#the fact that those people think that is sad and pathetic

[theweirdcobrakaifan]

I’m sorry but the fact that people (those new “cobra Kai fans” that say Daniel is a glazers) say that chozen would agreed with Johnny for what he said about Mr miyagi is so fucking horrible to me and fully wrong because if anything chozen would have did worse to Johnny then what Daniel did if he heard Johnny say that mr miyagi was a liar and theif and those people act like chozen wouldn’t agree with Daniel chozen would be on Daniel side 100% because he know fighting with anger and how it could lead you down a path of hate and he know that mr Miyagi is a good person and yes he has some flaws but he is still a good person

This is why I love chozen he literally Daniel like hero like he will go all out for Daniel 100%

He the only one that stick by him in s5 when Amanda left him and he was ready to cut off silver head chozen you are best boyfriend fr

[misstycloud]

What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?

Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.

Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.

It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.

Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.

Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.

Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.

“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”

“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.

He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”

The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“

“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”

Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.

Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.

Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.

Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.

Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.

Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.

He needed more.

Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.

Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.

While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.

There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”

Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.

Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.

He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”

“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”

His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.

Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.

He waited.

You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.

He waited some more.

You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.

He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.

‘Unable to send message’

What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?

Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.

Please come back to him, he needs you.

————

A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

There is a special place in hell for all the people behind these bot attacks that harm AO3 and the communities we built.

A reminder that Archive of Our Own is not Instagram or TikTok. It isn’t run by a big company with money and power. The site is a non-profit site run by volunteers (fans), for fans. And its main purpose is to bring people within the same fandom together and connect artists with audiences who would love and appreciate these artists’ works. It’s the only platform without any ads, without any censorship, without any of these capitalism bullshit. It doesn’t make users pay for any features and the only source of money they get, to keep the site up and running, is through donations. It’s literally a safe place for every fandom.

To think that it’s a target just because it’s easier to attack than those huge companies is just so sad.

Not to mention that there are so many genuine guest users out there (people who aren’t logged in / don’t have an AO3 account), and these people are directly affected by this whole thing, because they are no longer able to comment and connect with their favorite creators — and this still affects creators directly because I know for a fact that getting comments and being able to connect with their audience mean the world to them. I don’t blame AO3 for disabling guest comments altogether.

I do blame and curse the fuckers behind these bot attacks though.

If you try to sabotage AO3, out of all the other platforms out there, you are pathetic. You’re not just attacking a small, independent company, you’re trying to tear apart people’s communities and safe place. Disrespectfully, fuck you. Burn in hell.

Mad respect to all the brave soldiers that are AO3 volunteers who work harder than god fighting these scums.

I know these brave soldiers will win in the end (they always did, this isn’t their first battle, mind you), but in the meantime I’m sending them all my love and respect. They truly are the heroes.

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST part ii

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich. i’ll be in touch with when.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

[katiascraft]

“am I too much for you? maybe I’m too much for everyone” | CL16

parings: Charles Leclerc x insecure!reader

summary: you feel insecure and you’re struggling but Charles makes sure you know how important you are to the world (specially his world).

now playing: “If I weren’t me” by Katherine Li

warnings: not English native speaker could there be errors. None proofread. Talk about sadness and destructive inner talk. Insecure reader. Readers pov’s.

words: +1,5k words.

a/n: heyyyy I am back!!! I disappeared for a year 💀 consistency it’s not my thing I guess. I’m finally finishing university this year!! So I guess I’ll have more time to write. Hope you like it! First on Charles. New obsession: F1 drivers. Get ready I got plenty more on my plans :p. Remember to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3

MASTERLIST

The piano tiles made the sound of the soundtrack of my sadness in this moment. My fingers touched them softly like they were fragile - like me.

Today was a nightmare from the start. Since I woke up I had a knot in my stomach that became bigger and bigger as the time passed through my routine. Sometimes itʼs really hard for me to do daily tasks such as cleaning or even eating. And it was harder if I need to go to events or meetings.

I have episodes of deep sadness Iʼve been treating on therapy. Sometimes I just canʼt control it. Today was one of those days where black and grey took over everything I felt and did. One way I found by being suggested by my therapist was writing down every thought of pain to find kind of a relief. Today itʼs really hard. Iʼm struggling really hard.

Iʼve been alone the whole day. Charles had to go to the Ferrari factory and do his driver tasks as usual. When I woke up he was gone. And maybe that contributed even more to my desperate and pathetic situation. Though I shouldnʼt talk about it like that and be more gentle with myself. It always felt to me negativity has always been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time.

Playing piano helped me so much. Write a song about my pain. Try to give a little light to all of this mess I find myself emerged in. Itʼs really hard for me to open up and seek help when I need it. Specially when it comes to Charles. I donʼt wanna be a burden to him. And I donʼt wanna stress him out with all of my dark side. I always try to brush it off when heʼs around. Most times I just pretend Iʼm happy and everything itʼs alright. As if I wasnʼt feeling too much for him. Or too less. Like Iʼm not worth of his love. Of his attention. Of his smiles. Of everything he did for me.

The fact that Charles asked me out had me shocked. Iʼve never felt like I could compete with all the models and influencers and singers and every really beautiful girl in this world. Iʼve never felt beautiful nor attractive. Yes Iʼm pretty good making jokes. And I talk too much. But Iʼve always felt I cringed people out. Dating people wasnʼt a thing I was really good at. Actually I sucked. And I think I still do. Always overthinking and second guessing every move. Every promise. Everything.

Charles was so sweet to me. He said “youʼre beautiful. Iʼm sure people tell you all the time. But you really areˮ. I couldnʼt help but get really nervous and blush. The most beautiful man Iʼve ever seen was talking to me and saying all of that. I blinked a couple of times. My smile huge. I just laughed softly trying to brush it off.

Since then we became a team. Inseparable. Charles became my best friend. My rock. I donʼt know what I ever did to deserve his love. The way he loved me was so gentle. So caring and loving. At first was hard because his love language was physical touch and that was something I wasnʼt used to. But little by little I got used to and felt amazing. Iʼve never felt so comfortable with anyone but him.

I hate my body. I feel ashamed of my personality. Most times I feel so dumb. So stupid.

I didnʼt realized I was already crying when I felt my tears dropping in my hands on the piano. I didnʼt realized I kept playing in auto-mode. When I was conscious again I started crying badly. I started shaking. I felt so bad. So guilty for even feeling this way. I didnʼt realized Charles have arrived home when I felt his deep voice from behind.

“Baby... whatʼs wrong? Youʼve been crying for a whileˮ I heard his voice and that sent shivers down my spine. I try to hold it together because I feel so embarrassed heʼs seeing me like this.

He sat next to me and hugged me. I hid my face on his neck feeling contempt. Thing is I started crying worse. I couldnʼt control it once it took on me.

“Itʼs okay baby. Itʼs okay.ˮ He whispered on my head while he stroke my hair and my arm pulling me closer. I thanked him mentally for this. I never thought I needed it so much.

