#like i think there may be something really wrong with me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mintyys-blog · 11 hours ago

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Loving all your work you're the bestttttt ❤️. Whenever you finish all your other request I'd like to ask for the aphrodisiac ask but instead of reader, mark and his variants were the ones who took it. Reader would not rest easy I bet lol. Thanks for all your great writing!

HEADCANON | if the variants took a aphrodisiac

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: sexual themes, drugging, breeding kink, swearing

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work, whether AI-generated or otherwise, without my permission.

MAIN MARK

Mark had never considered taking an aphrodisiac before, but when Y/N handed him the bottle, claiming it would “help,” he wasn’t going to question it. She said it was just to make things a little more fun, something lighthearted. What could go wrong?

He downed it with a chuckle, not really thinking much of it, but as the minutes ticked by, he started to feel… off. A heat settled in his chest, and his thoughts became clouded. The rush of warmth spread to his limbs, making him shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Y/N?” he called out, voice a little deeper than usual, and his eyes narrowed, half-lidded. “What the hell did you give me?”

Y/N smirked, watching his reaction as he tried to remain composed. “I thought you wanted to relax a little, babe. What’s the matter? You look a little… flushed.”

Mark’s cheeks burned, and he didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or the growing, undeniable desire that he could feel building in him. His gaze locked onto her, and suddenly, the room felt smaller, as if everything else around him didn’t matter except for her. Every movement she made seemed to intensify the heat he felt in his body.

He stood up abruptly, his movements jerky, his breath coming a little faster than usual. “Y/N… I—what the hell is going on?”

“Why don’t you sit down, Mark?” Y/N said with a playful edge to her voice, a slight tilt of her head as she watched him squirm. “Let’s see how long you can handle it.”

Mark clenched his jaw, trying to hold himself together. “How is this supposed to help me relax? Feels—“

But his voice betrayed him, the low growl in his tone barely masking the frustration and desire that twisted through him. He stepped toward her, slowly at first, then more urgently as the sensation inside of him grew stronger. “Why do I..?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, watching him struggle to control himself. She knew exactly what had happened, and she loved the power it gave her. “I didn’t do anything, Mark. You’re the one who wanted to have fun, right? Guess it worked.”

Mark groaned, pinning his eyes on her as his body was no longer under his control. He felt like his skin was burning with the need to be closer to her, to feel her touch, to feel everything. He was caught between frustration and yearning, and there was no way out. “Y/N, please…” he said, voice strained, eyes begging even as his body betrayed him.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she teased, stepping closer. “I’ll help you out. But you’re going to have to be a good boy for me.”

She knew exactly what she was doing, playing with him, taking her time as she watched him squirm. Mark may have been the superhero, but tonight, he was entirely at her mercy.

SINISTER MARK

Mark’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he felt the strange heat pulse through his veins. He wasn’t sure how to explain the sudden surge of warmth spreading across his chest and down his limbs. It was like a fire that couldn’t be extinguished, and it was rapidly getting worse.

“Y/N…” he muttered, voice low and dangerously calm. “What the hell did you do?”

She looked at him innocently, though a knowing smile played at the corner of her lips. “What do you mean?”

He tried to focus on her, but it was hard when all he could think about was the intensity growing inside him. His hands were starting to shake, his body reacting to the overwhelming sensations.

“I didn’t give you anything,” Y/N said with a casual shrug. “If you’re feeling this way, then I guess you’ve just… had too much fun tonight.”

His patience was wearing thin, and it wasn’t because of her. It was because of himself. His usually cold, controlled demeanor was slipping, his anger barely contained by the simmering heat that was threatening to consume him. He leaned against the wall for support, his breathing shallow as his gaze fixed on her.

“I don’t like being messed with,” he growled, a deep, dangerous edge to his voice. “What the hell is going on?”

Y/N’s smirk deepened. She had seen him go through many things—fights, difficult situations, betrayals—but this was different. This was a crack in his perfect, brutal exterior. The power dynamic had shifted, and she could feel it.

“I told you, Mark, I didn’t do anything. But I think you’re enjoying it,” she teased, stepping closer. The challenge was obvious in her eyes, and her casual, carefree demeanor only made him seethe with frustration. She knew exactly what was happening to him, and she was enjoying every second of it. He narrowed his eyes, and in a flash he was behind her. She gasped, as she felt his chest against her back, his hand wrapped tightly on her throat.

She felt him a poke at her back, confirmation that the drug did work. He suddenly pushed her down to bend over the counter. “Is this what you wanted? You little slut. Getting me all hot and bothered.” She wiggled her ass against his cock, he groaned. Making quick work to pull down her pants; and his own. “Now you can face the consequence of your actions.”

MOHAWK MARK

Mark paced around the room, every step slow and deliberate, like he was trying to keep his mind in check. But there was no denying the growing heat in his body, the tension that seemed to hum under his skin. Something was off—he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, but it was messing with his focus. His gaze shifted to you, watching with an amused, knowing smirk as you leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You’re looking… uncomfortable,” you teased, voice light but laced with something more playful. You could see the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists, how his eyes seemed to darken just a little more with each passing second.

“Don’t start with me, Y/N,” he warned, his tone low and dangerous. His eyes flickered over to you, and you could see the effort it was taking for him to hold himself together.

You simply grinned, uncrossing your arms and stepping toward him. “What’s the matter, Mark? You look like you’re about to explode.”

He huffed, turning away from you to look at the wall, as if that would help him regain some kind of control. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though it was clear he was anything but.

“Sure,” you said with a knowing smirk, taking a step closer. “But you’re also getting pretty… worked up. I can see it. I’m not stupid.”

You walked slowly to him, standing behind him and lightly resting a hand on his back. The heat radiating from his body told you everything you needed to know—he was feeling it, whatever it was, and it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Let me guess,” you continued with a teasing voice. “This has got to be so frustrating, huh? Can’t stop thinking about it, but you can’t do anything about it…”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t act like you know what’s going on inside my head, Y/N.”

“Oh, I do,” you said, stepping closer so you could press against his back, your breath warm against the nape of his neck. “I know you, Mark. You want relief. I can give you relief… if you want it.”

He tensed under your touch, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His eyes flickered to the floor before meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw that flicker of vulnerability—a break in his usual stoic, cool demeanor.

“Don’t mess with me,” he growled, but you could tell he wasn’t fully resisting. He was too far gone in his own need, whatever it was that was tormenting him.

You tilted your head slightly, a sly grin on your face. “I’m not messing with you, Mark,” you said softly. “I’m offering to help.”

There was a pause, the room thick with the tension between you two. He could feel the heat building, both from his own body and from the closeness between you. His thoughts were clouded, his control slipping as the need pulsed through him like a wildfire.

“You think you can handle it?” he finally said, voice low but edged with a challenge.

Without hesitation, you stepped around to his front, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can,” you replied, a wicked glint in your eyes.

He stared down at you, his breath uneven as his usual composure began to break apart, piece by piece. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you,” he warned, the dark, playful edge in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t entirely in control of himself anymore.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied with a smirk.

He didn’t say another word before his hand reached for you, pulling you flush against his chest. “You’re gonna regret offering to help me, Y/N.” You grinned, pressing yourself even closer to him. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

PRISONER MARK

Mark paced back and forth in the room, his mind racing with thoughts that didn’t quite make sense. His body felt like it was on fire, and it wasn’t just the usual heat from his Viltrumite physiology. There was something else—something pulling at him, making him more aware of every sensation, every shift of his muscles, every breath.

His eyes darted to you, and he froze. There was something in the air, an intensity he couldn’t escape. Your casual presence seemed to only make it worse, heightening his already overstimulated senses. You weren’t doing anything—at least, not on purpose—but every time you moved, every time you looked at him, it felt like the heat inside him grew.

“Y/N,” he muttered, trying to force his voice to stay steady. “What the hell is going on?”

You just stood there, arms crossed over your chest, looking cool and calm as usual. But Mark could tell you were watching him, noticing the way his hands clenched, the tension in his jaw. You were more aware of his discomfort than he was willing to admit.

“Nothing,” you said lightly, your tone a little too innocent. “You just seem a little… off. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He wanted to deny it, but the truth was obvious, and the tightness in his chest made it hard to think clearly. “I’m fine,” he gritted out, voice rougher than usual. “It’s nothing.”

But you saw through him. It was obvious to you. There was no way he could hide it—this was far more than a typical bad day. He couldn’t shake the discomfort in his own skin, the itch that wouldn’t be scratched. He was barely holding himself together, and he hated it.

“You sure about that?” you asked, taking a step closer to him. The air between you two felt heavy, thick with something neither of you could ignore. “Because you look like you’re struggling to keep it together.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t even focus on what to say, his gaze locked onto you as if you were the only thing in the world. You weren’t doing anything different, but everything about you seemed to make the heat inside him surge. He could smell you, hear your breath, feel your presence.

“Maybe I could help,” you said, your voice low and slightly teasing. There was a knowing glint in your eyes, and it made his heart rate spike even more.

Mark’s body tensed, and he instinctively took a step back, trying to distance himself. “I don’t need your help,” he snapped, though it came out more desperate than he intended. “I can handle this myself.”

But his words didn’t match the way his hands shook at his sides or the way his breath quickened when you moved closer again.

You raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “You sure about that?”

For a moment, he thought about pushing you away, ignoring the way his body betrayed him. But you were too close now, and there was something in the way you looked at him that made it impossible to deny. His resolve faltered as he found himself unable to look away from you.

“I can help,” you said again, this time more softly. The way you said it made the entire room feel like it was closing in, like the air was getting heavier by the second.

He bit back a groan, trying to maintain control, but his body was betraying him. He was so damn close to losing it.

You reached for him, your fingers grazing his arm lightly, and Mark couldn’t hold back the shudder that ran through him. It was subtle, but it was enough to make him realize how much he was really struggling to keep his composure.

Before he could respond, you stepped closer, your hand resting on his chest. “You can let go, Mark. It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice smooth and tempting.

He finally gave in, his hands coming up to pull you closer, desperation clear in his movements. His lips crashed against yours in a heated kiss, and the world around him seemed to disappear. All that mattered was the overwhelming need for release that had consumed him.

OMNI MARK

Mark sat rigidly at the edge of the bed, his hands clenched into fists. His Viltrumite physiology was doing nothing to quell the fire surging through his veins. He was usually in control—calm, collected, precise—but right now, everything felt off. His skin felt hot, his breath shallow, and the sense of urgency building within him only made it harder to concentrate.

He looked at you, but you were just sitting there, casually reading, utterly unaware of the battle going on inside him. He couldn’t figure out why his thoughts kept drifting to you, why everything about you was turning his world upside down.

“Y/N…” he rasped, his voice rougher than usual. He almost couldn’t recognize himself in the way he spoke, strained and desperate.

You didn’t look up right away, and it only made the frustration boil inside him. He could feel every nerve ending, every thought, every urge trying to break free. No. Not like this.

But it was becoming harder to resist. Every breath he took seemed to pull him closer to the edge. It was as if he couldn’t escape the pull you had on him, and it drove him to the brink of madness.

Finally, you looked up, catching the wildness in his gaze, the tension in his jaw. You could tell something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Mark,” you said softly, setting the book aside. Your voice was like a balm, but it only made everything worse. You stood, stepping toward him, concern knitting your brows together. “What’s going on with you?”

Mark exhaled sharply, pushing himself up from the bed. He was on his feet in an instant, towering over you, but there was something different about him now—like he was barely holding it together. His usual calm, no-nonsense demeanor was shattered, and all that was left was a man needing something. Something he couldn’t quite control.

“I… I’m not sure what’s happening,” he admitted, his breath coming faster. “But I can’t think straight. I can’t—” He stopped himself, frustrated by the words that wouldn’t come out. This wasn’t something he was used to. Being vulnerable.

You didn’t say anything, your eyes softening as you reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. The touch was simple, gentle—but it made his heart race even faster.

“Mark…” you whispered, trailing your fingers down his chest. “I can help, if you’ll let me.”

It was the way you said it that made him feel like he was barely holding onto his own sanity. The offer hung in the air between you two, thick with unspoken promise. He clenched his fists again, battling the urge to give in, to pull you close and just feel.

His resolve shattered when you stepped closer, your body almost flush with his. He could feel your heat, your closeness—every part of him wanted to take you then and there, to make the ache stop. But it wasn’t just the hunger inside him; it was something deeper, more personal.

“I can’t…” he started again, his voice shaking.

But you didn’t give him time to finish. Your hands cupped his face, drawing him down to you. Your lips met his in a kiss that burned through him, and everything he had fought to maintain melted away.

You didn’t pull away; instead, you held him tighter, sensing the way he was trembling, the way he was clinging to the last thread of control. Mark’s hands moved of their own accord, his grip possessive as he pulled you closer. He was almost rough, as if he needed to feel the intensity of it all—like the fire inside him couldn’t be tamed without it.

When you broke the kiss, your lips were swollen and breathless, and Mark could barely focus on the words you said next.

“Let me take care of you, Mark.”

His body betrayed him again, a low growl escaping him as he pulled you back into his arms, but this time he wasn’t going to resist. He was too far gone, and you were the only thing that mattered. With a breathless laugh, he gave in, fully aware that his need for you would never fade. And it was far too intense for either of you to ignore.

VILTRUMITE MARK

Mark stood in front of you, eyes narrowed as he looked you over. His usual calm demeanor was strained, his chest rising and falling slightly faster than usual. The air between you was thick with tension, and he could barely focus on anything other than the overwhelming sense of need crawling through his veins.

It was like something inside him had snapped. It wasn’t just the overpowering desire to claim you, to feel you under him—it was the primal urge to make you his in every way possible. To see you carry something of him. The thought took over his mind like an all-consuming fire.

He stepped closer to you, towering above you with that unnerving intensity only a Viltrumite could exude. You could feel his heat radiating off of him, his chest almost brushing against yours.

“Y/N…” His voice was low, laced with something darker than usual. “Do you feel that?” He didn’t need to explain—he knew you understood. The pull between you two had always been strong, but tonight, it was different. Something deeper was surfacing. Something more dangerous.

