#well I mean- worm on a string
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WUWHAHAHAHA
#my art#[Kosm]#art#artwork#digital art#artists on tumblr#dragon#dragon art#well I mean- worm on a string#creature#creature art#monster#monster art#tw bright colors#tw eye strain
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// I know i'm a bit scarce rn bc of school, but I probably won't be around much starting tomorrow until i'm able to finish arle's story quest. I may be able to start it on wed, but idk how long it will take to finish it - maybe as long as until friday.
I will probably also be able to move to the new blog in early may, since I'll only have three tests for finals and then it's just my summer projects I have.
so!!! all that being said, this will be an affiliates call that will go into effect with the move: like this post if you'd be interested in being affiiliates and we've written together/developed our muses quite a bit. you also have to be okay with me bothering you in dms about them, sending you links to fanarts/memes, and it may even come with spontaneous edits/aesthetics if inspiration strikes.
when I move, I really want to focus on development, with my muse and between muses, on threads both fun and diving into our muses. this is also open to his hsr verse.
#✶ — › worm off the string / ooc.#digging back through my dms to figure out where i've missed#the move will mean i'm gonna be more selective with who I follow as well#so I don't get overwhelmed again asdlkfjgh#but I think focusing on the development will help bc that's what sparks joy#tumblr logged me out in the middle of making this post wtf
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Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)
art kid luke hughes
#joy i feel like i should’ve known it would be you wrecking my shit by saying this ->#no one tell me what it’s about i want to think about jack as a fixed point forever#like. please. please. why would you. & also why are these like miyazaki/indie coming of age documentary closed captions u know what i mean#anyway in a moment of brief insanity i thought about the devil!nico snapping his fingers to make jack first overall wherever he wanted#and the concept of things that would always have happened it’s just a matter of how you get there#no matter where your eye starts it always ends there no matter where your threads weave in the web of fate all the knots end up tied. fixed#(nolan going to vegas) it’s just the path you took to get there was a little different is all.#hi. it's me. five+ hours later. remember the brief aforementioned moment of insanity#yeah so we lost it in a completely different directions sorry?#if i had a nickel for every time i entered a hughes brothers induced narrative webweaving fugue state i'd have two nickels#which isn't a lot but relative to the amount i think about them kinda is and also it's weird it happened twice#also i'm not apologizing for hearing “art kid” with fixed point (one perspective? my googling of art terminology did not yield results.#luke baby girl i think you've got the wrong term.) and immediately jumping to science (math and ecosystem management) because. that's art#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#vancouver canucks#new jersey devils#my cat would very much like for me to go to bed and snuggle however. i was possessed. (AND i just learned how to do small text)#so now all of you get to have worms for brain at 12:30AM too ok ily good night!!!!!#i lied actually i need to tell you guys things because number one EYE have no idea where this came from number two the things i do know#i have no idea if the red string meme it's all coming together points make any sense to anyone but me. SO FIRST#function defined by itself (43 superscript added by me) it's luke defining fixed point. he's cited.#perspective used to stage narratives!!! the history of perspective in art is honestly so interesting and i think actually this started#because i was trying to find a definition for fixed point in art and couldn't get one but found the article talking about#how historically perspective is used for geometric and architecture in paintings to add reality i.e. vermeer's squares#because our brains are SO hardwired to believe perspective “the illusion of geometric regularity and spatial recession... is nearly impossi#liv in the replies#said more but tumblr ate it bc it was too many tags & now we're on hour six i am not rewriting just know it was good. past/present/future l#it was not well articulated & i wanted to do perspective lines & also it could be better collaged but if it looks bad.. that's a u problem.
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hii, hope you're doing well. May I ask for alastor x reader where reader is way more powerful than alastor? and weird thing for al is that r didn't sell their soul to anybody or make a deal, they just slayed and managed to become very strong overlord just by themselfs. Could be fem or gn reader, please
Thank you, have a nice day/night <33
A/N: I went with a gn reader, wasn't too sure how to incorporate a specific gender into this one, but i hope you enjoy!
Character: Alastor
Type: Headcanons (Alastor x stronger reader, General)
Now, this was certainly interesting! It seemed to Alastor that history really did have a way of repeating itself! Just like himself, a new soul had arrived in hell and stirred up quite the commotion! And during his seven-year absence no less! You were one powerful demon, quickly rising in the ranks of the overlords and eventually even making your way to Pentagram City. Only where Alastor had stagnated in power by himself, you kept rising. You were stronger? Than him? Now he really was interested.
But what intrigued the radio demon the most was the source of your power. Where did it come from? He had heard the rumors that you had no souls, but that just didn't make any sense to him. Not in the slightest.
Souls equal power, plain and simple, whether it means obtaining the souls of others or selling your own. but you had done neither. quite the anomaly you were. He just knew that he had to meet you!