Took a while until I calmed myself in his body. I part from him slowly and whipped my face with my hands. After I did he did the same. He whipped my tears so gently. He did the same looking me with bright eyes. Worry was all over his face. I licked my lips. “Iʼm sorry.ˮ I said quietly almost a whisper.

He denided with his head taking my head into his hands and stroked it softly.

“donʼt be sorry baby. Iʼm worried. Whatʼs wrong? Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt home to be with you. Why didnʼt you called me?ˮ I could feel the worry in his voice deep and cracking.

“I didnʼt want to bother to be honest. Itʼs one of those days. A really hard dayˮ my tears wanted to go out again but I holded them.

I saw his eyes turned into a sad look. He leaned on me and kissed my cheek to hugged me strongly in his arms afterwards. I buried my head in his shoulder. His smell calmed me down. I holded him pretty close to me. Strongly as him. I didnʼt want to let go.

“do you wanna talk about what you are feeling love?ˮ He whispered softly. I swallowed hard and pulled away from his so I could look into his beautiful eyes. I loved his eyes. So bright so blue sometimes. To me they felt like staring at the ocean. I stroked his face gently. He grabbed my legs on the little couch in front of the piano it our living room.

“This is one of those days where I donʼt feel enough or maybe too much to handle... all of this darkness in me that sometimes I just canʼt control it. You deserve someone confident and happy just like youˮ I told him softly and honestly. And it felt good to take it out of me for finally. I wanted to cry again but I was making my best efforts to keep it together.

“Cher... you are more than enough for me. You are the most beautiful soul Iʼve ever met. The most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen. You are the sweetest most caring and fun person. Always there for people. You have the brightest personality. Every time you enter a room you shine. Everyone smiles. To me youʼre happiness though I know that isnʼt the whole you. Youʼre human baby. You are allowed to feel. And to not be okay. And to be okay too. You are not a burden for me. Youʼre my best friend. Mon amour. My future wife. The one whoʼs always there for me. My shoulder to cry on. The one with the greatest jokes. The life of every party I assist. You give a meaning to my life. A reason to live. You are a great daughter. The best friend someone could ask for. The greatest sister. You are a light for every single person that knows you y/n. Donʼt ever feel that you are too much to handle. And I really wanna go and kill the people who made you ever feel you were, I sware. You are amazing baby.ˮ While he was talking you couldnʼt hold it together. You just started crying. He let you do it while he whipped your tears lovingly. He seeing you like this broke his heart. You didnʼt deserve to feel like this. And he wished he could take away all of your pain. That you could see yourself the way he sees you. And feel how happy and enamoured you made him feel. “You can talk to me every time you need itˮ he continued. “you can trust me and we can figure it out together. You donʼt have to go through it alone. Okay? I love you with everything I am y/n. If I could I would take all of this pain away and just make you feel how I feel about you. I promise to me youʼre even better than Carlosˮ he said lastly jokingly making me laugh through my crying.

Now he had a huge smile on his face knowing he could make you feel better. I gave him a peck on his lips as a thank you and as an I love you.

“I donʼt know what I would do without you Charles...ˮ I said sincerely and full of love in between the lines. He gave another kiss back but now it was deeper in feelings. We kissed for a while and it felt that as the kiss continued my pain was going away feeling better every second. After the kissed I hugged him tightly. He gave kisses to my neck making me giggle a little. “I love you Charlie. Youʼre my angelˮ I whispered on his shoulder and he tightened the hug in response.

“And you are mine chérie“ he said burying his face on my shoulder.

——————————————————————————————

Charlie won COTA 🥹.

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have ideas my inbox is open for requests!

[stump-not-found]

you mentioned once before how you think ford makes bill worse... do you mind explaing how/genq (this is NOT an attack in any form or way! youer characterisations of bill and ford have been ON POINT every chapter that gets realsed and every comic you draw... im really curious as to how ford makes bill worse to understand it too)

i unfortunately do not remember saying this ! i say a lot of things with my mouth

i do think those two are like an emotional feedback loop . kind of got crabs in a bucket vibes, if the crabs were stabbing each other, and the bucket was also stabbing the crabs . at first it was fun but then one crab said "i don't want to stab anymore" and the other one went "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU" . like you do . im prolly gonna ramble a bit so shoving it under the readmore lol

hrmmm if i had to guess it's probably just the fact that ford is not a great dude . and he genuinely just likes bill's attitude and behaviors, even the nasty stuff . because it's really gratifying to be around someone who sees your hard edges, and instead of being repelled by that they're like . fuck yeah . then you both just feed into that infinitely and giggle for ever lalala . it's not even like ford broke the cycle willingly he just got his feelings hurt about bill lying and bill decided to blow his entire shit up because he's just a sad, pathetic coward . will do anything to protect his stupid ego even if it means ruining everything all the time constantly . sure you could have gotten everything u ever wanted but that would have required you looking even a lil vulnerable so honestly man you honestly should just blow up your office building tbqh

also i genuinely don't know that bill has had many people in his life that actually like him so i gotta believe ford was like the worst drug known to man: validation

all this being said i'm not really someone who likes to think of any one person as like . bad or evil . it's reductive and boring, for both bill and ford . bill's definitely worse but he's also not human ?? not that that really matters because humans do some incredibly heinous shit . there's not a one-sized-fits-all moral answer here . also bill's just silly he's just a silly guy

so yah if ford makes bill worse its probably just that he's the one guy who's gonna hear bill say "just don't call me late for dinner" and actually laugh for real at that joke . and then also goes into a whole worship kink which i cannot imagine helped the bill situation at all . like idk what i would do if i met the literal smartest guy in the world & he built me a basement shrine with little to no prompting just because i gave him an epic blowjob . i think i would also go insane

well actually no i would hate that . personally . but i'm not a triangle . maybe being a triangle makes that like . normal and fun who knows

[rpfofficial]

can i be so so so ernst for a second. and by a second i mean a really long ranty post. but it pisses me off how many people characterise edward little as incompetent or useless or something along those lines because i think that reading misunderstands him entirely . like he is actually good at his job. he's competent in his role as first lieutenant to the extent that he can do what the job would Normally require of him, and do it well. obviously he doesn't function under the dire intense conditions of the show because who would, he's never done this shit before, he's second in command to a depressed alcoholic who takes at least 2 months to get his shit together, he's sworn to secrecy about said depression and alcoholism, he's had loyalty to his captain and adherence to the system and hierarchy deeply engrained in him because ofcourse he has, every navy personnel on that expedition has, and the workplace environment is DIABOLICAL aboard those ships and he is so eager to do well and so eager to please and so devoted to crozier that he operates on 90% anxiety & stress and 10% willpower. The fact that he fumbles at terror camp when the mutiny starts is not because he's incompetent, that is literally the worst situation to be in when you have just been thrust into a command position WHICH HE WASNT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE IN because fitzjames is THERE but he's too busy being a christ figure in his tent to pay attention to what is happening and little is doing his best. he doesn't have the knowledge and experience crozier has, sure, but in his defense crozier did not leave him well equipped and is frankly putting far too much pressure on him at literally every turn! edward little is not useless, he's overworked and underappreciated and he's literally sad all the time can you please cut him some slack. you can see in subtle moments where he does take charge that he's good, he's good at this, he's amiable and considerate and efficient. he follows orders well, and maybe that's his downfall, he's too good at following orders. when he finally steps up to the mantle and takes charge and has the confidence to make a decision in authority, the rest of the men have already made a decision without him, and that's not his fault is it!!!!!! by all means edward little is pathetic, a people pleaser, has little to no self confidence and is overall a wet cat of a human being but i will not stand by and see people call him incompetent and useless, that's what francis crozier wants you to believe and do you really want to take a page out of crozier's book on how to treat edward little? No you don't

