a glance. But it was there.

A silent exchange.

He’s here.

You’re safe.

Then you turned back to the crowd and let the music take you again.

Jason stayed where he was, eyes on you, hands steady.

The hotel lobby was quieter than it had been all day, the post-concert rush finally dying down. You stepped through the glass doors in oversized sunglasses and a hoodie two sizes too big.

Jason trailed a few steps behind, jaw tight, one hand still twitching like he hadn’t quite let go of high-alert mode.

The elevator dinged, but Jason saw you walking in a different direction.

Jason grips the hood of your jacket. “Wrong direction, superstar.”

You flashed a tight-lipped smile. “I just want to walk a little. Clear my head.”

Seriously?

“In a hoodie, sunglasses, and those suspiciously platform boots?” He crossed his arms. “You’re not going for a walk. You’re planning something.”

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the back hallway. “Come on. You know how long I’ve been stuck in studios, planes, venues, hotels, rinse, repeat? I haven’t touched real pavement in months.”

“You also haven’t had someone not trying to stab you in weeks,” Jason replied, tone flat.

You stopped, turning back to him with your hands on your hips. “So what, I just live in a cage now? Watch the world through tinted windows and dressing room mirrors?”

Jason’s jaw worked. “You think I like telling you no?”

“I think you like being in control.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I like keeping you alive. There’s a difference.”

You softened slightly. “I’m not asking to go clubbing. Just a street or two. I want to feel something normal again. Even if it’s just cold air.”

Jason stared at you, stubborn as hell. But you weren’t pleading— you were just being honest. Fuck it.

He exhaled slowly. “Fine.”

Your brows shot up, not in surprise but clear joy “Seriously?”

“One hour. Hoodie up. Stick close. And if one person looks at you weird, we’re out. Got it?” You grinned, grabbing his arm. “Knew you were a softie under all that leather.”

He shook his head, already regretting this. “Don’t push it, trouble.”

The hotel doors closed behind you both, and for the first time in a long while, the night air hit your skin like freedom.

Jason muttered, “This is a bad idea.”

You laughed, already tugging him down the quiet sidewalk. “All the best ones are.”

The two of you slip out into the warm night, the hotel’s glass doors swishing shut behind them.

The street is nearly empty— just a few late-night carts and distant traffic humming on the boulevard. You pull your hoodie tighter, letting the city air wash over you.

Jason knew if Mari found out about this, he’d be dead meat. But he wasn’t afraid of Mari, he had worse with Bruce. It wasn’t like Mari was going to fire him without getting to thr big boss first.

“So,” you say, kicking at a loose bit of gravel, “where should we go? I haven’t had tacos in forever.”

Jason gives you a sidelong glance. “Taco truck three blocks down. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘exclusive pop star hangout,’ but it’s honest.”

You grin. “Perfect.”

He falls into step beside you as you head toward the truck’s neon glow.

You talk quietly about everything and nothing: the weird taste of hotel coffee, the ridiculous set list changes, how your dad once gave you a weird looking fish.

Jason listens, actually listens, and the expression in his eyes softens. At the taco truck, you order two al pastor tacos and a side of nopales.

Jason pays without argument it was his way of conceding that maybe this small rebellion was worth it. You find a curb to sit on; he stands guard a few feet away, but close enough that you can see him relax at the edges.

Between bites, you laugh at something silly you saw on your flight. Jason lets out a chuckle. “Okay, that was funny,” he admits, wiping sauce from his fingers.

You hold out a taco to him. “Try one.”

He hesitates, then leans down and takes a bite. His eyebrows shoot up. “Damn. That’s good.”

You grin, leaning back against the curb. “See? Not everything in the world wants to kill you.” He watches you finish the last bite, then offers you a napkin. “Alright. Ten more minutes.”

You tuck the napkin into your pocket and stand. “Best ten minutes I’ve had in months.”

Together, you slip back toward the hotel— two silhouettes against the city lights, each carrying a little more understanding of the other than before.

tags: @deadbeatphobos @lingxio @nkryuki @lettucel0ver

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Inspired by this song˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙ tw: obsessive behavior. Request by @shintaru

You have no idea how this happened but you were on the playground with Kwon Hyuk, your rival, man you (should) despise, Sabbath crew's Grim Reaper and crazy psychopath that somehow got fixated on you.

Now, you were just sitting on your bike, hands in pockets, nothing to control bike with but your legs. Chewing gum in your mouth as you tried your best to ignore the unwelcome presence beside you.

