#tbh if anyone agreed to this and actually followed through

[pidgefudge]

never agree to a movie night with me because the "movie" in question will likely be bismuth's ABC video

[caraphernellie]

ephemeral.

for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.

Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.

Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.

Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.

Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.

And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes her—she is not easy to work with.

Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.

But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.

Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing advice—should anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.

You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.

You do not leech on her—sucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.

But god, she almost burnt you out.

Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.

And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.

Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.

'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested.  'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'

It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.

Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.

Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.

Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.

The release party.

Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.

All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.

Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.

Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.

You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'

Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.

It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.

You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.

If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.

Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.

Networking.

It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."

Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.

"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."

"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."

"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"Mhm."

"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."

"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."

She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."

Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.

"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"

Her face doesn't change—her smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.

"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."

"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."

"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."

"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.

Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."

The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.

"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."

"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."

"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."

"I— Stop talking."

Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.

"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."

"Oh."

It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at least—this whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.

"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."

"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.

Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut you—they're perfect. And you hate it.

"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"

"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."

She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?

"You wish."

"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."

"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock too—you've thrown her off balance.

"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."

Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is different—her wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.

But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.

"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."

"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Screw it.

Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warm—incendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.

She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.

"I hate you."

"I don't think that's right."

"No?"

"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."

There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.

"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.

"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."

"Right."

It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.

That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'

"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."

"Mhm."

Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.

And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.

"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.

You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.

"It's clear."

"Thank god."

Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.

"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."

Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.

"Fuck, Abs."

"I know, just be quiet."

Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.

"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."

You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.

Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.

"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"

She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.

"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."

You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."

"Hate me enough to come home with me?"

Ha.

"Of course."

[fayes-fics]

Textual Encounter

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Text fic. Wrong number meet-cute over text.

Warnings: none... this is fluff and humour.

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Fic request fill for Anon (HERE). I kept it fun and fluffy, but yeah, I can see a sequel where they sext. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy! <3

Y/N: Hey Liz, it’s y/n y/l/n. Kindle Spa gave me your mobile. Said you had moved to another salon. I don’t trust anyone else to wax me tbh. Big date this week, kwim 😉 Can I get an appt? I’ll come to you. Doesn’t matter where. 

BB: Errr, I think you have the wrong number…

Y/N: Not Liz?

BB: Nope, Ben here. 

Y/N: Not a waxer, I presume?

BB: I may have waxed lyrical in my time, may even have lit a few candles. Have not waxed anyone no - my own body or anyone else’s. Yet. But I’m game to try anything once...

Y/N: Lol.

BB: Big date, eh?

Y/N: ….Yeah. Not that it's any of your business, stranger Ben.

BB: Fair. BB: Does it hurt?

Y/N: ??

BB: Getting waxed.

Y/N: Oh. Yeah. Like a motherfucker. But you sorta get used to it, tbh. And it’s so much less itchy than shaving regrowth, especially in sensitive areas… Wait, why am I having this convo with a complete stranger?!

BB: We don’t have to be strangers. BB: I’m Ben, 33, London. BB: I have no strong opinions on hair removal methods.

Y/N: lol. K. I’m y/n, 28, also London. Y/N: I, as you can see, do have some opinions.

BB: Hi y/n 👋 BB: I hope you can find Liz. Or someone else to assist with your hair needs.

Y/N: I would like it stated, for the record, I’m not hairy like a troll. I just like to keep things neat.

BB: The lady doth protest too much…

Y/N: You are cheeky for a stranger.

BB: Hey, I thought we agreed. Not strangers. Me Ben. You hairy troll.

Y/N: BLOCK.

BB: Just typing it doesn't work, you know.

Y/N: You should work at the Apple Genius Bar.

BB: Hmm, possibly. I do look good in blue. Or so I've been told.

Y/N: Always glad to provide career counselling.

BB: 🫡

4 days later.

BB: How’d your date go?

Y/N: That's odd. I don’t see a Genius Bar appt in my calendar…?

BB: iCal is a lying bastard. BB: I also assume you now can move faster through water.

Y/N: ??

BB: Waxed smooth like a dolphin…?

Y/N: 😆 Y/N: Entirely none of your business, but yes, actually. Well mostly. I leave some. Why am I telling you this?! Y/N: The guy was such a dud tho, I didn't get to show it off 🙁

BB: Please don't stop on my account. This is just delightful.  BB: I apologise on behalf of all men.

Y/N: For what?

BB: Having 4 sisters, I find the safest answer here is usually… everything, of course.  BB: But specifically, your rubbish date.

Y/N: Apology conditionally accepted. Y/N: 4 sisters?! 

BB: Only conditional? What do I gots to do to make it unconditional? BB: Yeah, I know… I’ve got 3 brothers too. My parents were really into each other. 

Y/N: IDK, serve a mean martini? Y/N: Understatement.

BB: That could be arranged. I took an online mixology course during lockdown.  BB: My sister El declared I'm better than Stanley Tucci. Admittedly, that was after 4 espresso martinis… but I'm taking it. She's opinionated but the best one. They are a weird bunch tho 🤔

Y/N: WOAH WOAH WOAH. That's a bold claim.

BB: Well, there’s only one way to dispute it: try one for yourself…

Y/N: Smooth, Genius Bar, smooth.

BB: I do my best 🤷

1 day later.

Y/N: I can't get my AirPods to work.

BB: You do realise I didn’t actually follow your career advice?

Y/N: Urgh. Inconvenient. What use are you then?

BB: As I said. Cocktails. I’ll try my hand at waxing if you want.

Y/N: Best stick to the day job. Which is…?

BB: Graphic design.

Y/N: Oh, that’s quite cool. 

BB: It pays the bills. You?

Y/N: MI-5

BB: Wow, you're a shit spy.

Y/N: It could be an excellent double bluff…

BB:

Y/N: Oh, we’ve graduated to memes now, have we, Genius Bar?

BB: It was called for.

Y/N: I’ll take it. Purely cos it's a Hemsworth.

BB: I would too, tbh.

Y/N: Bi?

BB: For a Hemsworth? Always.

Y/N: Anyone else?

BB: I’ll keep you posted.

Y/N: I'm on the edge of my seat.

3 days later.

BB: Oscar Issac.

Y/N: Good non sequitur evening to you, too, Genius Bar Ben.

BB: For the bi thing.

Y/N: Ahh. Got it. I can respect that.

BB: This is me, btw: www.instagram.com/benbridgerdesign.  BB: Figured you can decide for yourself if I'm a creeper.

Y/N: Appreciated.

3 minutes later.

Y/N: You paint?

BB: I dabble

Y/N: Modesty will only make me like you more.

BB: You like me?! 🥹

Y/N: You didn't mention you were handsome.

BB: There is no way to respond to that without me sounding like a twat.

BB: But thank you 😊

Y/N: This is me: www.instagram.com/ynhandle 

7 minutes later.

BB: Oh, Amalfi is so beautiful, isn't it?

Y/N: Wow. That's a deep cut. How far did you scroll back??

BB: 👀

Y/N: Yeah, it's beautiful. Shame it's tainted for me now. Was there with an ex.

BB: I saw. Very handsome.

Y/N: Are you sure you're not just into men full-stop?

BB: 🤷 BB: You’re very pretty, too.

Y/N: I’d believe it if you didn't mention my “very handsome��� ex first…

BB: I call it like I see it. BB: I have had 4 whiskeys, tho, so make of that what you will.

Y/N: On a school night?!

BB: It’s my brother Ant's birthday. This is like non-optional drunk, I’ll have you know.

Y/N: Happy birthday to him. 

BB: He says thanks. He’s also told me to get off my fucking phone. Which is rich. He is texting his wife nonstop.

Y/N: Hah! Safe travels through Whiskeytown, BenBridger 🫡

BB: I kinda miss Genius Bar…. 😞

Y/N: I can't win…

2 days later.

BB: Settle an argument for me.

Y/N: 🍿

BB: Col, younger brother, never stops eating... He claims Katz Deli is overrated. I argue it's touristy but still good. You’ve been. Where do you sit on this matter?

Y/N: You really did go thru my Insta, didn't you?? Y/N: Thanks for the follow, BTW.

BB: It's a compliment, I assure you. BB: Welcome. And same.

Y/N: Not complaining. And yeah, I agree with you, actually.

BB: Hah! Excellent!!

Y/N: Wait… your older brother is Ant, and your younger brother is Col? You’re Ben. So, like ABC?

BB:  … I already warned you my family was weird.

Y/N: You did. You did.

BB: Now, please excuse me while I go gloat.

Y/N: 👍

5 mins later.

BB: Hi. This is Col. You must be the famous y/n. Ben’s in the bogs, and the mug left his phone on the table unlocked, so this is on him.  BB: He like really likes you. Like a lot. Will you go on a date with him pls? 

Y/N: Err, ok, hi Col. Y/N: Umm, I think Ben should be the one to ask me that. Don’t you?

BB: He’s too scared you’ll say no.

Y/N: I won't…

BB: EXCELLENT.

2 minutes later.

BB: I am so SO sorry about that 😬 He’s such a shit. BB: But… do you mean it?

Y/N: Ask me properly…

BB: Would you, y/n, like to go on a date with me? Please?

Y/N: I would be delighted to Ben. 😀

BB: 🙏 BB: Are you free on Thursday? Could I take you to dinner?

Y/N: Sounds wonderful. 

BB: 7pm? Meet at Picadilly Circus? By Brasserie Zedel?

Y/N: I’ll be there 😀

BB: 😀

10 days later.

BB: I think you should know… Liz is an artiste 😮‍💨

Y/N: Stop texting me from my bed, you dork. 😘 Y/N: How do you take your coffee?

BB: I'm like 10 meters away. Why not just ask me?

Y/N: You started this, Genius Bar…

BB: Come back to bed, Mostly Hairless Troll.

Y/N: I asked for that, didn't I? 🤦

Benedict taglist, pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[xllizs]

What's your favorite scary movie? ghostface! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

TAGS: Serial killer, corn maze, halloween, made up characters as readers friends, SMUT , unprotected, probably bad writing tbh (this was written in 2023, it’s been a year.) p in v, (i do not have experience in this field unfortunately so maybe not how it would feel) virginity loss - NOT PROOF READ!!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

You step out of your car into the eerie night, the grass brushing against your ankles. The cold air rushes past your body, making you shiver. You aren’t the biggest fan of this kind of stuff, but your friends wanted to go somewhere over the weekend, and since you miraculously finished all your work this week, you agreed. 

“Wait, are you guys fine leaving around, like, 8:30?” your friend, Himari hushes.

“Yeah, sure, but I kind of wanted to stay longer,” you say back, starting to walk towards the gates.

“Okay, but like, I’m still kind of paranoid because of all that Ghostface shit going around. I just don’t want to take any chances, y’know?”

You turn around and face the car, where Himari and your other friend, Keishi, are standing.

“Oh my god, if you keep mentioning it, then it’s actually gonna happen. You’ll be fine,” Keishi assures her. You nod at Himari with a slight smile. He yanks Himari by her wrist as you push open the gates of the pumpkin patch.

The sun’s glow reflects off of the field, making the lackluster grass look golden. The end of the sky fades into a deep saffron. There are a lot of people, but it isn’t too loud. You breathe in, take in the sight, and then exhale. After you pay for your tickets, you look back at your friends.

“Okay! So, what should we do first?” You ask, eyeing the seemingly endless rows of corn across from you. There’s an arch with a big sign on it that says Haunted Corn Maze at the beginning of the pathway.