You swallowed, trying to calm the heat building in your own body as he stepped closer, until you were backed against the wall. His hands came to your sides, gripping you firmly, and there was no denying the urgency in his touch now.

“I need you,” Mark muttered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you against him, and you could feel the solid evidence of his desire pressing against you. It made your head spin, your heart racing as you felt your own arousal flare.

But there was more to it than just the desire. You saw the way his eyes flickered, how the primal hunger was shifting in his gaze, and you realized what he truly wanted—what he had always wanted deep down.

“You want me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice thick with possessiveness, and you couldn’t help but nod, your breath catching in your throat. “I’m going to make sure you carry my blood, Y/N.” His voice was almost a growl as he held you tighter. “I’m going to breed you. You’ll carry my child. Do you understand?”

You gasped, the words hitting you harder than you’d anticipated. It wasn’t just the intensity of the moment. It was the idea—the power behind it. The thought of him owning you in such a deep, irreversible way sent a shiver through your body.

“You’ll be mine. Completely,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands traveled lower, caressing the curve of your hips and thighs. “And I’ll make sure you’re filled with my blood—nothing will ever be the same again.”

His hands moved under your clothes, pulling you against him even more insistently, and you felt the flood of desire crash over you. Mark’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned down to kiss you, rougher than he usually was, demanding more than just a simple kiss.

“Mark…” you whispered, breathless as you finally met his intense gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. “Are you sure about this?”

He smirked, his usual cool demeanor replaced with something possessive, something raw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

#x reader #reader insert #x female reader #sinister mark x reader #mohawk mark x you #prisoner mark x you #omni mark x you #viltrum mark x reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader

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loovser · 15 hours ago

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the guy she was interested in wasn’t a guy at all - chapter 3

synopsis turns out the cute guy from the cd store is actually… a girl.

wc: 4,2k

cw: ellie is a total loser omg i need her, fluff, get rid of miller already ellie is better, overthinking, these bitches are gay asf, slow burn, flirting and um.. angst. also fuck you lila!!!!

the strawberries were now completely gone. they were sweet, so sweet you barely registered eating the whole thing in less than 30 minutes. but that also may be due to the fact that you were… busy in the meantime.

you were making a playlist. for ellie. well, miller — we’ve been through that already. you just really appreciated her gesture of giving you your favorite fruit. that’s all! it’s not like you are actually falling for her or something. cause that would be crazy! right…?

shaking your thoughts away, you look through the playlist again. there were a lot of songs she mentioned she liked. some that you thought she would like. this is kinda nerve-wracking. you wanted it to be the perfect thing for her to listen to anytime. and all the time.

because she was consuming your mind all the damn time. you kept thinking about the day you spent together. the tension that was always there, almost too much to bear. it could snap at any moment, really. you haven’t even known her for a week yet — technically you’ve been sharing classes with her for 4 months now, but who’s counting?

she is. because you are all she can think about as well. everything about you is just perfect for her. she is mesmerized by everything you do. everything you say. the way your hair frames your face so prettily. the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about the things you like. the way your cheeks get slightly pink when she flirts with you.

it’s almost infuriating how much you affect her without realizing. and it makes her sick to her stomach when she thinks about telling you the truth. the truth that is now running away from her and from you, more and more, as you get tangled on each other. she can’t stop feeling like shit whenever you are not around. physically, because mentally?

you are always there.

she sighs, still thinking about the message you sent her once you opened the gift.

you (7:45) omg. you’re actually the fucking best.

that was hours ago. three hours ago and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. she literally kicked her feet and giggled when she read it the first time. im actually the fucking loser. she should be asleep. first thing she has tomorrow morning at school?

VFX class. why the hell do they have to schedule this class twice during the week? yes, there are a lot of complicated and extensive things to be taught… and it was one of her favorite classes… but just thinking about seeing you again and not being able to talk to you was killing her.

she wonders how much more she can handle without totally blowing this all up. without making a mistake or saying the wrong thing and making you find out about the truth. her phone buzzing takes her out of her thoughts.

it’s a message from you. her heart races.

you (11:52) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pcARou6l7BtoiGSlAfjEp?si=OAzV49VjS46eY88uJWG_xw&pi=j9HJeil2TTmH7

she made me a playlist?! ellie nearly drops her phone. she clicks it. it reads ‘for miller’. there’s a picture of a starry night. the description says ‘yes, that’s my window.’ you took the picture for it? of a sky full of stars?

she sighs, trying to contain herself. you just keep getting sweeter. she keeps on drowning in you, losing herself in the vastness of you that lives in her mind — and in her heart. seeing that, somehow, you associated her with stars made her nerdy brain short-circuit.

if there’s something ellie loves more than music, it’s the space. and everything that’s in it. from galaxies, to planets, to stars. it fascinates her. ever since she was little she has been in love with it. she dreamed of being an astronaut, traveling through celestial bodies. it’s not really how it works, she knows that now.

but it will always be a part of her. a big one. something she could talk about for hours, days even. and you managed to see it in her, somehow. you, without realizing, put both of her biggest passions in the same place. something that you made for her. the three things she’s always thinking about: music, astronomy and you.

she tried not to read too much into it. it was hard. she was trying to decypher all the lyrics, wondering if you meant something else from some of the songs. maybe she was going crazy. what should she answer? there wasn’t enough words to tell you how much she loved it.

she knew exactly what would, though. so she made you a playlist too. but she didn’t send you, not yet. she wanted to see your reaction, your face, when she sends you the link. guess this will have to wait till tomorrow.

in the darkness of her childhood bedroom, she falls asleep. between her sick habit and savage starlight posters, the solitude she doesn’t have in her college dorm, and in the loud beats of the playlist you made her, she finds peace. hoping she won’t have sleep paralysis from listening to these songs until she sleeps.

you plop down on your seat. the classroom is still empty, there’s just you and a few people seating on the front rows. apparently, miller left you on read. you wanted to just not care about it cause maybe he just fell asleep? or he was busy?

but you do, already thinking of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened. was it too much? did you overstep? you see someone approaching the seat next to yours. looking up, you see her. ellie.

you haven’t seen her since last friday, when she was kind enough to get your earbud for you. there is something about her that makes you nervous. your gaze meets hers and you smile softly at her.

she almost panicks. she smiles back at you but she’s sure she must look ridiculous, trying hard not to blush or look flustered in your presence. it looks more like a flat smile. but you find it cute anyway.

now what’s up with that? why do i find her cute? you nearly groan in frustration. lately things are… weird. you don’t even know anymore what you are into or not. it’s been consuming you, all this miller and ellie situation. there’s no denying that you are attracted to both of them. but that’s all. surely!

and why does it matter, anyway? just let things happen. thinking like this eases your anxieties a little and you relax in your seat. you check your phone. it’s 8:06 a.m. class is getting full.

taking advantage of the fact that you are on your phone, ellie quickly opens her chat with you and sends you the link of the playlist she made you, shoving her phone back on her bag right away.

she bites down a smile when she hears your gasp.

you can’t believe it. that’s what took him so long to reply? you smile widely, opening it. the title is your name. simple, but it says a lot. there are lots of sick habit. ‘i was made for loving you’ by kiss catches your attention. not as much as ‘wonderwall’ by oasis. you don’t want to make assumptions, but some songs really… speak for themselves.

as you are immersed into the playlist, ellie keeps watching you. she tries to be smooth with it but some students almost laugh at how she’s straight staring at you. the way you can’t stop smiling is enough for her to not give a fuck if anyone sees her like this right now.

but Mr. Barbosa arrives, forcing her — and you, unfortunately — to finally pay attention to class. you steal a few glances at ellie, as time passes. she looks pretty today, too. wearing a forest green long sleeved shirt and skinny jeans. how does she look so good in those?

then, you remember the paper you have yet to finish. turns out it will be part of a bigger project, so you didn’t really have to turn it in last week. but you have to find a partner for it and it can’t be your friends, since they are also majoring in film.

without thinking too much about it, you turn to ellie.

“hey, um… are you doing that project with someone already?”

for a moment, she thought she was dreaming. hearing your voice again, so close to her. your eyes on her. shit, gotta answer.

“no. not yet, are you?” she tries her best to seem nonchalant about it and not act like her heart is about to explode. even if it is.

“no, i was thinking… maybe we could do it together?”

ellie blinks. it hits her like a train. the way you asked it so sweetly, almost like you were shy. she is sure she’s blushing now. this gay shit is so hard. she exhales, lips slightly parted as she manages to get the words out “yeah, sure. cool.”

you chuckle, finding her cute. again. the flat words that came out of her mouth almost too quickly, her pink-tinted cheeks. the way her freckles look when she blushes and how her green eyes widened a bit when you asked her to be your partner.

ellie forces herself to look away from you when you chuckle. or she would drool. her arm accidentally pushes her savage starlight comic to the floor, next to you, which catched your attention.

it happens so fast. when you lean down and touch it, she does it too, at the same time. her fingers brush against yours as you reach for it together. you look up and she is already looking at you. you’ve never been so close to her before. am i stuck in a sapphic tumblr fanfiction or what?

you grab the comic, clearing your throat as you hand it to her. “oh, isn’t it that space comic thing?”

she composes herself, getting it from your hand, murmuring a ‘thank you’. she looks at it, preparing herself to be called a nerd and whatever you might think of people who read these stuff. “yeah, um, it’s really cool.”

“i bet it is… i read one, once. there was this dr. daniela something? she’s badass” you point out.

“dr. daniela star?” she asks, dumbfounded “she is one of my favorite characters!”

“you have great taste then” you chuckle at her enthusiasm and she smiles.

“oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” did i say that out loud? you always make her feel so comfortable to be herself that she doesn’t realize what is actually coming out of her mouth.

“you could show me, then.” ellie’s not even sure what you are talking about anymore. her brain’s half-melted from the sound of your voice alone. “while we do the project, i would like to hear more about it.”

oh, righttttt. savage starlight. she nods, grinning. “just let me know if i get too carried away.”

you chuckle “i don’t think i would mind. but sure! when are you free to meet up and start it?”

“i’m free after class. i think my roomate won’t be around, so, if it’s okay with you, we can do it there.”

“sounds good, ellie” you smile. and she nearly passes out at her name leaving your lips. “can you give me your number? so we can talk about the details”

shit. shitshitshit. “umm… my number?” she chuckles, nervously. you nod, unaware that you already have it. “i d-don’t have it” she blurts out.

“you don’t have… a phone?” you frown, confused.

oh god kill me now. “yeah! i mean- no! i mean, i do, i just broke it so… it’s broken! very broken.”

“oh… makes sense now” you laugh.

it echoes in her head over and over. what a beautiful sound.

“yeah… but you can go there, like, around 3? i’ll be waiting for you.“

“sure! i’ll be there.”

she smiles at yours words. “great. my dorm’s number is 333.”

tidying up her part of the room was hard. not that she wasn’t organized… well that’s actually the case. don’t get her wrong: ellie hates dirty things. she’s very clean. but when it comes to organizing? it gets messy.

there were a lot of comics spread on her desk, her bed… even one lost in the bathroom. her action figures? everywhere. her roomate, lila, would complain about it all the time. but really, what wouldn’t she complain about?

there were even some papers on the other bed that she just throw into her roomie’s drawer, making sure to put everything in its place. she also made sure that things were clean.

she put the dirty clothes basket into the closet, just to make sure you wouldn’t see it and organized her shelves full of books, comics and action figures.

and you? well, there you are. dorm 333. at 3 p.m. you take a deep breath, watching the wooden door, like it’s going to knock on itself. you don’t even know why you are so nervous. you are just going to start your project. relax, damn.

taking a deep breath, you knock. from the other side of the door, ellie murmurs a rushed ‘shit’ and tries to compose herself. when she opens it, you take in her figure. her auburn mullet is half up, she is wearing a black tight long sleeved top and grey sweatpants. minecraft socks on her feet.

she looks so good you have to stop yourself from staring and looking like a creep. her toned arms can be noticed due to the tight fabric of the shirt, hugging them perfectly, and you feel dizzy. gladly, you snap out of it “hi! nice socks”

ellie laughs, cheeks blushing slightly. crap, i forgot those were on. “yeah, well, i am very stylish. as you can see.” she gives you some space, gesturing for you to come in.

“of course. you gotta remember me when you become the it girl on new york’s fashion week.” you tease.

she scoffs, playfully. like i could ever forget about you. you just stare at each other for a second and she rubs the back of her neck, nervous. “i’d lose my mind with all that attention.”

like she’s almost doing right now, alone with you. your attention is all on her. “you don’t like attention, huh?” you chuckle, looking around her dorm.

it’s so easy to say which half is hers. the wall is full of posters, from nirvana to savage starlight ones. her bed is kind of messy, the fuzzy spider-man blanket all wrinkled.

“depends on who’s attention i’m getting.” her tone is… silky, but it hits you hard and you look at her face. there’s a hint of a smirk on her lips. a shiver runs down your spine. is she flirting with me?

did i just flirt with her?! she facepalms herself mentally, plopping down on her bed while she holds your gaze, trying to look nonchalant. but she is not. her brain is almost turning off. she’s fidgeting her fingers.

“only selected people have the honour of you liking their attention, then?” you chuckle, seating next to her. your thighs brush and ellie swears she might pass out.

her knee bounces once before she catches herself. stop it. act normal. you are warm and she can feel it even with your clothes’s fabric in the way. “you could say that.” she grabs her laptop, putting it on her lap.

“am i one of them?” you ask, teasingly. her heart nearly stops. she didn’t expect you to be so bold. but she likes it. a lot. her grip on the electronic device tightens, but you don’t notice.

what you notice is how her already pink-tinted cheeks darken even more. you like the effect you have on her. isn’t it funny how miller didn’t even cross your mind, not even once? well, that is until you spot a sick habit cd on her desk.

“oh my god!” you say as you get up and she thanks the universe for not having to answer to your question. she would stutter so hard. “you like them too?”

she watched you, smiling at your enthusiasm. after all, she is the one who recommended them to you. “i love them. they are my favorite band.”

