#just to be clear: while that post was about a fanfic i found

[beevean]

Hey I found your post about the Castlevania shipping somewhat unlike you, in the past I have seen you defend nsfw art of Sonic characters who are minors, or brushing of shipping kids with adults but you're clearly upset at problematic power imbalance and noncon tropes in shipping adults. I just wonder does that mean you have changed your mind on the topic ???

Alright, I can see why it seems that I'm being a hypocrite. I'll try to explain myself in the best way I can, even if I question your wording.

I don't hate power imbalance and noncon/dubcon at all. They're some of my favorite tropes, and I am not particularly shy in talking about it :P and it's precisely because I an fascinated by them that poor writing incenses me and I can't stop thinking about it. However, this is the part I have to highlight: poor writing in official products, because comparing a very popular Netflix show written by a respected professional who got paid and promoted for his work, with a 20 kudos fanfiction written by some nameless teen for free, is disingenuous. One has tremendous reach and the other has not.

In the responses in that post (I'm assuming you're talking about this one - hope it's this one because otherwise I'd look dumb lol), I eventually said "I have more respect for the fans who just find the abuse hot". There are thousands of fanfics that are irrealistic when it comes to abusive dynamics, that are literally nothing more than fetish fuel - and that's fine. I wouldn't read them, I would appreciate if people did more research, but they're harmless. Disgust is not harm and in this I have not changed my mind.

My problem with that particular ship is not necessarily the "noncon" part (which is not even noncon: it's dubcon, it's deliberately murky). It's that the noncon part, and not even in a porn fic but in an official product that is praised for the depth of its writing, gets brushed off, because the writing was rushed and made artificially more "wholesome". The dissonance of morals is too big for me to ignore, and the resounding success that it got from its audience even more so - not even from the "step on me mommy" crowd or the "wow I love toxic relationships, they're so fucked up <3" crowd (hell I'm one of them), but from the people who genuinely agree with the story that "yes, this is cute".

I wouldn't care so much if this was just a non-canon ship. There are plenty of popular non-canon ships that make me angry because I think they have a terrible dynamic and I don't understand the appeal. I don't care. But this is not a ship, it's not just some dozens of fans findind two characters hot: this is a story. And this changes everything.

I believe that an official product, that is incidentally praised by nearly everyone, should have been more responsible with its messages. Not in a "fiction affects reality" way, but in a "this story is terribly written, I try to understand why I seem to be in the minority in thinking so, and the justifications are eerily reminiscent of real life abuse apologism" way. I'm not saying that NFCV fans will watch the show and think "oh boy! my eyes have been opened! maybe if I, a woman, raped a man into slavery, he'll love me too!"... but let's be real: unlike the boogeyman of incest, female-on-male abuse is still widely misunderstood. Rape that is not "man violently forces himself on a woman he doesn't know" is still widely misunderstood. The show had the chance to challenge those misconceptions, but instead, it only confirmed them. The fact that it happened mostly out of shoddy writing makes it even worse, because there is not even full authorial intent.

I can safely say that the overwhelming majority of people who draw porn of Tails are well aware that sexualizing real kids is wrong. This sort of moral cannot be influenced by porn, because it's too rooted in our consciousness (people who sexualize real life kids are born that way and it's a completely different topic). Those people have their own reasons for drawing that kind of porn. I don't want to know them, I don't want to see them, please keep it in your corner and tag your shit, but it's just tasteless fanart at worst and I don't care. I grew up in a much edgier era when genuine graphic torture porn was written for no reason other than to shock others, so I don't really bother to wonder why someone would write or draw something disgusting. As long as it's avoidable, it's fine. It's harder to avoid a popular official product that is always touted as an example of excellent writing and also happens to be the adaptation of a franchise I've grown to love, considered superior to said franchise to boot.

It doesn't help that there is proof of the writer in question being a prolific sex pest whose crimes eerily match its writing. So in his case, I do wonder why he wrote certain things.

Just as a note, I don't really talk about it here, but I used to be a fierce anti-Twilight back in the day, and it was for similar reasons: I was appalled at that series' sexism and misanthropy and abuse apologism and I thought it was a real issue, because I think widespread stories ought to be more careful with their themes than fanfics and fanart. Not even necessarily to "teach" a lesson (NFCV is for adults anyway, it's not meant to be educational), but... well, as respect for your audience, you know?

And as for the people who don't see any issue... again, I don't want to assume anything about their morals. Maybe for them it really is just an intriguing ship. But I would like to at least urge someone to think about what they're saying, because when you say "no, he wasn't raped, merely seduced, and anyway he deserved it for being stupid, and he got a good deal out of it so why did he have to ruin such a beautiful relationship?", now that is the thing that could affect real people, not shipping a 12 yo and a 15 yo cartoon hedgehogs.

tl;dr: official stories and ships/fan content have different impacts and I judge them differently. This also happened to be about a topic I very much care about.

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[starkwlkr]

just a girl | f1

an: this is me asking for your letterboxd pls i need letterboxd mutuals 🤭 my account is deadpunks also made the reader have glasses because we need more glasses representation in fanfics 😔 (to the girlies that wear glasses, this is for you!!!)

Las Vegas Grand Prix Weekend

“What movie did I watch?” Y/n read the comment that a fan left on her instagram live. She adjusted her glasses and smiled. “I just finished ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ it’s so underrated. The cast is so iconic like you have Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Denise Richards, Amy Adams and Allison Janney in one movie. It’s definitely in my top four.”

It was hours after qualifying and Y/n was exhausted, but all she wanted to do was finish watching her movie. Unfortunately for her, the movie she had just named wasn’t anywhere on streaming so she brought her portable dvd player and a stack of dvds. When Lando saw her watching a movie and crocheting a scarf for herself in her garage, he laughed at the scene. He actually found it adorable.

“What’s my letterboxd? Okay, listen. . . I don’t give it out to just anyone so this is between you lovely people and me, okay? My letterboxd is ilovecillianmurphy420 and please follow me, I am desperate,” Y/n laughed. She then took her phone and saw all the new follower notifications from letterboxd. “I’m going to ask the social media admin to ask everyone on the grid for their four favorites. Lando is definitely going to name animated movies. That or he’ll forget what a movie is and say nothing.”

What’s your four favorites?

“Whoever your asked for my four favorites, I’m blocking you. How dare you ask me that question . . . Paddington 1 and 2, Saw and Mamma Mia. I know I said drop dead gorgeous was in my top four, but I lie all the time.”

The next day, her letterboxd account had become the second most followed account.

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, letterboxd and others

yourusername just watched the masterpiece that is jackass number two

formulaupdating can i ask why you don’t post about f1 that often?

yourusername no you may not

oscarpiastri i was there too

yourusername ok

landonorris didn’t you watch that last week?

yourusername this is my own private domicile and i will not be harassed

landonorris ?

yourusername bitch

Load more comments

After The Race / Interviews

Y/n hated being interviewed, it was the absolute worst thing on earth. No wait, forgetting her AirPods was the worst thing, but interviews were right behind that. She was exhausted and now she had to deal with reporters asking her what she thought about the championship battle.

Her fingers brushed the strap of her cap nervously as the interviewer’s voice cut through her anxiety.

“Y/n, P7 today—solid result. How are you feeling?" The reporter asked.

Y/n blinked, her eyes flicking around as she tried to process the question, and then her gaze landed on her own shoes. She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking up only to meet the camera for a brief, uncomfortable moment.

“Uh, yeah. It, uh . . . it was. . . good. I mean . . . yeah, I’m happy with it, I guess," she mumbled, her voice faltering.

The reporter smiled kindly, already used to the shy responses. “What do you think made the difference here in Vegas?" He waited patiently for Y/n’s answer.

Y/n’s lips parted as she prepared an answer, but the words tangled up in her brain. She shifted from foot to foot, adjusting her grip on the cap. Fuck, why can’t you think of anything?!, she thought to herself. “Uh . . . I don’t know . . . it’s just . . . uh, a little . . . weird, with all the lights and, you know, the . . . Strip, and, um . . .” Her voice trailed off.

The interviewer gave her a soft chuckle, understanding that Y/n’s awkwardness wasn’t lack of confidence, but rather a product of her introverted nature. Before the interview could go on, two figures appeared behind Y/n.

Oscar had cut in, Y/n’s pair of glasses in his hand. He placed a hand on her shoulder and handed the glasses to her while Lando ruffled her hair. She happily accepted them and placed them on her face.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve tortured her enough, mate.”

Y/n let out a relieved sigh as she turned to Oscar, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing great, really,” he said quietly, his tone meant to ease her nerves.

Lando then spoke up. “Are we done with the interrogation? She's literally about to disappear into her own head if we keep this up."

The reporter chuckled. “I was just asking Y/n about her performance today.”

Y/n hadn’t even noticed that she had completely abandoned the interview. She had started doodling on Oscar’s hand. The Aussie had given her the pen he had used from a fan when he was signing autographs. It was their thing. Whenever she would get nervous and Oscar was around, he would let her draw on his hand. Somehow the hand doodles calmed her.

“Right, Y/n?”

That’s when she picked up her head and noticed Lando was staring at her. “Sorry, what?”

“The race,” Lando reminded her. “She was brilliant out there. Absolutely nailed it.” Y/n didn’t have the words to argue. Instead, she ducked her head, feeling both embarrassed and grateful.

The three drivers said their goodbye to the reporter and walked away. Lando threw an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, grinning. “You know, for someone who hates interviews, you’ve got a hell of a lot to say . . . just not when it’s on camera.”

Y/n’s lips twitched into a small smile, and she felt a brief wave of gratitude for her friends’ protective camaraderie. She glanced at Oscar, who gave her a knowing nod, his usual quiet confidence offering her a sense of calm.

“You guys are unbelievable.” Y/n laughed lightly.

“Yeah well you’re the idiot who’s going to have to deal with us.” Lando replied.

“Unfortunately.” She teased.

“The idiot with the crocheting skills and silly little film reviews that are very popular on the box app.” Lando added.

“What?” Y/n stopped walking and stared at Lando. She looked over at Oscar for an answer, but the Aussie just shrugged his shoulders.