The moment that he even stepped into the same room as you, the radio demon was filled with a sense of dread. He could feel the power radiating off of you. Alarm bells rang in his mind, he knew you were a danger. But this also meant that he knew exactly who you were when he saw you. The overlord with no souls, power with no strings attached. You certainly did not disappoint, that was for sure.
Now, Alastor was not a demon to form alliances, but one with you would he certainly wouldn't mind making an exception for. Whatever he could do to get close to you. He'd sniff out any possible opening and poof, suddenly the radio demon was ingrained in your afterlife.
He would be looking for any opportunity to worm his way in, trying to find out why exactly you were so strong. Trying to get you to make a deal. It didn't matter to him if he had to start small, as long as he could get in it was a start.
He knew one thing for sure. You were exactly what he had been looking for. He had to add you to his collection. And he would do anything to have you.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin headcanons#hazbin imagine#alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor imagine#alastor
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katsuki is definitely a "get my wife's name out'cha fuckin' mouth!!!!" kinda guy LMAOOO
You're mad, really mad. No doubt that your husband would be banned, not just from the Hero Gala, but as well as future important events for what happened.
The car ride back to the hotel was completely silent, your head tilted towards the window to gaze out into the dark city.
Finally, when you're both undressed and ready for bed, you talk.
"Why'd you do that?" You start, arms crossed whilst you lean on the soft headboard of the bed.
Katsuki averts eye contact, subtly appearing like a child being scolded for misbehaving (which angers you even more). There's a lengthy period of silence, before his face reverts back to his usual scowl.
"He was makin' fun o'you." He says, and you sigh.
"I know, Kats." You start, shuffling deeper into the covers. "There's people that are going to make fun of me no matter what, you know that. Didn't mean you had to go make a scene."
He lets your words sink into his skin for a moment, peering down at the white duvet.
"Can't fuckin' stand when people talk about you like that." He remarks, but you can sense the true passion in his voice. Even when he knows he shouldn't, Katuski inches his hand towards yours. Still, the pout on your face is evident.
"You could've handled it better, Kats."
There's a twinge of anger that sparks in his gut, one that reminds him of his teenage days. It tumbles immediately to his throat, born from his tendency to be angry. You can see his eyebrow crinkle, his mouth curling further into a frown. What was he not enough of?
Right as your husband goes to open his mouth, to release a string of curses, he stops. It closes, and you watch as he takes a dramatic sigh. His hand tenses around yours.
"M'sorry. Couldn't control myself around that shithead. Shouldn'tve slapped him, 'specially at a big gala." He mumbles. Something in your heart sparkles when you sense the sincerity in his tone.
You pat his knuckles, gently tracing the veins that run along them. "I really don't want to scold you like your mom, Kats. I'm just worried for your job... What if you get blacklisted from other events."
You're right, and he knows. "P.R. can help me fix it. Find a way to minimize damage or whatever."
Satisfied, you allow yourself to sink down into the soft covers of the bed, shuffling and worming around until you're comfortable. Katsuki expectantly staring at you for an answer.
"Spit it out."
He slides deeper into the covers next to you, slithering a thick arm over your midsection. You're warm, almost warm enough for him to forget about the events of earlier.
"You're the one striving for #1, not me." You mutter.
He takes it as permission to snuggle closer, slotting his chin up top your head.
"Damn right."
#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha#mha#fluff#reader insert#x reader#romance#seratopia writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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Time forgets most (DPxDC)
I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post
°•°•°•°
The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.
Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.
Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.
The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.
Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.
When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.
Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.
As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.
Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.
On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.
Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.
The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.
That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.
The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.
He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.
Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.
Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.
Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.
Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.
Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.
The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.
A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.
The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.
Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.
Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.
It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.
But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.
Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.
He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.
It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.
It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.
Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.
The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.
Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.
A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.
The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.
Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.
Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.
Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.
As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.
Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.
It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.
Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.
It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.
The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.
It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.
After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.
Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.
Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.
Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.
They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.
The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.
At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.
This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.
When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.
A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.
That was until Hal saw him.
Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.
Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.
A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.
Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.
The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.
Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.
Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.
Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.
The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.
Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.
Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...
Or...
Or...
He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.
That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.
Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.
Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.
Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.