“you are really… something else, ellie.” your words are genuine. you just think she is so cool. and cute. and pretty. and just… not afraid to be herself? like, using minecraft socks or reading comic books during class. telling you how the song you were listening to was good.

if ellie knew you perceived her that way, she would go crazy. how can you see herself for what she truly is when all she does is try to stay low and not catch anyone’s attention in college? how can you understand her when you know how she is outside of that place too?

“have you met you?” is all she manages to say. from admiring you from her seat since she saw you for the first time in class, to really getting to know you, she couldn’t help herself. she was really falling for you, deeper and deeper. im fucked.

you smile widely at her. like you did earlier in class, when she sent you the playlist. her heart aches on her chest. you put the cd on the player, and ‘of two minds’ by sick habit starts to play.

“it’ll be more fun if we do it listening to them, don’t you think?” you tilt your head slightly, asking her. you sit next to her on her bed again.

she couldn’t say no to you. not when you were right there, next to her. not when she could feel your thigh against hers. not when she could sense the smell of your shampoo. “definitely.“

“i told you i wanted you to show me how great your taste is. didn’t i?”

the innuendo in your sentence makes her shiver. the tension in the room is palpable. almost too much to bare. you smirk. when you do, her breath hitches in her throat. “ain’t i showing you enough?” she murmurs, hoping that you would say no.

it lingers between you. this feeling, this moment. your closeness. which seems to be increasing by each second. you get lost into her green eyes. they are so… familiar.

she moves her hand towards your face, hesitantly. when it cups you cheek, you lean into her touch. her fingers are calloused, but the way they caress your skin is soft. there isn’t a second where your eyes leave hers, or hers leave yours.

her heart is racing so fast. she wanted to do that for so long. to feel your skin, to touch you. to have you this close. to see your eyes sparkling at her, the way it does now. at her, truly. not at her in the cd shop where you think she’s a guy. it feels surreal.

until her dorm’s door is yanked open and her roomate barges in, startling both of you. as you get away from each other, lila doesn’t even look at you, apparently looking for something on her bed.

hiding your frustration, you just keep quiet. you almost kissed ellie. should you feel bad? because you really don’t. yes you’ve been talking to someone… flirting with him. exchanging playlists. but it’s nothing serious yet. right?

ellie sighs “what the fuck, lila?” she puts her laptop down on the bed, a hand in her heart as she recovers from it. from you.

“i forgot my essay. shit, where is it? did you touch what was on my bed, ellie?” her rude tone made you frown.

“yeah, it’s in your drawer.” she gets up to open the drawer she referred to, but the other girl rushes in and opens it herself.

“don’t ever touch my things again.” lila says, grabbing her papers and slamming the door when she leaves.

there’s a beat of silence.

“she’s so lovely.” you say, breaking the ice. ellie laughs, coming back to her bed, next to you. she’s so pretty when she laughs.

“yeah, um, i didn’t think she would show up. sorry about that…”

you squeeze her shoulder gently, as if to comfort her. “it’s not your fault. don’t worry.”

her anxieties crumble when you do that. she takes a deep breath, trying not to focus on your touch so much. she smiles at you. “right. for the project, um, have you made the first part?”

as you started talking about the project and what you had in mind for it, both of you tried ignoring the tension that never seemed to fade away. every excuse you had for touching each other was being taking advantage of.

like when you showed her some references of what you thought would be good, leaning closer to her to show it on the laptop’s screen. or when she asked you for one of your colorful markers to sketch something in her journal and her touch on your finger lingered for a little longer.

not to mention the way you were staring at each other, the eye contact almost making you go insane. the little shy chuckles that left your mouths. ellie needed to breathe or else she would do something stupid.

every second she spent next to you, every glance you threw her way, every accidental brush of your hands. it was like something was being carved into her, slowly, softly, permanently.

and when you laughed at one of her dumb jokes about how the main character in savage starlight would be a terrible film director, she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

you made her feel like she was in orbit, like everything else was just distant starlight, and you were the only thing real and glowing.

at some point, the work stopped being the focus. pages sat open, notes abandoned mid-sentence. the music played on, faintly into the background, the sound of your heartbeats louder to your ears.

you caught her staring again and she looked away quickly, biting her lip. "you are really bad at pretending you're not staring" you teased softly.

ellie choked on a laugh "says you."

you grinned, leaning back on your hands, your thigh still pressed to hers. “fair enough.”

another silence. not a bad one. just a moment where you both are too lost on each other and at the growing feeling that makes your stomaches twist. in the dim light of her dorm, she aches at the way you shine at her.

“hey, um, i am gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” she announces. you nod, briefly looking up at her and flashing her a smile.

her sleeves were pushed up slightly and you could see something on her right arm. her inked skin. you were not sure what the drawing was, but it was definitely a tattoo. sometimes you thought about how many similarities she has with… no. stop, you are being crazy.

you rest against the wall, still sitting on the same spot of her bed. you run your hand through the fuzzy blanket to ground yourself. but it accidentaly touches something hard under her pillow. you frown.

deciding to see what it is, you lift the pillow and you see it. her phone. the broken one? doesn’t seem broken at all. what if im not being crazy? is the question that keeps popping in your head.

those were just… coincidences. right? you didn’t even see ellie’s full tattoo. many people gets tattoos on their right arm! that’s normal. and her eyes… well miller is not the only person allowed to have green eyes. obviously.

you shouldn’t be checking her phone. it’s her personal stuff. but you do. you click the button on its right side and the screen lits up. there’s a song already halfway through. it’s paused. you recognize it, ‘californication’ by red hot chili peppers.

it’s a banger. everybody listen to it, don’t they? so what if you put that into the playlist you made for miller? it doesn’t mean anything.

until it does. when you skip to the next song, it’s ‘pour some sugar on me’ by def leppard. the next one? ‘cherry waves’ by deftones. no…

you are on the verge of breaking down. you open your spotify, searching for the playlist. your fingers tremble as you click on it. you check the order. it’s the same. it can’t be.

you skip again. ‘even flow’ by pearl jam. the first tear falls. you go backwards, seeing if the song before californication is what you think it is. you check it on your phone first.

then, you touch the button to the previous song on her phone. ‘heart-shaped box’ by nirvana. that’s all the confirmation you need.

so many feelings rush through your body. it’s overwhelming. embarassment, betrayal, humiliation… it’s too much. the tension snapped and took you with it.

as ellie finishes cleaning her face and taking deep breaths, she hears some noises. she can’t identify what they are. so she opens the door to her room.

you are not there anymore. what is, though? her phone. what is this doing here? i though i hid-

that’s when she knows. you found out.

taglist!

thank you for the support babes, hope you like it 💘

@vahnilla @liztreez @hyperbabes @lybbay @coeurcanelle @desiretolive @b1uecatt @moonystoes @eriiwaiii2 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @uraesthete @machetegirl109 @snuffphiliaa @robinphobia @na0koz @ellies-real-wife @vivzzi @wtvm0m0 @lesoulew @violetszn

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prettydaisygirl · 1 day ago

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after reading your fratjames potter x reader work it did something for me! And it made me think of angsty idea

May I request a modern au where the reader and James are already in an established relationship ship

And because of a bad friend of James they have misunderstanding and some incident happen and reader happens to be present at the wrong time and because of that the bad friend spread misinfo and James believe that friend ....so it kinda leads to James hurting readers feelings

Pls feel free to ignore if i couldn't get my idea across ❤️

Hi, lovely! Thank you so much for your request! It also spawned another idea in my brain so there's another James fic coming soon also inspired by you! I hope this is what you were looking for, I appreciate you taking the time to send me a request. Much love <3

boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who disagree about Peter ✿ 927 words

cw: fem reader, Peter is the worst, misunderstanding, angst, open ended.

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

You really, really try to like Peter. He’s the only member of James’ group that you don’t consider a good friend.

It’s not that you think Peter is a bad person. But sometimes he says things about people that you think are… harsh. Sometimes even cruel. And usually these things are said behind the targeted person’s back. You don’t like that.

Every time you bring it up to James, voice whispered and hesitant so you don’t rock the boat, he tells you that he and the other boys have just learned not to listen to Peter’s cruel words.

“But how can you just… let him sit there and say things like that?” You’ll argue, though your tone is soft and your fingers will brush over his chest like they belong there. Because they do.

James will take a heavy breath and meet your eyes, barely able to see the glint of your pupils in the darkness of the bedroom. “After a while… you start to realize that the things that Peter says are true.” Silence will fill the air for just a moment and then, “He usually just says a meaner version of what everyone else is already thinking.”

So you put on a smile, and you tolerate Peter.

You sip your glass of wine, eyes moving over the restaurant’s fancy decor. The tall ceilings and shimmering chandeliers do nothing to aid the awkward silence at the dinner table.

For whatever reason, James had agreed for the two of you to go on a double date with Peter and his new girlfriend. She sits across from you, typing away on her phone without a care in the world. James had just stood up to go to the bathroom, leaving you and Peter in awkward, tense silence.

Your eyes land on Peter when he clears his throat, a smirk appearing on his lips. You hate the way it makes your skin crawl.

“Don’t you think James is a bit obnoxious?” He asks, and you’re sure anyone else would laugh out loud at the face you make.

“What?” You ask, disbelief and offense dripping in your tone, “Of course, I don’t!”

Peter’s eyebrows raise and the corner of his lip turns up even more like you said exactly what he wanted to hear. His girlfriend’s eyes raise up from her phone long enough to look between the two of you before lowering again.

“Oh, come on,” Peter encourages cruelly, “You don’t really buy that whole teddy bear, lover-boy act, do you?” His eyes roll, “I’ve known James for years, and it’s always the same. He finds a girl he really likes, absolutely fawns over her until he gets bored, and then he finds another one. Simple as that.”

Your stomach churns, your ears ring and you’re sure if looks could kill Peter would already be six feet under. “That’s not true.”

“It is, and you know it.” Peter tilts his head condescendingly and you wish you’d pretended to be sick instead of coming to this stupid dinner. “He’s going to find someone new and leave you in the dust. Like clockwork.”

“Stop.” You try not to let his words get to you but he seems to know every single soft spot in your armor. Your worst fears that you’ve never even spoken out loud to James himself.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Peter continues, swirling his own glass of wine before taking a long sip. “It could be tonight. Maybe one of the wait staff will catch his eye.”

“Listen, Peter,” You break, eyes dialed in on the man sitting across from you. If you can call him a man. More like a rat. “I have always thought you were cruel and disgusting. You invited us to dinner, and I came because James asked me to. But I won’t do this anymore. You’re an absolute weasel of a man and I hate you.”

But Peter doesn’t look upset by your words. In fact, he looks delighted, almost like a happy schoolboy. You realize why when you hear James’ voice behind you, your name stated in a cracking tone full of disbelief and hurt.

You turn in your chair to look at him, guilt taking over your features.

“James-” You try to say, the hurt look on his face making your chest physically ache.

“How can you speak to one of my friends like that?” He asks, eyes dark and voice low. He doesn’t sit back down at your table. “I know you don’t like Peter, but calling him names and saying you hate him? That’s cruel.”

You can feel your world crumbling around you, and Peter doesn’t even bother hiding his glee. In fact, it radiates off of him. His girlfriend looks like she’s enjoying the show now, phone in her lap.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, why you are so hateful and full of anger.” James grabs for his jacket and you reach for it too. He shoots you a look and you pull your hand away, feeling utterly shamed and scolded. You want to tell him that this is all a misunderstanding, that if he heard the things Peter said about him, he would agree with you.

But you can’t. Because Peter is standing then, too, and so is his girlfriend. James sends you a look, and when he leans down to kiss you he only presses a chaste one to your hair, not one to your lips like usual.

“I’ll call you.” He says.

And you wonder if he ever will.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

#daisy's writings #boyfriend!james potter #james potter au #james potter #james potter angst #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #hp marauders #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter x self insert #marauders angst

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luviisabella · 1 day ago

Text

healing with luviisabella ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

(a short series, suggestive + fluff)

-> katsuki bakugou 🩵

———————————————————————

It had been 4 months, almost 5 since you and Bakugou started dating. It was a cliche friends to lovers and he ironically confessed first. You still remember the day because his face was red and he swore if you said no he would have died then and there. Luckily for both of you, no wasn’t the answer..

You had been in relationships before.. one becoming very intimate and it’s the reason why you’re preparing hot chocolate and getting ready with Bakugou to have what might be an interesting conversation.

The topic of sex hasn’t really lingered much in your relationship, small PDA and casual touching of course, but it never led to anything more than that. It started to make you wonder, was something wrong ?

You gently sat the hot chocolate down before getting comfortable on the couch. Bakugou was in his patrol uniform, it was late but unfortunately he got called in, meaning you had a good hour to get this over with.

You hesitated, not sure how to really start the conversation, so you decided to lay it out as blunt as possible.

“I know we’ve only been dating for four months..”

his eyebrow quirks up

“But I’m wondering… how come you haven’t.. i don’t know, mentioned or wanted sex ?”

Now you’ve got his attention, he looks at you with a straight face, almost scanning your eyes for something.

“I could ask you the same thing” is his only response as he relaxes against the arm of the couch.

He has a point.. why haven’t you said anything ?

“I don’t know..” and for some reason you can’t seem to meet his eyes

“I’m waiting for you, y/n”

His words send chills down your spine.. you look up at him wanting to ask but he already answers

“I want you to come to me when you’re ready”

And his sentence repeats in your head, you know he means it, Bakugou could never be bothered to fake anything

You try to mumble out words but instead your lip quivers as your eyes fill with tears.

He hesitates to move closer to you, not sure what he said caused you to cry.

“I’m sorry.” And this may have been the first time you’ve ever caught him by surprise, because what the hell are you apologizing for ?

“I’m.. *hiccup* I’m sorry.. I think I’ve been too scared, I did it before but one person and he-“ and your vision went completely blurry, overcome by tears you could only make out the movement of what looked like Bakugou’s figure.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you in tight and although you couldn’t see his expression.. he looked.. sad.