"Wow, you can balance yourself for 30 seconds." The chill voice of male reached your ears and there was the infamous Grim Reaper, sitting on his legs while observing everything you did on your bike like you were some kind of lab rat and he - crazy scientist. Talk about crazy...

This is the same guy who almost murdered you in the race but just because you managed to escape him, survive and win against him, his twisted obsession towards you only grew.

"What are you even doing here?" You asked him, already tired by him.

"Hm? I always come to this playground when I want to show off tricks." He answered with shrug of his shoulders, his voice as chill as ever.

"And how come every single place I go to is the place you always go to?!" You questioned him again, this time with clear frustration. Does this jerk think you're stupid?!

His reaction - smirk slowly dragging on his lips while he said "coincidence." - pissed you off even more. How could this so-called coincidence happen ten times already in just a month at that?!

He was enigma, he was creepy, and you hoped his interest in you were only for cycling purposes and nothing else, otherwise you would seriously call the police on him. Not like he shouldn't be at police station already due to how he rides...

Hyuk stood up, his legs have slightly gone numb by now so he gave it time to fade away. Then he looked at you again, tilting his head to left side a bit. "Let's do stunts together. I'll show you few and if you'll manage to do all of them-"

"I don't want that." You cut him off and right in that moment, you could see confusion creeping up in his eyes, the quiet "what?" leaving his mouth. You repeated it for him. "I don't want to do such things with you."

He scoffed. "What such things?"

"Like stunts-"

"It's not like I'm asking you to have sex with me."

You froze at that, your mouth hanging open but no sound would come out. While he - on the other hand - was so chill like he didn't just altered your brain chemistry in the moment of shock. "What...the fuck?" You finally regained your ability to speak.

"Hm?" He raised his eyebrow at you then tilted his head to right side, playing dumb or he was actually dumb...

"Dude, I..." You let out deep breath to calm your nerves down, which didn't help at all. "I don't even want to waste a second with you. Why do you think I would want to do stunts with you? It's not like we're friends or anything so can you just fuck off and stop acting like we're close?"

"But-"

"But what? I never even told you that I was comfortable with you following me around and asking me to race you or turn my normal days into games of survival! So with all due respect, which is none, I won't do shit with you and even more disrespectfully,stop acting like obsessed pervert with mental disorder." You finally finished and catched your breath. But now that you let everything you wanted to say out, you realized you came off ruder than you intended to. His confused face made you wish to take back the words you just said-

He lowered his head down and for a moment, you thought he got upset but he just...laughed. His shoulders shaking in the intensity of his laughter, his smirk sickingly stretched on his lips - you'd think somebody ripped his mouth apart. "God..." He spoke but paused due to his uncontrollable laughter. "...I wasn't expecting an outburst but I'm not complaining. You should at least be like this to make it fun for me."

Nevermind. You don't regret anything you said. You crunched your nose in disgust and glared at him like he offended your family tree. "You're so fucking twisted."

He ignores that comment and just gets to his point again. "You can do keospin, right?"

Seeing how he's giving you no room to refuse, you nodded your head, even thought your jaw is clenched tight and vein is popping on your forehead.

"Ah, great. So I can skip basics with you." He mumbled to himself, while his finger rest on his bottom lip, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

This son of a-

That day definitely went differently than you expected to. Maybe mostly because you haven't done so many stunts & tricks all together at once in just few hours but certain black haired poltergeist-like guy kept pushing you to your limits, smirking like a damn predator when he would be satisfied with your skills.

"That's not even fixie trick, that's fucking parkour, you prick!!!"

"Oh, oops?"

Oh god, you were so done with him.

[rav1377]

Wipe Those Tears

John Price x fem!reader

Intended for the But Sir! universe

tw:fluff!!! sweet sweet fluff, yelling(not in text), reader “messed up”, etc etc

it was another simple day on base today. no missions or major paperwork to do. just a lazy day to do what the boys wanted. so Simon and Gaz went to the gym, Johnny went to the mess hall, and John stuck in his office, smoking a cigar while tapping at some little report on his computer. his eyes perked up, wide open, when he heard the fast paced click on your heels down the hall. you opened the door, sniffling, and John immediately put down his cigar.