“Ooh, we should do that!” Keishi exclaims, lightly jogging towards the entrance. You and Himari glance at each other before you follow suit. 

At the entrance, there’s a wooden A-frame chalkboard with a handful of warnings and disclaimers. Keishi struts up to it, and begins to read.

“Warning: the Haunted Corn Maze is not for the faint of heart. Those who suffer from seizures, asthma, heart conditions, or any physical, mental, or respiratory conditions should not enter. Anyone who enters understands that there may be dangers or hazards– okay I’m not reading all of that. Let’s just go in, I didn’t see anything on their website about it being super scary anyways.”

The three of you start to walk down the path, but you aren’t aware of the critical mistake you’ve all just made.

At the bottom of the chalkboard is written in bold letters: On October 1, 2, and 3, The Haunted Corn Maze will be closed from 7:30-11:00 PM for maintenance.

It’s 7:04, but you sure as hell won’t be leaving for a while.

…

You, Keishi, and Himari, have been walking for a good 20 minutes, running into a few scare actors. It’s gotten darker now, making it harder to stay together. The noise of fake chainsaws not only irritate you, but sometimes drown out the sound of your friends’ voices. As you’re trying to get through the maze, an announcement airs over the speakers.

“Greetings, visitors! We hope you’re having a spooktastic time, this is just a reminder that the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Again, the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a good rest of your evening!”

Oh, shit.

“...You have got to be fucking joking,” Himari says in a stern voice. You all stare at each other, then start desperately trying to find a solution.

“Should we call for help… I swear to god I didn’t know… oh my god… are we really stuck… just finish the maze…” 

You all agree that you should just try to find the exit as fast as you can, and if you can’t then at least help will find you. You and your friends start running slowly down the path, panting. It’s gonna take a fucking while for help to arrive, and you don’t want any random people trying to scare you in this anxious state–

Oh. Speak of the devil.

As you turn the corner, you see someone wearing a black robe holding a prop knife. It’s weird, they’re just facing the end of the aisle, which is a dead end. You groan loudly, realizing you have to go back, when the person turns around. The turn is curiously slow. Now, you can see they’re wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask. 

“Hah, Himari, you were right, there is a serial killer,” you sneer. You squint at the figure, trying to inspect them a bit harder, but they start to move their arm, raising the knife, and–

“Oh my fucking god, it’s an actual serial killer!” Himari screams. The knife barely flew past her.

“Himari, calm down, it’s just a prop… see–” You swear, trying to calm her down. Her arms squeeze around you as Keishi approaches the knife. His shaky hands try to cover his mouth, but he’s gawking. 

“N-no, it’s real.” The air turns even colder. You feel sick, like you’re going to puke, but you feel so horribly bare inside. You’re gasping for air, but it feels suffocating somehow. You’d think that your fight or flight instincts would kick in with a situation like this, but you’re just frozen. No way. No fucking way is this real.

“Oh– oh my god, run!” Keishi wails, holding onto both you and Himari as you try to get away. Any color in Himari’s face has completely faded at this point, and Keishi looks so distraught, which hurts to see, comparing it to his usual demeanor. Do something, idiot. Anything, it doesn’t matter, just please do something. You throw yourself away from your friends and take a shaky breath.

“D-don’t,” you choke, “don’t get near my friends, bitch!” You sob, clawing pathetically at the hunting knife on the ground. You didn’t realize how scarily far the knife was thrown, until now. The figure takes a firm, sharp step. 

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!” Himari yells. You’re glad she’s still conscious.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know, just hurry!” You yell back. It’s true, you don’t know what you’re doing, but at least you’re trying to do something, right? 

“Are you sure about this?!”

“Just go! I’ll keep him off for now, just get help, okay?” It’s hilarious, really– because you and your friends are all bawling your eyes out, how the hell are you gonna make it out of here?

Keishi and Himari look back at you before scurrying away frantically. The person in black takes another step towards you. Are you terrified? Probably. Do you think you can beat this guy who’s a foot taller than you? Probably not. Are you still going to try and protect your friends? Of course. 

“How cute,” the man in black coos, his voice muffled by the mask. You’re both taking one step at a time, waiting for the other to act. You blink, and before you know it, he’s almost right in front of you. You hurl the knife at his torso, and then run as fast as you humanly can.

…

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been stuck in this shithole, but it’s definitely been a while; the fatigue is really starting to settle in now. Constantly running around while still trying to keep quiet is excruciatingly difficult, especially when you’re being hunted down by a serial killer. You think you’ve finally lost him. It’s completely dark out now, and you’ve finally accepted that nobody is going to come looking for you. I mean, they would have found you by now, right? You wonder where Himari and Keishi are. It would kind of defeat the whole point of this if they were still stuck in the maze too. You reach into your back pocket for your phone, but there’s nothing there. You reach into the other pocket, but there’s still nothing. Shit, did it fall out while you were running?–

“I feel bad for you, you’re so oblivious it’s almost charming.”

There he is.

In his left hand is the knife from earlier. It’s covered in blood. He must’ve pulled it out. In his right hand is your phone.

“W–what– how did–” You didn’t even realize that you had fallen backwards. Get off your ass, do some–

“Are these your little friends, sweetheart?” He shows you the– oh god– 28 missed calls from you and your friends’ group chat. You haven’t been able to get reception until now, how ridiculous. You don’t have time to mope though, you need to get away from this psycho. 

“What do you want?” Your voice is strangled but still fierce. He cocks his head to the side, then looks back at the phone.

“Hm, they’re calling again,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You stare at him, terrified. How could he sound so normal about this? You start to get up, but then quickly realize it's a dead end. Fuck. He starts to walk towards you. You decide that if he comes at you, you'll try and escape from the side. 

You run towards the open space on his left. His arm moves towards your neck, the bloody knife brushing against your collarbone. 

“There's nowhere to go, doll.” 

He pushes you down, quickly straddling you so you can't move. 

“Why don’t we pick up the phone?” He questions, and you swear you can hear the grin in his voice. What a sly motherfucker. You throw your hands up, trying to get him away from you– not like it's gonna help, he's clearly built. He drops the phone to hold both of your arms together. The other hand quickly slides the knife up to your neck. “Answer the phone, and let your friends know you made it out safely, and that you're okay. Or I’ll slit your throat right now, got it?” His deep, scratchy voice shivers down your spine. You frantically nod your head yes, pleading for your life. “That's what I thought–” the phone rings. “Perfect. Now once I let go of your arms, don't fight back. You won't win.” You were too scared to, now. If you tried, who knows where the knife would end up.  

He lets go of your arms, grabbing the phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker, holding it up between you two. It's still closer to you, and the mic side is facing you. 

“Oh my god! You're alive!” Himari cries out with relief. You catch your breath. 

“Yeah, I got out,” you say, trying to stabilize your shaky voice. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? We were about to call the cops,” Keishi lectures you.

“I, uh– sorry, the reception was bad and then my phone died. I'm okay now,” you reassure them. You really wish you were. 

“Alright good, stay safe, we love you!” Himari says in a loving tone. 

‘Wait, guys–” they had already hung up, but you hadn't realized and kept speaking. “Please, he has me– please!” you scream out. You start sobbing, you're done for. Why did you do that? 

“Oohh, you stupid bitch.” He throws your phone. The knife that was just held up to your neck is now in his pocket. 

“No! No! Please! They didn't hear me!” You hiccup mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from sobbing. “I'm so sorry! Please, please! I don't wanna die! Please!” you're hysterical. His hand goes to your neck. Right now, he's just holding it. 

“Would you shut the fuck up? Im not fucking killing you, yet,” he spits out at you. 

His hand adjusts around your neck. For some reason he doesn't want to get rid of you. There's just something about you. He makes sure he puts pressure on the right spot, just to knock you out. 

“No! No! I'm so sorry!” You shriek out. He starts to squeeze your neck, and you instinctively bring your hands up to try and take him off. He grips both of your hands again. You’re gasping for air. You're starting to feel funny. Your vision is blurry. You– you can't get any more air.

…

Cold. It’s a lot colder than before. Am I dead? Where am I? 

Youre propped up on a chair. Your arms are behind you, tied together by something, whatever it is, it's cold, you assume it's handcuffs? Don't know. Surprisingly you can see. 

What about your legs? Can you move them? No. you can't. They're stuck around the chairs legs. 

You aren't able to talk, there's tape on your mouth.

Your visions still blurry, but you’re  trying to decipher where you are. Its dark, maybe a basement?

Clearly its not your house, so whos is it-

Then, all the memories came flooding in of what happened before you blacked out.

Fuck.

You hear somebody walking down the stairs. This time, zero robe. Is this sick fuck seriously wearing a tanktop and sweatpants? Still that stupid ass mask. You notice the bandage near where you stabbed him before. 

 Your face is soaked in tears and you're breathing so loudly. Your heart beat is so loud. The silence breaks when you hear a deep chuckle.

'`Pretty girls awake, huh?” he mocks you. He walks toward you and crouches down. “Oh yeahh, cant talk, can you?..kay’ gimme a sec.” 

Why is he talking to you like he didn't just kidnap you?? 

His hand approaches your face. You close your eyes. He gets a grip on the tape and rips it off fast. It comes off smoother due to your tears. You feel the light burning sensation and whimper. “Get the fuck away from me.” you quietly spoke. 

He scoffs at you. “Nah. Don't worry. You'll be gone soon.” Why does he say it in an assuring tone? Does he expect you to feel better? “Huh???” you start panicking. This can't be happening. He gets up and walks behind you. You follow him with your head as he starts to unlock your cuffs. The tight, cold metal around your wrists is gone. “My knife is in my pocket. Dont fuck with me.”  he tells you fiercely. You nod, if obeying him keeps you alive longer, you'll take it.

Youre free, he got your legs undone. His back is facing you, while he stands only a few feet away. This is your chance! Go! 

You spring up and the second the chair creeked his heels turn and he pushes you towards the ground.

You crash on the cement floor. Your knees automatically ache. He gets on the ground and flips you on your back. 

You are fighting back with everything you got. Moving your arms so he cant grab them. While he tries to keep your legs down, you knock off his mask. Holy fuck.

His raven hair  thats not too messy is revealed. His face and gorgeous green eyes. How is a serial killer, so attractive?

His mouth curls up, you notice a scar on it as he does. He scoffs. Fuck, you are so done, now. Your mouth opens a little from eyeing his face up and down. “You fucking little bitch. Now I really gotta get rid of ya, huh?” he says with a chuckle, acting like it's some sick joke. No, no. you really are gonna die. “Please. Please.” His hand wraps around your neck to pick you up. He leans closer to you. Only a few inches away from your face. “How should I kill you? Hm?” his head leans to the side as he has a small grin. 

Why are you finding the man that wants to kill you attractive? 

“No please. Please. I just graduated college! I have a life to live for! Please! I have so much left to do before I’d even die. Please!” you sob out. Tears coming out again. 

“Yeah?” he lowers his mouth to your ear, “Like what?” he questions. 

Your eyes widen in disgust, he's seriously asking about your future?

You stammer, “Uh- I, are you serious?” it was scary to ask, but you didnt wanna piss him off.

“Yeah.” He moves his head and is staring deeply into your eyes, “Why don't you tell me things you haven't done yet, or what you're planning? Gotta know what you'll miss out on, once I kill you.” he snickers at you. 

Your eyes widen in horror. That word, kill. You’re gonna die.