“I d-didnt want you to hate me.. I couldn’t.. I couldn’t talk about it because I wanted.. I wanted to forget.. it hurt so much and I-“

Your words were cut off by him hugging you tighter and you couldn’t help out cry into his chest.

“You don’t have to explain it to me.”

Those were his only words as he let you cry, he could tell you needed it, this was something you had been holding in for a while.

Once he noticed you were quiet he gently let go and let you rub the tears from your cheeks, he wanted to give you as much space as he could while still letting you know he was right here.

“He hurt me.. I was an idiot when we dated and it wasn’t until after that I realized all the things he did and I can’t take it back or change it and I feel.. I don’t know”

“Why take it back ?”

You look up at him in confusion..

“You had an experience with a guy who treated you like shit. He’s clearly a fucking dumbass for letting you walk out of his life but it seems to have worked out cause now you’re mine.”

And his little remark earns a soft smile from you, one he always loves to see.

“Don’t cry over some piece of shit who never cared to begin with. What happened between you two, it doesn’t matter. You’re y/n, not him, and he doesn’t and didn’t deserve you. So get that jackass off your mind cause he doesn’t deserve that shit either.”

And now you can’t help but roll your eyes at his obvious attempt to make you laugh.

He leans in to kiss your forehead.. a gentle act but it always makes your heart melt.

“If we’re doing anything, it’s at your own pace got that ?”

And you nod your head wondering how you got so lucky. Wondering if all the things you went through were with it if it meant you’d have this. Have him.

He gets ready to stand up seeing as his patrol starts soon but before he does he gives you a much needed kiss and leans into whisper in your ear..

“I’ll make sure I do everything his ass failed to do. I’ll be the first and the last to give you what you need.”

And before you could process what he meant he was already up, grinning because seeing your reaction to his words was worth every bit of him being late.

The door closed and you could hear his explosions as he went off to his patrol.. despite everything, the tears, the sadness, the anger, you knew it would be okay.

sincerely, a girl who’s still healing :)

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gothamite-rambler · 2 days ago

Text

On a dreary Tuesday morning, the manor was quiet. Jason and Stephanie were trying out different handshakes, Bruce was reading news articles on his phone, Dick was making flavored water, and Kory was leaving the bedroom upstairs, fully dressed.

Stephanie (slapping hands with Jason): You're going too fast!

Jason (increasing the speed of the patty cake): Move faster!

Kory: I have an announcement to make, and it's best if Bruce is here because he knows he can't stop me with what I'm about to ask.

Bruce: Keep thinking that.

Kory sighed, annoyed by Bruce, then walked over to her boyfriend and took his hand. He smiled, ready to hear what she had to say.

Kory: Dickie bird, if you wanted me to, who would you like me to kill for wronging you?

Stephanie (turning to Kory): Yas queen, slay!

Jason laughed at the request, while Dick's eyes widened in shock.

Dick (taken back): What?

Bruce (shocked): What did she just ask?

Kory: I can explain. Dick has told me about specific figures who haven’t been properly dealt with. I know how you all feel about not killing, which I respect, but some people who hurt good people deserve to rot. Plus, I’m an alien princess; I can do this and not get arrested.

Jason and Stephanie: Aww.

Bruce: Don’t “aww” that! You don’t have diplomatic immunity, Starfire!

Kory: You have no idea if I do, Bruce.

Dick: Kory, Kory, Bruce’s opinion doesn’t matter right now. I… where is this coming from?

Kory: I was thinking about you the other night and how kind and strong you are. The man you've become, despite the trauma you've endured and being raised by Batman, which must have been hellish at times. Did I use "hellish" right?

Jason: Yeah, you did.

Stephanie: Right on the money.

Bruce: Why am I being insulted in the middle of this conversation?

Kory: Shush. Dick, I love you so much. I adore you, but knowing what those people have done to you while walking free fills me with the rage of a thousand warriors. I want to right those wrongs. I couldn't annihilate all my abusers, but I can do that for yours.

Dick: Jason, did you put her up to this?

Jason: I mentioned how you don’t want me to kill your enemies. Kory respects your desire not to kill, but she’s also rightfully pissed that you’ve dealt with so many terrible people. That’s why we’re still friends.

Kory (giving Dick's hand a gentle squeeze): Dick, I will respect your wishes as I have in the past, but I thought asking first was the best idea. So, what do you say?

Bruce: Dick, if I may—

Stephanie (tossing a muffin at Bruce): No, you may not! Continue, lovebirds.

Dick: Kory, like I told Jason, I appreciate your willingness to kill for me, but I don’t want that. Them living miserable lives is all I need. When I ignore their existence, I’m winning. Plus, you’re not on Tamaran anymore. You don’t have to kill your enemies to succeed.

Kory: That’s very true. I just feel there’s something I can do to avenge you.

Dick: The love and support you give me is enough. I love you so much, and I’d beat anyone who hurt you within an inch of their lives, but I’d rather make them live. Torture can be very effective.

Bruce: (mumbling) I really need to stop teaching you guys that.

Kory: Very well, I can see the benefit of letting them live and suffer. But this might make you happy to hear: I visited Talia al Ghul a few days ago and challenged her to a duel. She lost but lived, and I got this gold ring as a prize. Here you go.

Kory handed Dick the solid gold ring. His eyes widened in shock at the prize won in battle against his sworn enemy. He bit his bottom lip, feeling overwhelmed.

Dick: This is enough. This avenged me.

Bruce: I should probably deal with that… after I finish my coffee.

Dick and Kory hugged and kissed while Bruce sipped his coffee, slowly. Jason left grossed out by the PDA couple, and Stephanie snapped a quick picture with her phone.

Stephanie: You think I can find a partner who will battle my sworn enemy and bring me back jewelry? Oh wait, Cass might do that in two years.

Bruce (pointing to the doorway while reading an article on his phone): Leave.

Stephanie walked out of the kitchen, laughing. Meanwhile, Bruce continued reading a news report on his phone about Batman saving the day yet again, while Kory and Dick went off to spend some time together.

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pilotingdreammsss · 3 days ago

Note

Happy birthday! (Sorry if I'm late.)

I have a writing request if that's okay. You don't have to if you don't want to.

I want Platonic Yandere Dark Cacao Cookie vs Platonic Yandere Pure Vanilla vs Platonic Yandere White Lily with a shy and timid reader.

I just want those three as rivals if that's okay.

Again, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm just bored.

-❄💗🖋

Hi anon! I don't think I'll do your request justice...! But I'll try anyway... these WILL be headcanons since I don't think writing for so many characters is in my capabilities.

A/N: Don't massacre me. I can't really write PV, which SUCKS cause he's immensely popular at the moment. LOL.

Warnings: Obsessive/possessive behaviour, unhealthy power dynamic, implied violence, yandere behaviour. Continue at your own discretion.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, I feel, would be the lesser involved than the other two in terms of the rivalry. He's less concerned for his rivals and more concerned about you getting caught up in the crossfire. Usherings to the healer's tent, unprecedented check-ups at your home, and borderline stalking ensues.

He's convinced himself it's for your health, but he knows deep inside that he's also keeping tabs on the two others. He knows it's wrong to police your life.

He wouldn't dream of resorting to violence, not unless you're involved at mass. Even then, he remains someone who would rather resolve conflicts through talk. He doesn't like hurting people, but he will if they're hurting you.

His interests at most clash with Dark Cacao Cookie - whilst PV would much rather have you freely roam through life (with his supervision, of course). Dark Cacao Cookie wants you static in the Citadel. The two never resort to violence, at least not in your presence, remaining vaguely civil so as not to scare you away.

Pure Vanilla Cookie is much more tame - but his strange helicopter-like supervision is not entirely unlike him. You chalk it up to protectiveness. He knows you're so soft after all. You haven't the heart to tell him to leave you alone after so long.

"Something felt wrong, so I arrived to check on you, friend."

"Stay weary around Dark Cacao Cookie... I fear he may be a bad influence."

"Your wounds... let me heal them for you."

Dark Cacao Cookie is a different story - the weak have no place in such a dangerous world. When you'd become acquaintances, what first stood out to him was how timid you were. Mild - it was admirable, but her feared that he couldn't protect you as a friend. Left-over anguish from the estrangement of his son had seeped into the cracks of all his relationships.

Dark Cacao Cookie keeps a watchful eye on all your other relationships.

You notice his hold on his sword grow tight as you meddle with Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie. Warnings to stay away from them are frequent, though you shyly wave them away. It angers him a little, as he's convinced that he should be your sole protector.

Because the world will scar you - or so he's convinced. His traits appear as protectiveness, and, in dire situations, they're almost forceful. You admit to him that he scares you a little, and he appears wounded. The behavior is embedded into him so deeply that he doesn't know how to stop... He needs to place himself between you and 'dangerous influences'.

He wants you to stay in the Dark Cacao Kingdom - not entirely in the Citadel - but close enough. He wants to protect you, given danger arises. The Watchers are instructed to keep some eyes on you. You sometimes catch Caramel Arrow Cookie changing her usual routes to pass your home and make sure you're safe. Dark Cacao Cookie doesn't see her as a rival, so you make leisurely small talk sometimes.

Though, when the ancient's unsavory traits arise as topics in conversation, she grows protective. She'd been fed the same rhetoric by the king that you needed to be protected, and that what he did for you and the kingdom was for good.

"White Lily Cookie could be dangerous. You know of her past."

"Feral cream wolves have been spotted at the borders of the markets. I insist to come with you."

"This is to protect you."

White Lily Cookie has different motivations than the other two. Though the other two believe they assert themselves as protectors in your life, she sees you as a source of penitence for her sins. Her immense clinging grows overwhelming at times. She's with you whenever she can be. Though you admittedly enjoy her company, you wish she'd leave you alone some days.

Any signs of abandonment would have her spiral and cling harder than before. Interactions with Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao Cookie have her on edge.

She's less inclined to violence than Dark Cacao, though more inclined than Pure Vanilla. Despite this, she doesn't want to, in fear that you'll see her as Dark Enchantress Cookie. Her behavior manifests in subtle possessiveness. Grabbing your wrists and hands when you linger with other friends for too long, pulling you away from groups, worried glances when she has to leave...

She, too, is timid. However, she takes the more outspoken role, particularly if you're in peril. She'll speak for you somedays. You're confused about whether to be grateful or if you don't appreciate the gesture.

Conclusively, her guilt drives her actions. Her guilt over the past, the guilt when she harms you, even if by accident. Holding you close lessens the guilt, and when she succeeds as a friend, she feels temporary freedom from it. You have to walk on eggshells around her if you don't wish for her to spiral.

"I'm a good friend, right?..."

"They're pulling you away. Please don't go!..."

"I feel lighter around you."

A/N: Biggg post. I hope I didn't do the request too dirty lol XP. I also have exams, which is why it took so long.

#cookie run kingdom fic #crk #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #crk x you #reader insert #crk reader insert #crk fic #yandere white lily #platonic yandere #yandere dark cacao #yandere cookie run kingdom #yandere crk #yandere pure vanilla #yandere pure vanilla cookie x reader #yandere white lily cookie x reader #yandere dark cacao cookie #yandere crk x reader #yandere crk x you

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hedwig221b · 15 hours ago

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Kinda random but do you know any fics where Derek calls Stiles baby or sweetheart (or something similar) and Stiles gets all flustered?

Can I offer you, like, my entire collection lmao 😭💖 It's baby, sweetheart, angel, kitten, sunshine... I love pet names

tbh when you mention sterek and pet names, siand is the first who comes to mind. Like, truly, a sterek pet name connossieur, and the one who got me addicted to 'kitten' as a pet name for Stiles

Tax Evasion by standinginanicedress

Stiles chews on his thumb a bit harder, and for a second he thinks about saying no. He thinks about letting the whole thing go and just going back to his life, the safe and easy way out. He considers just settling for someone who’ll never really get him, some boring guy who touches him the wrong way and buys him flowers sometimes. He’s been doing it for years upon years, now, and really, what’s a little bit longer? And then, what’s the rest of his life? What’s the worst that could happen, he wonders? Trying something is better than not trying at all.

Stars and Their Meanings by standinginanicedress

"You’re older,” Stiles begins counting, on his index, “you’re bad news,” on his middle, “you were recently accused of murder,” ring, “and we have not a damn thing in common,” his pinky. “I mean, come on. You just want to mess around with me if you want me at all.” “Mess around with you?” Derek shakes his head, like that blows his mind. “What is that supposed to mean?” Stiles waves his hand. “Like, ohh, you’re a bad boy, and I’m the Sheriff’s son, so it’s all so hot. I get it.”

Helen of Troy by standinginanicedress

Stiles can fake laugh, fake smile. He can play coy and he can be demure and barely eat anything in front of them, and he can sit still and do his little song and dance of feigning interest. But this is a little out of his scope. They want him to fully become someone else. They want him to be who everyone wants him to be, and it scares the shit out of Stiles, because he doesn’t know if he can do it for hours and hours while cameras watch his every single move. It’s a lot. It’s more than he bargained for.

You're My Sanctuary by lilmissdaydreamer

The Argent Wolf Sanctuary. It’s been Stiles’ dream since he was five years old to work with the wolves, ever since his mother took him up there to see the magnificent creatures on one of their ‘full moon runs’ that the Sanctuary does once a month. The wolves are beautiful and much larger than Stiles would’ve thought, or at least, the newest wolf is. The owner had said he’s a special breed. Stiles just didn’t realize quite how special he is.