[mariacallous]

The problem with judging people for their sins is that the internet makes it exceedingly easy to invent sins. In February, Buzzfeed News reported on a man filmed by a passing TikTokker, who then uploaded the footage with text suggesting he’d lied to her to get out of a date. That was false—he’d never met her—but it didn’t stop people from ridiculing him as the video racked up over a million views.

Similarly, last year, an Australian woman objected to being made the star of a stunt in which a TikTokker asked her to hold a bouquet, strolled off, and then congratulated himself on performing a random act of kindness. Sixty million hits later, his viewers were praising him for brightening the day of a woman they judged to be old, lonely, and sad. But she objected to that characterization and declared the whole affair “dehumanizing.” She hadn’t asked to have her day interrupted, let alone be thrust into a global spotlight.

And then there are those incapable of even grasping the situation. In 2022, a TikTok channel was called out for surreptitiously filming the homeless with drones. Loved ones with dementia are put on TikTok to be infantilized or have their worst moments gawked at. Parents transform their children into viral stars. Sometimes, those children grow up and call them out for warping their youth.

When people tell us it was harrowing and wrong to be unwillingly cast into the spotlight, we nod and agree. But those responsible typically offer only half-hearted apologies or remain unrepentant, while their millions of views discourage reflection. Often, moral scolding is implicit in the video and explicit in the comments: It is wrong to be homeless. It is gross to be ill. It is pathetic to be unhappy.

To be sure, crass and hateful public figures are worthy of ridicule. And we’ve been using the internet to judge strangers for as long as we’ve had the internet. But the common trait shared by much of the most obnoxious content today is that someone chose to elevate a stranger for no reason beyond their own gratification, attracting attention at a scale unimaginable in the days of relics like Hot or Not and People of Wal-Mart.

At best, these are misguided attempts to juice the poster’s social media presence. At worst, they are pointless cruelty. That cruelty can be addictive, but we can and must resist the urge to gawk at strangers against their will. It should, in fact, be considered rude, insulting, and wrong to have uploaded a stranger against their will. We would not go out into the streets and stir up a mob against a random person. Why are we so comfortable with doing it online?

Much of what we post online is innocent and will remain so. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, while the average number of Instagram followers, according to one estimate, is just 150. You likely use these platforms to follow celebrities and brands, and to interact with friends and family. These are, for most users, insular communities. Vacation photos with friends or a family portrait at Christmas are unlikely to attract trolls and creeps, and even if they do, they are clearly posted in good faith.

But some platforms, like TikTok and Twitter, are more exposed to the vagaries and cruelties of the wider world. Anything you post on them can wind up in the feed of people who don't follow you. Therefore, anyone can become the day’s punching bag. Does your relative really understand what could happen if you put your interaction with them on TikTok?

Maybe you know better than to post Grandpa on Twitter without thinking it through. We know whether our friends and family like attention and whether they understand social media ecosystems, and with this knowledge we are capable of making informed decisions as to whether and on what platforms we should post them. We do not have the same knowledge of strangers. That can be a reason to not post them, but it can also be an excuse to post them without thinking.

If it came out that an influencer uploaded an interaction with a stranger to a private Facebook page or Discord server solely so their closest friends and family could pick them apart, it would rightly be considered misanthropic. And yet uploading a stranger so millions can mock and over-analyze them is just the business of content. That business needs to change.

It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll ever eliminate jackassery from the internet, but a social media mishap involving a friend or family member can be resolved with communication.

It is harder for a complete stranger to succeed in that endeavor, especially when “Look at this weirdo I found, please gape at them” is the text or subtext of so many videos and posts by accounts that thrive on content starring the unwilling. Such content must become anathema. Particular thought must be taken before posting an interaction with a stranger, and the consent of a stranger to be posted at all is necessary to retain an internet that is even remotely civil. If someone does post a stranger without their consent, they should be shunned, not rewarded with the attention they crave.

The vast majority of disputes with unruly neighbors are solved by talking to them. Ideally, the law only gets involved when lines of communication break down. The same can be true of digital disputes.

We have privacy laws. If I were to post your name, address, and phone number, you would have legal recourse. And yet the same is not true for your image. Today, at least, you surrender your right to privacy by stepping into public. But outdated privacy laws are catching up to the abuses of government and tech, and the issues raised by social media virality could be next.

Still, a blanket law against posting strangers without their consent would be draconian and unworkable. There are too many variables, too many circumstances, and simply too many cases. However, whole generations who have been online since birth—sometimes unwillingly—could grow up to be more sensitive to the downsides of posting without permission, prompting a normative shift.

More specific laws are already evolving to handle some scenarios raised by nonconsensual virality, specifically as it applies to children. Irina Raicu of Santa Clara University’s Internet Ethics Program points out that a recent French law entitles child influencers to demand that platforms scrub all trace of them once they turn 16. The YouTube career their parents create for them—or force on them—need not be what defines them as adults. The United States is considering a similar law; a woman who testified to a House committee said the details of her first period were turned into content.

Another law being considered in France would make parents responsible for their children’s privacy rights. Le Monde cites, as an example of fame-seeking behavior that France is hoping to discourage, TikTokkers scaring their children by pretending to call the police on them, and an Instagrammer who smeared chocolate on her 4-year-old and convinced them they were covered in feces. We will eventually wonder how parents were able to get away with this at all.

So those who cannot consent are starting to be protected. But what about those who could consent, but don’t? And what if, as some unwillingly viral subjects have found, reaching out and asking for posts to be removed is met with silence or rejection?

In reality we already practice social media consent; it is not unusual to ask a friend if they’re alright with having a picture posted to Instagram, even though the face they make as they try to cram an unusually large sandwich into their mouth is not a flattering one. And yet we continually fail to extend this courtesy to strangers, either because we think nothing of it or because it is our job to go viral at all costs.

Some of this, as Raicu points out, can be blamed on the platforms we use, which encourage hair triggers. “There are ways in which the design choices behind many websites make it harder for all of us to think about consent,” Raicu wrote in an email. She points to the sheer ease of posting and the fact that norms around social media consent have not solidified. But she notes that platforms could “introduce some friction” in the form of, essentially, reminders that other people are human before you hit Post.