 “Uh. I mean” you breathe out shakingly, “I guess get a steady job?..and, nevermind. Finally get a boyfriend,” you really didn't understand why you were honestly telling him this, “I don't know-” 

“Nuh uh. Go back, you know you were gonna say something before that, doll.” he coos. 

That nickname. Now that you've seen his face, and you hate to admit it, it did something to you.

“I wasn’t.” you gulp. You both knew it was a lie. 

“You know I didn't believe that for one second.” He takes his knife out and you flinch, “don't worry, i ain't doing anything, yet.” he sneers. “So what was it? Your first kiss?” he starts fidgeting with his knife and his eyes light up, “Oohh, orrr.. are you still a virg-” 

“No!” you cut him off. Obviously, that was what you were going to say, but there was no point in telling the man who's going to kill you that you are. 

“Got ya!! Not very good at being secretive, hm?” he smirks.

He starts to eye you down, stopping where he straddled you. You take the chance to eye him down too. The way his shirt hugs his body. You gotta admit, he makes you wet. Your eyes run down to the tent in his pants. Is he hard? 

“So, you just really dont wanna die a virgin?” he asks

Your cheeks light up in a pink shade. “Why does it matter?” you shoot a question back at him. 

“Ehh, dunno. Personally I wouldnt mind a quick fuck, ‘specially with a pretty girl like you.” that nasty, but very attractive smirk, appears on his face again.

You break eye contact.

Was he attractive? Fuck yes. Would you fuck him in a heartbeat? Definitely. Isn't he planning to kill you? Yep. 

“Tell ya what,” He does a swift move with the knife, “If you let me fuck you, we’ll both get something out of it. You’ll lose your virginity you are so worried about, and I’ll possibly spare your life if its good. Andd, hopefully I’ll get a good fuck. Deal?” He looks you up and down.

Fuck. You mean, you'd do anything to live. And if he wasn't your killer you would accept his offer right away.

“Will I actually live?” you wonder, for all you know he might just stab you mid fuck. 

“Probably. Hopefully that wet cunt of yours is good.” he winks

“Fine. Will it hurt..?” you squint while asking, he chuckles, “ehh, you decide once you see my cock. But first, I want you to suck it. You bite and I slit your throat, ‘kay?” 

You've never sucked cock. You can barely swallow a pill. You try to remember all those stupid things Himari told you once after she gave a few guys head.

You nod at him and he gets off of you. Knife in hand. You watch as he takes his sweatpants off, revealing the large bulge in his boxers. Then, he removes them. Your eyes widen. You've seen porn a few times, and you knew, this was big. He lets out a light laugh. 

He sits on the chair you were on a few moments ago, queueing you to come towards him.

Your knees still hurt so badly, so as pathetic as it was, you crawl towards him. 

As you get between his legs, you get on your knees and wrap your hand around his cock. 

You start to stroke it up and down, spitting on it to help you lube it up. Not sure what to do, you kiss the tip, letting go with a pop noise. Circling his tip with your tongue, he grabs a handful of your hair with his hand gripping it. “That's good. Better start sucking it.” he pants out. His dick spilling with a little of precum still.

You let more spit dangle out of your mouth onto his dick and put your mouth on it. Starting to slide farther down his dick until you gag, you were gonna move back up until he pushes you down and starts bobbing your head up and down. Tears start to brickle out of your eyes and stream down your face. Remembering, you take your and stroke the part that isn't in your mouth. You play with his balls a little, hopefully not doing anything wrong. You stare up into his eyes as they fill with tears from gagging.

“Fuck, youre a fuckin’ slut arent you? You know how to work that mouth.” he grunts 

You start stroking more and he loosens his grip on your hair as you start to bob your head past you limit by yourself. “I’m gonna cum. And it's going in your mouth.” and when he says that, you swear you almost heard a whimper. You rest your hands on his knees, your head moves up and you circle his tip with your tongue one last time and put it far down your throat again. 

His dick twitches as he unleashes a load inside your throat. Without a single thought, you move your head away and swallow it. Why did you enjoy it? “Haha, swallowed it like it was nothing. This really your first time?” he breathes out, trying to get down from his high. His dick is still hard.

“That was good. Can't make any promises on your life though till I fuck that  cunt.” he has a smirk on his face.

You hated how badly you wanted to have this man fuck you. 

He stands up avoiding hitting you as you're still kneeled in front of the chair. You look to the side as if offers a hand to help you up. You question whether or not he's actually gonna help you up, but you take the chance and you're standing up.

 Once you're standing up you barely have a second to look up at his eyes staring into yours before he roughly pushes you against the wall. He pins you down, cupping your face and roughly kissing you. He forces his tongue into your mouth as one of his hands start to run down to your boob, circling around your nipple. 

He bites your lip and sucks on it before he releases and his lips move back a little, a string of salvia following him. He quickly moves down to your neck, you whimper as he bites down then quickly sucking on it. You try to contain you moans but between him playing with your nipple and sucking on your neck, you couldn't. 

He takes his knife and cuts down the middle of your shirt quickly revealing your bra. 

He rips off the rest of it and undoes your bra, letting your boobs fall out. 

He removes his mouth from your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive nipple while his other hand rubs the other one. 

“Fuck~” you moan out. His low breathless chuckle vibrates against your nipple which makes you squirm more. You don't want this to end. You bring your hand to his cock, starting to jerk him off, you move up and down a few times until he unhooks his mouth from your boob and starts to take your pants off, ripping your panties off with them. 

He exams your panties, “Fuckin’ wet, huh?” He throws them to the ground and plays with your clit but soonly he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist, letting you lean against the wall. 

He slides his cock up and down gathering your slick to help it go in easier, smirking when you shiver every time your clit and his tip make contact. 

“Please-mmmph. Please be careful, I've never,” you try speaking but he pushes his tip in slightly, “Yeah, yeah. Your first fucking time or what not. Does it look like I give two shits?” he thrusts all of it in in one go. You scream out in pleasure and pain. The burn. Hes so deep, you swear you practically feel him in your stomach. Holy shit. 

“Fuuuuckkkkk..you're sucking me in so good.” he groans and his eye roll back as he throws his head back. He waits a few seconds until he starts thrusting in at a slightly fast pace. “Mmpp..- feels soo good!” you moan out unable to hold it back. The pain you felt before is totally gone. 

You've tried to touch yourself before, but you could never reach where he's reaching right now. So many spots you never knew would feel good. He dick kept hitting that exact spot that made you see stars each time. “Godd, you're so fuckin’ tight. You gotta stop squeezing me like that, doll. You'll make me never wanna get out.” he manages to get out between breaths. 

He picks his pace up making your tits jiggle at the same time. As he thrust in, he pushes you into a powerful kiss and forces his tongue in, smashing into yours. He pulls away from your mouth slightly and sucks on your lip, leaving a ticklish feeling, but it doesn't last long as bites down on it causing you to whimper and clench around him. “Hm? You liked that huh?” he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, raven hair strands sticking to his forehead. His eyes were so beautiful to look at, they were a beautiful green shade. 

He continues thrusting but goes harder, deeper hitting that same spot over and over again. You start to clench more as he quickened his pace again. You couldn't grasp how he had so much stamina.

“I-i…fuckk.. Please. harder. “  You knew you were close to cumming. “So close..mmppp!” you cry out. “Shiitt. Me too.” he grunts, starting to somehow go harder then he was. The sound of your body's colliding echoing throughout the room, both of your moans syncing with his thrusts. He goes harder, you were seeing stars. You couldn't believe you were losing your virginity to the man who wanted to kill you, the man who is the serial killer, Ghostface. “Cum-ughhhfuck.. Cumming!!” you scream out, your cum gushing around his cock. He continues thrusting as your orgasm, until only a few seconds later he cums inside of you. 

You both are coming down from your high, catching your breath. “Was it good? Am I gonna live? Please.” you question.

“Huh? Yeah. That was really fucking good. You'll live, but I want you around for a while with me."

written by me and @ems-interlude !!

TAGLIST: (if you want to be added, check kinktober masterlist for the form!) @slutforfictionalman @queendessi24 @tojishugetiddies @thebestgirlever2 @getosho3cakes @hotvillianapologist @taxevadingblob

[summercourtship]

𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖞 '𝖏𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖑𝖘𝖊𝖓' 𝖏𝖔𝖍𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖋!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 18+

I started writing this in fall 2020. At it's most ambitious, it was going to be a multi-chapter fic but that obviously didn't and won't happen so here: have it reimagined as a one-shot. You might be able to tell where it would have expanded into a larger story, but I tried to condense it. If anything that is here is eerily similar to something else I've written, it's because I've probably taken it from this draft lol. Also TBH I'm trying to not be as explicit in my sex scenes because I just feel more comfortable writing that way. Which seems like the opposite of a goal: for years, I've been trying to become better at writing super explicit scenes and now I'm trying to reel it in and make it (hopefully) match the rest of my prose. IDK. Happy Halloween!

brief summary: A one-shot about being stalked by your coworker who is also the serial killer terrorizing the town. warnings: slightly dubious consent due to threat of death, stalking, horror themes, knife play, PIV sex, some dirty talk | word count: 4025

danny 'jed olsen' johnson masterpost | read on ao3

You smell him before you see him. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and the unspecific musk of his cologne. On anyone else, you’d hate it. But with him, it’s become an almost comforting scent, indicative of one of your favorite people’s presence. When he rounds the corner and comes into your view, you can’t help the tiny smile that crosses your face.

“Hi Jed!” You chirp as he comes to a stop in front of your desk, placing his coffee on the corner of your desk to free his hands as he rummages in his side satchel bag. He gives you a smile in return, pulling out a thin file folder and flipping it open. 

“Here are those photos you wanted me to get,” He hands over a small stack of pictures, all developed and ready to go. Last week, you asked him to take the pictures on a whim, thinking you might just have to go down yourself with your crappy hand-me-down camera and snap a picture for the article you’re working on. But, to your surprise, he agreed quickly. 

The article isn’t anything special- in fact it’s quite the opposite. A filler piece for the middle section of the paper that no one really read. Despite this, you couldn’t bring yourself to bullshit the article, and still put forth an unnecessary amount of effort into the piece. No one would read it now, but perhaps it could be added to your portfolio for when you finally left this town. 

The photos are good- which isn’t a surprise considering who took them. Everything Jed did seemed to turn out well, even when he didn’t try. You wonder what he looks like doing something he’s actually passionate about.

“I didn’t think you’d have these ready so soon!” You say, flipping through the four pictures he handed over. You’d have to choose one- you’re lucky they’re even letting you include a picture in the meaningless article. “I mean, aren’t you busy with Ghostface?” 

He gives a small exhale, like he’s laughing at his own inside joke. “A little bit.” He pauses. “Maybe I wanted a break to go take some pictures of the duck pond in the park. Riveting stuff you’re writing about.”

“Excuse me, but the purported existence of an otter in the duck pond is very important news. Would be front-page worthy if there wasn’t someone else taking up the headlines.” You laugh before stopping for a moment, thinking about what you just said. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. People are dead and I’m making jokes about an otter.” 

“Don’t worry about it, everyone copes in different ways.” He smiles down at you. “Especially when you have no idea if you’re next.” 

“That’s morbid, but fair.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t notice how his eyes flick to follow the movement. “Anyways, thanks again for the pictures. I will have to find a way to repay you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles again, different this time. This is the smile that makes your stomach swoop and your heart skip a beat. Your face heats and you stop thinking for a second, but you press on.

“No, please-” 

“I wouldn’t want to put you out like that. Times are hard.” 