“I do believe our dear Y/n wants a hot priest?” Lando teased, bringing up Y/n’s lastest letterboxd review about Fleabag. “That’s a bit scandalous, don’t you think?”

“Hot priest?” Oscar couldn’t believe Lando had just said those two words together.

“You two don’t get it! Come on, we’re watching Fleabag!”

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them being a sub.

people of tevyat look in horror as a fanfic about you being a sub is released, not knowing you ARE actually a sub. not proofread. also shoutout to @/gameperson23100 (not sure how tags work here im just a tumblr noob so i just did like a twitter thing) they were in my comments on my first post about this and had an idea about a sub reader! i just expanded on it a little :))

Creator! Reader who seems so elegant yet have such an untouchable aura towards them. Everyone praises them for being so mature, for being so calm and collected towards stressfull siturations, everyone fawns over them. Just one glance from their slightly intimidating eyes has their knees trembling. The archons praise them as someone to really look up to, a true pillar of Tevyat.

When fanfictions like the Creator x Reader became popular, there was an unsaid rule that you were the dominant one in the relationship.

So imagine everyones suprise when a book from an anonymous author potraying the Creator as a sub pops up in Inazuma. Yae Miko was suprised this was published unsupervised! She shut it down but it was too late, almost all of its copies were sold! Everyone was baffled at how the author potrayed the Creator, when it came to their duties, the author wrote them perfectly but when it came to the romance between the Creator and whoever the reader is... It was a catastrophe! The Creator? Submissive?? Down on their knees?? Begging?! Getting degraded and liking it?!?!

BLASPHEMY!

People of Tevyat were conflicted at this book, everyone had divided opinions. Some saying that the Creator is a sub, while some saying they are a dom. There are a few people who suggest that the Creator may be a switch but this gets shut down by both sides. It even reached the scholars of Sumeru! With debates turning into heated arguments that escalates into fights.

The archons, except Nahida, were upset at this book as this somewhat taints your image. (although they secretly love the idea of the creator being beneath their feet) The acolytes were also divided and different opinions, with Alhaitham finding it somewhat interesting while Kaeya found it a little hilarious and treated the book like a parody. Xiao on the other hand, had the same opinion as Zhongli, the book may taint your image thus he made it his mission to hunt down the anonymous author. Itto, who got the book from a random stranger he befriended, treated the book like a sacred scripture or a guilty pleasure. He knows it's probably bad but he just can't stop reading it! Wriothesley read the book during tea time, and thought that the idea of the Creator being a sub was possible...

"And that concludes the report on Fontaine." Neuvillette concluded his report. You only hummed in response as you looked around the room. the Archons were there and some acolytes were also present in the meeting. You felt as if they have something they want to ask but is holding themselves back.

'...Is it about the book...? Fuck, why did it have to be so accurate...' you thought.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure all of you are aware of a certain book going around." you spoke up, their minds started scrambling, thinking that you would be upset and angry that they haven't found the author yet. "Your Grace, we are all working hard to hunt down the author and imprison whoever they are." Zhongli spoke up, you shook your head.

"No need, it's... An interesting book." you told them, you cleared your throat again, trying to ease your embarrassment. That book ended on a cliff hanger too! No way in hell were you going to imprison the author after writing an accurate potrayal of you!

Everyone didn't show it in their face but they were shocked, but even more shocked at how red your ears are while you tried to keep a calm face. Did this mean that you didn't mind the potrayal of the book about you?! Or are you truly a sub?! Do you just like the book?! What is it???!! HOW IS IT INTERESTING??!!? Their minds were filled with unanswered questions.

Word spread to Tevyat really fast, and as soon as they heard that you called the book interesting, it just added more fuel in the debates about you being a sub or a dom. Like two groups in the same fandom fighting for their non canon ship! The book would still be treated like an illegal book, a guilty pleasure.

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies (I)

summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.3K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.

masterlist

Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.

i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant

if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow

i'll be waiting for you :)

Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.

After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.

All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.

Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.

She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.

For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.

Except, of course, the FBI.

Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.

Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.

Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.

Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.

After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.

She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.

She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.

“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.

The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.

“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.

She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.

Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.

Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.

“Someone would definitely approve of that.”

Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.

“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.

“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”

“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”

“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.

“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”

“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”

“Have fun, Cinderella!”

Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.

Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.

“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.

“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”

“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.

The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.

“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the babbit masterpost

HELLO welcome to the Babbit's Blog masterpost!!! On this post you'll find some fun facts about yours allegedly (me <33), some ref's for my different 'sona's, and a couple links to my fics and whatnot! Are you ready? No?? Excellent neither am i let's do this

Meet the Babbits!: the self-inserts/personas

the first ref is for my general/most commonly used persona, Babbit! They aren't really an anthro/furry as much as they are a humanoid with the head of a rabbit. I like to think of this one as the 'me' that's in my head- the purest form of my thoughts and feelings, but not the solid real-life me. The second ref is my self-insert persona, Rabbit, the one i picture using most often when i'm reading a fic or imagining a self-insert scenario lol. This one is like the me that people see and meet and speak to in real actual life, if that makes sense. It's the way I come across to people and all of the things I wish I could iron out of my crumpled up real-self <3 The third is a much more specific 'sona, Hazel, who started off as a FNaF:SB animatronic self-insert. She does have a backstory and lore now, which i think makes her more of an OC than a self-insert, but a lot of her is still me and a lot of what she experiences in her backstory is from my life/instills the same feelings that were taken away from things that happened to me, so I think she kinda counts enough to put a ref for her here sdkjfsdhfj (Why the different names?: makes things a little easier, and they hold meaning to me symbolically, I guess!)

Content!: Here's a short list of my various fics that will get updated as I create more! (it was, in reality, not fine.): FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader fanfic, gender neutral, for general audiences, fluff-fest, idiots to lovers "You're the new tech/repairman at the Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, unfortunately. Your first task? To make the Daycare Attendant into two separate animatronics. It's an amazing opportunity, really, and there is nothing you love more than getting a chance to really work with such tech! The only bad part is that you don't know how to tell anyone that you just might be in over your head. (You are extremely in over your head.)" After Everything Was Fixed (but you were still broken): AU FNaF Sun/Moon x (Animatronic) Reader, gender neutral, read with caution, angst, harm to sentient robots, traumatized main character, hurt/comfort slow burn, romance slow burn "The virus was gone. Everyone was fixed. You had been put back together. It's a time for a new beginning, to do things right this time, to wash away the past and paint a better future. Their memories of the infection had- mercifully- been taken away from them. Yours had not. He doesn't understand why you try to avoid him. Even if you could tell him, you're not sure you would. You want to be his friend, but it's difficult; every time you see him, you remember the hundreds of times he killed you." A fic where you are a repairman-themed STAFFbot, taking place post-virus. In the past, Moon, infected by the virus, took delight in attacking and dismantling the reader during the night. Now, in the present, you find yourself burdened by the memories of the past while everyone around you has no recollection of the events. It gets more complicated as Sun and Moon, both now cleared of the virus, grow curious of you. This fic will follow a series of arcs, presently on arc one. For anyone curious, feel free to send an ask about the arcs in 'After Everything Was Fixed'! The Sun, the Moon, and the Blazing Comet (title subject to change): AU FNaF Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Reader, gender neutral, teen and up audiences, travel/journey, betrayal, hurt/comfort slowburn, reconciling, themes of breaking the mold, found family (TBA) Hold My Broken Hands (title subject to change): AU FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader, gender neutral, mature audiences, dark romance, dark comedy, severe bodily harm, mutilation, murder, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, lovesick (TBA)

My AU's!: i'm going to make a Babbit-AUs-Masterpost and then put the link here i swear, i just have so many im sorry jdfhsjdfhs (like more than twenty)

Fandoms!: I enjoy, have been in, made or make content for: Pokemon Undertale FNaF Creepypasta (YEAH I KNOW LET ME LIVE OKAY) My Little Pony (I KNOW OKAY LEAVE ME ALONE) Steven Universe Star Trek Warrior Cats i'm sure theres more but i just forgot everything i have ever liked wheeeeeze

Whomst the hell?: HI I'm Rabbit! Or Bones! Or Babbit! Or Avarice/Ava, if you want to go for a more legitimate-sounding name. I'm 24 years old, prefer to use they/them pronouns, and so, so incredibly ace. I've been drawing as long as I've had the ability to hold a pen, writing since I was in grade school, and being a plague to the ones around me since the beginning of time! If you've seen my art, its probably from the absolute mountain of fluffy-wuffy love-dovey (y/n) x Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipse doodles I've been sharing for several years now sdfjhsdj. If you've heard of my fics, it was probably the one I made just for fun that's now turned into an actual fanfiction that I enjoy writing, the silly-lovey-fluff incarnate (it was, in reality, not fine.) !

Likes n Dislikes!: I'm a sucker for sap, fluff, and lots and lots of love-dovey bullshit! I also like stories about finding oneself and monsters being befriended or loved. I like space, aliens, robots, the odd and strange, injecting humanity into things not human, monsters, creatures, animals, the fae, concepts of spirits and karma and the afterlife, and more! I dislike 'fanservice', most anime tbh LOL it's not personal I just don't enjoy it im srry, FLY BABIES i know they have an actual name but i hate that word too pls just dont i will scream, sexually aggressive/forceful content/characters, being made to feel small, dumb, or trapped,

Other!: I have a pretty high gross-out tolerance! I also have a pretty high 'wow that's messed up huh' tolerance, in that sometimes I will just say stuff that's super grim or dark or messed up and not realize it lmao. I am full of random facts and anecdotes, especially weird or gross ones! sometimes i get on tangents that can go for actual hours so pls forgive that lol

WARNINGS: THIS BLOG MAY FEATURE CONTENT BASED ON/RELATED TO THEMES OF GUILT, CHILDHOOD LOSS, GRIEF, SELF HATRED, DISCONNECTION FROM REALITY/SELF, TRAUMA, AND SEVERE DEPRESSION/ANXIETY. YES I AM GETTING HELP. YES I AM OKAY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND UNDERSTANDING.

bonus persona: crybaby

[kiwi-cult]

PARSELSCRIPT!!