Future platforms could work to curtail shaming, either out of moral compulsion or legal necessity. Much as you can report harassment to social media platforms, posts that have elevated you to infamy against your will should be fair targets.

Lines have been drawn before. YouTube banned dangerous pranks and challenges after people were hurt and complaints mounted. TikTok is trying to tweak its algorithm in response to growing concerns that young users are awash in content encouraging suicide and incel ideology. Content made from those unable or unwilling to consent is a broad category that cannot be wiped out with algorithmic tweaks, but the damage is still happening, and we have the power to collectively declare that some forms of content are unacceptable and must no longer be tolerated.

Perhaps, given the increasing universality of social media usage—83 percent of Gen Z uses TikTok—platform-embedded tools could establish consent. Before posting a video of someone, an influencer could ask their username and send them a simple, stock contract granting them permission to post. Again, this need not apply to every random photo of friends. It could be optional, or it might apply only when an account reaches a certain threshold of followers. But a lack of permission could give a user cause when they cite unwanted virality and negative attention when asking for a post to be removed.

But most of the work will fall to people. It's difficult enough to remember that the man being a bit rude in the grocery store line is a fallible human being with hopes and dreams; it can be almost impossible to remind yourself of that when viewing a contextless clip of someone halfway across the hemisphere. The internet is capable of connecting us to tremendous numbers of people, even as it makes us forget that they are human like us.

An influencer comfortable with filming themselves for thousands of viewers should be comfortable with approaching a stranger and saying, “Would you mind appearing in a video I’m making? I’m going to post it on this platform, and I have this many followers. Take a minute to check me out.” Some already do, and surely there are people who would be happy to receive a free bouquet in exchange for appearing in a TikTokker’s silly stunt. But a no should be taken as a no, just as it should in any other scenario involving consent.

It’s all too easy to skip this step today. People who speak out when they feel harmed by what an influencer did with their image receive only a tiny fraction of the attention that the original posts featuring them got. But when an influencer is repeatedly called out for exploiting strangers—or when their exploitation is obvious, such as when they prey on the homeless—they should be frozen out of the social media ecosystem, not rewarded with attention and profit.

In the future, how will we be able to see such casual cruelty as anything but unethical? Maybe stories of regret are a sign of what’s to come. Brianna Wu, one of the victims of GamerGate, says she has fielded over 100 apologies, often from people who were at their lowest and saw her as an easy outlet for their emotions. But we generally don’t take our frustrations out on people on the street; understanding that people deserve to be protected from unsolicited online fame and malice is the next logical step.

We no longer parade people through villages on a cart or lock them in pillories in the town square to shame them, as was done in centuries past. We did not stop enforcing laws and norms, but we recognized that humiliation and ostracization are harsh, counterproductive tools. Eventually, we will make that realization about the strangers we parade across the internet.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

YAY I can bother you again! \:D/ /jk

Anyways I consider asking my favorite writers stuff as my therapy, so here I go. (Sorry if this is sudden or traumatizing)

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

I feel so bad for saying this but I'm most attracted to any batfam member (adult obvi) when they are at their worst, Bruce and his pathetic angsty ass literally all the time? Let's make a Robin.

Angry Dick with a cheerful facade trying to just be Bruce's equal? Bra is unclipped.

Post pit Jason so angry and mercilless feeling betrayed (any iteration but mostly Arkahm knight) and vengful? Baby I'm yours.

Fanon Tim who is sleep deprived and stalkerish? I'll strip in front of any security camara in Gotham.

Stephanie feeling she needs to prove herself? Please let me top you.

Insecure about his powers Duke? Sudenly I'm a physical meta expert, please show me those abs.

Cassandra thinking she is only capable of damaging? Honey put your hands on me, I assure you it will be anything but unpleasant.

Damian after "accidentally" killing Dick? Hello my name is beloved!

Don't feel bad about it!! I'm just the same and there's nothing wrong with us!!!!!!!!!!

I mean, pathetic wet cats who would just curl in my lap and rant or cry while I indulge them and they become dependent on me and only me??

Battinson is my favorite Batman from the movies bc hello???? I mean I get it why people liked Bale but like???? A guy who's been traumatized for 20 years and got to the point of making an armour to fight against criminals unrelated to the ones that took his parents bc he got so sad that he reflected enough that he came to the conclusion that no one should ever feel like he did, and he would use his entire life to stop crime because people deserved better, even the worst criminals shouldn't die bc they can change or other people might be miserable if they miss him?? And he's ready to die for that!! He doesn't care!! And then he becomes a parent but he sucks at parenting bc he loves them but he never learned how to love?? BABY I CAN TEACH YOU

Jason at under the red hood or as Arkham Knight??? YOU CAN KEEP KILLING PEOPLE IF THAT'LL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER BABE, especially if you keep me around bc we dated before you died/got tortured for months/years, kidnap me, love me, make me yours, I don't think killing your pops is gonna help you feel better, but no nagging will come from me I SWEAR

Fanom Tim being so neglected by his parents that he doesn't think his physical and psychological suffering is important, the fact that he obsessed over his childhood heroes, putting himself in danger, practically deciding that he was going to help them, not bc "I wanna be a hero and I can so I should be" but bc "I don't have much to lose, we all need you, and I want to help you, bc you're all I have!!!" and caring so much that he tries to clone his bff when he dies, and almost dies just to bring his dad and hero back, bc he cares about others more than he cares about himself??? Baby I'm right here!!!!

ANY Damian angst, Damian sad over Dick, over Bruce, over Talia, all while pretending he's just angry, I love him!! Damian that just wants to make them proud!! Damian that wants to be good!! To be on their level!! To be powerful!! To be good enough!! I love love love him!!! I'm with you no matter if you're a hero, a villain, or an antihero!! Damian Wayne, you will always be famous.

Dick swallowing his traumas, his emotions, breaking down at any opportunity, feeling responsible for everyone and destroying himself bc of it!! His relationship with Bruce never being quite the same after he became Nightwing, but they still know, deep inside, that they would come running if the other asked for help, but they never do. And Dick sometimes doesn't even know if Bruce sees him as his son!! And he's sad bc of it, but he can't show it bc how do you tell someone that?!?!?!

Steph thinking she's never gonna be enough, that she needs to prove herself, when this feeling never goes away, bc it's more about you than others? YES YES YES

Cassie!! Don't feel guilty about your past babygirl!!! It wasn't your fault!! You're just a victim!! They even took your voice from you!! Come spoon me and you'll feel better!!!

You're perfect Duke!! You're amazing and cool and handsome and there's nothing wrong with you!! You have the most awsesome powers ever!! Now come here let me look into those brown eyes and lets make out.

Seeing characters that are just so unreal but we can relato to, watch them suffer, feel joy in it!! I'm just like you and you're just like me! Be mine!!