“I- okay.” You sit back, looking at him. He nods and starts to leave, but the part in you that insisted on somehow repaying him took over and you were speaking up once more.

“Jed!” He turns and looks back, eyebrows raised. “Um, at least let me take you out for coffee? Just as a thanks, not repayment.” He thinks about it for a moment, your heart racing as you wait with bated breath for his answer. If he didn’t say yes, you’d never be able to look at him again. You might have to leave town immediately.

“Sure, but let’s make it a date instead.” He gives you a tiny smile and a wink that you barely register, before turning and walking away. Giddy, you sit back in your chair, trying not to hide your face in your hands. Instead you focus on the pictures, flipping through them to distract yourself from the newfound excitement in your veins.

____

Despite the fact that there was a masked stalker-murderer prowling the streets of your town, you felt no fear walking home. Maybe it’s a remnant of your teenage “nothing can hurt me” years. Maybe it’s just your stupidity rearing its ugly head at the worst time. 

Or maybe you just like the thrill of it all.

You had listened to the warnings- check behind you when you walk, keep an eye out for anything abnormal, lock your windows, lock your doors, don’t hang out places alone. However, you followed them a little haphazardly. You didn’t engage in any behaviors that could be misconstrued as inviting danger into your life, but you also didn’t necessarily allow the paranoia to get to your head.

If you did, you might have died from sheer terror and helplessness. Or perhaps you would’ve been more careful, and would’ve definitely noticed that you had already unknowingly disregarded the warnings.

Someone was following you.

And they had been following you for a while.

____

You wake up suddenly. It’s like that sometimes- not gently, or gradually. You’re just... awake. Brain racing to catch up with your surroundings, you sit up. No clock around, but you’d hazard a guess that it’s somewhere around 3AM. Running a hand through your hair, you sigh, the dream you’d been having already disappearing from your memory. Plopping back onto your pillow, you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come back to you.

It’s funny how the air conditioning can sound like someone breathing, deep and slow. You vaguely register that something isn’t right here, but sleep takes over before you can linger on that thought. 

__

The best coffee shop in town is a small, cluttered shop off of the main road. It’s tucked away between a barbershop and a vintage store, far enough away from the main street that any tourists wouldn’t come by it. (Not that there were many of those now that a serial killer prowled the streets at night.)

“You okay?”

You look up from where you’d been staring into your coffee, even though it was probably too late in the day to be drinking it, the sky already darkening with the approaching evening. But your body was thick with exhaustion for reasons you weren’t quite sure and you needed to finish another pointless article when you went home. Jed had his own coffee, so at least you weren’t alone in your desire for evening caffeination. 

“Yeah, I’m just… trying to not psych myself out about everything going on. The news says it's good to be careful but I know I’d just end up taking it too far and becoming paranoid.” 

“No one knows how to deal with this.” He says, simply. You only nod in agreement and take a sip from the coffee. 

A breaking news report on the TV in the corner of the room catches your eye. GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN screams the caption at the bottom of the screen. You silently nudge Jed and direct his attention towards it. For a moment, it looks like the echo of a smile crosses his face, but it’s gone before you can truly absorb it. His face is stony, and he looks back at you. 

“Are you gonna write about that?” You ask. 

“Tomorrow.” 

“What number is this?”

“Six.” He answers without hesitation. You force yourself to take a deep breath to try and calm the beating of your heart. Every time the news breaks, it feels like the first time. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to hearing about another brutal murder, and maybe that’s a good thing. It means you aren’t desensitized to it yet. You only realize that Jed is watching you carefully when he asks, again: “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Why are you so worried about me? You could be next too.”

“I think I can handle it if it comes to that.” He took a sip from his coffee to hide his smile. If you found this odd, you didn’t remark on it. “At least let me walk you home tonight.” 

You stared at him, unsure why you were suddenly uneasy, why an alarm was going off somewhere in the back of your head. Then you decided that it was stupid. You knew Jed. He took pictures of the duck pond for you. Hardly anything to be frightened by. 

“That would be nice, thanks.” 

___

After a week of waking up in the middle of the night, you were certain there was something else going on that your body was trying to tell you. When your eyes open, once again barely past two A.M., you sit up in your bed instead of trying to go back to sleep right away like you normally do. The shadows in your room seemed deeper tonight, your curtains blocking out most of the light from the street. 

You stare into the corner, hoping that the shape manifesting in the darkness was just your eyes playing tricks on you and you could go back to sleep. But you knew better. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the low light and you’re able to make out the dark figure standing in the shadows. 

“...Go away.” 

Slowly, with the creak of leather, the figure shook its head. You take a careful breath, trying not to let your fear show. But it must be palpable in the air, there's no way it wasn’t. 

“What do you want?” 

The headlights of a car driving by shined into your room for a brief second, illuminating the figure and the mask he wore like a bolt of lightning struck down outside. It only confirmed what you had been afraid of since you’d woken to see a dark shadow in your corner, as his mask was barely visible in the dark room. 

But it seems that Ghostface has, indeed, marked you as his next victim. 

You move, bolting out of bed. He must want to give chase because he lets you fling your door open and run down the hall, his steady footsteps following you. But he catches up to you quickly, his body slamming into yours and pressing you against the wall, his arms wrapping around your front. Before you can begin to struggle, the thin edge of a blade is pressed against your throat, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You can only respond with a choked cry.  

The hard length of his body presses against your back, a firm barrier between you and your freedom. He adjusts slightly, allowing you to feel the other hard length pressing against you, though you can only barely feel it through the layers of his outfit. But you know it’s there. 

You exhale shakily, and you don’t know if it's from fear or your own arousal. (Or both). 

His chest hits your back as he breathes, standing still with you as your mind tries to catch up with everything that has happened in the past few seconds.

“Let me go.” You whisper. His arms flex around you, squeezing slightly. “Please.”

To your surprise, his grip loosens. 

“Call the cops and I’ll skin you alive.” He hisses in your ear, his voice rough from the modulator he’s using. 

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing frozen in your hallway, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why wasn’t he killing you? Why wasn’t your blood splattered on the walls, why did he let you go?

Despite his warning, you did consider calling the cops. But really, what would they do? Ghostface was gone. There was no evidence aside from the thin line of red on your throat where he’d pressed the knife, and even that was fading quickly.

Instead, you return to your room, curling under the covers and staring at the wall until the room brightens with the dawn. 

___

You had no idea if Ghostface continued to watch you. You were certain he was. You’d come home to things in obviously different positions. It was like he was taunting you, begging you to do something about it.

You simply put the objects back where they belonged and continued about your day.  

___

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Jed asks, a few dates later when you’re sitting on your couch with him and perched on the edge of the cushion, your muscles tense like you were about to take off running, and he seems so understanding in that moment that you almost blurt out what has been happening for the past two weeks. But fear takes a hold of you, and instead you simply shake your head. 

“No, no. There’s nothing.”

___

The second time you actually see Ghostface, you’re barely prepared for it. You knew, deep down, that he’d be back at some point and yet you were still surprised when you arrived home to an open window, your sheer curtains fluttering in the hot wind as the humidity from outside filled the room. 

You drop your bag, staring at the open window like it was a rabid animal that was going to attack. Then, slowly, you turn your head to the corner, where you can feel his eyes on you. 

Even though you can’t see his eyes through the mask, you can feel the moment you make eye contact with him. 

Ghostface starts walking towards you and you don’t know why you don’t move. The door is right behind you and yet you stand there, watching as he approaches you with slow and measured steps as the streetlight from outside glints off the knife he holds loosely in his hand. You swallow thickly. 

Then, when he’s only a step away and after you’ve had ample time to turn around and run away, he grabs the side of your head, his gloved hand threading through your hair. Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and you struggle against his hold. You vaguely register him shushing you from behind the mask but your heart is racing too fast in your ears to really pick up on it. 

As a response to your thrashing, he places the flat edge of the knife against your cheek, a silent threat that stills your movement. You stare at him, stuck between his knife and his hand. (You should’ve run, why didn’t you run?)

He clicks his tongue, the noise distorted by the voice modulator in his mask as he shakes his head.

“Be good for me, won’t you?”  

Something shifts-- maybe it’s the wind from the open window or maybe he leans in a fraction closer but you suddenly catch a whiff of his scent. He must’ve been covering it up with a heavier cologne in his previous visits, because you would have easily recognized this from the first visit. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and an unidentifiable musk of his (usual) cologne.

It’s like being dunked in ice cold water after a warm day in the sun. You stare up at Ghostface, your brain quickly piecing together all the things you hadn’t consciously picked up on. The coincidences, the hints, the tiny behaviors that reminded you, always, of someone else. 

You pull yourself out of his grip, and you don’t know if he expected you because you’re able to make it halfway across the room on shaky legs before he grabs you again. Your legs buckle beneath you at the force of his body against yours and he follows you to the floor, roughly turning you over so you’re laying on your back with him perched above you. 

Heart racing, you reach up and yank his mask off, too quick for him to react. You blink at him, confirming what you’d just figured out. What you’d known, really, this entire time.

“Jed.” 

For a second, his face is blank. Then, he starts to laugh, pressing his weight down on your body when you start to struggle again. 

“I was wondering when you’d figure it out. Was hoping you wouldn’t, really, but.” He shrugged. “Does it make you feel better, or worse, to know that you weren’t actually cheating on me?”

“I never did anything with Ghostf- you.”

“But I know you well enough to know that you wanted to. I felt how you pressed back against me that night when you first noticed me in your room.” He leans down, getting in your face. His eyes are so cold, not at all the eyes of the Jed Olsen you knew. Was that even his name, or was that a lie too? “Did you want Ghostface to hold you down and fuck you? Was Jed not cutting it out for you? You needed the big bad serial killer, didn’t you?” 

He places his gloved hand over your throat, noting how your breath catches. “Of course you did.” His hand moves down, laying over your left breast. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to actually touch you. It’s only then you notice the rhythm he’s keeping with his other hand, the one that’s still resting on the side of his leg. He’s feeling your heartbeat, though his eyes are locked onto yours. 

“I didn’t. I don’t.” 

“You say that, but-” He peers closer at your eyes. “Your eyes are telling me something else.” He leans back and smugly offers his explanation. “You know that eyes dilate when you’re sexually aroused.”

“I-” You swallow, falling silent. What can you say? Any denial would be a lie. He continues to look down on you, face passive. 

“I don’t want to kill you.” He interrupts your silence. Then he’s quiet. Thoughtful, almost. A glimmer of the Jed you knew coming through in his hesitation. “Not yet, at least.”

“Oh-”

“But I can’t exactly let you go on knowing who I am.”

“...I won’t tell anyone.” He raises an eyebrow, looking like he might burst into laughter again. “Promise.”

What power did you have to promise something when you were the one under him, the memory of the edge of his knife still cold on your cheek? 

“Who would you tell?” He said, causing you to furrow your brow. “You think that Jed Olsen is my real name? I’ve thought through everything before you or anyone else could even try to.”

“But-”

“Why would I let you go, when your death will be so…” he leaned down again, his hips rolling slightly against yours. It’s achingly difficult not to press up against it. “...delicious?”

“I don’t want to die.” 

“None of you do.” He tutted. His hand that had been laying on your breast moves to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling the fabric up to expose your stomach. You shivered at the feeling of leather on your skin, goosebumps trailing after his fingers as he slid his hand back towards your breasts. 

“Front clasping bra.” He says under his breath, raising his eyebrows at you. “Were you expecting company?”