Hi. This is mostly for the people from Discord but tadah! I'm finally making that Tumblr post I've been talking about for months.

(Warning this will probably be very chaotic)

To anyone new who sees this: me and some friends made an alphabet for Parseltongue from Harry Potter, aka Parselscript. I'll take you on a little journey to explain my process and give you some tips, should you want to start writing it.

Disclaimer: I wanted to make this script usable for the writer I made it for so it's less of an actual language and more just some characters to represent the Latin (or ‘English’) letters. Like a cipher. It is not realistic. If I made this realistic I'd have to add all sorts of things to indicate body language and smell etc and also have to figure out what sounds Parseltongue actually has etcetera etcetera. No.

Alright.

It all started when we started talking about Parselscript in a Discord server and I asked my friend Ava to visualise the script because she seemed to have a clear vision of it, so I could use it to go from there.

That's how we got this.

I think we all wanted to go with something flowery for some reason, so we did.

After this I just messed around with brushes and shapes in Procreate for a while, tweaking things and trying to make it more writeable. I ended up with something like this (still a rough draft).

It may look a bit like random squiggles at first, and it kinda was at this point. As you can see there's also a lot of added dots and lines, which can be a bit hard to remember and I see you wondering what it looks like without them.

Well here it is.

I showed this to the people I brainstormed with in Discord and we decided to go with the more complicated version because it looks better lol.

This is one of the final versions.

It says: "Hello, my name is Kiwi Cult. I made this script after reading a fanfic called Terrible, But Great written by Isalise the loml on Archive Of Our Own."

Now, to talk about some of the (boring) logistics.

It is read from left to right, top to bottom.

Every separate combination of squiggles you see above is a separate word. Every word is made up of a starting character, one or more letter characters and an ending character.

The very first character you see in the top left corner, with the three petal looking thingies, is a silent starting character that indicates the start of a sentence. Not word: sentence. The end of the character, that little circle thingy, is a comma. So, the first combination says: "Hello,".

Then, the second combination starts with a kind of hook going down and right. This is also a silent character and more meant as an interpunction, that's why you don't pronounce it. It's kind of just a way to start the word when there isn't anything special about it (aka it's not the start of a sentence, a name, an exclamation or a question. But every character is special in its own right🥲). The same kind of hook can be found at the bottom of the combination, except going up. It has the same use, basically just a way to end the word when there isn't anything special about it. Now, you might ask: why does it go right and not left?

We talked about this a while, because I wanted the direction to have some kind of meaning. We wondered about gender, tone, blah blah all kinds of complicated things but in the end I just wanted this script to be writable so I chose to have proficient writers in Parseltongue make their hooks go left and beginners have their hooks go right.

Now, you might notice that I end my words with a hook going right. That is because I don't see myself as a pro in writing in Parselscript okay? It's hard!😭💀

Now, other than the character indicating the start of a sentence, the circle, and the simple hook, there are a few other characters to start or end a combination (don't worry I'll show them all to you at the end, you won't have to use your imagination for long).

We have a character to indicate a name. Now, the rule is: name indicator over start of sentence indicator. So, if you start a sentence with a name, you'll use the symbol to indicate a name, NOT BOTH. (That's not even possible but I don't even want to see you try and butcher my child).

There is a character to indicate a sentence that would usually be followed by an exclamation mark (!), but at the start of the sentence. Then you’d end the exclamated sentence with a period.

The same goes for a question mark (?): put it at the start of a question, not the end. Again, it wouldn't even be possible to use it at the end of a combination but I DON'T EVEN WANNA SEE YOU TRY.

Finally we have a period (.), which looks a bit like a flower with four petals. You do use this one at the end of a word, and it is always followed by a start of sentence indicator or a name indicator. I know people are rejecting capitals these days in their typing but I don't wanna see it. If you start a word after a period with a hook I will find you.

If a sentence starts with a name that is also a question or exclamation you’d use the question/exclamation mark above the name indicator, otherwise it would take away a vital part of the sentence while a name can still be read even if it doesn’t have its indicator.

So, to put it all next to each other, the symbols we have are: -start of sentence indicator -name indicator -exclamation mark (!) -question mark (?) -period (.) -hook (direction depends on efficiency) -comma (,) (direction depends on efficiency)

I didn't make adjusted characters to indicate a capital letter like we do in the Latin alphabet, meaning that the only things you can kind of 'capitalise' are the start of a sentence and the start of a name.

It is also slightly phonetic. Emphasis on slightly. I made separate characters for almost all letters in the Latin alphabet, so you can just write your word normally with Parselscript characters. The only difference is that I made only one character for the 'f/v' sounds and that there is no 'c' character. If a word has a 'c' in it, you'll have to use the character for a 'k' or an 's'. Also a ‘q’ can be made with ‘k’ and ‘w’ etc.

A few examples: -character=karakter -parselscript=parselskript -crazy=krazy -science=siense

-quiz=kwuiz

I know it looks a bit confusing, but I trust you guys' ability to read context clues and figure out what someone means when you try to decipher Parselscript.

Now, for a word like 'phonetic' or 'decipher' I don't really care whether you use the separate characters for 'p' and 'h' or just the one for the 'f/v' sound. You do you.

I also don’t use any double letters because they basically sound the same and it looks ugly but if you want to use double symbols feel free.

I also made some numbers that do not look like they fit with the rest of the script but I promise you that's just because you're not used to it yet. Our own numbers don't belong with our alphabet either because we nicked them from the Arabs (I think, don't quote me on this) but we don’t notice that either.

Tadah. (Yes I know it’s out of order I told you this was gonna be chaotic af)

Other than that, feel free to ask me questions if I've forgotten anything or if you're wondering about anything. I can't guarantee that I have a good answer because I might not even have thought about it myself, but I can always try to come up with something. I am one person, I'm afraid I haven't been able to take everything about a script into consideration.

Now, without further ado; here is the key.

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: there are two versions. The first has a bit more loose squiggles than the second one. I realised that when I was writing physically, the second version was much nicer to write, so it is kind of like Simplified Parselscript. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna put some lore behind it or not yet. But I included the og one if you're a tryhard and wanna take it on.

Now, if you're gonna start writing it yourself, here is the stroke order.

I tried to make it as clear as possible but please ask me if you're confused on anything.

Red is the starting point of the whole symbol, the arrows indicate the direction to go in, x marks the start of the small extra's.

Now, I'd also recommend writing on some type of paper with vertical lines like this if you're gonna do it physically.

You can just turn a paper with normal, horizontal lines a quarter to get vertical lines. Also, do NOT write in between the lines. They are meant to help you keep the start and ending on the same line so you don't start going into crazy directions while writing. So, start your sentence symbol or hook or whatever in the middle of the line and try to keep coming back to that vertical line after every letter. As you gain more proficiency you'll probably go straight into the next letter without going back to the line all the time but I think this is a good starting point.

I also recommend writing with a fountain pen or something else that flows well because it’s easier to write that way.

Here is another rough draft I made on physical paper to get a feel for it. As you can see this draft had a lot more different starting characters and ending characters so just ignore that. Hope this motivates you a bit or smth.

Lmk if you want me to post a video of me writing in this Parselscript.

Also please let me know if you know of someone else who's also made a Parselscript because I tried to look for it on Tumblr and Twitter etc but I couldn't find anything.

I also feel like there’s a big mistake I made that I realised the last time I worked on this script but I’ve forgotten it now so if you find out please comment or dm or anything💀

Also feel free to use in your own fic, tho a little tiny shoutout in the a/n would be nice :) I’m @/kiwi_cult on Ao3, @/slvtr_ on Wattpad, @/kiwi cult on ff.net, @/slvtr.1 on TikTok and @/.slvtr on Discord.

Credits:

@natis-balamnimaja @asterialvia and @/zee (who unfortunately left the server and I don't know the Tumblr @ of) for brainstorming with me and @isalisewrites for inspiring us and making the server we discussed this in.

Okay bye :) tell me if I forgot anything.

����

[hispg]

Fantasize

Pairings: R2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your new neighbor Leon knows that you're married, but he can't help it but fantasize about you.

Wc: 3.9k

Warnings: smut,unprotected sex,p in v, fingering, dirty thoughts, cheating ( don't be like them), soft dom! Leon, pet names.

An:Sorry for the delay in posting, university has been taking up all my time and I'm also having some personal problems. Anyway, thanks for the 200 followers! And for all the messages I've been receiving, sorry for not answering them all. But please know that I read each one and smile like a fool, thank you for your love <3. I'm preparing a fanfic with Fuckboy! Leon, maybe it'll take a while, but I promise it'll be worth it!

Leon knew you were a married woman, he always knew, ever since he saw the shiny ring on your ring finger. A more than clear sign of your marriage.

Not that it bothered him at first, after all, he had just moved into the same condominium as you. He thought he'd just be another neighbor, but then he was wrong.

But then he started to get close to you, doing simple things like helping you carry the groceries you bought. Even holding the elevator open so you could get in.

Small talk here and there, nothing too personal or anything. Just two people getting to know each other. And by some chance of fate, he ended up finding you an interesting person, the more he talked to you, the more mesmerized he became.

Was it wrong? Of course it was, but he couldn't help fantasizing about you, it was stronger than him.

And frankly nothing improved when he found out that your husband didn't spend much time at home, if you saw him more than twice a month it was pure luck.

You were such a sweet and gentle person, he couldn't understand how your husband didn't mind spending so much time at home. You were alone most of the time, and that legitimately bothered him.

At some point he asked for your number, so he could talk to you often. And indeed he did, he spoke to you almost every day, even if it was just a simple message, but he was interested to know how you were doing.

After a while he found himself thinking about you more than he should, whether at work or when he was alone at home. He didn't know why, but you gradually occupied all his thoughts. Seven days a week, all the time he imagined you, with him.

He knew it was morally wrong, since you were a married woman. Besides, he was only a cop, what could he offer you? Your husband could certainly give you anything you asked for. Just about everything.

Maybe one thing less.

The walls were thin, you could easily hear what was going on from the other side. The adjoining walls of his bedroom gave him the opportunity to hear what was going on on the other side. Which was exactly your bedroom.