You Were Already My Baby by SterekLoverForEver

Stiles would like to preface that he is NOT dating Derek. Even if Stiles wishes with all his heart, he knows he never has a chance with Derek. Stiles has seen such a positive change in Derek in almost 2 years of knowing him, and he doesn’t want to get in the way of his progress. Stiles has seen the hard work and dedication Derek has put in, Derek has become the most kind and special alpha the pack loves and relies on. Stiles knows that Derek has worked on uniting the pack together as well as developing a bond with each member of the pack. Derek has been able to level with each member and have their own unique friendship because he wants to be someone each member can turn to. While Stiles and Derek’s friendship may look different from the others, it’s only a friendship. So despite what others may say, Stiles would definitely know if he was in a relationship with the most perfect specimen that is Derek Hale. Or 6 Times (I couldn't help myself) Stiles Didn't Know He and Derek Were Dating + 1 Time He Did

Stay by wulfarchival (wyrmwolf)

In which Stiles just wants to loose his virginity and goes to The Jungle to do just that. But instead gets himself a hot Dom and a werewolf boyfriend. Except, he just doesn’t know about the werewolf part. Yet.

Baby by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

When Stiles was fifteen, he dubbed Derek Sourwolf, and unfortunately for Derek, the name stuck. In retrospect, Derek didn't really mind all that much, especially if it was a breathless whimper in his ear. Funny thing is, Derek didn't have a pet name for Stiles.

The Arrangement by Arver7

Through blackmail and lies, Stiles and Derek are forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. If they each want to survive each other, they must learn to coexist. But the more they get to know each other, the more they seem to care about each other. But will the lies stop them from falling in love?

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joramrinah · 3 days ago

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This fucking episode, my gods...I think this may finally get them to truly start getting along again. Where do I even start, this was such a good episode:

-Ava running to Deb the second she saw something was wrong, and trying to give her tips to feel better, because she fucking cares

-Deb seeing someone she looked up to, and having a beautiful conversation with them, I love that for her

-"Pick one person and do the show just for them" that is good advice honestly

-I KNEW IT WOULD BE AVA SHE WOULD CHOSE BUT I STILL SCREAMED AND CRIED, ARE YOU KIDDING ME

-The giggle, in the see of hundreds of voices she fucking heard Ava's giggle, OR, IF SHE DIDN'T HEAR, SHE KNOWS THE SOUND SO WELL SHE WAS ABLE TO HEAR IT IN HER MIND JUST FROM LOOKING AT AVA AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S BETTER

-That look on Deb's face when she was delivering that joke to Ava and Ava only, and then seeing her reaction and being so happy about it, that fucking smile, and then she fucking giggled herself I CAN'T WITH THEM

-Ava wanted to wait to see if Deb would wanna talk because she knew how big of a moment for her it truly was

-am I the only person who wants nothing to do with that couple, immediately no, the second they offered her a ride my stomach dropped, i hate it, throw it in the garbage, no, the only thropules Ava should be in is the ones with Deb. Like the extent to which we know Ava and Deb's relationship makes any attempts at romance for both of them with anyone else but each other feel empty and shallow, and just leaves a bad taste in my mouth

-Once again, something's wrong with Deb? Ava's RUNNING

-So Ava has Deb's location, and Deb made Ava her emergency contact?!? That's fine, cool, cool, totally not a big deal at all

-Omg the way Deb was looking at Ava, watching her reaction to the show kjsbsudjsksh and they congratulated EACH OTHER ON IT?!?! IT'S THEIR SHOW, CONFIRMED

-The way they didn't intend on watching the show together, but ended up doing so anyways, because they were always supposed to?!?!

-I was so hoping they would hold hands, it felt like they really were supposed to

-THEY MADE EACH OTHER LAUGH AGAIN, I REPEAT, DEB MADE A JOKE SPECIFICALLY TO AVA AND SHE LAUGHED, AND IT MADE DEB SO HAPPY I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY

-THE SONG AT THE END?!?! THE LYRICS?!? HELLO?!?!?!

#ava x deborah #deborah x ava #deborah vance #ava daniels #avadeb #avorah #hacks #hacks tv show #hacks spoilers #hacks hbo #hacks season 4 #hacks s4 #hacks max

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yourstrulyrani · 2 days ago

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woah it's the same anon from the knight!reader and prince!simon hc!!!

ive had this idea for a while now, but i never really got around to writing it.

what if reader and simon were deployed to a mission to kill the son of a terrorist or something

so they assume that the son is an adult at least, right?

wrong! it turns out, while they were waiting to snipe him at the plane he was getting off of, it was actually a child they had to kill.

i didnt really think up an ending for this, so you can go crazy w it!

love your writing by the way.

much love,

-🌊

simon riley x soldier!reader cw: mentions of blood & violence (military inaccuracies too) // wc: 1680 a/n: omg hi i love this idea so much, and thank you for the last bit, it means a lot to know that people like you love my writing 🥲♥︎!! can i apologize for how long this took for me to write too, i truly am so sorry. i want to thank you all for 600 followers (you guys are insane i adore you every one of you) so i decided that i should spoil yall on this gorgeous fridayyy

“So you’re telling me the job isn’t done yet?” Ghost turns his head to the TV hung on the wall, glaring daggers at the projected image of Makarov’s face.

You’re alone with Lieutenant Riley himself in a debriefing room, going over the next mission. “No, LT.” You sigh as you slide your lieutenant a manilla folder across the desk. You pace back and forth in front of the large screen, hands tucked behind you. “During the last mission, Gaz and Price have found out that not only was Milena Romanova his financier, but long-time lover. They happen to have had a lovechild: Mikhail Makarov.” You press the button to the next slide, showing a blank profile picture. “We currently have limited information on Mikhail, so we don’t have a picture of him. Age is inconclusive but it is likely that he is in his late teens and that he works as a Konni Group affiliate.

“Of course he does, Sergeant. His father was their bloody leader.” You press the button to the next slide, showing an island from a bird’s eye view. “We currently believe that Mikhail is currently residing with Milena on Plutus Island, the same private island that you and Soa—” your throat tightens up as you were about to mention his name.

It stings. You feel like a replacement to a priceless man.

“You and Johnny,” you continue, “had to go back in 2023 to gather Makarov’s banking information. If I can contact Laswell, I can set up something so you can go there again.”

Ghost finally grabs the file, scrolling through each page. Once finished, he tosses the file onto the conference table and settles back, crossing his arms in front of his chest and then his legs in a figure-four. “Only me?” You could see his eyes squint behind the mask in confusion.

“You’re capable enough to go in alone, sir. It’s a simple ‘neutralize the targets’ type of mission.”

“But it wouldn’t hurt to have you come with me.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You try to read the skull-faced man’s mask and eyes for any emotion, but it’s always hard with him. That mask conceals his exterior as much as it does the inside of him. You know Ghost has a personality, from his dad jokes while on missions and his clinical precision, but you always wondered when he would peel the mask off and just one day, for one moment, be Simon.

After weeks of preparation, Laswell gave you and Ghost the green light. Neutralize both Romanova and her son. It was a simple mission that both you and Ghost were both prepared for. Ghost convinced himself the only reason he asked you to come with him was so it would be easier sniping them at the same time. Or it may be because you’re a good sergeant. He hates to admit it. He wouldn’t mind Johnny back. But he thinks to himself a lot that you’re not so bad either. You never were.

“No Konni Group in sight, huh?” Ghost lays himself down on the concrete. The island for once was empty.

“Clearly not, Bravo 0-7.” Laswell says through the comms. “As soon as you see Romanova or Mikhail, take the shots.”

A car entered the lavish driveway of the island’s residence. Luckily, Ghost and you had a clear view of the car where the driver was. It took a couple of moments before both you and Simon noticed a woman walk out of the driver’s seat of a blacked out Mercedes Maybach SUV.

“Milena Romanova is here.” Ghost says to you and Laswell. You could see through the sniper that she was dressed down in a long-sleeved black a-line dress with matching sunglasses and pumps. Her hair was enough to know that the woman you were seeing was Milena herself, as she still kept the same hairstyle that the task force saw her in the last time they visited this island.

“As soon as you see Mikhael, drop them both. Sergeant, take Milena. Ghost, you take Mikhail.” Laswell directed.

A young man dressed head to toe in Konni Group attire exited out of the passenger side door, and it could only be one person: Mikhail Makarov.

You and Ghost didn’t waste a moment to do what Laswell asked. With one quick pull of the trigger you took the shot for Milena, and Ghost for Mikhail. You saw Milena’s body abruptly fall lifeless to the floor after you heard the crack of your weapon. The hair that was once styled perfectly now splayed across the road and had blood soaking through it which seeped out of her locks and crept into the crevices of the cobblestone. Mikhail dropped down to the ground a split second later, his body falling on to his mother.

Ghost thought his ears were deceiving himself until he heard a screeching cry. He thought it was the birds in the area, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He used his scope to get a closer look. Right behind the driver’s door, the passenger door, was a baby in a car seat. The same brown hair as Milena and the same hooded eyes as his dead dad. The man’s eyes widened in horror. The baby’s carseat was splattered in blood and his once white onesie was the same. You turned to look at Simon, and for the first time you saw his eyes widen in pure guilt. The man that Ghost shot wasn’t Mikhail, but the baby splattered with blood around him was. Ghost felt his hand twitch, making him drop the sniper in his hands as he left you on the building.

Your eyes were fixed on the Lieutenant’s retreating form, but your ears were fixed on the baby’s ringing cries. It was a vulnerable and helpless little human, who now has no parents. You feel the shame pool in your stomach and come out by making your hand sweat and your heart quicken. Milena was a woman who did many wrong things, but that baby was innocent, and you murdered his mother as if she was worth nothing to him. Your misstep caused this.

You took your sniper along with the one Ghost left behind and rushed towards him, your boots hard on the concrete roof.

Ghost muttered to himself, his voice low in self-deprecation and not enough for you to hear. “Almost murdered a child.”

You stalk behind the soldier, analyzing his hands by his side, and his feet dragging against the dirt. His head was dipped on, so all you could see was the lower end of his mask. You were conflicted whether or not to jog a little closer so you could approach him or give the space he needed. You dismissed the latter option, instead stalking closer to him.

“Sir.” You tried jogging closer, but one step of this man’s leg was the same as you taking several steps. “Ghost.” You try calling out again and this time he stops walking, but doesn’t turn around. You finally reach his side and tilt your head up to look at the man. “About back there—” “Not a word.” He turns to face your body and looks down. You both look eye to eye. Ghost could see the hesitancy in your eyes and you could see the guilt seethe in his. “Call in Price. Take the baby to a nearby village or city and put him up for adoption. That’s the end of it. We killed Milena. We killed a Konni contractor.”

“But we didn’t kill Mikhail. That baby was Mikhail.” “That baby is innocent.” He stomped closer to you, which caused a strain in the back of your neck. You lowered your neck to find some sort of ease, and all you could see with this line of vision was his chest heaving up and down. “Call in Price.” He sighed. “Please.”

His plea came out into a small whimper and you couldn't help but to oblige with a nod of your head and a “Yes sir.”

The both of you were transported back to base and this time, you couldn’t relish in the usual silence. Everyone was typically tired after missions, only sparing a couple of words during the exfil which none of you in the 141 would ever mind. But this time, the silence is suffocating with the shared guilt between you two instead of a silence that should be graced with solace after a rough mission.

You sat across Ghost, his hands resting in his lap and his head down. The window from the helicopter radiated at the perfect angle so you could see the brown of his eyes. You always thought of Ghost as a fixed individual. You could tell that his efforts as a soldier paid off. Ghost took off his gloves, setting them to the side. You stared at his hands, and saw a fine strip of his tattoo sleeve peeking out of his left sleeve. Ghost grumbled, keeping his head down only moving his eyes upwards to look past his eyelashes.

“I couldn’t do it,” Ghost speaks up, his voice hushed in shame. Ghost moves to fiddle with his fingers, an explicit sign of his nervousness. He didn’t understand why he’s starting to open up at this moment, but he’s glad he’s doing it with a woman like you.

“It was a baby. That’s okay.” You shake your head gently in a dismissal of his shame. “You have a heart, Simon. That proved it.”

Simon felt his hands twitch at the use of his real name, the first time you ever used it, “A cold one.” He retorts and chuckles lightly, a selfish attempt to lighten up the situation he was in.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Your voice was filled with genuine honesty and your eyes showed the pride you held for your superior.

“That means a lot coming from you, Sarge.” Ghost may be a clinical soldier with ruthless technique, but today you understood that under the army gear, the weaponry, and the skull-face mask, there’s Simon.

^ mind u this is when i started writing this bro like LMAO WHY DID I STALL SO LONG

~ yours truly, rani ♥︎

#simon ghost riley #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley cod #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #tf 141 scenarios #tf 141 x reader #modern warfare #x reader

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unconventional-user · 2 days ago

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Rooftop Remarks

Summary: Simon’s taking a cigarette break on the rooftop of base. Another soldier happens to do the same, without a cigarette.

Warning(s): swearing, military inaccuracies, hint of survivors' guilt, implied suicide attempt(?) Not really, NOT PROOFREAD

Word count: 1.4k

Idk bro i got the sudden urge to write. Might be bad, I don't really know lol. I found comfort in it. Plus I like the idea of Ghost not knowing how to comfort. I'm currently waiting to get my blood drawn.

* This work was created by @unconventional-user, no re-post(s), you may, however, re-blog. Thank you. *

The wind seemed harsh as it screamed.

The oncoming nightfall seemed to ignore the futile cries.

No matter how loud, its message would never be conveyed.

Nonetheless, Ghost would remain on the rooftop of the base. After all, he desperately needed the cigarette.

“...Fuckin’ hell…” he blew the smoke out from his lips, watching as the wind dragged it away. Good. He would be there a while.

It was rare he’d get a break after such a grueling mission, especially one on the cusp of being what the Brit would consider an ‘absolute shit-show’.

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. It was supposed to be a simple recce mission. The ultranationalist group held the location on Makarov. The mission was to scope out and see if there was any potential lead to capture.

It was supposed to be minimal effort.

But when one of the soldiers stepped on a hidden landmine, that’s how the task force discovered they’d been expected by the enemy.

Although the team managed to recover something, it wasn't the amount of details they'd been hoping for.

A couple of lives were taken.

Hell, it wasn’t even in the books that lives would have been lost at all.

Releasing a tired sigh, Ghost lifted the mask up a bit more and took another drag.