“No.” You glance down. You could offer an explanation like oh, it’s almost laundry day or I just like this bra, but you stay silent. Watching as he unclasps it.  

Jed- though that isn’t his name, is it?- removes his gloves, tossing them somewhere in your living room. You start to turn your head to see where they landed but he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him again. 

“Stay still.” 

It’s then that you notice his knife, back in his hand, and watch, with bated breath, as he drags the tip over the skin between your breasts, not hard enough to even sting. Down, under where your skin creases, back up around the right breast until he lays the blade flat against you. Your chest is rising and falling quickly with your breath, though you try to control it for fear of being nicked by the knife. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

He hums, tracing the point of the blade around your nipple and watching as it hardens. 

“Tell you what-” He moves the knife to the other breast. “-we can postpone your death.”

“And what do you want instead?” You ask, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was dragging his blade across your exposed chest or the obvious erection pressing against you when he rolled his hips. 

“I think you know.” He raised his eyebrows. Was there a choice? And even if you did have a choice where the option wasn’t death, would you choose any differently? 

He pinches your nipple, prompting a shaky acceptance from you. “Fine.” You barely bite back a please before he slides down your body, his hands running down your chest to the hem of your pants. The knife returns to cut off the button (unnecessarily) and he roughly pulls your pants down your legs, his nails scratching your skin. 

He slots himself between your legs, now with only the thin fabric of your underwear and his clothes separating him from you. Even that doesn’t last long, as he takes the side of your underwear and rips through it with the knife before doing the same to the other side, ripping the fabric away from your body. 

Leaning back, he starts to fiddle with the many belts and buckles around his waist. You watch, your legs falling apart slightly. His eyes drop to your core, his tongue darting out to lick his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. 

“For someone who seemed so averse to this, you’re pretty wet.” He comments. Before you can respond, he’s pushing into you, having pulled his cock from the complicated trappings of his outfit. 

You groan at the intrusion, the slight pinch of pain before you adjust as he continues to push into you. He gives you barely a moment to breathe before he pulls out and begins thrusting back into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts as he fills you, his cock thick in your cunt. You can only whimper in response, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. 

He pulls your leg up, placing it over his shoulder as he continues to fuck into you, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper inside of you. You curse, throwing your head back. You’re certain that you’ll have a rash on your back and ass from the carpet rubbing against your skin but the bursts of pleasure from his cock and his fingers are enough to distract you from that for the moment. 

“Come on, cum on my cock-” He grunts, his hips rutting down against you, his fingers pressing harder against your clit as he practically bullied your body into orgasming for him. Your back arched, hands flying to pull him down to you. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his cloak, scratching against the leather as he urges you on with whispered praise and degradation. 

With a final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you, low curses hissed through his teeth. 

You lay, chest heaving as he pulls out, wincing at the sudden feeling of emptiness. The sweat that covers your skin begins to cool. 

“Remember what I said last time about calling the cops.” 

You don’t respond, only clipping your bra back together and pulling your shirt back down over your chest. After all, what could the police do at this point? There were very few signs of a struggle in your apartment. And, as you found out the next day, Jed had gone out after and killed someone else. At best, the police wouldn’t believe that it had actually been Ghostface in your apartment. At worst, they’d think you were in on it. 

And, when you went into work the next day to find a dark polaroid picture of you, asleep, from a few weeks ago- before you’d even asked Jed to take those pictures of the duck pond- with a red heart scrawled at the bottom, you began to think that maybe the worst assumption wasn’t that far off anymore. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

bishops x reader who wants to sacrifice themselves?

Bishops x Reader who offers to sacrifice themselves

oooooo i love me some angst mweheheheheheh notes: reader is gn, any creature for the reader, did a coin toss on whether or not they agree to sacrifice you, tbh not really proud of this but i do kind of like kallamars part and shamuras... will be yoinking that for some imaginary scenarios later cws: sacrifice and death

LESHY

he agrees to it after thinking about it for a while, hes not exactly happy about it but you bring up good points for why it should be done

you get a grave, too, decorated in flowers and small statues and trinkets, you actually have a hand in decorating it as morbid as it sounds

his mouth feels sour during the preparations, like he feels hes making a mistake letting you go through with this... hes killed countless followers before, most not even being sacrificed... so why are you different?

asides from of course, you being one of his favorites- but even then he wasnt exactly gentle with his other favorites either... young god, not as experienced as his siblings but just as quick to snuff out life without much of a second thought... the sacrifice is done

HEKET

flat out refuses, and shes not going to be gentle about it. nothing you can say will change her mind, she still has use of you (code for her saying that she wants you to stay for just a little longer, or forever if you have a gold skull necklace)

besides- theres so much other use for you asides from giving your being up- like... working, and worshipping, and...!

doesnt like it when you bring it up and shuts it down anytime you mention it, shes stubborn and her words are final

shes so tense and harsh about it that it may put a strain on your relationship for a while until one of you caves- and its unlikely that the god of famine is going to backdown and admit defeat in this

KALLAMAR

he makes you a grave for when youre gone- hes always had that planned regardless of how you ended up going out... age, disease, an accident... but never did he ever consider you wanting to give your life to him to further his own

he wants to deny you right then and there but youre persistent, but he holds firm despite your begging to let you help him

there are countless other fathful followers that can be sacrificed, they can be chosen instead... and the proposition of using someone else seems to hurt you, just a bit... like you believed that you werent devoted to him enough

its a messy thing all around- you want to prove yourself to him and further his power and range... and he doesnt want to let go of you just yet- if it had been anyone else he would have let it happen without a second thought

SHAMURA

they dont take your request lightly, not at all... just by the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice they knew there was no changing your mind- and this wasnt something you offered up on a whim

that doesnt mean theyre... thrilled about it... they make sure the preparations leading up to the ritual are catered to you, this is your death afterall and they want to make your last few days as comfortable as possible

perhaps they are compensating for something that plagues their mind, a means to regain some control and regulate their feelings of grief

oh how theyre going to miss you... but faith is something that must be preserved, and if you want to preserve their power.. and their life.. who are they to deny you?

[rotthepoet]

hiii,

as someone who only recently started poking their nose into this, help i am so confused T-T do you have like a slythering boys 101 or something i am so lost on them and their personalities q-q

- 🦆 anon (it/its) (<- if that‘s still free)

O H M Y G O D S

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME FOR A FULL RUN DOWN EHEHEHEHHWHEHE THANK YOU

okay so essentially the Slytherin boys consist of about 5-7 boys. Draco Malfoy(canon), Blaise Zabini(Canon), Theodore Nott(canon character, will explain), Mattheo Riddle(Fanmade), Lorenzo Berkshire(Fanmade), Tom Riddle(the third. Fanmade, not the dead one), and Regulus Black(Fanmade, again not the dead one)

You’ll typically see Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Theodore being written about, but its not hard to find Tom Riddle and Regulus Black content either.

So like? Who are these people?? How did they come to be??

We already know Blaise and Draco, they frequent both the books and movies so i’m not going to spend a lot time talking about them.

Draco is just about canon Draco. I can’t think of anything that really changes about him in the fandom.

Blaise has a lot less book/screen time than Draco so a lot of people have taken it upon themselves to characterize him. I see him as a very posh, haughty, quiet person. I think he’s at least half Italian even if he doesnt speak the language, but that differs person to person.

Okay here’s where it gets a bit complicated so stay with me(if you need clarification on anything PLEASE feel free to dm me or send in another ask <3)

Theodore Nott

Mentioned in the books maybe twice, all we know is he’s a slytherin pureblood with some h e a v y ties to Voldemort. Because we have so little information on Theodore, all of it’s basically made up.

Basic information:

He’s fancasted as Lorenzo Zurzolo, and Theodore himself is Italian and completely fluent in the language. You’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Baby(netflix)

Most people agree that his mom is dead, but i’ve seen some fics where shes alive and just ill, and i’ve seen fics where shes alive and just absent. I characterize Theo as a total mamas boy, but again its up to the author.

His dad seems to be abusive or neglectful. Again, death eater dad who is pretty much besties with Voldemort. Daddy issues

I characterize him as best friends with Mattheo Riddle(explain later) because of their family ties, but they truly get along.

He’s an avid smoker with a pension for ciggies, but i’ve also seem him characterized a few times as the Hogwarts plug which i think is SO fun.

He’s this really quiet, observant, yet flirtatious character. He’s a ladies man but still a heart breaker. Everyone wants to sleep with Nott, and thats okay.

Mattheo Ridde

Mattheo comes from a draco x reader fanfic called Possesive by yasmineamaro. I think you can still find it on Wattpad. He’s completely fanmade.

Basic Information:

He’s fancasted by Benjamin Wadsworth, and you’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Deadly Class

He’s the son of Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange, and depending on if the author believes in Tom Riddle the Third, Mattheo is the second child.

Again, Avid smoker, also I see him as a heavy drinker. Type of guy to come into class reeking of pot and act like nothing happened.

Fights galore man. Imagine having the dark lord as your dad, no doubt he was fuckin traumatized as a child. Imagine Ominis Gaunt from Hogwarts Legacy, the Guants were FUCKED UP(Gaunts actually became the riddles so this tracks) and often used unforgivables on their own children for discipline. Cant imagine Voldemort wouldnt do the same.

He is angry, he is mean, he is actually really funny and sweet once you talk to him(can we tell i have a favorite?) but getting through that hard outer shell sucks.

Also depicted as a major playboy.

Tom Riddle(the Third)

Oh boy. No idea where he came from, and tbh I see him WAY less often than anyone else. Its really a 50/50 if the author follows him being… real.

Basic information

Okay i don’t really write for Tom so.. bear with me here.

He’s casted as… just Tom Riddle from the Movies. Its just him. I think Tom Riddle second actually got a new fancast but… i dont really care :P

Heir to the Dark Lord, oldest child(again, when he exists, so don’t be surprised to see single child Matty)

Really just copy/paste book tom riddle into a new, young character.

He’s scary asf, academic weapon, also a ladies man but will drop them IMMEDIATELY after he fucks em

Idk what else to say here tbh? Maybe someone else can explain Tom better 😫

Lorenzo Berkshire

No clue how this fucker came to be, I fucking HATE him. Fanmade and BITCHY. JK just got corrected he’s from a draco x oc on wattpad called Filthy by babynaomi

Basic Information:

Fancasted by Louis Partridge, you’ll most likely see clips from Enola Holmes.

Bastard son of Mr. Berkshire and Bellatrix Lestrange which relates him to the Riddles.

I see Lorenzo being this bestie little trio with Theo and Mattheo. But Matt and Theo are way more likely to hang out with eachother than alone with him.

Suppeeeeeeer bitchy. Someone had a DR scenario where he would fuck everygirl he could, write their name down in a little black book, and each girl was worth different points based on blood status.

This guy sucks fr.

Actually some people characterize him as really sweet and fluffy.

I am not one of those people.

Regulus Black

No ideas where this guy came from. He’s literally just dead regulus copy and pasted into an alive, younger regulus. Supposedly the child of Sirius Black and some random woman?

Basic Information

He’s fancasted as Timothee Chalamet, so is dead regulus, its really confusing.

I dont write for him. Really, I dont know what to tell you

I’ve seen him portrayed as an artist?? Erm… again, i really dont know

Sorry pookie 😫

But!! This is fanfiction! And you can make uo all your own information for these guys because theyre not real!! Thats like.. the essential run down i suppose?? If youre confused about anything just let me know 🥰 really, it looks all intimidating but these characters are super easy to understand. Try poking around tiktok for POVS, silly as they are(dont @ me i read them too😫) theyre really helpful for understanding personalities. I remember being super confused when i first found em too.