It was impossible not to notice the little noises you made, the low squeaks and moans that you swore no one else could hear.

But Leon heard perfectly.

He had keen instincts, perhaps because he was a police officer and needed things to be like that. However, he didn't understand what caused these noises, the moans, the heavy breathing, the gasps that he heard so clearly.

Until one day he realized, it was you touching yourself.

Letting out soft cries, playing with your needy pussy. He could already imagine you arching your body on the bed, clutching the sheets and moaning with every touch.

Incredibly exciting, he thought. Yet he couldn't help imagining the fact that you had no one to do it for you. No one to fill your cunt, to not let you do this job on your own.

And then he realized, your husband could give you everything except one thing. Pleasure.

And that Leon could give you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Every time he heard you doing these things, his mind went wild. Fuck, he could feel his cock getting hard just from that, thinking it could be him.

Imagining you arching and bending your body towards him, while he was buried between your legs. Or rather, how well you could fit him, the gigantic desire he had to fuck you dumb, make you addicted to his cock.

He often tried not to think about it, it was morally wrong, of course. He tried to maintain good behavior, composure, but it was impossible to do that when you were so close to him.

It was even worse when you called him to your house, just to chat and eat the delicious cookies you baked. He didn't know if it was on purpose, but you always wore short clothes to these small gatherings, shorts so short and tight that he could clearly see the curve of your ass. Plus the graceful fact that you didn't wear a bra when you were at home, giving him the opportunity to see your breasts swaying slightly as you walked.

Maybe that's why he would ask for more coffee or cookies, just to see your figure walking around the kitchen, providing the perfect image for his unbridled imagination.

In his mind, his life would only be perfect if he had you by his side, in a routine where he could fuck you every day of the week. Every single day.

At this point, he's lost count of how many times he's jerked off to you, how many times he's dreamt that it was your hand doing the work, not his.

From time to time he even thought about how wrong it was, but by then it was too late, his cum was oozing out all over him, making him let out a slight grunt of pleasure. Spilling it all over his sheets, making a mess.

The next day he would greet you as if nothing had happened, with the biggest innocent smile on his face.

But all his self-control went down the drain once he saw you wearing a tight red nightgown, it was made of silk and fitted your body perfectly.

He couldn't stop staring for a second, and he could already feel something hardening in his body.

"Thank you, sweetheart." You say with a soft smile, looking at him.

The reason he was at your house right now was that he was helping you put a heavy package inside, and maybe he was going to put more than the package inside.

"Nothing at all. Want some help unpacking?" He replied, wiping his uniform a little.

And you didn't know why, but something sparked in you every time you saw him in his uniform. He looked so handsome like that.

"Yes, please." You nod. It was obvious that you didn't need his help for such a simple thing, but if it meant he'd stay longer, then you'd let it be.

All you got from him was a smile, and he started looking in the box for a place to open it, and you went to find a pair of scissors.

Once you returned he was kneeling on the floor, slowly opening the box with his hands. As soon as he looked up, he saw too much, his gaze went straight to your thighs, exactly to the middle of your legs.

At the same moment he blushed, trying to look away. But before either of you could say a word, the lights flickered and went out for good. A sudden blackout.

Leon was the first to react, he stood up abruptly and bumped into you, holding you by the waist to prevent you from falling.

On impulse, you grabbed his shoulders, just to keep your balance. It was only at that moment that you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes stared at you intensely, as if for the last time.

Not only that, but you felt a certain bulge in your stomach, and it didn't take more than two seconds for you to understand what it was all about.

Just a brief glimpse of your thighs was enough for him to get hard, and even more so holding you so close.

"I'm sorry..." He whispers awkwardly, still holding you in his arms.

You don't know if it was your instinct, or if it was your body aching for any kind of touch, but before you could imagine it you pushed your lips to his, kissing him with a force you didn't even know you had.

He obviously hesitated, the weight of the act bearing down on his back in an abrupt way. It was so wrong, a part of him just wanted to push you away and say no, but by then he wasn't thinking straight, his body went into overdrive.

It wasn't long before he was moving his lips against yours in pure synchronicity, his fingers curving around your waist, effectively sticking the two of you together. At that moment it was as if nothing else mattered, perhaps it was the lust affecting your thoughts, the bottled-up desire to touch each other.

Too much to describe, and it could only be demonstrated through this physical contact, the way his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring every inch. Taking the time to savor the moment, because he genuinely didn't know if this would be the first and last time.

His hands reached down to lift your nightgown, cupping your ass and pushing you against him even more. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't stop. Just feeling sorry for your poor husband. Not that would stop him from doing anything.

You were almost in the same situation, except that your mind was foggy, you were already feeling hot and bothered by a simple kiss. A kiss like the one your husband had never been able to give you, and perhaps could never make you feel so aroused by a simple act.

God, if it was so wrong, why did it have to be so good?

Even though you tried to open your mouth to speak at some point, Leon wouldn't let you, he always pressed his lips against yours harder, forcing you to keep quiet. And before he did anything else, he lifted you up by your ass, carrying you across the couch. He was only guided by his senses, since he was more than used to being in your house.

"Shit, we shouldn't have-" you protest, and he shuts you up with another kiss, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you, holding your wrists above your head, preventing you from moving or anything.

Soon you felt his full weight on top of you, as his warm breath hit your cheek, while he nibbled lightly, "It's too late to say no."

Yes, he was right.

Now was not the time for remorse or saying no, because let's face it, it's not like you were going to say no.

And hell, you knew so well that you should say no, but he wasn't helping either. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing and nibbling your neck, making you gasp and squirm under him.

You nestled your hands in his hair, pulling him in for another thirsty kiss. You simply acted like someone who hadn't been touched in months, every little brush against you was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch, remembering what it felt like to have your skin against his, a sensation he wouldn't forget even if he wanted to. All Leon could feel now was pity, pity for your poor husband.

Why was that? Because Leon was sure that he would make you feel like never before, a sensation that your husband could not possibly give you.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he whispers, looking at you with a little smile.

All you did was nod, your flushed and embarrassed face already saying a lot. At the same time as you felt a lust burning throughout your body, there was a guilt that consumed you in an overwhelming way.

If it was so wrong, why did this shit have to be so good?

Your mind was blurred and confused, as if all you could focus on were his touches, the way he was playing with the waistband of your panties, threatening to pull them down at any moment. The way his blue eyes penetrated you, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

As soon as his lips touched your neck, you felt your body twitch, and a small moan escaped your lips. Each act made your body burn, it had been so long since you'd been touched like this, something about him excited you too much. More than it should.

He took his time, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck, shoulders, down to your breasts. Where he made a point of slowly taking off your nightgown, revealing what he wanted, you didn't wear a bra at home, so this was just another advantage for him. As soon as he flicked his tongue out to make contact with your skin, he stopped. Something was bothering him.

His gaze was on your hands, specifically on your ring finger, looking at your wedding ring. Then he took your hand, slowly removing the ring.

"Today you'll be mine, you don't have to wear this." His voice was low and husky, and he didn't care about your ring at all, he just took it off and threw it somewhere in the room.

It would take you some time to find it again.

"Leon I-" He shushed you, pressing two fingers to your lips, forcing you to open wide. Soon you had two fingers in your mouth, and he moved them back and forth, making sure you sucked it all in.

"No talking for today, baby." The velvety voice once again drew a sly whimper from you, making you hold him tight.

His deft fingers moved down to your wet slit, rubbing your entrance in circles, his fingertips doing a marvelous job on you.

"You're touch depraved, aren't you?" Leon asks, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

You were so wet, just from simple touches, it wasn't hard to guess that you were the type to get turned on by silly things.

Another whimper escapes your lips, your nails digging into his forearm, and from the smile he gave you, he was certainly enjoying the situation.

The way he knew exactly where to touch, how to touch. It was simply enough to drive you insane. You didn't even know how he did it, but he did.

His fingers found your clit, and as soon as they did, he started stroking it with his thumb, lightly, just to see every reaction you gave.

He would keep each one in his memory, it would be the most vivid memories he'd had in a while.

"So wet, just for me, isn't it?" A pure tease, just to drive you even crazier.

You nodded dumbly, he was all you needed at that moment. You'd never felt this way before, and you wondered how he could do it.

Without warning he slipped a finger into you, stretching your tight walls gently, curling his fingers and searching for your sensitive spots, and he wouldn't stop until he found them.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered huskily, removing his fingers from your mouth so that you could moan for him.

You couldn't do anything more than moan or mumble things here or there, so when he increased the speed and added another finger it was enough to make you see stars.

"There, there, it feels good when you touch there." In a whimper you say, as soon as you feel his fingers curving around your sweet spots.

All he did was bite his lip, seeing how pleased you were with him. He couldn't wait to fuck you, his mind was stuck on the idea.

He would be the man for you, and you would be his woman. He could easily fulfill the role your husband should be playing.

"Is that good?" He purrs in your ear, licking your earlobe.

You bite your lip and nod, another dirty moan coming from your lips. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the way he stroked your clit as he fucked you with his fingers was enough to make you go wild with him.

"Come for me." He purrs at you, and in one swift movement he finds your breast, wrapping his tongue around your sensitive nipple.

He sucked like crazy, making a point of doing so until he felt your nipple harden in his wet muscle.

Before you knew it, your hips were moving in sync with his movements, in perfect harmony.

God knows how he knew every sensitive spot of yours so well, maybe he'd been waiting for this more than you realized.

"Leon! Fuck-," you moan loudly, rolling your eyes and arching your body, feeling your orgasm wash over you intensely. In a way that has never happened before.

He gave you a lopsided grin and a contented murmur, extremely proud and smug at having made you cum like that.

"What a beautiful princess, you're perfect when you come." He whispered sensuously in your ear, kissing all over your face straight after.

You were speechless, your breathing heavy and fast, your mind even messier than before. At this point you didn't want to think about right or wrong, your mind was in a whirlwind of pleasure.

As soon as he saw you calm down from your high, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you like a princess. He couldn't stand it any longer, his cock hard and throbbing in his pants, he had to take you.