“love? what’s wrong?” he asks and you shake your head, locking the door behind you. his arms open for you and you straddle him, pushing your teary face into his neck. John relents, letting you do whatever you need. a heavy hand rests over your spine as a sob racks your chest. “love…i want to help. can’t do that if you don’t tell me.” his deep rumble soothes you and you sit back, still perched on his lap. a shaky sigh leaves your throat and John’s waiting patiently. “nothing..i just messed up something and some guy got pissed.” you murmur, allowing the last few tears to fall down your pretty cheeks. “what got messed up?” John asks, using his thumb to brush over the tear stains. “i was doing an armory thing. kinda like a spreadsheet to account for the stuff, especially what you guys use and what other men are using. kinda just inventory.” John nods thoughtfully, attention fully on you. his cigar sits unused and wilting in its ashtray. “then this guy came in, saw what i was doing…i had to move some stuff around. nothing big, just three ammo boxes so i could see how many there were behind that….and then i saw a rifle put back wrong an-and it just pissed me off so i put it back in right.” you say, hands trembling as they go to hug your shoulders. “it wasn’t even loaded! and ‘m not stupid…know how to handle one.” you blubber. John hums. he knew that out of place things had a way of pissing you off. “no. you’re not stupid.” he says, rubbing your thighs. him and his boys made sure you knew how to handle the weapons that were oh so present on the base.

“then the man started screaming at me! he was just going on and on about the armory stuff and how civilians aren’t meant to touch anything in there, how i messed it up and it’d need to be redone now. he took my inventory sheet too…said it was all wrong and threw it away!” you whimper. John’s pissed at it all. not you, you didn’t exactly do anything wrong. you had a pass to be in that room and you were certified to handle weapons. no, he’s pissed at whoever had the audacity to even think about raising their voice at you. he’s going to might actually kill them. “just calling me all these horrible things, saying i was stupid and couldn’t handle it, that someone else should’ve done it and i needed to stick to desk duty. called me a whore too, like who are you to even?!” you cry, sentence cutting off with a frustrated groan. “anything else?” you shake your head. “no…i left after that. wanted to come here. knew you’d be around.” your voice warbles again and you plant your hands on his chest, smoothing them over the uniform he wears. “hmph. always around for you, love.” he says. you nod and lean into him again, his beard rubbing against the side of your face. “can’t i just stay here for the rest of the day.” you ask pleadingly. John chuckles. “course you can.” he murmurs back, keeping you on his thighs.

your eyes feel heavy and wet from all the crying you did. you needed it though. sometimes crying about stuff, no matter how little they may be, makes you feel better. and you do. Johns rubbing your back soothingly as he turns back to his desk to click away on something on his computer. he feels your lips press to his neck, they’re sucking light marks onto the skin and he sighs. “what’re you doing?” you ask, voice somewhat muffled by his skin. “playing minesweeper.” he says simply and you laugh, finally shutting your eyes.

you’re good and out by the time Simon and Gaz return from the gym. “Soap’s back at his office, more paperwork he forgot about.” Gaz says, plopping down on a chair. “what’s with the dove?” Simon asks, stretching his arms above his head. “someone yelled at her today for doing her job. messed up all her bloody work, and then thought it’d be a good idea to say that she didn’t know how to do her job and call her a whore.” John says, eyes narrowing. “who?” Gaz asks. “well i know who it is.” Simon says. “that god awful captain in the other wing.” John nods. Simon sighs and stands. “we going to hurt him or humiliate him?” John shrugs. “that’s up to you lieutenant.” Gaz stands. “bit of both might be in order.” he says coolly, opening the door for him and Ghost. John nods before resting his hands on your back, keeping you snug in his arms before shutting his own eyes. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears.” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

[jiggy-manda]

jealous!mari headcanons

mari ibarra x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw towards the end, majority is fluff, established relationship (mostly)

sfw

mari really wanted to be on the same team as you for capture the bone but nat wanted all the couples on different teams

was smug as hellll when she helped her team win by being the decoy, but you couldn’t stop teasing her about how annoyed and mopey she would’ve been if she’d lost

she denies that that would’ve happened, saying she’s not competitive, but you both know that’s not true

says random things to make you blush, loves whispering in your ear

“you know, it would’ve been so much better if you were the one on top of me during the game”

“don’t you wanna help me celebrate? it’s a bit rude not to congratulate the winner…”

i like to imagine that when she made the remark about cabin guy to lottie it was to impress akilah because mari was so loser lesbian with it & i feel like she’d be like that around you before you started dating 😭 like girl be calm

SET on sleeping in the same hut together, regardless of its size. usually you sleep in hers but if you ever end up going back to yours at the end of the night, she’ll eventually crawl in to join you with a cute frown on her face

“you don’t wanna sleep with me?” (you always want to)