However, he quickly pulled it down after hearing the door open.

The sound of scraping boots was an obvious indication. He smacked a certain soldier upside the head this morning because of it: ‘Lift those bloody feet, will ya?’

Without turning, he motioned with his hand to the 20 pack in his hand. Ghost would figure you’d need it.

“I don’t smoke, lieutenant..”

“Neither do I.” Ghost spoke.

“I’m serious…” and yet, you carefully plucked a cigarette from the box. Muttering a small ‘thank you’, you headed towards the ladder to climb back down.

“Oi.” Ghost turned his head back, “You just popped ‘round to nick something from me?”

Well that was unexpected. You shook your head, “No, sir. I just figured you’d want to be alone. So you don’t have to…”

Gesturing to his mask, it seems he understood you.

Ghost didn't care, and called you back with a wave of his arm, “Can’t exactly puff without a lighter. Or were you thinking of finding a bin for it?”

You didn't say anything. He pulled out the lighter and lit the cigarette between your fingers.

“Thank you.”

His silence spoke back. He took notice of the way your eye bags were a bit swollen and wet. Your hair was a bit frazzled, and overall posture was slouched.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t see the exhaustion on you. Not just physically, but mentally too.

And Ghost knew better than most when to keep his mouth shut. You were here to find solace. No doubt from today’s clusterfuck of a mission.

A moment passed by, and you hadn't even touched the cigarette to your lips. It burned slowly, the smoke acting as an imaginary barrier between both of you.

As Ghost finished his, stubbing it to the ground with his boot, he said nothing as he turned. Ready to head back, he’s had enough peace.

As the door handle was grabbed, your voice interrupted.

“Did you think the mission would be such a disaster?”

Ghost’s grip loosened on the handle. Speaking no words, he simply stayed put.

It was a breathless chuckle that made him turn around.

The grip on your cigarette was sharp. Its red embers burned the fingers tightly around it, albeit the fist remaining clenched.

Releasing a shaking breath, you felt numb. Not even the bubbling sensation of pain in your hand could make you break out of the trance.

The main horror upheld all thoughts at the moment. You had lost people on that mission. Lost friends. Lost brothers, sisters. Yet you're the “lucky” one that made it out survived.

It hadn't hit until everything was over. And now here you are, on the same rooftop your lieutenant also deemed safe to get away from it all.

Now you just need him to go away so you can break down.

Unfortunately, he heard and grudgingly walked back.

He wasn't one to comfort at all. In fact, he’d never be picked to do so. But you were a soldier in need.

Plus, he wasn't a complete arsehole either.

Ghost didn’t even know where to start. Simply standing beside you didn’t feel adequate enough. So he simply did what he did best.

“Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

“..Huh?” Confused, you turned to the lieutenant.

“Scares the shit out of their dogs.”

There was an awkward silence between one another, and it wasn't because of the awkward joke that was made.

It was because he was making an attempt.

An attempt at comfort. Something he typically does not do.

Scratch that. He does not do that at all.

Or maybe Ghost noticed your demeanor and decided to act accordingly.

Regardless, it felt quite peculiar.

Facing him, you said nothing, as he faced the view and tried again.

“What has two legs and bleeds?”

Brows furrowed, you simply shrugged, holding back a smile. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

But he did.

“...I don’t know. What?”

“Half a dog.”

The silence was loud between the two. Yet it was broken by the low sigh you let out.

“Y’know, about that mission earlier,”

Ghost remained quiet.

“It made me realize…or fully realize at least,”

He faced forward again.

“How luck I am to be alive.”

If that didn’t confuse the lieutenant already, the way you stepped forward towards the ledge surely did. He remained vigilant of you nonetheless, making sure you didn't go closer.

“When we got ambushed…” you started, “I was not expecting to step on a landmine.”

What? It was comical the way Ghost’s eyes had opened. So it was you. He wasn't close enough to witness the scene. He’d just been told, ‘We've landed in the killzone!’ and all hell broke loose.

“I was fully expecting to be gone in the blink of an eye. I had accepted my death, it's just a part of the job, right? I was thinking that at least my comrades, my friends would be able to pass the news on to my parents, y’know?”

He said nothing and let you continue on.

“To my suprise, it didn't happen..” Ghost instinctively reached out as you stepped closer to the ledge. His arm is now grabbing your bicep. “I felt someone shove me to the ground.”

Your voice became shaky, you looked down at your feet, not even noticing the grip. Suppressing a sniffle, you refused to break down in front of your superior.

Not that the lieutenant would say anything.

“When I turned around, who would’ve thought…”

You mentioned a last name that rang a bell. It was one of the soldiers he saw the explosion come from and emit chaos. They must’ve pushed you, saved you from death.

Something he will be in their debt for.

“I lost so many people.” So did he.

“I lost so many friends. So many brothers.”

He feels awful for thinking it, but thankfully he did not.

“And the crazy thing is…that I was supposed to die with them,”

Finally being able to breathe properly, you gulped a breath of air as the tears finally fell. The silent sobs were covered by biting your fist.

You felt a squeeze on your forearm, “So, why didn’t I? Why did they save me?”

He felt uncomfortable, but decided to push anyway, “Don't matter why.”

You stared back at him, waiting to see if he would speak again. He didn't. But it’s ok.

Deep down, you knew he meant well, even if he struggled to show it.

Looking down, you noticed his arm still gripping your bicep. You gave him a look, to which he just responded by gesturing toward the ledge. “Step back.”

In doing so, he pulled out his pack again.

This time, you took another cigarette with the intention of smoking it.

Let me know honest thoughts and feedback, I got tired so i ended it abruptly lol.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader #fanfic #reader fanfiction #fanfiction

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 days ago

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Acceptance Blues

Wanda Maximoff x Reader (Avengers High)

This wasn’t what Wanda had anticipated. The letter held tightly in her hands. You and Wanda had planned to attend the same university together. You basically had the rest of your lives planned out.

And yet the university denied her admission.

Her head was spinning. The color had drained from her face. She could feel her heart palpitating from the mere thought of it all. What if you and her weren’t meant to be? Would someone else find your interest? Would a long distance relationship be the end of you and her?

Her track athlete of a brother Pietro broke the silence, “what’s wrong sestra?”

She simply pushed the letter into his hands. Pietro gave it a quick read and then sighed, “that’s their loss. You are the most amazing magic user in Avengers High”

“But (Y/N) and I were supposed to be attend that school together!” She argued.

Pietro put a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder, “life doesn’t always turn out the way you wish but…a love like yours, it may have to go thru some trials. But it’s strong enough to last”

“You really think so, bratok?”

“Yeah…and if not, I’ll punch (Y/N) for breaking your heart” he gives his sister a playful wink.

Later that day, as you and Wanda were leaving Avengers High, your favorite witch was uneasy.

“D-Detka,” she looked to you anxiously, “I need to tell you something”

“Sure thing, my Slytherin,” you gave her a soft smile, “what’s up?”

She guides you to a nearby park bench and the two of you take a seat.

“This is hard for me to say” she takes both of your hands, “you know I love you right?”

“O-Of course” you replied a little uncertain.

“I…” she tries to accentuate, “I didn’t get into UCLA”

“What?”

“Please don’t hate me! I know we wanted to go together there but I didn’t get in. The closest I got was UC Santa Barbara” Wanda begins to rattle on.

You quickly silence her with a kiss, you gently cup her cheek and hold her close.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you smile at her. “I got accepted to both UCLA and UC Santa Barbara”

“Really?”

“Where you go, I go…my Slytherin” you lean your forehead against hers.

“My Hufflepuff” she cries as she kisses you tenderly.

You just sat there on that park bench, holding one another and enjoying your time together. She was yours and you were all hers.

No matter what happened, no matter what distance, you and your scarlet witch would always find a way thru life together.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @aloneodi @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @marveldcfandom @moonlit-imagines @multi-fandom-enjoyer @ma1egamer @russianredassassin @texaswolf23 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @idkwhatever580 @iamnicodemus @blackwitchsworld @wombatking @scarletquake-n7

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #avengers high #high school #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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gracie-eilish · 2 days ago

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oh my my my…{part two}

an: i felt weird writing smut for this so i made it a sleepy night/morning after situation! you can imagine this as post smut or not!! whatever fits your fancy:))) my other part two coming out soon may or may not contain smut…😏👀🤓 part one

🌙💚✨🎄🥂

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the holiday lights outside, their golden shimmer casting gentle patterns across the walls. The air smelled faintly of pine and the lingering warmth of Billie’s skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt weightless.

Billie’s fingers traced slow, lazy patterns on your back, her touch featherlight as she hummed something soft under her breath. Your cheek was pressed against her bare chest, rising and falling with her steady breaths, and every now and then, she’d press a lingering kiss to the top of your head, her lips warm against your hair.

“Mm,” she sighed contentedly, her hand drifting up to tangle in your hair. “Finally.”

You let out a sleepy hum, tilting your head up to look at her. “Finally what?”

Billie smirked, her blue eyes twinkling with something mischievous. “Finally got you all to myself,” she murmured, trailing her fingers down your spine. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

Your breath hitched slightly, but before you could answer, she rolled you over just enough to hover above you, her weight deliciously warm against yours. She studied your face, her gaze softer now, like she was committing every inch of you to memory. Then she dipped down, brushing the tip of her nose against yours before pressing the slowest, most unhurried kiss to your lips.

You sighed into her, melting completely as her hands smoothed over your waist, pulling you closer. Your kisses were slow and teasing, lips barely parting before you came back for more, giggling into each other’s mouths like we had all the time in the world. Billie nudged your nose with hers, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re smiling,” you mumbled against her mouth.

Billie chuckled, letting her forehead rest against yours. “’Cause I’m happy,” she admitted. “Aren’t you?”

“More than I can put into words,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along her jaw.

She beamed at you, stealing another kiss—then another, and another—until you were giggling into her lips, your chest tightening with something so warm it was almost overwhelming.

But then the weight of reality crept in, settling like a stone in your stomach. You shifted slightly, chewing on your lip, and Billie immediately noticed.

Her brows furrowed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitated before sighing, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “It’s just… Claire.” You turned your head to look at her. “She’s my best friend, and you’re her sister, and we just…” Your face warmed as you gestured vaguely between you. “I don’t know how she’s gonna feel about this.”

Billie let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “You really think she doesn’t know how you feel about me?”

You frowned, “What are you talking about?”

She smirked, propping herself up on her elbow. “Claire’s known for years, baby. She told me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God. That’s so embarrassing.”

Billie laughed, prying your hands away so she could kiss your knuckles. “It’s adorable.” She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “Truth is… I think I’ve liked you for a long time, too. I just—” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Tour, college, life… I kept pushing it down, telling myself it was nothing. That I was just being stupid.”

Your heart clenched. “Billie…”

“But then I’d come home, and you’d be there, and it’d hit me all over again,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “So this time, before I came back, I talked to Claire.”

Your eyes widened. “You what?”

Billie bit her lip, watching you carefully. “I told her I might have feelings for you.”

“Might?” You echoed, arching a brow.

Billie grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Okay, I definitely have feelings for you.” Her fingers traced the side of your face, her voice softer now. “Claire just wants you to be happy. She didn’t say anything about, y’know…” Her smirk deepened as she gestured to the bed. “This part. So maybe let’s keep that between us for now.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart swelling with relief. “So… what now?” you asked hesitantly.

Billie tilted her head, studying you. “I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing,” she said, her thumb grazing over your jaw. “I want something real with you. If you’ll have me.”

You didn’t even have to think. “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, Billie,” you whispered. “Of course, I’ll have you.”

Her eyes softened, and then she was kissing you again—slower this time, like she was savoring every second. You melted into her, your fingers tangling in her hair as she pulled you impossibly close.

Eventually, you sank back into the sheets, your limbs tangled as Billie hummed softly, pressing sleepy kisses to your temple. “You’re not gonna overthink things again, are you?” she teased, her voice thick with exhaustion.

You smiled against her collarbone. “No promises.”

Billie chuckled, tucking you under her chin as she pulled the blanket over you. “S’fine. I’ll just have to distract you.”

You hummed, already half-asleep as she ran her fingers down your back, her touch lulling you into a tranquil haze.

She pressed one last kiss to your forehead, her voice barely above a whisper. “Go to sleep, angel. We’ll talk to Claire in the morning.”

🌙💚✨🎄🥂

The first thing you registered when you woke up was warmth. Billie’s arms were snug around you, her steady breath tickling the top of your head, and the soft weight of the blankets kept you cocooned in a perfect little world of your own.

You blinked sleepily, taking in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. The air still smelled faintly of pine, and in the quiet of the house, you could hear faint shuffling downstairs—Claire, probably up early making coffee.

Billie stirred beside you, letting out a sleepy hum as she nuzzled deeper into your hair. “Mmm, no waking up yet,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Too comfy.”

You smiled, shifting to look up at her. Her blue eyes were still heavy-lidded, her face soft and relaxed, a few strands of messy dark hair sticking out in different directions.

“Good morning to you, too,” you murmured, brushing a strand from her forehead.

Billie cracked one eye open, smirking as she tilted her chin to kiss your nose. “Morning, angel.”

You sighed, melting into her a little too easily. “We should probably get up,” you said, though you made no move to actually do so.

Billie groaned dramatically, tightening her arms around you. “Or… we could stay in bed all day. I don’t see a problem with that.”

You giggled, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “As tempting as that sounds, I think Claire would hunt us down if we don’t show our faces soon.”

Billie sighed, finally releasing you, though she stole one last lazy kiss before rolling onto her back. “Fine, but if she makes us help with decorations before coffee, I’m walking out.”

You laughed, swatting her arm before slipping out of bed. Billie groaned again, stretching with a yawn before reluctantly following. You got dressed in comfortable sweaters and socks, the air in the house chilly enough that Billie took full advantage, pulling you into her arms at every opportunity, murmuring something about needing your warmth.

As you made your way toward the kitchen, Billie suddenly paused. “I’ll be right there,” she said, brushing her lips over your temple. “Bathroom.”