[evilkitten3]

Mutual, I'm lowkey obsessing over your tags about akatsuki Tsunade, can you elaborate more the basic timeline? Like how this would affect Tsunade's arc in classic and such

tbh i hadn't really thought about it lol

but.... let's say it happens during the search for tsunade arc? orochimaru and jiraiya are both gunning to get her on their side but you know what? the shark man said please. get your shit shizune we're going with these guys if you poison the little red-eyed shit on the way no judgement (kisame: maybe don't though?)

jiraiya is pissed, orochimaru is torn between being amused bc wow and being in agonizing pain bc his arms still don't work, naruto keeps trying to get her to come heal lee (and now sasuke) but she's having none of it so she just throws a file of miscellaneous notes at his head and tells him "find someone with good chakra control and pray" (sakura: omg i have good chakra control!!!!)

weirdly the member of team seven affected most by this is sasuke bc sakura has absolutely no fucking clue what she's doing at first and it takes her like an extra month to wake him up, so he needs to get back on his feet before he can decide if he wants to run off to orochimaru or not. lee is.... kinda sol, frankly. sakura works really really hard to help him out, and she's eventually able to get him to a place where he can do a few things, but by the time she's good enough to really be able to help him it's way too late. fortunately he's adapted somewhat, and being lee he's surpassed what anyone thought he'd be able to, but he's never going to be what he could've been. gaara feels terrible about this ofc but lee isn't the sort to really hold a grudge, even if pretty much everyone agrees he'd be perfectly justified in doing so. gai never forgives tsunade, though, not really.

concerning tsunade's role in the akatsuki.... the thing is, it's her own grandparents who started the whole jinchuuriki mess. and she's seen with her own two eyes what konoha did to places like amegakure; she was part of it. she doesn't like that the jinchuuriki die post extraction, so she starts looking into how to make that not happen, but if she does succeed, it isn't until after the gaara debacle, so chiyo still dies. her biggest motivation here is naruto - she doesn't agree with him, but he reminds her of nawaki, so she really doesn't want him to die if at all avoidable. she doesn't get too involved in the actual jinchuuriki capturing process tho; she's more useful patching people up after.

having said that, she doesn't fully agree with pain and konan's plan, she just can't really think of anything better. tobi tells sasuke about itachi while tsunade is patching him up, and since it's her family that led to this, she's pretty on-board with the whole "fuck this stupid baka village" thing (ofc she's been heading down that path since joining the akatsuki, so this isn't like canon!tsunade suddenly making this call; there's a couple years of character development first), so.... she's effectively on team sasuke at this point, and once he splits from the akatsuki she does as well.

iirc, post danzou, sasuke spent about eight and a half volumes just kinda adjusting mostly offscreen to his recent ert (eyeball replacement therapy), before skewering og white zetsu and fucking off to go accidentally reunite with zombitachi, but aside from decking itachi through a few trees on sight, idk how much about all that would change. immediately after, when sasuke brings back orochimaru, they have an awkward reunion, followed by yet another awkward reunion when orochimaru brings back the four dead hokage. she's both very happy to see her granddad again, but it's hard for her to tell him (and hiruzen, for that matter) that she deserted the village completely, even if she doesn't regret her decision.

now you may be wondering: weren't shizune and tonton also around? yes! but when sasuke went after danzou, they stayed behind, leading to shizune finding and managing to save konan after tobito killed her. there's a potential romance subplot there as well but i accidentally ruined it for myself by saying aloud "two girls one pig" and then regretting my whole life.

the other survival is jiraiya; he becomes hokage instead since it's either one of the sannin or one of the elders, and as much as he doesn't want the job, he really doesn't want them to have it. this in part means he can't go spying in ame himself, although he very nearly does after orochimaru's death gets reported, but instead he sends someone else. that person dies, but manages to get the information back to him (it has to be someone important to naruto, and it can't be kakashi, so maybe iruka? but idk how he'd be in espionage. maybe one of naruto's classmates did spy training offscreen? it's entirely possible with jiraiya as hokage instead of tsunade but idk). since jiraiya isn't a healer, he'd either need to be injured badly enough for danzou to be able to step in without him being able to object, or sasuke would just need to have his fight with danzou somewhere else (so the raikage's arm might survive also).

the final thing is that, unlike in canon, this version of tsunade never got naruto therapy'd, so while she does eventually get over the hemophilia somehow (maybe just existing in the relative vicinity of hidan did the trick), she never really dealt with the grief that caused her to leave konoha in the first place, so that's still very much there. however, i think maybe this could work to the story's advantage - instead of just naruto vs sasuke, it could be naruto and sakura vs sasuke and tsunade. tho in this instance sasuke really isn't alone, and isn't really trying to be by that point. it's more a battle of "do we try to fix the system from within, or do we really need to start from scratch for things to improve in any meaningful way", but ultimately the winner is the realization that four people from konoha not only shouldn't but honestly can't be the only ones making this call. if the world is going to move forward, it can't be dragged by a single person, or even two people. it's gotta be a group effort. idk if the story should go into the details of what they decide on, bc i'm definitely not politically savvy enough for something like that, or just have an open ending leaving whatever happens next up to interpretation.

(sorry this took so long lol i kept having to do things XD)

[olderthannetfic]

Hi hi! I have a question and I apologise if it's impertinent but I really didn't have anyone else to ask. I'm new to ao3 and I'm still figuring out how it works. The problem is this- when I look up a character x reader, I'll see the tag included in many works that have oneshots but since it's a side character, more often than not the oneshot for the character hasn't been written and the tag has been there for months. Is it okay to do that or is it tagging something incorrectly? They say they'll write one eventually but they never do, y'know? To me it kind of feels like they're just trying to reach a wider audience but because of this I can't even filter tags and I have to manually search through the book to check if the character is included, especially when the chapters are titled only by numbers :')

Is it okay to tag things in advance like that?

--

Oh boy...

Wattpad refugees do tend to use AO3 "wrong", sometimes in ways that break the rules and sometimes just in ways I find annoying and against typical AO3 culture.

I'm assuming you are coming from Wattpad based on you calling a work or a fic a "book", which is a very, very Wattpad thing to do.

I'm assuming they are coming from Wattpad given the bad behavior you're describing and the fact that they're a x reader writer.

--

So, here's the thing, if you start writing a fic and there's any amount of the actual fic, even if it's pretty short and bad or in a weird format or whatever, it's still a valid fanwork. Most of the time, AO3 leaves it to the author to decide how to tag (aside from a very few things like death threats in the tags or failing to use the required archive warnings).

AO3 won't stop someone from tagging a future pairing that hasn't appeared yet.

--

But "books" of "oneshots" are such an obnoxious Wattpad thing. This is a completely stupid use of AO3 from the "Please send me prompts" part that is usually in there to the way that unrelated fics are smashed together.

It's not against the rules, but it's a crappy use of AO3 befitting of n00bs.

Sadly, old hands at AO3 also make shitty works that are unrelated stories mashed together. They're often a whole set of kinktober fics or something where the trope tags and the ship tags are accurate, but you can't tell which ones go with which ones without searching the whole fic.

We regularly complain about that on here.

--

A much better way to use AO3 is to make a series titled "My x Reader Oneshots" or "All of my kinktober fics" where each separate story is its own work with its own tags.

My assumption is that this person is using the inaccurate tag both to get more eyeballs on their existing work and because they probably take prompts for that ship or something. (I'm basing this on the kinds of things people say on their oneshot books on Wattpad. Maybe they don't actually take prompts since you haven't mentioned it.)

Some people just don't care that they're annoying others and messing up the tags, but I think some actually don't realize how AO3 filtering works and have no idea this behavior is a nuisance.

On a lot of sites, both Wattpad and algorithm-driven social media, unless a post/work is very popular, it disappears out of sight. Even an inaccurate tag doesn't do that much.

On AO3, one is getting a full list of everything with the tag, going back however far. It's a library catalogue for which you should use accurate data. But this writer is probably thinking of tags more as advertising and a way to get their name out there so readers can follow them pre-emptively. They mean to write the ship in the future, so it's not really inaccurate... (And, tbh, if it were a single work and the ship just hadn't appeared yet, I would agree with them even though those are frustrating too.)

--

So no, they should not do this.

But it's not actually against the rules.

I would mute the annoying people who do this.

[tonydaddingham]

i know loads of other people have written and theorised about this, and there was an amazing post about how someone knew the actual owner of the bentley and how things had to get swapped around*, but for the sake of my own bloody sanity i needed to go through all the bentley snippets we see re: seat colours, interior door panel colours, and the bond transfers because otherwise it was going to drive me loopy-

*if anyone has a link for this post, please wing it over to me and i will link, it was really interesting!!!

let's start with the 1941 and 1967 flashbacks where we see the bentley: ✅ brown seats ✅ brown panels (as far as i can tell) ✅ bullet decal (1967):

then let's move to s1. tbh, i've only done this for the sake of full disclosure, but as far as i can tell, ✅ brown seats ✅ brown panels ✅ bullet decal (no pics but fairly content that they're there in all scenes):

*correction, apologies! middle right should be ep4!

and then, post bentley going up like kindling, and being resurrected by adam, we can see what looks to be black seats and, i'd hazard is an open window (given the lack of shimmer/reflection compared to the window on its left) - see we can't confirm the bullet decals. however - and mainly because it doesnt fit the pattern im about to lay out - this image is very zoomed in, and lighting quality isn't quite reliable. so personally, im considering this as inconclusive:

so now let's move onto s2. eps 1 and 2 are fairly straightforward, ✅ brown seats ✅ brown panels ✅ bullet decal:

episode 1: (3rd and 4th images are before and after the beelzebub interaction)

episode 2:

but here's where things get interesting (stating the obvious, i know that everyone knows this), but given that this is when aziraphale takes the bentley - after the very poignant "our car' discussion - we can see the following:

setting off from soho: ✅ brown seats ✅ bullet decal ❓brown panels, but likely

on the way to edinburgh: ❌ black seats ✅ bullet decal ❌ black panels

arrival in edinburgh: ❌ black seats ✅ bullet decal ❌ black panels

okay, well, he changed the bodywork and hubcaps too, so this makes sense. but black? for aziraphale? feels somewhat like it's a compromise; he's gone ostentatious on the outside, literally the colour of crowley's eyes, but red leather for the interior... is a little much. so he compromises - keeps the decals (to honour his knight in turtleneck armour), but changes the inside to a cool, suave black. very 007.

but then we go to ep4, and specifically when aziraphale is accosted by shax. now, clear point to remember - shax has to have permission to enter, and compared to ep2 when she asks but materialises inside anyway, she now waits for aziraphale to acquiesce. this is the difference between a demon's car, and a demon-and-angel-couple-who-arent-quite-yet-a-couple-but-thats-just-semantics' car. by this point, crowley has accepted, agreed, that it is their car.

hitchhiker: ❌ black seats ✅ bullet decal ❌ black panels

return to soho: ❌ black seats ✅ bullet decal ❌ black panels

ep5 carries on in much the same way as the end of ep4 - crowley has not changed anything since edinburgh, ❌ black seats ✅ bullet decal ❌ black panels (not pictured, but can be seen in the same bit as the first pic):

and then ep6, beloved. again, nothing has changed. crowley's window is, however, rolled down in the departure scene, so the decal can't be accounted for. that being said, im fairly sure we can be certain it's there (and i have a thought about why it's rolled down but tbh it's so arbitrary that it's barely worth mentioning imo). in any case, ❌ black seats ❓ bullet decal ❌ black panels:

now i know there's the whole separate thing about the exterior changing from light grey to dark grey/black, but tbh i think that is going to be down to the continuity issue with the original bentley used in s1. as for neil's answers on his asks, here and here... look. could be something of nothing, but i don't think personally it's a wider conspiracy; i think it could be just be either that yeah, maybe some of my colour assignments in the above screenshots are wrong, or he's doing his parent-teacher-writing thing of what do you think?

maybe not, maybe it was a continuity issue, and we just have to apply hc to this to get an explanation.

well, mine is just simply that it's not a nefarious issue or mucking about with time etc... i think crowley just accepted aziraphale's ownership, and whilst he drew the line at yellow bodywork (the respectable choice imo, tbh), he kept everything else.