And of course he would do it in your bed, you would be his in your bed. As if you were husband and wife. He already knew the way to your bedroom, and gently laid you down on the bed, letting you sink into the soft mattress.

"My beautiful wife, you're going to welcome me like the perfect wife you are, aren't you?" A low purr in your ear, his fingers reaching down to undo his belt.

You nod, sitting down on the bed and helping him out of his uniform. As he took off his pants, you unbuttoned his shirt, kissing and licking all over his chest.

Low moans and gasps came from his lips, he reached for your hair and began to stroke you, encouraging you to continue. You were so perfect in his eyes, you needed to be his, if only for one night.

In the excitement of the moment, he pulled down his pants along with his boxers, letting his cock pop out, a mischievous smile on his lips, you would be his.

As he had so long hoped.

He holds you by the shoulders and pushes you onto the bed once more, letting you snuggle into the sheets.

As he watched you spread your legs, he mounted you, giving the perfect view of his shapely body. Every muscle twitching as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you even wider. He had the perfect view, you there all vulnerable for him, slit wet and clamoring for him.

And so he did, he pumped his cock and brushed your entrance, teasing you.

You whimpered, pushing your hips against the head of his cock, wanting him to do what he had to do right away.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and he pushes his cock all the way into you at once, making a quiet slapping sound.

"Fucking tight." He grunts in your ear, starting with calm, slow thrusts, giving you a slow, romantic kiss.

Savoring your taste as he passionately fucked you. Even if it wasn't true, for tonight you would be his woman. His alone, made for him, all his.

"Such a beautiful wife." He murmurs during the kiss, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, his skin colliding against yours.

"My beautiful husband." You say in a whimper, the words sliding out of your mouth as if it were the purest truth.

Perhaps you only spoke in the heat of the moment, or perhaps deep down you wanted it to be true.

He bites his lip, pushing your thighs further into the mattress, moving his hips at an incredibly fast speed, he couldn't hold back any longer, he needed it. Just like you.

"I'm going to come inside you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?" He growls at you, squeezing your thighs tightly.

"Y-yes, yes please." You plead, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you arch your body towards him, your nails digging into the sheets.

"Good, fucking good girl." He whispers, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in once more.

You both moan loudly at the sensation, your velvety, tight walls embracing him, pulling him in. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you, he was close, and he couldn't wait to fill you with his big, full load.

He was focused on giving you the most pleasure he could give, just to make sure you didn't forget him, and if he was lucky you could call him one more time.

And he didn't mind being your lover at all, there was no denying that he was very fond of the idea.

At that point, your moans filled the room, surely the neighbors next door could hear what was going on if they listened closely.

Not that you cared much about it, the swearing and sweet talk that escaped his lips, too lost in the moment to think about anything else.

His cock slid in and out of you, making the impure sound of bodies colliding, and Leon was closer to the edge, he wasn't going to hold back any longer.

"Close, Ah-, close," you moaned loudly, writhing and arching your body impatiently. You felt your orgasm building, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him.

He kisses your cheeks softly, whispering to you, "Me too, princess. Let's cum together, yeah? Be good for me, together."

With a loud moan you confirm, he increases the pace and puts the weight of his body on you, moaning and grunting in your ear. The thrusts were strong and deep, he made a point of hitting all your spots and making you see stars every time.

"Fuck - I'm cumming," he growls, his nails digging into your thighs, leaving light marks.

That was the last straw for you to reach your limit, your walls spasming on his cock, his white cream spurting into you. He came so much, so much that he hadn't realized the last time he'd felt this good.

"Good, fucking good." He murmurs, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, still moving slowly inside you.

His hands leave your thighs and find your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours.

"I want you, only you." He whispers against your mouth, kissing all over your face.

You bite your lip and stare at him, tempted to repeat the same sentence he's just said. Maybe it's selfish of you to want him all to yourself, when you couldn't do the same.

You couldn't promise to be his alone, and quite possibly you'd have to be husband and wife in secret. Not that it was a bad idea, even if it meant breaking a few hearts.

It wasn't long before he started kissing your neck, sucking lightly. He wanted to claim you again and again, for tonight you would be his alone. And he would make sure to mark you properly.

His fingers still wrapped around yours, as he whispered sweet nothings to you. You certainly wouldn't get out of that bed tonight, he wouldn't let you.

You would be two lovers in love, parting the next day. And looking forward to the next time. Regardless, the night would be memorable.

It would be a hell of a night.

[finnsbubblegum]

I Don’t Deserve You {Part 2} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), stalking, sexual assault attempt (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Words count: 2.9k 

A/N: This is part 2 for I Don’t Deserve You Part 1. Thank you to everyone who read my fanfic! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

It was a usual Monday after the night Joel saved you from Josh. You woke up early and got ready to work and meet your students. 

“Good morning, kids! How was your weekend?” You asked the students with a soft tone.

“I watched a movie with my dad last night!” A girl shouted.

“It was my birthday yesterday!” Another girl shouted.

They were active and you were always happy to listen to their stories. Their stories were always interesting to you. You loved how children were so pure and innocent. 

“Oh really? Well, happy birthday to you! Why don’t we all sing happy birthday to Samantha?” 

You invited the other students to sing the Happy Birthday song for Samantha. Each of the students followed your clap and sang the Happy Birthday song together. The day went and it was already time for the class to be dismissed. 

“Okay everyone! Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!”

Everyone was packing their bags hurriedly and you glanced at the door. The door had a rectangle transparent glass and you saw Joel. When he caught your eye, he quickly hid. You found him so cute and felt butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were in your teenage years all over again. You shook your head and smiled. The kids were starting to leave one by one and you began to pack your stuff on the table. 

“I saw you there Joel.” You teased Joel who was still hiding.

“Uhm.. Sorry.” He slowly walked inside the class and cleared his throat.

“You caught me.” He smiled shyly and put his hand on the nape of his neck.

“Are you stalking me now?” You joked.

“Absolutely not. I was just around and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re teaching the kids. Hope you didn’t teach them curse words.” He joked remembering his last joke at the bar that was cut off by Josh’s appearance.

“Of course not.” You scoffed and slightly hit his chest. 

“Are you heading home now?” Joel put his hands on his waist.

“Yes, all the kids have gone home so I should go home now.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Joel gestured a movement from his hands as if he was asking you to follow him.

“Sure. Thank you.” You grabbed your purse and jacket.

Joel wasn’t actually around the area. He was not patrolling that day and couldn’t keep thinking about last night. He was worried that Josh might come to you and bother you again. After thinking about it for a few hours, he decided to visit you at school and walk you home. He thought that it was the least thing he could do to protect you. Without realizing it, he was starting to have feelings towards you. 

“Do you want to come in and have dinner with me tonight? I can cook something for us.” You hoped Joel would say yes before you got in your house.

“Sure. Ellie is making friends now so she often stays out late.” 

“Great. Come in.” You welcomed Joel.

You hung your jacket and Joel did the same. 

“Please make yourself at home while I cook dinner.” You smiled at Joel.

Joel nodded and sat on the sofa in your living room. You walked to your kitchen, opened your fridge and took out some ingredients. 

“Can I help you with somethin’?” Joel suddenly stood up and walked towards you.

“No, no. I’m good. Let me serve you dinner tonight.” Joel was your guest so you wanted to serve him.

“Okay.” Joel walked away and started to look around your house.

“You have a lot of books.” Joel stopped at your bookshelf.

“Oh, yes. I love to read. I’m a teacher.” You laughed.

“Right.” Joel chuckled.

After a few moments of banter while you were preparing dinner, you were finally done.

“Dinner’s ready.” You called for Joel.

He looked back from the sofa and hurried his way to the dining table.

“Smells good.” He sniffed.

You both started eating. You were nervous because you were scared Joel might not like your cooking. And your legs were shaking under the table.

“Hmm.. It’s delicious. Thank you.” Joel praised your food.

“Phew.. I was scared you didn’t like it.” You sighed.

“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve ever had in the past 20 years.” He chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of your cooking.

“Thank you, Joel. You’re really sweet.” You were touched hearing his words.

The two of you had conversations as you finished your dinner. 

“Let me wash the dishes. You cooked so I will wash the dishes.” Joel offered.

“Sure.” You gave your dishes to Joel.

You watched him from behind and got lost in your fantasy. You were imagining a life where you and Joel lived under the same roof as family. And you were the wife making dinner for your husband when he got off from work. He looked dashing from behind and his shoulder was broad. You imagined how it would feel kissing him. But you didn’t want to rush so you had to hold yourself. You hit your head and got back to reality. 

“Done.” Joel wiped his hands with a towel.

“Thank you, Joel. For washing the dishes.” 

“It’s nothin’. You cooked for me so it’s fair if I wash the dishes.” He shook his head.

You wondered how a man like him treated you so nice. You kept wondering why he didn’t come into your life sooner. Then you remembered why. You were half his age. But you didn’t care. As long as he made you happy, you didn’t care about anything.

You and Joel spent a few hours hanging out at your house then it was time for him to go home.

“I should probably head home.” Joel looked at you.

“Yeah, sure. Thank you for walking me home today.”

“Anytime. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” Joel thanked you.

You chuckled as you walked him to your door and grabbed his jacket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” You waved your hand goodbye to Joel.

The next day, Joel came and picked you up from work. He walked you home and had dinner with you for the second day, third day, fourth day, and it went on and on. Except when it was his turn to go on patrol, he couldn’t walk you home. But he would always tell you in advance if he couldn’t walk you home. 

Joel and you often hung out in the city as well. Since you got close with Joel, Josh had never shown up. He just stared at you from afar but he had never approached you. You even had less guys flirting with you. As time went by, people were starting to recognize your relationship with him. People were making rumors and talking about you and Joel. They were talking about how far your age gap was and how Joel didn’t deserve you. He was old and ruthless but you were young and kind. You didn’t care what anyone said. Joel had never hurt you, he was always respectful, he was definitely not like what other people said. As a matter of fact, Joel had never been kind to anyone but you. 