You nodded, continuing on your way—only to be ambushed the second you stepped into the kitchen.

Claire practically tackled you with a squeal, her arms wrapping around you so tightly you stumbled back against the counter. “OH MY GOD,” she gasped, squeezing you like you might disappear.

You let out a breathless laugh, hugging her back. “Good morning to you, too?”

She pulled back just enough to cup your face, pressing a loud, exaggerated kiss to your cheek before laughing. “I knew it! I knew this was finally gonna happen!”

Your face warmed instantly. “Claire—”

“Oh, don’t you Claire me,” she scolded playfully, shaking you slightly in excitement. “Do you have any idea how long you two have been making heart eyes at each other from across the room?” She groaned dramatically. “Years, dude. Years. It was painful.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Oh my God, was it really that obvious?”

Claire laughed, peeling your hands away. “To literally everyone.” Her grin softened, and she squeezed your arms. “But seriously… you two care about each other so much. And if this means I get to have you as my sister one day? Best thing ever.”

Your heart swelled, and before you could stop yourself, you were hugging her again. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“I do know that,” Claire teased, ruffling your hair. “But it’s nice to hear.”

Before you could retaliate, a familiar voice cut in from the doorway.

“Well, this is cute.”

You turned to see Billie leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a soft smirk playing on her lips. Her gaze flickered between the two of you, something fond shining in her eyes. “My two favorite girls,” she mused, pushing off the frame and strolling over.

Claire grinned, looking between you two with a knowing expression. “I’ll let you two be gross together,” she teased, grabbing her coffee. “But don’t think I won’t be grilling you both later.”

With a wink, she strolled off, leaving Billie and you standing there in the quiet hum of the kitchen.

Billie tilted her head, stepping closer until our socks brushed against the tile floor. “So,” she murmured, her hands finding your waist. “That was cute.”

You rolled my eyes, but your heart stuttered when she dipped her head, her nose grazing your cheek.

“My little sister and my…” Billie trailed off, her smirk shifting into something softer. Her fingers flexed against your sweater, like she was considering her next words carefully.

Your breath caught. “Your…?”

Her blue eyes searched yours, the teasing edge in her voice fading into something real. “Are you my girlfriend?” she asked quietly. “Because if you wanna be… you can be.”

The breath you had been holding finally released, and your lips curled into a smile. “I want to be,” you admitted, your fingers curling around the fabric of her sweater.

Billie beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners before she kissed you—sweet and slow, like she was savoring the moment.

You sighed against her lips, already feeling a little lightheaded. “You’re so smug right now, aren’t you?” you mumbled.

Billie chuckled, kissing your jaw. “Maybe a little.”

You huffed, but your fake annoyance melted instantly when she rested her forehead against yours, her thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips.

“Merry almost Christmas, angel,” she whispered.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Merry almost Christmas, lovey.”

And with Billie’s arms wrapped around you and Claire’s love and support for you both, you couldn’t remember ever feeling more at home.

#gracie eilish #billie eilish #wlw #fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie x you #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish smut #billie x reader #billie eilish x smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie x y/n #billie x fem reader

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vesseloflukola · 2 days ago

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Can we give some grace?

I know a lot of Lukola fans are not super happy with Nicola right now.

The fact that she took Jake Dunn to the BAFTA TV Craft Awards nominees’ party on Thursday and tried to play up that the two of them were a happy couple rubbed a lot of fans the wrong way. It rubbed me the wrong way as well.

I think fans are especially upset because taking Jake to a party that was for her as a solo nominee seemed to not only take away from her time to shine as a nominee, but it also seemed to go against statements she has made in the past about not wanting to be known as someone’s girlfriend.

With that being said, I am choosing to give Nicola some grace. She is human, and human’s make mistakes.

I googled “giving someone grace” and this is what I found:

“Giving someone grace means offering them kindness, patience, and understanding, especially when they've made mistakes or fallen short. It involves forgiveness, compassion, and a willingness to see them with understanding. Essentially, it's about treating others with generosity, even when they may not deserve it.”

Nicola’s life has changed SO much in the last 2 years. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to go from just a normal person living their life, who can do normal things, to someone who is famous, being recognized (and even followed) and scrutinized for every move they make.

Yes, she chose the career she is in, but there was no way for her to know how famous she would become or how it would affect her. This is something relatively new that she is navigating.

Just because we are fans of hers does not entitle us to know every part of her life. Yes, we saw the love and connection between Nic and Luke. Yes, many of us believe Nic and Luke could be married with a baby. The thing is…as much as we would like confirmation from them, we are NOT entitled to that information. That is information that they get to share if and when they are ready to.

I know with all of the perceived misdirection, PR stunts, and possible NDA’s going on, it is easy to get weary as a fan.

I am completely disheartened by the amount of comments I have read of people saying they have stopped following Nic over this and even encouraging others to do the same. These people seem to want to “teach Nic a lesson” or to “put her in her place” because they feel she has the fame she does because of them.

I think if a person can stop following a celebrity over something so callus, they were “fair-weathered” fans to begin with, and who needs fans like that?

I also find it odd for someone to stop following a celebrity and yet continue to go read and comment on their fan blogs, trying to sway others to stop following them. If I no longer care for a celebrity, I do not spend any more of my time thinking of them or talking about them. That makes absolutely no sense to me.

If someone needs to take a break from this fandom, do so. I know it can get intense. However, to spew hate is unacceptable to me.

I don’t think anyone has stopped to ask if Nicola even wanted the fame that she has achieved. To me, it seems like she just wanted to have steady work doing a job that she loves and is good at.

I do think she has enjoyed the ability her fame has given her to share the platforms she is passionate about. I also think she has enjoyed the brand deals and projects she has received because of her fame. I just don’t think she has enjoyed fame itself. To me it seems like she enjoyed being able to do things in anonymity when in public with her friends and family.

Essentially, we can speculate about Nicola’s and Luke’s lives as much as we want to, but none of us really know the details of their daily lives. We do not know what is going on bts between the two of them and exactly how Antonia and Jake fit in. Only they know the full details of everything going on and I believe they are trying their best to navigate a, most likely, tricky situation.

I enjoy trying to make an educated guess of what is going on. I don’t think it is harmful to speculate or try to piece things together. I just think we all need to realize that our speculations could be wrong and remember that we don’t actually know them.

I plan to continue to support both Nicola and Luke in any upcoming projects and to celebrate their successes. I plan to continue to speculate and share my opinions here on my blog. I also plan to try to give them both grace when I see them do things that I don’t like or that don’t make sense to me.

I hope (both for the fans, but also for their happiness and sanity) that they do share good news with us all soon. Until then, I will continue to sit here and cheer them on.

#my own opinion

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spr1ngbunnypvrin · 3 days ago

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WARNING: This post may be edited and some opinions/perspectives may be changed because this thing has been sitting in my draft for a long time, and now my ass finally decided to post it. This is just a silly post about William x reader and something more than that.

William might have abandoned that perfect businessman persona, but it doesn't mean he's completely erased it from his mind. It lingers—like a ghost, a fragment of something that was never real to begin with, yet somehow feels more real than the hollow existence he now leads.

Sometimes William—whether consciously or unconsciously—misses the person he used to be, or at least the image of who he once was.

Or worse, the image of who he pretended to be.

Because that version of himself—the brilliant, ambitious businessman, the man who could captivate an entire room with his presence—was a carefully curated illusion.

A mask. One he wore so well that sometimes even he believed in it. And now? Now it’s nothing more than a distant memory. A ghost lingering at the edges of his mind.

And sometimes, when he's lost in thought—when exhaustion pulls him under in the quiet hours of the night, when his mind drifts without his permission—he sees that version of himself again.

A vague reflection.

A shadow of his former self, still standing tall in the back of his mind.

That charming, theatrical, brilliant man. The one who could command a room with a well-placed smile, who spoke in carefully measured words, whose presence alone was magnetic.

And the worst part? That version of him laughs.

Standing in the shadows. Smiling. Mocking.

"Look at you now." "What a disappointment." "You used to be something, to have ambition, didn’t you? Used to build something... an empire. Used to inspire fear, respected and admiration all the same. But now? Just some bitter, washed-up man playing pretend in the filth."

William doesn’t reply. He doesn’t try to fight it. Because the voice in his head isn’t wrong.

Maybe sometimes—just for a fleeting second—he misses that man. Misses the power. Misses the control. Misses the thrill of being at the top, of playing a game where everyone else was just a pawn on his board.

That version of himself, that mask he once wore so well. Maybe there’s an ache, an echo of what it felt like to be on top before everything came crumbling down. But he doesn’t let himself dwell.

But then he reminds himself—it was never real.

Because he knows, deep down, that man never really existed in the first place.

That version of him, it never truly existed. It was just another lie, another role he played. And now, stripped of everything, he no longer has the energy to pretend.

So he tells himself it doesn’t matter.

And yet, in the quiet, when no one is around to see—he still hears the laughter of a man he no longer is.

HEARR ME OUT AGAIN... I think he still has that annoying smirk like his old self but looks more tired, as quoted in the novel The Silver Eyes "...the man in the picture was sallow and thin, his expression unpleasant, as if he had forgotten how to smile. He looked like a poor facsimile of himself. Or maybe, Clay thought, he looked like he had dropped his disguise."

That smirk—the one that used to be so sharp, so effortless, so full of controlled confidence— it's still there. But it’s different now.

Once, it was a carefully crafted tool, a practiced expression meant to intimidate, charm, or unsettle. It was never just a smirk—it was a weapon.

Now?

Now, it's tired. It lingers for a second too long, like muscle memory rather than intent. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, doesn’t carry the same weight it once did.

It’s the ghost of what it used to be.

And those silver eyes of his? Once, they were piercing—calculating, watching everything, always five steps ahead. Now, they look... hollow.

Not empty, but worn. Like the shine has dulled, like the years have finally caught up to him, like the man he once was is still standing there but draped in something much heavier.

And maybe—just maybe—Clay was right.

Maybe this is the real him.

Or maybe this is just what’s left.

The worst part isn’t just that it was a mask—it’s that it was a mask he desperately wanted to make real. (is the core of what makes William so gut-wrenching as a character. Because he’s not just someone who fooled others—he tried to fool himself. And failed.)

At some point, William truly wanted to become that man. The ambitious businessman. The genius innovator. The one who built something lasting, something greater than himself. He had a vision, a goal, and he pushed everything—everyone—aside in his relentless pursuit of it.

But the downfall? That was inevitable.

All the power, all the control, all the success—it was all built on a crumbling foundation. A house of cards, stacked too high, too fragile to last. And when it finally came crashing down, so did he.

Now, as Dave Miller, he’s free.

No expectations. No burdens. No empire to maintain, no legacy to uphold. He’s just a washed-up man in a dead-end job, a ghost living under a borrowed name.

And yet—this freedom is its own prison.

Because “Dave Miller” isn’t real either. He’s just another escape. Another way to avoid facing the wreckage of what he’s done, what he’s lost, what he’s become.

It’s pathetic. He knows it’s pathetic. He’s no longer powerful, no longer feared, no longer the man he once aspired to be.

And worst of all?

Deep down, some part of him knows he’s still running.

And oh, he absolutely does slip into that old persona sometimes.

It's rare, but there are moments when the old William Afton—the smooth, theatrical, charming bastard—peeks through Dave Miller’s tired, deadpan exterior. He doesn’t do it intentionally; it just happens. Maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s habit, maybe it’s something deeper—something that never really left him.

If you hit him with a question that’s too personal—something about his past, something that makes him uncomfortable—his first instinct is to cover it up. And what better way to do that than slipping back into that perfectly rehearsed mask of old William Afton?

"Oh, darling, you wound me. Here I thought we were just two souls passing through this dreadful existence together, and now you’re prying into my tragic backstory?”

It’s all flourish, exaggerated theatrics meant to make you roll your eyes and move on. But the way he delivers it? It��s too smooth, too natural. That’s not Dave Miller talking. That’s someone else entirely.

And if you don’t let it slide? If you press him on it?

The act drops immediately. His expression hardens, his voice flattens, and suddenly, it’s Dave again.

"Tch. Forget it."

Dave always has a sharp tongue, but when he’s in a particularly good (or mischievous) mood, he gets theatrical. He leans into it, slipping into that old, showman-like charisma without even realizing it.

"Oh, come now, love, surely you don’t expect me to do actual work today? Have a heart—what would the world do without my undeniable charm to brighten this miserable place?”

Or if he’s winning an argument with you? Oh, he gets cocky.

"You see, my dear, this is why I’m the brains of our little operation. But don’t worry—I’ll allow you to bask in my brilliance from time to time.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye, something smug yet genuinely amused, as if, for a moment, he forgets himself. And when he realizes what he’s doing? He shuts it down immediately. A scoff, a roll of his eyes, a grumbled, “Yeah, whatever.” But for a second? He was someone else.

It’s one of those late shifts. The kind where everything is quiet, the two of you stuck in some mundane task—maybe fixing something, maybe just sitting around waiting for the night to end.

And then, somehow, you make him laugh.

Not a scoff, not a sarcastic chuckle—a real laugh.

And just for a moment—just for a second—he leans back, throws his hands up, and becomes that man again.

"Ah, see? That’s why I keep you around. Well, that and I do so enjoy our little chats—your company is just so... riveting.”

The ease, the smoothness, the dramatic tilt of his voice—it all slips back into place so effortlessly. Too effortlessly.

And then he catches himself. His expression stiffens, his smirk fades, and just like that, Dave Miller is back.

"Forget I said anything."

Old William Afton was a man who could control a room, who could make people listen, who could intimidate without ever raising his voice. And when Dave gets truly, truly angry? That version of him resurfaces in full force.

Gone is the sluggish, indifferent demeanor. Suddenly, his words are sharp. Cold. Precise. His voice carries weight—real weight, like he’s used to being listened to.

"You really don’t want to test me right now."

The way he carries himself changes, too. He doesn’t slump, doesn’t drag his feet—he stands taller, shoulders squared, like he’s reclaiming some part of himself he thought was long gone.