[hippolotamus]

So this is 39...

I was gonna do one of those X amount of things I've learned by age whatever, but 39 is a lot of things and tbh I'm not sure if I’ve learned that many (as some of you would undoubtedly agree). So, in true Hippo fashion, please accept this list of random assorted things I've picked up like shiny trinkets/facts I've come to accept through the years.

Believe it or not you're worth the effort, love and care you try to give everyone else but don't think you deserve.

Usually the more I've tried to fit in and be like everyone else, the more unhappy I've been. Let your freak flag fly and see who sticks around in your blanket fort.

Legos, coloring, stuffies, swing sets, daydreaming and other ‘childish pursuits’ are not, in fact, just for kids.

when given the opportunity, a solo car concert is a solid choice

If you're constantly putting yourself in boxes for the benefit of someone else... honestly, what's the point?

Find at least one person you can drop the mask with and be fully, authentically you.

Groups break up, accidents and weather happen... just go to the concert/show/exhibit if you wanna instead of waiting for ‘next time’.

nobody has their shit figured out (especially anyone acting like they do). we are literally all out here just wingin' it.

Some of the best life advice comes from fictional characters

Nobody cares. Nobody is thinking about you the way you're thinking about you. - Alexis Rose

Life isn't meant to be lived in moderation. We only get one chance at this... What's the point of living if you're just going to keep yourself locked away from ever experiencing life? - Avi Mulvaney

Make sure you’re following your heart - Carla Price

You’re gonna be okay, kid - Christopher Diaz

just because you didn’t die, doesn’t mean you’re actually living

even if you think you’re ‘too young’ for something, i assure you you’re not

i love you isn't reserved for family and/or romantic partners.

Platonic soulmates are a thing and they do exist

Dates with yourself are 100% necessary and sometimes the best ones

there is zero deadline or requirement to find a romantic partner, get married, have kids, buy a house, etc...

Sexual and Romantic preferences are fluid. It's OK if you change your mind or didn't 'figure it out' until your 20s, 30s, 40s or beyond.

You're complete as you are. Without the degree, the partner, the [current arbitrary standard]

Cliche as hell but life doesn’t end because you didn’t get the job/house/partner. Odds are good it’s the best thing that could have happened and you’ll be delighted it did.

Blood may be thicker than water but Found Family, the Family We Choose, is often the best family

Shared genetics doesn't demand your unwavering loyalty

I'm human and I fuck up. I make the wrong choice, say the wrong thing, don’t say anything or say too much. Way more than I want to, and often in the name of trying to keep the peace.

Do you write, paint, draw, some other variety of art? Congratulations 🥳 you’re an author/artist. A real one. Yes, you!

As such (and I will die on this hill) you don’t owe anything to anyone. Not the fic, the next chapter, the snippet, the gif set, etc. Your works are not the price of membership to fandom.

Missing someone and being glad they’re not in your life anymore aren’t mutually exclusive concepts.

You’re more than enough, but not too much. Never too much. I promise.

headpats & forehead kisses 💞🦛

[eddieydewr]

I'm not the anon who asked you about Millie but I wanted to add a comment... Millie said something about how she couldn't wait for ST to end because it was preventing her from working on other things and rumor has it people affiliated with the show were upset with her. I don't think this slashed her screen time. I don't think El is a main character the way the fandom makes her out to be. She isn't the focus of the show so I think this was always going to happen. But I think Millie said that because El wasn't the focus and she was forced to realize that by the time S5 came around and was annoyed about it.

I find it interesting that she is getting paid more than anyone else even though she is barely in next season. It makes me wonder if they paid her so that she wouldn't say more dumb shit in interviews when she is promoting the show. I get the impression she likes to be the star and the center of everything and never had a good grasp of what the show was about. Also from the little I have heard about her parents they seem to think she is the greatest actress of all time but she isn't actually better than anyone else in the cast. I think it messed with her head. She didn't make the show what it is. Millie just strikes me as someone who needs to be front and center and sounds kind of hard to get along with tbh. I don't get the impression she gets along with most of the cast either. She let the fans (particularly younger fans) convince her she was the lead when she wasn't and then got annoyed when the story started wrapping up and she wasn't in focus so she said a dumb thing. But I doubt the writers would be petty enough to cut her screen time because of it (she says a lot of questionable things in interviews that make me wonder how well she is following the show. And is also really rude to Finn a lot). Will was always the focus of the story regardless of what Millie does.

bestie. bestie,

i have to agree and disagree lol i get why people would feel that way about millie but idk if you’ve seen my previous asks about millie’s family but i tend to blame her parents. i don’t think there’s anything wrong with a little girl being confident and while i don’t know how she felt about everything she’s been through growing up, it’s obvious her parents inflated her… idk, i don’t want to say ego because i feel like that’s a weird thing to say about children in general? but it’s possible she thought she was important and the main focus of the show. — otoh, i don’t like how she started to feel small for talking ~too much~ during press bc she spoke the same amount as the boys. it’s giving misogyny. especially when sadie joined the cast and people are like omg why can’t millie be classy and demure like sadie… what 😭 i thought millie had great energy as a kid and while she’s definitely still extroverted like her bestie noah, she seems like she has to be composed… although she’s been coming out of her shell more since getting engaged. i hope that means she has more self agency and isn’t being controlled by her family, but at the same time, they’re always around her even nowadays. THEY LIVE NEXT DOOR. and it seems like millie is stuck with netflix for a while longer. idk much about the electric state but it’s supposed to have potential for a great adaption and to perform well at box office, but it’s being released on netflix?? all because daddy brown says so. fock that grifting loser.

i understand why millie is ready to move on from ST but i don’t think she meant it in a negative way, she’s just ready to grow up. she’s married now so it must be weird to be portraying a character who is 14-17, or however old el is supposed to be in s5. when people gave her shit for saying she doesn’t watch movies, i don’t exactly blame her. she was pretty much forced into the acting industry and yeah, she obviously enjoyed it for a while before reality caught up with her. i believe she’s fond of the show, if her 011 tattoo is anything to go by, but it must be a reminder that she only got famous because her dad is jobless and wanted to get rich quick after all his other schemes and business ventures flopped. he’s also the reason millie gets paid more than the rest of the kids. he’s such a scrub 😭

how is millie rude to finn btw?

thenks for sending this btw, i hope i’m not coming across as harsh or angry lmao idk why because i’m a very different person but i can relate to millie and feel angry on her behalf because her relatives are an absolute shower of cunts and idek if she’s aware of it … but i also get why some people find her off putting. as long as they don’t go too far fjfjsk cos she’s not that awful, surely.

[a-queer-seminarian]

big ol' worry dump, i promise i'll post something rebloggable soon but i'm still processing everything and have not had time to write it coherently! cw queerphobia from the pulpit, church hurt, verbal violence, and brief csa mention (not a specific case)

SO. for anyone not keeping up, this past Sunday i visited my childhood church in ohio, and was devastated when near the end of his homily (Catholic word for sermon haha) my childhood pastor suddenly switched from celebrating the Spirit who bursts through closed doors to proclaiming that The Church Is Under Attack from people like the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. :/

After he finished and sat down, i stood up and got behind the lectern/pulpit to remind him and everyone in the room that queer and trans people have the Holy Spirit too, because his words implied otherwise. And i could not risk that any other person there felt suddenly and utterly alone — i had to make sure they knew that not everyone agreed with our priest's message.

(Here's a place you can watch a clip of the homily — obviously mega content warning for homophobia, please keep yourself safe and remember you are loved!! — as well as my response)

Not long into speaking, I was escorted peacefully out of the building. Two parishioners followed and found me outside, and thanked me for what i said. They were very sweet <3

As we were talking, another parishioner stormed out and got very, very verbally violent. It was scary shit.

Other parishioners eventually came out and led Scary Man away, thankfully. The church's other, younger & newer priest, Father Jim, also came out to apologize profusely to us. Then i went home. My wife and i flew home to Georgia the next morning.

____

and...stuff keeps happening.

i did not expect this to make the news, but it did. the Cleveland Plain Dealer wrote on it, and so have other papers across the country.

an officer called me to ask if i wanted to press charges on Scary Man. I don't, because i'm just not convinced the results would be helpful to actually stopping him from doing what he did again.

if anyone has resources or someone smart i could talk to for advice on alternatives to cops & court for a situation like this, please hit me up!!!

after agreeing to an interview with the Plain Dealer reporter, which used my first and last name, folks have been finding me on social media to offer their support, which actually has been so uplifting and i plan to post some of the messages later!

my parents are proud of me and support me BUT my mom is worried sick that someone is going to, like, find out where i live and come attack me. i'd be more worried that they find out who my parents are and go attack them, tbh.

i've had more sudden spikes of adrenaline in the past five days than i have in the past like, 2 years lol

i've also talked with more different individuals on the phone in the past five days than i had over the rest of 2023 so far

i was scrolling through twitter last night and randomly came across a tweet featuring a TikTok of a cut-down version of my priest's homily + my response...i really don't like what parts they cut out, or what they titled it. and it's got over a million views. :OOO

there's a lot of confusion in the replies — people who don't realize i'm a former parishioner, not an active one; people not knowing how to gender me which is fine but it's, you know, getting a little grating; and of course, people resorting to saying Father Tim must be "closeted gay" or otherwise have a Sinister Secret himself to say what he said...I hate that kind of rhetoric.

Not every person who spouts homophobia is secretly gay. The Biggest Homophobes are usually, shockingly, straight.

And flippantly suggesting that anyone, even a Catholic priest, is a pedophile without facts to back that accusation up only serves to harm csa victims — because then when there really is a case that needs to be pursued, people may not take it seriously.

one big thing that's bothering me about how everyone on every side of the debate is interpreting Father Tim's homily is they are focusing mostly on his condemnation of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence — and while I certainly oppose what he said about them, it's actually the first half of his message that scared me more: the stuff about the church being under attack and how Christians must defend it. He ended with a vague reminder to do so "peacefully," without any examples about how that's even done. And obviously, Scary Man didn't absorb that part of the message.

sigh. i was really hoping that agreeing to an interview with the plain dealer reporter who wrote the first article would give me a chance to explain why i felt i had to interrupt Mass, but unfortunately they didn't include those quotes. i'm really disappointed.

that article's title also says "attendee fired back," using exactly the kind of violence-coded language that I had a problem with in F. Tim's homily. So that's really unfortunate.

which is why i want to write up my perspective. i did send a long ass email to father tim the other night explaining what i did, why his message was hurtful AND fueled his parishioner's violence, and asking if we could talk about alternative ways to hold Scary Man accountable beyond the law. he hasn't responded yet.

anyway. yeah. it's been. a lot. good vibes and prayers are so very appreciated! and seriously, if anyone has resources about alternatives to legal action when we're dealing with someone who got very verbally violent and physically aggressive, i'd love some help figuring out what to do. also any thoughts about like, keeping myself safe? yeah

Anyway, gonna end with the affirmation that God made us Good; human diversity is what it looks like to be in the image of an Infinite creator; and queerness is a holy gift that the Body of Christ can't do without!!