Your feelings towards Joel have grown deeper and deeper. On the other side, you had no idea how Joel felt towards you. Did he like you or did he just see you as a kid who needed protection? But you didn’t want this to end so you kept your feelings hidden until it was 2 months since you and Joel spent time together. You couldn’t hold your feelings hidden any longer.

It was another usual dinner with Joel. You watched him as he was walking outside your front porch. 

“Joel.” You stopped him before he walked his way home.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked back.

“Can I ask you something?” You wiped your sweaty hands to your jeans.

“Sure. What is it?” He walked his way back to your porch where you were standing, resting his hands on the handrail.

“What are we, Joel? I mean - I - I like you, Joel.” You confessed your feelings to Joel and stepped closer to him.

Instead of telling you the way he felt about you, he took a step back. 

“No.” His voice was really low, he shook his head and looked down.

Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel quickly walked away from you.

“Joel.. Please..” You tried to stop him but you thought it was better to stay.

You were heartbroken. You went to your bedroom, covered your face with your pillow and cried all night.

On his way home, Joel was also heartbroken. He couldn’t see you cry like that, especially because of him. He regretted leaving you hanging like that. He wished he could hug you and comfort you. But he knew he shouldn’t. He had heard the rumors and he agreed to what people were saying. He regretted treating you nice if it would end up breaking your heart. He shouldn’t give you hope in the first place. Since then, Joel started avoiding you. He didn’t walk you home and didn’t have dinner with you. You and Joel ended just like that.

You hadn’t seen Joel since. Your days went so slow. Days felt weeks, weeks felt months, months felt years. It has been a month and you hated this feeling. You wanted closure so you decided to find Joel. You walked to his house and knocked on his door.

“Hi!” It was Ellie.

“Uhm.. Hi! Is Joel home?” You asked Ellie.

“Yeah! Joel! Someone’s here looking for you!” Ellie shouted and called Joel.

Joel made his way down stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you at his front door.

“We need to talk, please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel gestured to Ellie to go, he closed the door and invited you to sit on the patio chairs at his front porch.

You sat with him but he didn’t say anything. So you started the conversation.

“Did I do something wrong, Joel?” You tried to find what was wrong to fix your relationship with him.

“No.” He replied coldly.

“It’s okay. Just tell me, Joel. Let me fix us.” You begged him.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Joel wanted the best for you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. What do you mean?” You were confused.

“I know you heard about the rumors. They were right. I don’t deserve you. I’m old. I’ve done bad things. I’ve killed people. And you’re young, beautiful…inside out, kind, perfect and everythin’. You deserve someone way better than me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started anythin’ with you. I realized I was crossin’ the line, that's why it’s better that I stopped before I hurt you more.” Joel put his elbow on his knees as he explained to you.

“That’s not right. I don’t care what people say, Joel. You treated me so nice. You’ve never hurt me. You protect me, Joel.” You shook your head in denial.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve you.” Joel started to raise his voice.

“No, Joel. Please. Give me a chance. I can’t live without you. Please. Give us a chance.” You cried as you begged him.

Joel wanted to cry but he held it. He didn’t want to look weak. Instead he stood up and asked you to leave. 

“I promise I won’t see you again.” Joel’s words made your heart even wretched.

“Joel, please..don’t..Can you at least give me a hug as a goodbye? Please?” You grabbed his wrist.

Joel wanted to hug you. He really did. But it would just make him change his mind. If he hugged you, he might not be able to let you go. So he let go of your hand and walked inside his house. You cried so loud and kneeled in front of his door. Hoping for Joel to come out and change his mind, but a few hours went by and he didn’t appear. You were getting hopeless so you decided to go home. You cried on your walk and you didn’t realize someone was following you. You grabbed your keys and went inside your house. Someone was holding your door before you closed it. 

“Joel?” You hoped Joel was following you home.

“Nuh-uh baby. It’s me. Josh.” Josh smirked.

You gasped and started to shake. 

“Wh-what are you do-doing?” Josh could hear you were scared.

“I told you that old man is no good, baby. You should have been with me in the first place. I wouldn’t make you cry. I’m way better than him. That old man knows it. He really doesn’t deserve you. But I deserve you.” It turned out that Josh had been stalking you and he was eavesdropping your conversation with Joel.

“No. Josh. Please get out of my house.” You tried to act like you were not scared but he could see you were shaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re mine now.” Josh claimed you as his because he knew Joel wouldn’t be there to protect you from him anymore.

“No, please go.” You walked backwards as he slowly walked towards you.

On the other side, Joel kept thinking about what he had said to you. He knew it was for the best but somehow he felt something weird in his heart. He guessed maybe he should have hugged you goodbye. He didn’t hear your cries anymore so he decided to walk to your house. He saw your door was left open and he heard a loud thud and your scream. Joel’s heart was beating faster as he rushed inside your house.

“Stay still!” Josh was on top of you, holding your hands, trying to take off your pants.

“Josh, stop it!” You tried to push Josh away but he was too heavy.

Joel’s eyes widened as he was shocked to see what was happening. He ran towards you, grabbed Josh from behind and threw him aside. Josh was hurting laying on the floor. Joel’s eyes locked on Josh and punched him over and over again. Josh’s face was full of blood and he was begging for Joel to stop. 

“Don’t you ever touch her again! You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break your arm!” Joel lifted Josh by his collar and yelled at his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Josh begged Joel for his life.

“Now get the fuck out of this house and never show your face again!” Joel pointed his finger towards the door as he raised his voice again.

Joel closed the door after Josh crawled his way out of your house. You were in shock, crying, hyperventilating, shaking, and holding your ripped shirt to cover yourself. You had never seen Joel like this before. He was scary when he was angry just like what other people in the town talked about.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice was different from seconds ago.

He sounded very soft. He took off his jacket and put it on you. 

“I got you, babygirl. I got you.” He looked at you with worried eyes. (TLOU ep 8 reference 😘)

He wiped your tears with his thumb and hugged you. His hands rubbed your back in circles until your breathing was normal again. 

“Can you stand?” He asked you.

You nodded and guided him to your bedroom. He kept holding your arm, holding your weight as you walked. You opened your closet to get new clothes and changed into a new one. Joel faced the wall as you changed your clothes. He was always respectful to you. Not like the other guys you had met.

“Here.” You gave Joel his jacket back.

“Do you want me to stay?” He thought he would stay for the night to make sure you were safe.

“Will you?” You asked Joel with your puppy eyes as you sat on the bed.

“Of course, darlin’. I don’t want Josh to come here again and hurt you.” Joel walked to your bedroom door.

“Where are you going? I thought you’re staying.” You were confused.

“I am. I’m sleepin’ on the couch.” 

You chuckled. Everytime he did or said something, you fell in love with him more.

“Joel, stay here.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed.

“No. I shouldn’t.” He still kept his chivalry.

“Joel, please. I don’t think I can sleep if you’re not next to me. I feel safe when I’m with you. Please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel shyly moved his way to your bed and laid beside you.

You moved closer to him, put your head on his chest, and rested your hands on his stomach. You could hear his heart beating faster and his body was stiff because of your movements. Joel took a deep breath and put his arms around you. He rubbed your back in circles.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you. But can I get that chance for our relationship? Give me a chance to be better for you?” He rested his chin on your head.

“You should stop being insecure, Joel. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. All the guys who flirted with me.. They weren't like you. I know for a fact they only want to get in my pants. But you’re different. Am I right?” You caressed his chest.

“No. You’re wrong.” You were shocked by his joke and raised your head to face him.

“I’m joking. Relax.” He laughed.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You put your head back to his chest and hit his chest.

“Oh! You’re bleeding! We need to get your fist cleaned up!” You took his hands worriedly.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve been worse.” Joel chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Okay, then.” You kissed his bleeding fist that saved you from Josh. 

The two of you spent the night cuddling, talking and getting to know each other. Joel told you about his past, Sarah, and Ellie as you drift into your sleep. 

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[sgiandubh]

Last minute Swifties

Contrary to what many thought and some posted, I do think the OL cast's Taylor Swift experience was a last minute promo idea, very much monitored by *** and Tall Ships. I was wrong about minder/security guy (still, eerie...) and I never have a problem publicly admitting it. But quite unlikely I am wrong about this one. And sorry for the length, but you know how I am when I am looking for something, right?

Let's unpack: cast thanked the 'organizers' (and minders, really) in very specific terms, leaving NO much doubt:

Louisa McCulloch. Remember this name, we shall meet her in one hot minute. So thank you Louisa and Maril for organizing this: ask yourselves why did Maril, who (as far as I know) is based in the US, have to come to Edinburgh just for the gig. Damage control, perhaps?

And Sophie S., with a remarkable choice of words:

'Thank you ***, TS and her team for making it happen'. In my book, this means a strong, common effort to secure the box last minute. Because 'making it happen' means exactly that: 'need to do everything you can to facilitate it'.

Clearly Skelton, who is a Swiftie in her own right, was particularly appreciative of the efforts it took to ensure everyone could attend the concert. If that were a long planned event, her enthusiasm would have been more temperate, I think. 'Adding more Swifties to the clan' - LOL, Sophie, you mean S and C had no idea of the lyrics and were unable to sing along with you, John Bell, Izzy and Co (I keep forgetting their names and I like them a lot, in the show)? People of my generation are already too damn old for Taylor S. And this different sort of music might be more of S's real preference: otherwise why post it in his stories, as if to say ' TS is a different thing altogether'?

James. A Manchester rock band, formed in 1982, popular in the Nineties. I see no lies: he was clear 'JAMMF is a Swiftie'. And we are, after all, Children of the Nineties, not TS's crowd. And yes, I knew S was into the same kind of music as I was, in the Nineties (he seems to have stayed put, right there, unlike me, LOL):

Anyways, back to the mysterious woman up and front on three pictures in a row, that got many speculating. Nope, that was not Wendy, the MUA and S's bestie:

Once...

... Twice...

... Three times a lady:

Her name is Louisa McCulloch, née Radcliffe and she is the one S thanked, along with Maril (see above). It was a bit hard finding her, because her IG account is private. But I found her alright on Facebook, and then LinkedIn (of course):

Based in Lockerbie, Scotland. 20 years experience as a media publicist:

Worked with *** and Tall Ships since Season 3, after a short stint as Head of Publicity at the Paramount Pictures London Office. Got promoted from Unit Publicist to Publicist during COVID, for Season 6. So yes, she is the one who made it happen, locally, on what I think was a quite short notice.