“can i… sleep here then?” (of course she can)

she also “accidentally” puts extra hoodies and blankets on your side of the makeshift bed so you can sleep better 🤲

sometimes her jealousy shows more as being upset, but she’ll always try to mask it with her witty remarks

but deep inside she’s just a big softie who doesn’t understand why you don’t want to be with her 24 hours a day 😔😔😔 (you do, it’s just not realistically possible)

she’s a BIGGG pouter when she’s upset. you tease her? she pouts. you go a few hours without seeing her during the day? she’s pouting the second you get back

mari’s jealousy comes out more when shauna is around you, especially because it seems to her that shauna continues to spend time with you solely to piss her off

one time you were assigned to help shauna prepare dinner and mari nearly turned red in the face watching the smirk grow on shauna’s face

nsfw

to me mari is a switch so the way she reacts to jealousy intimacy-wise would depend on the situation

if it was because of shauna or another perceived wrong, she’s much more dominant and controlling

if it was because you weren’t spending enough time with her lately or something smaller like that, she’d be more soft and just want you to “prove” to her that she’s the only one for you (ofc she already knows that)

she prefers for you to go down on her in those softer moments, but when her jealousy is gearing towards anger, she likes taking you with her fingers

she’s much more secure in the relationship than it may seem; regardless of her “anger” when it comes to moments of jealousy, she knows you wouldn’t ever cheat or do anything to hurt her

she could never tell you that, of course. she’s a badass!! a nonchalant, very confident badass who definitely doesn’t think about you every second of the day

ik this is supposed to be a nsfw section but for some reason i don’t feel like mari would be the type to start hooking up during a moment of jealousy ykwim 🤨 i feel like she’s more the type to storm off and sulk until you notice

DOES jump your bones once she’s over it tho. like you do still have “jealous” sex but usually by that point you’ve worked it out

she’s still possessive at heart though so she will be leaving marks all over for shauna to see

and you don’t even care :)

[aglorifieddisaster]

I’ve elected to make my own list (plus explanation) because why not. Also may I note this is based on personal bias and not much else plus I’m excluding session 3 dads as I’m not fully caught up with that session yet

1. Terry Jr. Stampler (he tried so hard I just feel for the poor guy)

2. Walter (My guy was not only a great dad to Peadan but also put his life on the line and lost his legs to protect some random kids when he did not in anyway need to. He deserves more appreciation than this fandom gives him tbh)

3. Marco Li-Wilson (Heard pretty much nothing but good things about him from Linc so he gets 3rd)

4. Darryl Wilson (He wasn’t perfect by any means but he definitely did a lot to a least try and help Grant. he’s also just reliable as a dad)

5. Cern (we never really learn much about his relationship with his kids but it seemed pretty good from what we do know. Plus he went through a lot to get his kids back.)

6. Frank Wilson (He’s kinda just a slightly less good Darryl)

7. Henry Oak (He definitely means well and loves his kids a lot but his parenting style could be brought into question. Also he named his kids Lark and Sparrow and as someone unironically named Lyric with a twin of my own named Music that honestly just pissed me off.)

8. Agent Shmegan (I have nothing against him nor for him so he can just go here)

9. Ron Stampler (I feel like people forget he’s not actually that great of a dad. He in multiple instances forces Terry to be the adult and take responsibility despite him being a literal child and generally isn’t well equipped for parenthood even if he has good intentions. He also like asked Terry “who’s your daddy now?” after literally killing his father right in front of him and let Terry fall into a fire to get across himself. But still Ron goes through a lot of character growth and genuinely loves Terry and tries his best so I’ll give him that.)

10. Grant Li-Wilson (This might be to more personal bies but like if you know you got problems as a general rule don’t add a kid to the mix)

11. Sparrow Oak-Garcia (Another general rule: don’t go into parenthood with an already established expectation of what your child is going be like and if you do, don’t fucking tell them when they don’t meet it. He also didn’t allow Hero to have a normal childhood which is definitely taking away some points.)

12. Jodie Foster (I think he was a good dad… until Glen showed up at least, but even still he was fine)

13. Nicky Foster (Putting aside his good intentions and the complexities of the situation and whether or not he wanted to he straight up just abandoned his child. Which yk not great)

14. Tony Pepperoni (his daughter doesn’t like him and he generally isn’t a great guy but like eh I really don’t care about him)

15. Glenn Close (He was a bad influence, acted more as a friend than a dad, wasn’t emotionally available, put Nick in harms way, and was fairly neglectful through frequently leaving for his band stuff and doing things like going to Disney without Nick. Still he undeniably loved his son and sacrificed a lot for him. He’s a good dad in concept but not so much in practice.)