Amen and amen.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I just read your poly stsg x reader post and. Oh my lord. PLEASEEEEE I love them more than anything and I just need to scream and yell about them until my throat is hoarse and sore and I physically cannot talk anymore I’m so serious

the way I feel like in a poly relationship they both absolutely love spoiling and caring for u, but in different ways. Hear me out:

Suguru shows his love by pretty much just taking on the responsibility of a caregiver, because he just falls into that role so easily. He’s the type to cook the foods he KNOWS you love the most for you, to wash your hair for you while you bathe in the luxury bathroom that’s dimly lit with your favourite scented candles and the tub that’s filled with bubbles and any extras you ask for, to brush and play with your hair while you do your night time skincare routine, to offer you a massage at the slightest sign of stress (his hands would be perfect for giving a massage I will fight anyone who disagrees) to always bring back your fav snacks and drinks if he sees them when he’s in public, to take on your own household chores if he notices you’re having a rough and/or unproductive day… <333 he’s so wife….

And then of course best boy satoru who loves like he might actually have a heart attack if he has to go one second without showing his utmost adoration for you (he’s a drama queen). but I love the fact we’ve all agreed he’s like a puppy- because in my head HE IS !! he acts like a lovesick puppy, on your tail 24/7. He’s the type of boyfriend (or husband ykwim….) who when you’re hanging out together and you get up to go to the bathroom, would follow you out of instinct because he’s just so used to being a clingy little bastard. and don’t even get me STARTED on the spoiling- I know you’ve mentioned it in a previous fic and I can’t help but agree so hard. but it’s not like he just gives you money and leaves you to your own devices, i get the feeling he’d want to be involved if you decide to go on a shopping spree. He’s the type to be totally fine with carrying all the shopping bags (I mean have u SEEN those muscles….), and just pay so much attention to you that it’s almost (almost) overwhelming. Paying full attention to which stores and items catch your eye, which clothes you pick out, etc etc

Omfg this was…. Longer than I intended it to be 💀You’ve made me love them too much. You’ve corrupted me with the idea of them and how amazing they’d be as bfs (husbands.) and I am completely content with that fact. 🙌🙌

THE WAY MY ANONS ARE LITERALLY HANDFEEDING ME ATP THANK U THANK U i feel like a little baby bird being fed worms. reading this healed me UR SOOOOO RIGHT ANON <333

where do i even BEGIN this was so cute and lovely and U GET IT U DO!!!! sugu is soooo wife and toru is so husband <3333 they love taking care of you so much!!!! 100% the type of bfs/husbands to die on the hill that making you happy is their job, their duty, theyre both sooo serious abt it.

i genuinely think doting on u is a stress relief for sugu LMAO like he can only relax if you’re wolfing down your favorite food and humming happily, or putty beneath his heavy hands as they massage your scalp….. he’s such a caregiver it’s insane. i can’t see him any other way. ABSOLUTELY the type to massage u all the time have u SEEN his hands…. u get him anon. he’s just so eager to care for u all the time. ESP through cooking i just feel like that’s such a comfortable way for him to show his love!! he will always always always joke abt how that’s his secret ingredient even if u and toru roll ur eyes <33

(this is just a sidethought of mine but tbh i dont picture sugu having a great relationship w his parents — i do however think he has a lot of love for his mother even if its complicated… i imagine him remembering the soup she used to make him when he was sick and making it for u and toru too </3 it makes him feel warm. and so lucky to have a home and family with you two, one that makes him feel safe.)

honestly i think sugu is so eager to be ur caretaker that u just kinda have to trick him into letting u dote on him for once 😭😭 mind games and everything. he just feels more comfortable giving than receiving in any situation. but as soon as ur hands are massaging his shoulders hes out like a light <333 soft lil snores <3333 and he’ll pamper u even more to make up for it when he wakes up!!!

AND TORUUUUU MY DEAREST MY LITTLE PUPPYDOG MY GIRLFRIEND i love him. ur so right!! i think his love seeps out allllll the time and it’s very direct, warm hugs and kisses and gifts <33 but i absolutely agree that hes not the type to just give u money and call it a day — he loves spoiling you and to him that entails taking you wherever you want to go, doing whatever you want to do, buying you whatever makes you happy <333 if u want to go shopping he gets sooooo excited i just KNOW it. carries ur bags and gushes over ur outfits and makes u give him a whole fashion show in whatever boutique hes taken u to hhhhh hes a sweetiepie..

ALSOOO he 100% buys himself outfits to match urs. AND he’ll get one for sugu too. he’s the type to buy u friendship bracelets LOL hes so cute!! if he buys one of u smth then in his mind he HAS to buy the other + himself smth too just for the sake of matching. if you ask him to go get u a vanilla milkshake he’ll return w one for u, a strawberry milkshake for himself and a chocolate milkshake for sugu bc look!! we’re matching <333 HES SO CUTEEE 🥺🥺 (also for some reason i just know hes the one who proposes. sugu has a whole elaborate proposal planned out and already bought the rings but satoru beats him to it and he wants to be angry but he can’t. he’s too happy. and ofc satoru makes sure that ur rings have matching motifs <33 star/sun/moon or something of the sort he is a sappp)

ANYWAY anon this made my whole day i am EATING everything u wrote licking the crumbs off my fingers <3333 i love domestic poly stsg like i love nothing in this universe theyre just the best husbands in the world i think

[inchidentally]

I don't think Oscar and lando is good friends. They might be friends but not good friends. Their characteristics are so different they just can't become besties.

I'm unable to read tone from asks anon so I'm going to lean toward this not being intended in a bad way!

(also quick apology bc some of these asks have answers that overlap so I'm repeating myself a lot - block "inchreplies" to be spared lol)

the first thing to clear up is the idea that to be best friends you have to like the same things or be similar people which I personally (jokingly) take huge offense about. my entire tightest friend group consists of none of us agreeing on ANYTHING. if anything liking someone just because you're similar means you've got less of a friendship than people who love each other regardless of what you perceive as terrible takes on things. obv I'm talking about frivolous shit and not like human rights etc.

but also reminder: Lando doesn't have besties in F1. not one. the whole car|ando encroaching on his own brand that he's worked extremely hard for all on his own is definitely wearing thin on him and it's clearly why he was a bit iffy doing the whole let's do a really obvious bromance schtick with Daniel sometimes. so he's making it very clear that there are some guys he spends down time with in F1… and then there are his real private life non-professional friends. but professionally as a driver, Lando is Lando. he's not one half of anything and he's not another driver's creation or admirer. he is F1 driver Lando Norris, then a McLaren driver, then a teammate, and wayyyy down below that are the guys on the grid he hangs with sometimes (Carlos, Daniel, Max, Charles, Yuki, sometimes Lewis).

so in terms of if Oscar and Lando are good friends I think it would be hard to class anyone on the grid as Lando's "good friend" and not just a friend. Ga|ex is really the only F1 pairing I'd refer to as good friends and not just guys who seek each other out to chat during down time, but who actually cross over into the winter break as well. I don't follow the whole grid super closely but I can definitely say Lando doesn't have anything to do with guys like Carlos and Daniel if it's not to fill time during racing weekends. Lando is a businessman and a lot of us forget that because he's so open and often relatable but this dude is a CEO, a content creator and a top F1 driver - his life is FULL. his real closest friendships are happening off the clock and the most we see of those friendships are caught on his streams and sometimes his videos just with Max.

honestly part of what a lot of us really like about the landoscar friendship is that they've gone completely against the grain of the usual bromance/PR thing that new teammates do and they're just being themselves. Lando cannot hide a single thing on his face and his mouth isn't much better at it so the fact that he is always smiling and happy around Oscar is as genuine proof as you can get that he likes Oscar. even despite (or maybe partly because of?) Oscar being so quiet and calm and unlike the other drivers on the current grid. and the fact that Lando has gone through the entire LN4 Spectrum of Different Moods and Emotions around Oscar and Oscar just seems to want to study Lando like a bug he is particularly fond of is also genuine since that boy wouldn't perform for the cameras without a gun to his head.

but tbh anon more important than that is that Lando is no longer the rookie playing second fiddle to a seasoned driver and he isn't the baby brother to a PR darling, he's Mr. McLaren and he's got his own rookie who looks up to him. which is about damn time for someone who's been in F1 for 5 years. AND they've already had a fiercely competitive first season together where they've both responded with respect and maturity to people desperate to stir things up between them. if that doesn't result in them playing gay for the cameras or having shared hobbies then I can't really say I care.

and while I absolutely think we should all enjoy any rpf we want in the privacy of tumblr's lack of an algorithm or popular appeal, publicly I kiiiiind of feel like it's time for Lando to no longer be defined by bromances or have to answer about them. I'd even lean a bit into saying maybe he's done with that as well. so landoscar not having the usual bromancey corporate engagement hashtag appeal feels pretty comfortable.

[gublersg1rl]

hey queen i just saw your recent posts and ignore that im biased for a second as a little innocent angel who sometimes posts smut but i agree w the anon i feel like you actually already don’t reblog/say much nsfw stuff and in the rare instance that you do it’s usually just really funny and makes me giggle a lot bc ur such a funny girl!!! i also don’t think anyone at all considers you to be like obsessed w sex or dirty or whatever like that’s sooo far from my perception of you i follow some blogs where it’s literally all they ever talk about but honestly you post nsfw stuff so rarely i feel like most people probably don’t even think about it if that makes sense like nobody’s like oh willow reblogged something sexual that’s weird she must be really into sex!! i feel like for being in a fanfic based community your blog is already way more SFW than like 90% of other blogs tbh i bet most of the blogs who follow u that aren’t even nsfw are like more nsfw than your blog and also idk when you do post something nsfw you do it in a rlly silly way that makes me laugh so much so i am definitely biased BUT it is your blog and if you’re not comfortable reblogging or talking abt nsfw things that’s literally so totally fair u have to do what makes u comfortable at the end of the day

(don’t count how many times i said like im serious don’t do it……)

also this probably could have been a dm or a comment idk why im doing it this way 💖💖

HI MY ANGEL BABY GIRL!! i’m out rn and a little distracted so i hope this response makes sense 😭😭honestly this made me realize i think i post about nsfw stuff more than i do i looked through my most recent posts and only saw like 2 “inappropriate” posts and like you said they weren’t serious at all

ANYWHO

it’s not that i am uncomfortable with posting about sex because since i’m basically anonymous on here it feels easier to talk about that kinda stuff tho i still try not to get that graphic and also not to get into but i just have a pretty complicated relationship with sex LMFAOOOO so sometimes i’m like kmg im so gross i need to delete my blog and start over im too graphic im too sexual and then 3 days later i reblog smut LOLLL

im just in my feelings and a sex hater rn but it will pass in a couple days and i’ll probs make a silly sex post bcuz i’m an animal 😔💘

this is probs all over the place i apologize but thank you for this my lover you’re so rational and smart this made me feel a lot better mwah mwah mwah