Attention successfully diverted. Impeccable timing and giving a younger crowd what it wants. Trying to capitalize on TS's huge Instagram fan base: 283 million followers (wow! I had no fucking idea she was so huge). A win-win situation for just about everyone and an elegant way out from sordid waters:

And it worked. Lost among the hundred of thousands of likes and comments, look who's jumping on the bandwagon:

Sharon Stone. With a Blue Check and her 3.9 million Instagram fanbase. A Nineties deity, need I remind you (this blogger spotted her during the Berlinale 2007, while I was going out for drinks, blissfully unaware we were all staying at The Adlon, LOL)?

They mutually follow each other on Insta, by the way. I wonder why *urv did not pounce on that one. I feel robbed, for once, of a wonderful fanfic.

[Later edit] Several comments take on this person without a proper justification. I am editing this post to remind you she is only responsible for the implementation (in Scotland) of decisions taken elsewhere (in the United States of America). She is NOT a decision maker and as Publicist, was probably responsible for the local implementation of a hasty decision to attend an event (secure VIP box at Murrayfield, sell content to the local press). The direct contact with TS's team was, very likely, Maril and upwards, in the hierarchy. In all fairness, she has nothing to do with a billboard spotted in Los Angeles, USA - nothing of the sort in Europe. I am all for taxing, but let's tax people who are really RESPONSIBLE: she is just a very well paid underling. Thank you all, I am sure you understand fairness can only add to our credibility as a group.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Not sure if you're still active, but here's a 'prompt':

Maribat, but without the wish-fulfillment:

The bats-family comes to Paris, and the usual Maribat stuff happens. Shadowmoth is found, Lila gets revealed, Marinette gets to castigate her friends to the bone beofre dimissing them as vile people beneath her notice and Adrien gets summarily replaced because Plagg's Miraculous is apparently Ladybug's engagement ring and Damian is "just better". To top it all off, Marinette is taken under Batman's wing, and without an active threat in Paris leaves for Gotham.

It's not what she expected.

She realises the true depths of human cruelty without the insanity of Akumatisation to hide behind,

She gets to learn what it's like to be the last person to know plans because SHE'S not the one calling the shots anymore, indeed: she's the most junior person int eh chain of command. She's the one who has to shut and obey when push come to shove, and get excluded from decisions that effect her and information that she should have but Batman keeps locked up under "need to know". And she's not on the list.

Because why would she be? She was the child who struggled to find Shadowmoth while she had a box of magical superweapons- including one that could give her any power she asked of it- when it took Batman his Robins maybe a week at most to do the same with conventional methods.

She even finds out that Batman has a dozen contingencies in place to take the box and Miraculous from her if she goes rogue. Based on information he's accumulated from her while she spent time under his roof and trained to impress him.

Oh, and to add salt to the wound: Damian makes it clear that he doesn't consider her his equal. Guardian or not. Certainly not someone he's going to take orders from, or someone he's interested in romantically for that matter. It takes more than a reasonably attractive face and talent for magical devices to interest Damian Wayne; and beyond those things what's exceptional about Marinette Dupain-Cheng compared to the other potential love interests he already had?

Did it occur to her that he might already be in a relationship before she gave him the ring? Because it seems like she's committing the same sin that Adrien Agreste once did in assuming the bearers of Destruction and Creation have some special destiny to be together.

(Adrien could tell her how that works out).

So now Marinette's stuck in a new, far less friendly city, speaking a foreign language and in a home filled with strangers she impulsively threw her old life away to be with. And she has to live with it because of how she burned her bridges.

Great Post! You put a lot of thought into the prompt, and the idea of Ladybug being brought into a situation where she's way in over her head and not instantly the main person in charge (just because she holds a powerful set of magical earrings) actually sounds great! Though that itself could be its own fanfic idea.

I myself am not personally fond of the Maribat part of the fandom or the idea of even mentioning it, given that it and the the idea of Marinette and Damian ever being a thing represents everything bad about the salty part of the fandom, especially from people who likely never read any actual DC comic involving Damian.

However, I do appreciate how you deconstructed the idea of not only Damian instantly being Marinette's love interest, but also how Marinette meeting the Batfamily would instantly make her part of it or even their favorite, since neither of those would likely ever happen given the dark and gritty nature of Batman comics contrasting with the light and generally perfect world of Miraculous.

I mean, the idea of Marinette relating in any way to the BatFam would be ridiculous in canon, considering her generally perfect and happy family life in comparison to everyone in the BatFam differing flavors of trauma. By comparison, Lila being a bitch or her friends not believing her seems mundane by comparison.

Anyways, love the post!

[allastoredeer]

Would you have any bottom Alastor fanfics to suggest? Ever since I came across your blog I’ve been hyper fixated on that idea but I can’t seem to find any

Surely!

I only just realized I have a total of 15 Hazbin fics bookmarked on AO3 😅 but I have a lot in my "Marked for Later" tab, and I'm sure I'll come across more bottom!Alastor fics there when I get around to going through it.

Of course, look over the tags before reading these fics, some of them are more explicit than others.

Here are the ones I've read and enjoyed:

Unhealthy Attachments by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)

Lucifer never thought to ask before what Alastor got out of having sex with him. Probably won't regret asking, right?

Right?

(Post Season Finale)

<><>

A Failure of Business Negotiation by Drowsy_Salamander (RadioStatic)

It began, as many things did for Alastor, out of curiosity. A tryst with Vox to decide whether sex was worth the hype, a neat and simple dynamic on Alastor's end. However, Vox clearly developed other ideas about what was going on and thus proceeded to utterly ruin everything between them by proposing a formal alliance.

... Alternatively: how Vox and Alastor became exes without ever dating

(NOTE: The smut is more alluded to than explicitly written, but I really enjoyed a deep dive into Alastor's brain and his thoughts surrounding sex. It was very enjoyable to read).

<><><>

601 by ChildishSadism (RadioStatic)

Humans aren't aware that the dark desires in their hearts give demons a clear path to earth. A soul in hell can be tasty but a pure soul from the human world was a delicacy that many demons fought for. Vox enjoyed indulging in this pleasure once in a while, it made his teeth feel sharper and his claws deathlier.

It was such a shame that maybe, he should have kept an eye around in case someone else was ready to steal his meal.

or Vox possesses a priest to try to harvest more souls and Alastor possesses a nun to steal his catch.

(REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS)

<><><>

Lucifer and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)

(NOTE: This one is actually a series. I haven't finished it yet, but it has a lot of yummy bottom!Alastor content)

<><><>

Time to Dance by voland_xx (RadioStatic)

Building a time machine is never a good idea, especially when you’re in Hell.

Sir Pentious’s newest “invention” shocks the residents of Hazbin Hotel (+1) back into their human forms. Alastor and Vox navigate this new adjustment.

or, a demon gets voraciously, hungrily obsessed with a pretty man. What’s new.

<><><>

A Poison for Lust by MatcHoMetriC (Alestial - Alastor x Zestial)

Zestial & Alastor do some 'experimentation' on how the Vee's love potion actually works

<><><>

These are all the ones I have right now, but I'm sure I have a more squirreled away in my Marked for Later tab. If you're looking for more bottom!Alastor I definitely recommend looking through the bottom!Alastor tag! <- I actually just barely glanced through it and found one that looks very interesting, this is this one, if anyone is interested:

Devil's Threeway by Mixkarules18

All Alastor was trying to do was fetch Lucifer for Charlie. It was simple, nothing should have come from it.

However, the Overlord sees something that no one else was meant to and Lucifer decides to have a little fun with him.

Or alternatively:

Two Lucifer’s, one hole

(Tell me that doesn't sound like a fantastic read! I'll be sitting down to give it a looksie right after I post this LOL)

If anyone else has a bottom!Alastor fics they'd like to recommend, send them my way! I have a mighty need

[bekolxeram]

Unfortunately, I don't have the means to donate this time, (Stupid expensive health issues🙄) but I'd still like to express my gratitude to Bucktommy and this fandom for the occasion.

Not that my life has ever been sunshine and rainbows, but 2024 has been particularly difficult for me. I started the year the sickest I've been for years, then one of my uncles passed away in February. He was 88. He had been slowly succumbing to dementia for quite some time, so almost everyone agreed a cardiac arrest was a blessing in disguise.

I wasn't close with him, but my mother was, and naturally, I had to spend pretty much the entire March accompanying her to all sorts of traditional ceremonies for the dead. All my uncle's children, my cousins, came back from abroad as well. They enjoyed hanging out with me back when I was a toddler, but then I slowly grew up into this weird, moody kid of few words, and we kind of drifted apart from there.

Family reunions were never awkward despite my gloomy existence though, they had their fun aunt who never ran out of things to talk about. To them, my mother's the life of the party and an exemplary woman, who went through tragedies in life but still manages to come out stronger on the other side, who unfortunately had to re-enter the workforce later in life to support her physically ill husband and her mentally ill teenage daughter.

What they don't know, is that while she's a fun aunt, she's not a fun mother. She was dealing with the stress and frustration so well because she always had an outlet at home. Someone she had total ownership over, officialized by a piece of birth certificate. Someone she could do whatever she'd like to, emotionally and physically, because in my culture, it's simply an alternative, maybe outdated method of parenting, not a crime.

I've had time to process my messy relationship with my mother, I've come to (mostly) accept it for what it is. Watching my cousins all rushing over to my mother with open arms to console her, watching my cousins' children playing around, having fun with her, while my existence was barely acknowledged, was actually more triggering than I expected. It acted as a sobering reminding that not only do I have merely a handful of friends since I left church, I in fact don't have any family left either. They're all my mother's family, not mine.

It was probably the most lonely and isolating experience in my life. It's like I was trapped inside of my head, my head that was gradually turning into a bottomless pit of nothingness.

Then Tommy Kinard drove through cross town traffic just to clear the air in person. He expressed how much he wanted to be a part of a family. Then he took his shot and got the boy in the end.