And then, once the anger fades, he hates it. Because it reminds him of who he used to be—who he tried so hard to bury.

And if you notice? If you point out that something about him felt different in that moment?

He just mutters, “Drop it.”

Maybe moment when he lets his guard down (and doesn’t realize it until it’s too late)..There are nights when the weight of everything—the past, the present, the suffocating monotony of what his life has become—settles too heavily on his shoulders.

And those are the nights when, without thinking, he slips back into old habits.

Maybe it’s the way he talks to you—smoother, more confident. Maybe it’s the way he gestures—more expressive, more like the man he once pretended to be. Maybe it’s the way his voice softens—less snide, less bitter, almost... wistful.

And then, suddenly, he realizes.

Realizes he’s talking too much. Being too open. Sounding too much like him.

And just like that—the walls go back up.

"Never mind. Forget it."

And that’s the thing about Dave Miller.

No matter how much he tries to kill the ghost of who he was, sometimes, that ghost refuses to stay buried.

It's funny and ironic, he doesn’t need to "try" to be William Afton. He just is. After all

No matter how much he slouches, how much he tries to act detached, how much he plays up the tired, cynical employee act—that theatrical flair, that controlled charisma, that sharp intelligence—it never really leaves him. It’s in the way he smirks like he’s always one step ahead. The way he speaks—dry, sardonic, but always with a deliberate choice of words. The way his eyes hold something knowing, something calculating, even when he looks bored out of his mind.

He’s not "pretending" to be Dave Miller. He’s hiding as Dave Miller.

And the funniest part? Even when he stops trying so hard to be someone else, he’s still very much William Afton underneath.

As I mentioned earlier in the section above, the voices, the memories, the thoughts in his head that he has to go through, avoid, or confront...

But what if that voice didn’t just mock him about his downfall?

What if, one day, as he's lost in thought—staring blankly at his reflection, slumped at his usual spot—the voice sneers at something else entirely?

"You care too much." "Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic." "Tell me, William—what exactly do you think you’re doing? You were never meant to care. They should have been nothing more than a means to an end. A pawn. A tool. And yet, here you are, fretting over them like some softhearted fool. It's almost... adorable. Almost."

He doesn’t answer. Because he doesn’t need to.

Because, deep down, he knows.

Knows that you were never supposed to mean anything. That you were supposed to be just another disposable person in his life, someone he could manipulate if needed, someone he should’ve discarded the moment you got too close.

And yet—you’re still here.

And worse? He lets you be.

Why?

Is it just convenience? No, it can't be that simple. Something keeps him from pushing you away. Something in the way you challenge him, in the way you aren't afraid to push back, in the way you aren’t fooled by the mask—but still stay anyway.

And isn’t that the most dangerous thing of all?

Because if there’s one rule William Afton has always lived by, one truth that even his ghosts can’t deny—

Attachment is a weakness.

And yet, somehow, you’ve become an exception.

Perhaps, one day, one day... One day he will have to choose between two paths: Staying with you, letting go of the past, everything he has tried to build, and becoming a "new" person who is no longer "William Afton"...The second is to return to the "old path": the bitterness, suffering, jealousy, and lingering hatred trapped in a loop, continuing the path he aspires to become the "thing" he desires.

This is the kind of choice that William Afto—no, Dave Miller—would never want to confront. But eventually, he will. And when he does?

He will hesitate.

For the first time in a long, long time, he will hesitate. Because the two paths before him are not just choices—they are condemnations. No matter which one he picks, he loses something.

The First Path: Staying With You, Letting Go of William Afton

To stay with you would mean to let go.

Not just of his past, but of everything he has built. The schemes, the power, the carefully constructed empire of control and manipulation. It would mean giving up William Afton entirely—becoming something else. Someone else. No longer the man he has always been, but a man who is simply… lost.

And that terrifies him.

Because if he strips away the ambition, the vengeance, the carefully cultivated identity… what is left?

Would you still want him if he was just a man and not a monster? Would he even know how to be a person, rather than a shadow of what once was? Could he live with the weight of everything he’s done if he stopped running from it?

Could he forgive himself?

Would you forgive him?

…And worse: Would he even deserve it?

The Second Path: Returning to His Old Ways

To go back means safety. Not peace, but familiarity.

He knows how to be William Afton. He knows how to be cruel, cunning, relentless. It’s easier to keep chasing ghosts, to sink into that obsession, to let himself drown in the bitterness of what he lost and what he still craves. Hate and agony is a fire that keeps him warm, after all.

But if he walks that road again, he knows he’ll lose you.

And that thought stings more than it should.

Because you are the one thing in this world that has genuinely, truly seen him—and somehow, despite everything, despite knowing who he is (or at least, the pieces he’s let you see)… you are still here.

And if he lets you go, if he throws you away like he’s thrown everything else away, if he kills that last ember of something real—

Then maybe even he won’t be able to recognize himself anymore.

So What Would He Do?

William Afton is a man of patterns. Cycles. Loops.

But Dave Miller? Dave Miller is tired.

There’s a part of him—a very small part, buried deep beneath all the cynicism, the exhaustion, the self-destruction—that wants to believe he could stay. That he could carve out something different for himself, that maybe, just maybe, there’s still a way out.

But does he believe in that enough?

Or will he take the easier road?

The choice is his.

And for the first time in a long time—

He doesn’t know what he’ll do.

The idea of him building that empire, that persona, that legacy... just to prove to himself he mattered—and it still not being enough? That’s brutal. He could’ve been brilliant, could’ve had something real, but he was always reaching with blood-stained hands, convinced that the world owed him greatness because of his pain and not in spite of it.

And then comes Dave Miller. A name that carries no weight. No expectations, no past. Just a man—tired, bitter, empty.

But even that isn't salvation, right? It’s a purgatory. He’s not free. He’s just hiding. He can't be William Afton again—not without everything crumbling again—but he can't be Dave either, because Dave is nothing. Just a hollow echo of a man trying to forget he's drowning.

And maybe that's what hits the hardest: That even in his quietest moments, when you see him with his smirk softened by exhaustion, with his eyes dulled—not sharp, but ash—you realize:

He never really stopped believing he should've been more.

That the world robbed him. That Henry robbed him. That you, maybe, are all that’s left—and part of him resents you for seeing what he’s become.

But another part?

The part that smirks in the dark and listens when you show concern, even if you pretend not to like him?

That part’s starving for connection.

For absolution.

For someone to say: “I see you, and you’re still here.”

It’s not redemption. Not quite. But it’s real.

And god, that scares him more than anything.

Art credit: @ explosivepearl on Twt/Tumblr/Ins (I don't know, but I like William des in that artist's art style. The devil in me says it's canon, and yes, I believe it!)

No shit, I write a long essay like this is just because of a fanart that keeps lingering in my mind and gives me a thought, I like "digging up" the characteristics of this character, the Novel William Afton ver will always be my favorite ESPECIALLY TSE ONE idc what yall say, its fucking peak asf 💖💖💖 and damn it's really interesting when I can explore and interpret him as if I'm using a microscope, looking into what his brain is like....

William/Dave has something more than that, though his presence is scarce, what he leaves behind, his monologues, thoughts, and actions, are enough to significantly impact the story later on.

#william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #dave miller fnaf #dave miller #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton's characterisic #the silver eyes #fnaf the silver eyes #fnaf novels #rambles #╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢💜✧*̥˚ 🐇 𝓐ℱ𝑇𝓞𝓝 🎭 *̥˚✧ 🔪

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fallloverfic · 1 day ago

Text

Thoughts on To Be Hero X Episode 4: The Commoner

Well that was an interesting episode!

Inertia is still such a wonderful song. So is Paragon, Nice's theme. The different animation styles were again beautiful to watch.

I felt so bad for him. He's so defeated. He wants to help Moon so badly.

Blankster's ability to erase memories coupled with punching stuff hard felt really random until you realize that's his whole thing: erasing the knowledge of his past and hiding the reality (of him putting metal in his gloves). Treeman, I assume, got people to believe him into having those specific abilities by making him essentially a cleaner? I guess? I don't know. How specific abilities are brought about is a bit of a mystery. Maybe possibility manifests and trust encourages it to varying degrees of strength.

It was a bit distracting hearing "iron fist" and trying to not think of the Marvel Comics character lol

Lin Ling's fight is so wonderful. He pushes so hard for the person he cares about. And I do love the strong message that anyone can be a hero. Firefighters (as with Firm Man) don't need superpowers to be heroes: they run into burning buildings and rescue people all the time (sometimes when it's dangerous). Someone standing up to someone else threatening to kill someone doesn't need a superpower to stand up. To win, maybe, depending on the circumstances, but to stand up? To say no? You don't need a superpower for that. You can just be a normal person to look a wrong in the face and go, "No. I won't let this stand. I may die fighting it, but I go down doing what's right." Or, to quote J. Michael Stracznyski in “Amazing Spider-Man” #500, "What matters is you go down fighting… and you go down clean.”

It was also really funny when Lin Ling punched Enlighter's shirt off alkdjladjlaj

The audience reaction is very interesting. They expected rules to be followed here. Why isn't the Commission doing something? That's just an ordinary guy, there are rules here. So it seems like people are aware there's an aspect of performance to this. The actors are the heroes, playing along to the tune set by followers. (Or they just reasonably don't think an ordinary dude can win against a guy with superpowers and expect an actual super-powered person to show up and get Lin Ling out of there and save Moon instead). Makes the fact people can get literally murdered all the weirder, though in reality we do have plenty of people who treat lives like reality television. The number of folks who expect laws to be self-enforcing is, well...

It's nice to know those of us assuming it was a fake Moon were right, though it's funny in a way that even the great Enlighter couldn't find her (assuming he tried, though it was a risky gambit: after all, for all he knew, they could have contacted her to make sure she was safe, though he did have the backup plan of revealing Lin Ling's identity). I guess his abilities were brought to a standstill by hers, in that instance? He can find things but she went to a place where nobody knew her?

I know KFC is really big in China, and maybe this has been shown somewhere else, but I think it's really funny X is a KFC mascot.

He really is that younger hot Colonel Sanders from the Genshin Impact promotion.

The ad art is really beautiful (the official twitter posted a fuller shot of it). If anyone reading this has found the actual art that's used for this without the extra stuff, let me know. Lin Ling looks great.

I'm not averse to the title, either. I get the idea is "he's just some guy". I just think it's kind of funny because that's true for... literally everyone lol I assume some of these folks come from money, which probably helped them get trust (easier to get spotlight if you have the time, resources, and connections), but I think it's funny Lin Ling is getting special focus as the True Commoner lol

I feel so bad for Moon, trapped on a deserted island. How horrible. This show is all just "what if we took some of the worst ways this idea (e.g., wishes worded badly) could be acted out and that was reality?"

I like the new outfit. It looks really pretty. Love me a good white/black aesthetic, and his little hair stripe looks even better outside the ED.

This does raise the question: is Moon's power hers or the gun? Do people believe in the gun? Yes, these heroes use equipment a lot of the time, and people believe they can use the equipment to do magical things, but it's... interesting that Lin Ling (and presumably anyone else who gets a hold of the gun) can use it, too.

Also, why didn't he use the gun earlier lol Was everyone just too worried to think about it? Did they assume it wouldn't work because Moon was right there? The alternative is that everyone believed the fake Moon was Moon so hard that the gun only led to the fake (similar to how people believed Lin Ling was Nice so hard he became Nice) but then why didn't Lin Ling use the portal to get to Enlighter that way, or was he still stopped by the crowd telling him not to go?

But... Moon is dead now. The "preview" we saw in Episode 1 happened to be real, because she's in the same pose, same injury. I guess folks wondering if Nice/Lin Ling could see the future maybe have more crumbs for that. If he can see the future, though, why? Where does that play into his powerset? Again, if powers are random and just a matter of "you get what you get" and then the audience gives enough trust to make them stronger, maybe it's just a minor ability of his. It does beg the question if it's a Lin Ling special ability or if Nice could somehow see the future, too. Lin Ling came up with the anyone can be a hero concept, which seems to be foreshadowing. But what did Nice see if he had the ability? Did he see himself unavoidably bringing about Moon's death and tried to stop it? Or something worse?

It looks like E-Soul murdered Moon. Was he hired by Treeman to clean up loose ends? Mr. Shand wanted to wipe Moon's memories before to protect Lin Ling's identity from being shared, but that seems moot at this point. Or does Moon, who knew about Nice and Moon's fake relationship, still hold value as a target to be removed? Or, if this isn't Treeman, does E-Soul hold animus against Moon and Lin Ling for what's happened? Or is he just targeting the person who might be targeting him to rise in the ranks (given E-Soul is #9 and Lin Ling is #10 in the rankings)? Or is that the alternate version of E-Soul in his character trailer who attacks people or something?

Whatever the case, I'm sad Moon is dead. She wanted her freedom, and yet again, didn't get it, had a chance at finally being rescued... and then... that. Consequences and stakes, I guess?

I am still wondering (like I imagine a lot of people) what this from the director meant:

It actually seems to appear when Enlighter is beating up Lin Ling, especially when he says "Die die die", though the pose is more similar to this one:

Why I'm bringing this up at the end instead of in the part where I was talking about the fight: if Lin Ling snaps after Moon's death in Episode 5, maybe that's where the shot on twitter will pop up, maybe as some kind of flashback to, as folks have theorized, the Hero Smile incident. Although people have commented it's likely trolling from the director in line with previous stuff he did on Link Clink (hence why it's Enlighter who seems to be doing it, not Lin Ling or Nice), Nice is smiling in that image, and if there's some weirdness with Hero Smile's abilities that makes you smile like that, well... Plus, Moon being murdered, especially after all that Lin Ling is done, seems likely to make him snap if anything. And maybe go, "Kill them all."

Anywho. Episode 5 looks to be full of things!

youtube

More thoughts:

Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4 (You are here)

#to be hero x #tbhx #nice #tbhx spoilers #to be hero x spoilers #lin ling #fallfthoughts #enlighter #moon tbhx #Youtube

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