16. Bill Close (Again we really don’t know a lot about his relationship with Glenn but from what we do know he was just like a much worse Glenn)

17. Scam Likely (bro literally made a child for the shits and giggles then abandoned it like Christ dude wtf)

18. Scary’s bio dad (He didn’t directly harm her but also definitely wasn’t anything helpful)

19. Barry Oak (He’s just… really annoying and he did directly harm Henry emotionally at least without even the excuse of good intentions)

20. Gartok (hot take: enslaving your children is bad)

21. Willy Stampler (hot take: attempting to murder your child is also bad)

Alright! Glenn Trial Rules, here are my rankings of every dad (that I could remember) in dndads based on how good they are at being a dad. Disagree with me and make your own lists if you'd like!

Terry Jr Stampler

Ron Stampler

Marco Li-Wilson

Henry Oak

Walter

Agent Shmegan

Darryl Wilson

Cern

Grant Li-Wilson

Sparrow Oak-Garcia

Frank Wilson

Nicky Foster

Jodie Foster

Tony Pepperoni

Terry Sr. (vampire)

Glenn Close

Scam Likely

BIG SHANE SILVAAAA

Tucker Trout

Bill Close

Ed Farnsworth

Gartok

Barry Oak

Willy Stampler

Scary's Bio Dad

[blaec-ynk]

i know some people are absolutely incensed that Arcane dropped the ball on the classism and discrimination and poverty and all those plotlines they had introduced but the truth of the matter is that Arcane always framed any type of Zaunite insurrection/revolution against Piltover in bad lighting and claimed that any fight/war for the freedom and wellbeing of future generations is ultimately evil because it gets people living right now killed

Vander is the most sympathetic Undercity leader/hot shot only because he is supporting Piltover's superiority and oppression of the Undercity. he has a deal with the cops to ensure that he will keep his people obedient and subservient to Piltover and the cops. he aids the status quo and thus Piltover's exploitation of Zaun; he never encourages pushing for change in any manner, violent or non-violent, instead always pressuring those around him (esp Vi) to just take Piltover's scraps and mistreatment because you wouldnt want to lose your loved ones, would you? (which is just like, a threat. an actual threat that figures of authority like cops make to their victims to keep them inline) Completely ignoring the fact that people in Zaun HAVE, ARE, and WILL BE losing loved ones to police brutality, disease, toxic/radioactive exposure, famine, poverty, gang violence, etc. BECAUSE OF PILTOVER.

Arcane is/(started out as) a great show but it was always most sympathetic towards Piltover and the status quo. it never pushed for Zaun's independence/freedom in any meaningful way--and whenever it did deal with Zaun potentially becoming its own nation? it didn't show the power of revolutions, of class actions, of uniting and protesting and fighting back--it just said that if you sit your ass down tight and let the oppressive government shit on you enough, you might eventually be granted some rights--unless you fuck it up with a rocket, of course. but that's not how real life has ever worked

not only that but any attempt at fighting back is literally shown as being plain violence for violence's sake. we dont see or hear anything about how silco or vander planned on rebuilding the Undercity/Zaun, how they wanted to expand infrastructure, how they would support the people and keep them safe--Arcane doesnt paint revolutions as the complex operations they are, they just show us the violence of them and nothing else. like really, all Silco wants to do is use Shimmer to scare topside--but that's not how revolutions or fighting against opressors works! because Piltover will be scared, yes, but that just means they will double down harder on all the violence and restrictions. that's obvious. not only that, but lets say Piltover gets scared and retracts from Zaun completely--Zaun seems to be heavily dependent on trade from Piltover to get what they need to survive. Silco doesnt mention anything about how to fix that. and that to me just plays on harmful stereotypes about any and all kinds of social movements. all of the real work is reduced to violence.

i dont have a closing statement im just so pissed at how theyre handling the classism in s1 now that im rewatching it

[raddest-laddest]

ok. someone’s gonna have to come get my dad or i’m gonna tweak.

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[daily-whistlebreeze]

daily whistlebreeze until spo becomes PoV day 1398

I like seeing how different I can make gray cats by throwing Whis at them; anyways, Spotfur's been on my mind tonight

[ambersky0319]

Store managers said even a few minutes overtime will be a write up

I'm calling bullshit

[pun-demon]

And now a special thanks to our unexpected MVP in tackling The Horrors, let's give it up for SUBSTANCES!!! WOOO-