This is about DC, but I'm an invincible, the boys and Marvel fan too. I'm drooling seeing Invincible and Rex Splode at their most toxic or weak moments! I love seeing homelander, soldier boy and the deep being so pathetic that they HAVE TO make it everyone's problem!! On my Winter Soldier brain rot I was constantly going over and over again on the same scenes watching this man be sad and miserable and covered in blood and not having autonomy of his own body and being alone!! Of course I got sad, but we can be sad together!!

Anyway, I love receiving fun and easy asks like that (I'm unreasonably happy that you called me one of your favs), I closed the asks bc I was just feeling I little overwhelmed with anxiety, college, future and the amount of requests I was receiving even if I knew I didn't have to write every fanfic idea people sent me and can just write what inspires me in the moment, be it something people asked, or some inspiration that came for me from another place

[tadpole-apocalypse]

so what’s your verdict on veilguard? Seems like you’re not a fan

Putting this under a read more because I am going to be brutally honest about how I feel and it’s extremely negative.

I hate this game. I haven’t played past the middle of act 2 (whenever the second meeting with the inquisitor is) and I have no desire to pick it back up now. I feel like I’m in mourning for the game I wanted, the one that was canceled and now I’m in my anger phase of my grief.

I feel lied to and tricked by BioWare. I thought, well with everything going on and all the delays and restarts it probably won’t be as good as Inquisition, but at least I can count on them for a fun role playing game and romances. I didn’t get either of those things, and in fact those two aspects were so poorly done it is astounding to me that they felt this game was ok to ship like this.

They told me this was the most romantic BioWare game and considering the heights I experienced with BG3’s romances (Astarion and Lae’zel’s romance and character arcs will live in my heart forever) I had high expectations. Instead I got a tepid non romance where I only learned I was dating someone by the Inquisitor mentioning it off hand. The lucanis romance gave me nothing; no story, no drama, no spite, no romance. There is no slow burn here, this is a NO BURN.

Apparently his romance scenes aren’t even unique to Rook and are also used for Neve which is insane to me. Romancing him makes me feel like a creep trying to bully my subordinate into a relationship.

Even the better romances are horribly under developed. 18 minutes of romance content is PATHETIC. They hyped up these romances!!! They knew they were lacking and marketed them in a way I feel is very slimy and misleading!

My other major sticking point is everything with the Dalish. I hate hate hate everything about how they’re handled and barely involved in a story of their own gods; they should have had a scene of an Arlathvhen where the clans meet up to discuss these new revelations, causing some clans to side with elgar’nan and ghilan’nain. But BioWare was too cowardly to have enemy Dalish and put them up on a high shelf away from their own story and mythology.

There’s so many little things that start to add up and impact my enjoyment. It’s not just those things but a lack of attention to detail of their own world. No new tavern songs, inconsistent accents, lack of meaningful roleplay options, the overly modern way of talking, the themes of religion and faith being completely absent, everyone being very blase about being in the fade physically, no sandal and bodahn…

They should have designed all the Evanuris, or at least Andruil. I have wanted to see her void/blight armor forever. Having them just already be dead of sadness because their arch demons died is very much a let down. 😤

I do think the game has redeeming qualities but these grievances I have far outweigh any of my enjoyment, for now. I’ll revisit it later once my head has cooled and see if I feel different later.

That said I have plenty of mutuals who are loving and enjoying the game and what it gives and I am glad that they are able to get something from it. I always like seeing people be creative and making their own stories and I hope for them it was the game they wanted and I really wish I could share that sentiment.

[igotanidea]

Not trying: Dick Grayson x reader

She was not trying to get his attention.

And anyone who would even come as close as to suggest that, was being scoffed at, almost laughed at, and brushed off using the classic argument of her being too busy to deal with stupid gossip.

But people were not stupid.

And definitely not the GCPD detectives and officers, of which Y/N had the pleasure to be one.

There was no way to miss the days when she was dressing differently, trying to look pretty. Days that happened to be the ones when Dick was having an office duty and wasn’t on field.

Days when she was sad and internally calling herself off when it turned out he took an unexpected day off or something kept him outside the precinct.

Days when she was faking a smile just so he wouldn’t think she was weak or something.

She was not weak.

She was human.

And in this particular case, being human came with falling in love out of the blue with the guy that couldn't care less, because –spoiler alert!- you cannot possibly plan love.

So she was hurting and cursing that part of her that made her keep on trying over and over again.

Spending days at work, full of energy not trying to get his attention, and evenings in front of TV wishing and praying for this hope to just go away and never come back. It was simply heartbreaking to have it regrow every morning just to tear it away at the end of the day.

Like freaking Prometheus with his liver.

But there was one thing similar between them.

They both suffered because of love for humanity – or in her case – one particular human.

***

It was like that for months now, and finally, all those self-doubts and sadness took over her completely.

So at work, she was avoiding people. She closed herself in her office, deciding to put that teary attitude to use to do some cleaning and remove old files.

Clean space, clean head right?

And those tears that finally started falling down her cheeks were definitely going to be helpful with dusting.

She was crying at work.

How pathetic was that?

But it was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

But now that she'd finally let her tears out, she couldn't stop, as though it was a build-up of all the times she'd held the tears in and her body just wasn't having it anymore.

And since life has a tendency to play mean tricks on people, the moment when she looked like a panda with smudged mascara and red nose that would put Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer to shame was the exact moment her office door opened with a loud thud and the Chief walked inside.

“Y/L/N. You good?” he muttered, torn between his boss-like attitude and sudden awkwardness upon seeing one of his best detectives in such a state.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m perfect. Why?”

“Um…” the man looked at her dirty, teary face that was speaking for itself. “No reason at all. At all.”

“Is there anything I can do for you,” she inquired as she grabbed some tissues and wiped the stains away – or so she thought – actually making it worse.

“We got a crime scene. You’re going.”

Little did she know, her boss was having second and third and even fourth thoughts about putting her into investigation in this state, but no one else was available. And – to add to his desperation – the first clues were pointing to the crime of vengeance which were her specialty.

“Great. I’m coming.” She instinctively grabbed her gun from the shelf, but before it ended in her holster the boss capably took it from her, shaking his head.

“No.”

“But-“

“Y/L/N this is an order. You are not to take it.”

“But how am I supposed to-?”

“You can take Grayson.”

“WHAT!?”

“In fact, you both will be assigned to this case. This boy needs to get his head out of his ass. Maybe you’ll be the one to teach him some humility.”

“Huh. Yeah…” she stuttered with the greatest amount of sarcasm in her head. Because the woman who was In love with a man was definitely not going to add to his ego, even if only subconsciously. 

***

“Y/N!” Dick grinned, which would probably be a little less weird if he was not standing in front of a dead body.

“Grayson,” she muttered, sticking hands in her pockets, putting on the most indifferent face expression possible.

“You look different” he looked at her with an insightful look.