I just felt... understood. Watching Bucktommy's story play out on screen gave me some rare moments of joy and much needed hope. I felt like if Tommy could find happiness later in life, maybe it wasn't too late for me either.

If you've had experience with depression, you'd know how sometimes getting out of bed, brushing your teeth feels like an uphill battle already. Motivation is precious and hard to come by. I was so motivated creatively by Bucktommy and people in the fandom who resonated with the story just like me, that I wrote series of posts analyzing every scene in S7, I learned how to make gifs to illustrate the humor I found in all of us, I figured out how to edit video especially for my vision of a Brad-nado, I even wrote and posted my first fanfic ever.

And I just love how we refuse to give up hope, even after the breakup. We cried, we whined, then we doubled our effort writing fix-it fics, continuing their story on our own terms. Now, we even manage to raise thousands of dollars for charities in 24 hours in the name of love.

Sorry for the wall of text all about myself, I hope I don't come across as a self-absorbed jerk. I always thought I would never make it to 30, it started feeling like a real possibility in March. What happened instead was that my 30th birthday came and go because I was too busy screaming about Buck batting his eyelashes at Tommy when he was receiving a medal.

I'm sitting here, typing this out, looking back at my 2024 at the end of the year, only because Bucktommy happened and I had the pleasure to cross path with you all. I know, it's stupid, it's just a TV show, but I can't really imagine how my life would turn out if I never had Bucktommy, where I would be right, or even if I would still be at all.

So, thank you, for making life worth living for me again.

[kitchenlittle]

I want to make a little PSA and warning about future content being posted to my page very soon. I will not stand for the slander of writers who choose to write about Miles Morales due to popularity of the movies. Let me make something clear since it seems there are many fake Marvel Fans out there who know nothing about the universes. THERE ARE UNIVERSES WHERE MILES IS ALREADY AN ADULT.

Earth-8 comes to mind where Miles is LITTERALY a full grown MAN MARRIED TO GWEN STACY and they have 2 CHILDREN TOGETHER. Their names are Charlotte and Max Morales. LOOK IT UP IF YOU DONT BELIEVE.

Every universe has a differing age/look from the Miles Morales we see in the movies and know why? BECAUSE THERE IS DARN NEAR THOUSAND IF NOT INFINITE universes of Miles. SO YES. There is a universe with events just like the movie with slight differences and Miles over the age of 18. So litteraly any story about about Miles would litteraly be cannon in someway!

Just like how we can have a Adult Peter Parkers like in the movie exist at the same time as underage Peter Parkers like Tom Holland's. Or should I say," -Dr. Strange and the little nerd on Earth 199999 (AKA Tom Holland)"~Miguel O'hara. And if you were paying attention to the movies you'd know that Miles cannonly exist in live-action human form. Uncle Aaron played by musician and actor childish gamebino mentions he has a nephew who wants to protect to Spiderman. You see that same prowler Childish Gambino Uncle Aaron captured in the new movie. He was captured by Hobie Brown and locked uo as anamoly needing to be sent back to his universe. Meaning that Adult Miles can exist at the same time as kid Miles!

NOT ONLY THAT. But here is some hyprocracy I have found. THE ANIME FANDOM. The most popular characters in the anime are 15- 16. FROM Deku and Bakugou FROM MY HERO, to Luffy FROM ONEPEICE, to Sukuna/Yuji from JUJITSU KAISEN and many many more. Most main characters are highschool age. HOW IS IT? That they can age up charecter that alot of times we will never see 18 or older and write a fanfic sometimes while the charecter in the story is still 15-16 and get a away with it. But Miles Morales authors go out their way to age him up before they even write it and litteraly aren't wrong since their are universe where he is older, are weirdos and pe***. I don't see some anime writers doing that? Make it make sense?

I PERSONALLY DONT EVEN WRITE FOR FOR CHARECTERS THAT DONT HAVE A CANON ADULT VERSION OF THEM AVAILABLE FROM THE OG CREATORS IN MEDIA. Guess who fits the criteria? MILES MORALES.

A message for my unsure authors out there.

~So for all my writers not their scared to post their fics. Label it Earth-8 Miles who is a father and husband to Gwen and say it's a headcannon of what ps happend he's 18-25 before he got married if you feel that weird about it.

Some of ya'll are fake fans who completely missed the point of the movie and it's implications. Don't come in my DMs telling me to take anything down because I'm not. You will be blocked and locked out of interacting with my page. And if you feel uncomfortable block me. Just know if you block you will be missing out of 50+ fics I've been working on 18+ characters for about a year now and will be posting starting in July. It's littersly an event I've been working on called the 'Lemon Fest', since it's my birthday month.

Once again every charcter I write about had a cannon adult version of them made by the creators or is already an adult. I was going to keep this a secret by I've gotta protect my fellow authors especially if they are being wrongly targeted. Wanna get mad? Wanna get angry at some authors? Get mad at the ones the ones that write about you favorite anime charecters that are likely 15-16 then ask them to delete it...oh wait...you won't.. because if done that would litteraly be deleting 3/4 of the fanfiction written on this site.

[blizzardheart12]

Descendants 4 headcanon/theory || the Hook family

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking ever since I first watched Rise of Red, and I mean a lot. In recent days, that old middle school mystery I used to ponder about who the Hook childrens’ mother is has come back to haunt me once again. So, after a lot of reliving my past Descendants obsession (and a fair amount of fanfic reading), I came up with this theory— it’s really just headcanons— about Harriet, Harry, CJ, and Red’s parentage. Let me know what you think! This is the first time I’ve actually posted something on Tumblr so we’ll see how this goes lol.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Captain James Hook and Bridget, the Queen of Hearts

Harriet Hook’s mother is the Queen of Hearts. Harriet and her fraternal twin sister, Red (bear with me), were born shortly after the creation of the Isle of the Lost. During this time, James lived in Wonderland with Bridget and helped command her army while she ruled the kingdom, thus avoiding imprisonment on the Isle. James, who had a passion for traveling, often left to visit with his crew and other villainous friends there by permission of Auradon, which sparked jealousy in Bridget, unbeknownst to him.

When Auradon Kingdom informed the Kingdom of Wonderland that the doorway between their worlds would soon be sealed for good, a massive argument ensued between Bridget and James. James wanted to leave Wonderland and live on the Isle with his crew mates and friends, and he wanted Bridget and the twins to come with him. Bridget was adamant on keeping her throne, however, and she forbid James from setting foot outside of Wonderland. After some time, it became clear that their relationship was over, and Bridget could no longer stand keeping James imprisoned in her territory.

They made a heartfelt agreement that they would part ways, and James left to go live on the Isle, taking Harriet with him. This separation caused the Queen of Hearts to turn extremely bitter, and she never told Red about her sister or father. Because time passes at a slower rate in Wonderland than it does everywhere else, Red aged much more slowly than her sister, so much so that by the time she began to attend Auradon Prep, she was younger than CJ, the youngest of James’s children. Harriet began to age at a normal rate the second she and her father left for the Isle, and that day is often considered to be her birthday despite her having been alive for nearly two years in Auradon-time (she was physically only a few months old though). As a result, she is essentially two years older than her brother, Harry. Try not to think about it too hard.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Captain James Hook and Sarah Sanderson

Harry and CJ Hook’s mother is Sarah Sanderson. James and Sarah never really had an official relationship, seeing as both quite enjoyed keeping up with their own long lists of love affairs during their time on the Isle. One would say that their blatant disloyalty to each other is what enabled them to get along as well as they did.

It was thought that Sarah maintained a relationship with James not only because he was attractive and a total flirt— not so different from her— but because he reminded her of Billy Butcherson when he was alive, or rather, a version of him from her dreams that boasted a much more unruly personality. Similarly, James found himself drawn to Sarah not just because of her beauty and flirtatiousness, but because she reminded him of Bridget, or rather, a version of her from his dreams where she was still sweet and playful and wasn’t totally blinded by her power.

It should also be mentioned that their relationship lasted a while because without access to magic, Sarah (and her sisters) couldn’t cause James any real harm as that is what usually happened with her unfortunate lovers.

Of the two, James was the better parent. He (mostly meaning his first mate Smee) took sole care of the children since their birth. He was coldest towards Harry yet somehow earned the most admiration from him despite not really warming up to his son until he grew past Peter Pan’s age. Sarah did show a bit of an uncharacteristic affection towards her children when she was with them, but ultimately her loyalty towards her sisters prevailed and she remained rather distant, only visiting with them before full moon rituals (when she didn’t forget, that is). It sounds cold, but she was one of the more caring parents on the Isle, and James was one of the best, personally teaching each of them important skills about survival, fencing, sailing, and literature (Harry never caught on to the reading thing, though, and James didn’t have the patience to make him sit still long enough to teach him).

Winnifred and Mary only knew of Harry’s existence. This is because Sarah is an awful liar and did not do a good job of hiding her pregnancy. Winnie was furious when she discovered this, but because there was no magic on the Isle, she couldn’t do much about it. When the baby turned out to be a boy, she began crafting a plan to get rid of him, but Sarah told this to James in secret and he had his crew steal back the child.

Sarah’s visits with James frequently became more prolonged after that, to the point where her spending months away at a time with him—expecting their daughter— hardly phased her two sisters (they thought unseriously of her and assumed she was off galavanting around with more lovers or searching for potion ingredients). They never found out about CJ and were pleased to see Sarah return not long after the baby was born.

Harry inherited his parents’ flirtatious (and slightly unhinged) nature. He has his father’s dark hair and his mother’s eyes. CJ has her mother’s blonde hair and her father’s eyes. Harry grew up not caring too much about maintaining a relationship with his mother because he felt offended that she always acted colder towards his sister, Harriet. He didn’t think it was fair that she be neglected of attention because she had a different mother— in his eyes, Sarah was Harriet’s mother as well. CJ, however, took a great interest in witchcraft as she got older and began to seek out Sarah’s company more and more with time.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

So, that was pretty much all of it. Hope you enjoyed reading! Ignore the badly edited photo I made, I just needed something relevant😭

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