“Now that’s quite an observation, detective.” She mocked back. Anyone would notice her make-up less state, bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothes,  and messy hair.

“Were you busy in that little office of yours?”

“The hell, Grayson?!” Y/N instinctively reached for the gun, but obviously did not find it and sighed in frustration. Screw her boss.

“Whoa! No need to get defensive. You just look a little – I don’t know – left high and dry?”

“I swear to God, if you don’t cut that bullshit, you’ll be the next one ending up in a body bag.”

“You wanna come at me, detective?” he smirked.

“Why am I being punished with working with you…” She grabbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing it, sensing the massive migraine coming.

“Cause you’re clearly the only one who can make me get my head out of my ass.”

“Nice. Chief told you that too?”

“Nah, I just bugged your office.”

“You do realize that’s illegal, right?”

“I’ve been authorized.”

“Oh yeah? By who?”

“By my human instincts and care for my friend.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it in a gesture that was supposed to be reassuring. “You’ve been sad lately and –” the brush of his hand on hers made her shiver and – despite everything she did not want to do – take a step back.

“Let’s focus on work shall we?” She moved to talk to the CSI and technicians to get details about the traces and the technicalities.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged “But you are boring!”

She was not boring, merely trying to save herself from any more possible heartbreak – or worse – ridicule.

***

A few weeks later, with the investigation still on, they were both buried to their necks in paperwork, searching for dots and connections and any possible explanations and seemingly invisible tracks their culprit may have left.

And working together involved late nights spent together at the precinct, countless nights of Chinese takeout and getting closer, which was both a curse and a blessing.

Blessing because she learned a lot of little details about him. Like for example that he wasn’t just the son of a billionaire who was playing a cop. Like how he actually wanted to separate himself, make a name for himself and not be only known as “the adoptive alumni of Bruce Wayne.” Like underneath all that goofy act he was actually deeply caring and involved in his work, in helping people and making the city a safer place. Like his eyes were sparkling every time he mentioned his siblings or how his mouth twitched in restrained laughter when she said something that was sarcastically funny.

And a curse, because all those little details only made her fall for him harder. And even if she skipped on that not-trying-to-look-pretty act, because investigation took much more of her time and effort, the longing was still there.

“So, what is that big brain of yours telling you about this?” he asked, throwing her off her thought that at the moment had little to do with the crime.

“About what?” she muttered, trying to figure out what he was talking about for the last couple minutes before she spaced out.

“The newest evidence obviously!” Dick laughed, rummaging through his box of beef Chinese, putting his feet on the desk.

“Hey, watch out!” Her first reaction was rushing to save the documents from the inevitable sweet and sour sauce stains.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s not like I’m going to mess anything up here.” The chopsticks were thrown up with undeniable capability, swirled in the air and landed back in his hand without any damages done to the files. “See?”

“Show off.”

“And yet, this show off made you distracted, didn’t he,” Dick asked as he leaned forward, meeting her eyes.

Too close!

“For the record—” she started and then her eyes grew wide as a sudden realization hit her. A second later, she was throwing the papers away in a haste to get to something.

“Hey! Whoa! Y/N! What-?”

“Shut up, Grayson!”

“Shit, I really have to set you up with my brother Jason. He needs a girl in his life and you two will bound hard over the love of telling me to cut on the talking and-“

“I said shut up, Grayson!” a bunch of papers hit his face. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that the man she was in love with wanted to set her up with his brother. She just figured out the entire case. All hecause of a pair of chopsticks having been thrown into the air.

“What are you looking for?”

“Here!” she exclaimed happily pointing at some pictures from the crime scenes and an alleged instrument of crime.  “See? We were wrong all along! From the very beginning. This is why he never left any traces!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t-“

“Hush. You don’t need to understand a single thing. Just grab your gun and badge and follow me. Come on, pretty boy, we don’t have much time and I know exactly where we’ll get the perpetrator.”

Dick could only stand there in his feet rooted to the ground, watching Y/N figuring the whole case out, the wheels in her brains turning faster than a race car, face flushing from excitement, pupils dilating.

Pretty and smart, even with her hair in a messy bun and plain clothes on. Or maybe – especially because of that, since jeans and t-shirts could never suppress her natural beauty?

“Grayson! Come on! Don’t freeze on me!”

“Coming,” he replied as her voice slowly reached his ears. He realized there was no way he was going to let her go anywhere alone. Even if he couldn’t understand a single thing from her rambling and running around, the least he could do was to keep her safe.

***

“Are you absolutely sure about it?”

“Are you chickening out?”

“Your hands are shaking, Y/N.”

“That’s why you are the one with a gun.”

“And killer fighting skills.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“That tone of sarcasm is completely unnecessary, you know. And after we are done please do remind me to introduce you to Jason—”

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Don’t you know the answer to that by now?”

Y/N sighed deeply in frustration, fighting the urge to curse at him with the strongest cursing words known to humans. And maybe even inventing a few by herself.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you sure that-?”

“Hush!” she put a palm to his mouth, noticing some movement in front of the house they were currently observing from the camouflaged car. “See that? Told you I was fucking right!”

“There’s no need to brag, you know.” He muttered, his voice muffled due to her hand still on his face.

“Admit it.”

“Admit what?” He looked at her with an incredulous look.

“That I was right.”

“Well for the record, I was the one who made you come into a conclusion-“

“Un-fucking-believable.”

She swiftly left the car, abandoning her need to hear the praise from him to the benefit of catching the culprit that has been invading her waking and sleeping hours alike. She was not going to beg for attention, this time for real, sneaking to the house the criminal ring was clearly having some sort of meeting.

And then, there was the one. Looking like a regular person, even if he was exceptionally handsome, but rotten to the core.

“See? That’s the one who-. Dick?” Y/N turned around, but not spotting her partner anywhere. Fuck! Really?! He was leaving her now?! Of all the times and places?! Now?! Was he really so jealous and self-conceited to not help her finish their joint case?

And here she was, thinking she saw something special in him. Something hidden under the surface.

Stupid heart. After all this time they spent together, seemingly building something, she was right back to the beginning, when she was not trying.

And what was she supposed to do now?

Coming inside alone? Reckless.

Calling for freaking SWAT teams? Before they would get here, the meeting of criminals would be over.

Wait till it was over and chase the leader alone?

Listen to their plan and use it later on?

She was a detective with skills, but not a spy!

And she made that one rookie mistake when leaning too much upwards she was seen.

“Hey! There’s someone outside the window!”

“Oh great…” she muttered and only a quick duck saved her head from being hurt from all the glass shattering due to the bullet fired in her direction.

“Get her! She could be a cop!”

The four men broke from the table, grabber whatever weapons they possibly could and rushed right after her.

“Fuck!” She took off running because despite her agility, speed, and quick thinking she physically was no match to the tank-like men. “Fuck you, boss for taking away my gun permissions!” She hissed to herself, running away. “Fuck you Grayson for leaving me alone! I can’t believe I fell for you!”

“You fell for me?” a familiar teasing voice echoed somewhere from behind, but nowhere to be seen.

And it made her stop.

“Dick?” She turned around to search for him.

And it was another mistake.

An iron grip on her arm and sudden harsh yank back serving as a perfect example of her stupidity.

“I got our little bird.” One of the men laughed maliciously.

“Well, I am not exactly little,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Her only chance was to tread carefully and hope that stupid fucking Grayson will figure out a way out of this mess. Stupid fucking hope that got her in said mess in the first place.

“Huh?” the goon frowned.

“I said-“

“Let the lady go.” Y/N’s words were cut off abruptly by something that seemed like Dick’s voice, but a little more… distorted?

The hell was going on here?

“I really do advise you to let the lady go.” The same voice said again.

“Oh yeah? And who’s asking me to do so? Show your face unless you are all talk.”

“Seeing me only comes once for certain people. And believe me when I say that most of those encounters end up bad when you cross paths with me.”

A man’s silhouette emerged from a few meters ahead, covered by the darkness of the night. At least at first. But as he moved closer, both Y/N and the goon froze, though either of them for a different reason.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Nightwing,” the goon hissed, tightening the grip on Y/N.

“Hello to you both. Wonderful night we are having, aren’t we?”

“I could argue with that-“ Y/N rolled her eyes. She was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow. That was, if the most talkative of the city's vigilantes wouldn’t actually cause her to end up dead. 

“Congratulations Nightwing, you got me. But there are much more of us in-“

“In that little hiding spot that’s not even properly hidden? Not sorry to break it to you, but Robin and Red Hood are currently dealing with them.”

“Huh?”

“Not very smart, are you?”

“Hey!”

As the goon was getting distracted, Nightwing (?) sent Y/N a very familiar, discreet look and she nodded almost immediately, and suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle formed one clear picture.

“He’s right, you know. You are not very smart,” she picked up the tone immediately.

“Hey!”

“She is a cop,” Nightwing pointed out.

“She is?”

“Yeah, I am. And since I saw your face, I can absolutely guarantee you, I won’t stop until you are behind bars. Unless-“

“Unless obviously you surrender willingly. Maybe then she can strike a bargain for you?”

“That might actually be a possibility,” Y/N teased. “But I’m not sure. Do you think our fella here deserves to be treated lightly, Nightwing?”

“I’m not sure. Are you hurt, Y/N?”

“Can’t lie that my arm is getting a little sore here. If he keeps holding me like this we might also charge him with violation of physical integrity. That’s 3 to 5 years, I believe?”

“And in this case we’re dealing with assault on a public official. Quite an incriminating circumstance.”

“So what do you think, maximum penalty?”

“And the conspiring charges too.”

“And the murder involvement.”

“I say 15 if not more.”

“I’d say more.”

“You wanna bet?” Nightwing smirked.

“I had nothing to do with the murder!” The goon got a little overwhelmed by the quick-paced exchange of words, of which he couldn’t comprehend half of them, loosening the grip on Y/N. And she was quick to use it against him, finding her leverage in using four sensitive spots to knock the man down.

Half an hour later all four men involved were handcuffed and escorted to the police station. 

And after Y/N made her official oral deposition with a promise to submit a written report first thing in the morning, she was finally left alone for a moment of peace.

“Did you really use that Miss Agent trick?”

“It worked didn’t it?” she crossed arms on her chest, looking at Nightwing in a mocking way, without any sympathy at all.

“You know, most of the ladies I know would be at least a little grateful for me saving them.”

“Mhm. That would actually involve the saving part.”

“Let’s check. You are breathing. You are intact. Clearly neither your tongue nor your brain got damaged. Looks quite saved to me.”

“You left me!”  

“For five minutes! Not my fault you are so terrible at self-defense!”

“Not my fault you are terrible at being open with such secrets!”

“It was to protect you!”

“Dick…” she sighed heavily, daring to whisper his name.

“Y/N…” he responded, taking a few steps forward, taking her hand in the same gesture he did all those weeks ago when they started working this case together.

“I thought we were partners? At work” she added quickly

“You fell for me,” he asks, the left corner of his mouth traveling up.

“Oh, now you have a good memory?”

“Did you?”

“NO!”

“Really? No? That's your final answer. Or maybe it’s not,” he pulled her closer and wrapped arms around her waist, preventing her from running away again.

“Yes. I mean, no! I mean- damn it…”

“So, if I were to commit the act of violating the physical integrity of a public official...” he leaned forwards. “what would you say Y/N?”

“What happened to me meeting your brother?”

“I said you have to meet him. Never said why.”

“Oh? And why?” she smirked looking from above his arm to check if they were alone.

“To make him jealous, obviously.”

She chuckled softly, checking the surroundings once more, before slowly reaching to remove his mask and meeting those pretty blue eyes and familiar face.

“Hello there.”

“Hello to you too.”

Their lips were now inches away from each other.

“Which brother are we talking about? Red Hood? Heard he’s hot…”

“Do you ever shut up?” Dick grinned before leaning forward and finally capturing those lips he’s been dreaming about for weeks now.

And kissing her was effortless.

Like he was not trying at all.

[weepingtalecowboy]

“I will go fix my issues”,he lied truthfully

Fanfic prompt : Or legend using the harp of ages to go help his past self after his uncle just died

By pretending he is his mom or something… but a very self hating and salty one who traumatizes his past self more than anything else ever did.

"You ever notice how your ‘uncle’ doesn’t look a thing like you? Wonder why he’s been so… generous? That’s because he bought you. Yes, you, little one, came into his life for the very humble price of a single green rupee and a bag of seeds . Feel special? You should. Those were probably stale seeds at that.”

Cue the young boy’s confused, horrified expression.

“Oh, don't worry, he’s been a decent guardian. Way better than if I’d kept you. I wouldn’t have paid for you at all. Would’ve sold you for even less. But hey, be grateful! Fate did you a kindness.”

Legend is living the dream that everyone had shared at some point to terrorize his past self.

As they trek through the wilds,Legend gives his younger self the kind of guidance you'd expect from someone who didn’t take parenting classes but aced "being a jerk" 101 , so basically just Legend as a person. “Alright, you little whiner, stop crying. People are going to think you’re weak. I mean, you already are, but it’d be nice to pretend. You have to learn to just… deal with it.”

Baby self, who’s just learned to talk: “I hate you.”

Legend, without missing a beat, grins darkly: “Yeah, I figured. That’s what makes you so special. You’re already a natural.”

Legend gives many advice ,that he thought he was teaching important lessons with.

Because he is a good mother.

He ruined his child self's life before the little guy even got beaten up by a guard.

Seeing his baby self—this pathetic, sad, scared little creature—is like looking at a version of himself that he desperately wants to erase from his memory. The fact that the baby version is so utterly harmless, so completely incapable of being a threat, makes Legend reach levels of contempt for the world never encountered before What world worth saving would ever consider this—this tiny, weak, helpless thing—a target for execution. His own actions, his whole history, his entire existence as a hero... they pale in comparison to how much he despises the weakness of his own past.

When he eventually encountered one he had to watch the gruesome scene of Legend incinerating one , it was fucking personal , the sheer amount of blood was making him feel… not good to say the least.

He did not want the other to follow him but he was very much baby and pretty sure that he would rather stand behind the one who was brutally beating up people then in front of him.

Legend really tries to be nice … but he is Legend and saltier than the namesake salt itself.

“Oh, you’re hungry? Yeah, well, get used to it. You’ll figure out how to go without food soon enough. It builds character. Or you could cry about it like you always do. See how far that gets you.” He offers a piece of dry bread, throwing it on the ground in front of him, just out of reach.

He is too salty for child rearing, no wonder his baby self is continuously crying behind him , and very much wincing internally when Link flinches from him.

The dark world section was even worse.

[vaguely-concerned]

so for obvious reasons, rye is not generally all that popular with most of the senior watchers. however. I think there is a certain type of younger watcher to whom he is The ultimate hot badboy icon and fantasy. (we're talking about a group of extreme indoor kid goth nerds who've barely been outside. it doesn't take a lot ot achieve bad boy status in this context and the only thing in this world that lasts forever is a bad reputation in a small insular group like the watchers.) it's SO funny because rye thinks of himself as such a disappointing fuckup of a son of the grand necropolis. and meanwhile there are novices kicking their feet and giggling as they're like

'Ingellvar is so cool. no one knows where he's from he was found down here as a baby. mysterious orphan appeal. he could be a secret dalish prince or something for all we know. (*annoyed extra nerd watcher novice voice*: umm actually the dalish don't have princes, merrivar?? read a real book sometime maybe???) he's a rebel. he doesn't care what the senior watchers think no time for politics he just gets the job done. (*small sad rye voice* I care a lot what the senior watchers think actually. a pathetic amount, in fact. it just rarely seems like it helps anything at all) I heard he graduated almost top of his class even though he spent all his time as a student partying up in the city and having a torrid affair with the son of a noble family. sometimes in his spare time he wears a cool punk leather jacket but like the fantasy version of that. he has tattoos apparently but no one's seen them for years. yuh-uh it's true too, I know someone who knows someone he dated once. they say he saw a knife fight once. like, in a bar brawl, with living people. all that, and he's even sneakily emotionally unavailable. *starry-eyed sigh* what a dreamboat'.

needless to say this only grows worse with the events of the game, after he takes out the formless one and rumours start to spread that he maybe killed a god or something too???? and this being nevarra, more importantly he's out there killing dragons with his sworn companions?? like a fucking fairytale prince but with that devil-may-care rebellious streak???? he's the safely unavailable first crush at a distance of many a young watcher. now imagine the reaction when he shows up home for the first time in a year after the war of the banners accompanied by The one true bad boy fantasy to rule them all: literally the sad brooding crown prince of the crows of antiva in leather pants who has WINGS and a dark tortured side of his nature that he has to constantly battle against for the sake of those he loves.

(the perception vs. reality situation for both of these characterizations is. so unspeakably hilarious needless to say. consider how much of the above lucanis characterization is accurate to the person he actually is and then you've basically found the level of distortion lens being applied to rye as well. is most of it technically true? sure. 'technically' is having to do a whole world of heavy lifting there tho fhdfska)

what I'm really saying here is that there is a subsection of this group that's been ferociously writing rye/lucanis rpf from the moment they were seen trotting down into the necropolis depths together (other pairings within the lighthouse gang as a whole, caught in tantalizing glimpses as they visit the necropolis, of course having their own devotees), and when this fandom subgroup eventually discover they were right it's with all the insane glee of a sixteen year old fanfic writer on wattpad (is that still where the kids are these days. idk i'm getting old folks) finding out that their dark mafia prince AU is basically true. varric might be gone but the legacy of friendfiction lives on after him. the king of thedas rpf being the shoulders of titans that young watchers are standing on to write fevered WILDLY inaccurate depictions of the private life of two of the most low-key domestic quietly devoted and undramatic people on the continent, one of them being varric's own poor little meow meow slash mentee, is something that can actually be so personal. rye does not end up terribly famous in the end considering the shit he manages to get done in this game, and he thanks his lucky stars for it. but to a tight-knit community of mourn watch fic writers he is blorbo from my apocalypse. it's all I could have wished for him.

(funniest possible outcome of all this: myrna gets so fucking tired of trying to understand what the novices are being so tittery about that she asks rye 'watcher ingellvar with the realization that this is a long shot and the admission that vorgoth and I have exhausted all other avenues of investigation: do you possess secret insight about what an 'x reader' is. and also 'ship war'. your name seems to come up in this context a surprising amount'. 9000000 points of incoming psychic damage about to hit the fan.)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Nejiron

Debut: The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Yesterday I learned that this thing exists. And I realized I had never seen it in my life! I have not played Majora's Mask, but I still feel like it's weird that there is a weird guy in an old entry of one of the biggest game franchises, and I don't think I have EVER seen it. But now I get to see it! And so do you! Yahoo! Behold this lump!

Nejiron looks pretty pathetic (affectionate). It default pose is sitting while curled into a ball, and its body is already a ball! It would be funny to see it waltz around with its legs, but I don't think it wants to, because it rolls around everywhere. Also, please observe its eyes. They are such eyes. I feel like these are the sort of eyes that would make a noticeable, wet sound when they blink. This thing has not slept in days.

Nejiron doesn't have to be so sad, though, because its game got a remake! This forced game developers to once again occupy their minds with Nejiron, updating its model and design slightly, making it a bit more detailed. Someone had to draw Nejiron some more detailed eye bags. Isn't that great? Someone also decided that it has human-like fingers and toes. Maybe in a Majora's Mask HD, it would get fingernails! It would have to take some time every few days to clip them. Now that would be relatable! Representation!

If you were dissapointed that Nejiron would be one of those fictional monsters that you can only experience with one sense, do not worry! We are told that it smells like gunpowder. I have never smelled gunpowder, but if you know what it smells like, then yeah! You know what this beast smells like, and your immersion deepens. When one is hit, it will, of course, explode! It will then be replaced by another one that emerges from the ground. I guess they are disposable soldiers... but what is their purpose?

We actually know, miraculously! Nejirons hunt Gorons, the big, strong rocky people who eat rocks themselves, and also roll around in ball form. Nejiron evolved specifically to mimic and deceive them! In fact, "neji" means "twisted" or "warped", in reference to this! I can't imagine they can kill their prey by just ramming into them, so maybe that is where the exploding comes in, and then other workers bring the food to nourish a reproductive "queen" underground? I also can't imagine these basic Nejirons eating. No mouth, you see. So maybe there is an even more monstrous queen lurking beneath, eating Goron meat and popping out explosive babies... hooray! I hope she has a funny abdomen!