#danny phantom#fandom things#fandom#danny fenton#phandom#dc x dp#dp x dc au#dp x dc crossover#dc comics#dc hal jordan#hal jordan#dc green lantern#green lantern#long post#I love all the posts that evolves Danny into something more than just a halfa#I've been having this idea of Siren!Danny#We're gonna ignore the fact that I got the idea for this from a Ghostsoap fic#I also like to blame the Circe saga from Epic the musical#Please I'm so whipped by that musical#I can't get over Circe and Odysseus' songs#Anyways Hal was ready to die for Danny at just one look#after he manages to get closer#to see Danny take care of and nuture the aliens#it's over for Hal#“I've only know this weirdly ethereal man for five minutes. but if anything happens to him I'm killing everyone in the room and then myself”#if it's not clear enough this is very much adult Danny who technically lived through millenniums but still just looks to be in his twenties#I love this idea sm even if I don't do much for it#I mean come on#I would kill to have art of Hal meeting Danny as my wallpaper#Time forgets most AU
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Down Bad
pairing: carlos sainz x reader
summary: a heartbreak like no other
a/n: it’s super short, sorry
masterlist ttpd masterlist
________
You should've known better. Really. You aren't the kind of girl that a hot, 29-year-old, Spanish Formula One driver would like. Of course, you are beautiful, but apparently not enough for him. His attention was fleeting, leaving you just another one of his conquests in a long string of girls like you.
You met Carlos while interning in Madrid during the Winter. At the time you didn't realize he was love-bombing you, only to drop you cold once your internship ended a month later and you went home, practically shipped away by him. For a moment you knew, or thought you knew, extraordinary love, but it wasn't real. Was anything real anymore?
“Sweetheart, you need to stop moping,” your mom says from the doorway of your bedroom. “You know I love you, but if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you are a moody teenager,” you know your mom means well, but the last bit struck hard.
“Fine, I’m going for a run,” you groan, rolling out of bed. She leaves your room, seemingly appeased. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed, lace up your trainers, and play your angsty playlist through your headphones.
You take the path you know by heart, the one you take when you need to be away from people. When you are sufficiently alone, you let it all out.
Crying and running may not be the wisest idea, but it’s cathartic to you. You stop when you get to the meadow and lay down, staring at the cloudy sky. As the music plays, you yell the lines that hit too close to home. I might just die, it would make no difference. Fuck you if I can’t have us.
Fuck. You need to get over him. Everything just feels so hollow now, like you were stripped of everything you are and ever were. You just want to talk to your friends about it, but you know them. They will call you nuts, saying that it never really happened, that Carlos Sainz would never date you.
So instead, you lay in this field, thinking about when you were heaven struck. You might just not get up, stay down while you are down bad for someone who doesn’t even care about your existence anymore.
Maybe you were abducted by an alien to another, then returned back to this spot. That could explain it. Explain why you are feeling the angst of a scorned teenage girl, when you have more emotional maturity than that. You are 22 after all.
It’s how you imagine it feels like to lose the touch of a twin flame. I guess being love bombed then abandoned would do that to you.
The more you think about it, the more the alien analogy seems to fit. It’s like he beamed down from a ship, did a hostile takeover on your heart, the alien encounters closer and closed as each day passed. And you let them happen, willingly.
It started with a hello, then coffee, then a stroll, then a lunch, then a drive, then a dinner, then a night spent together, two, three, four, it spiraled. He did everything he could to worm his way into your heart, only for him to say it’s over.
Maybe you will take the ship, go to some planet and find an alien who can understand all of it. How dare he do everything he could to make you fall in love, only to leave you stranded. How is that romantic? You were in love, and fuck him if you can’t have him because of his actions.
You stare at the sky, music pumping through your headphones, willing the sky to part and reveal the alien spaceship that will beam you up to it in a cloud of dust and take you away.
Minutes pass until you realize your efforts are worthless, you mentally wave goodbye to the ship that carries him (and his pet names and his perfect dates) with it. Shedding a few tears on your run home, you start rebuilding yourself with each step. The hurt and pain slowly being chipped away.
No man with EVER make you feel this down bad again.
#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#carlos sainz imagines#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz#the tourtured poets department
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In a dominant mood so here's how I think bsd men would act as subs
Atsushi
Would be a very obedient sub
Trusts you in every way imaginable
You know how parents tell you "well if your friend told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"??
Yea that's him
If you told him to do something stupid or dangerous whether in the bedroom or not he would immediately trust that you have a plan behind it (even if you actually don't, he doesn't know that)
Other than that, he's very anxious when it comes to PDA, at least at first
But once he gets used to it, and by that I mean used to the feeling of being loved, then he will slowly start warming up to and even asking for it
When it comes to sex, he can be even more bashful and awkward about it
He mostly whimpers and whines and it's not super loud, but if it does get to that point he's very self aware and scared of others hearing him, so he covers his mouth right away
I think he'd be most compatible with a more gentle top
He can't handle very heavy scenes and I can't imagine him having a very active libido
He has sex to express love and passion, not just for a quick fling that doesn't mean anything
Outside of the bedroom, he's very quiet about what goes on in there
Dazai likes to tease him about it and you love how his pale complexion turns into a pretty shade of red
Dazai
Oh this man is OBNOXIOUS
He's the type of sub that makes you wanna fuck him so hard he actually shuts the fuck up for a second
One of the brattiest of the bunch, for some reason has to turn anything and everything into a game of cat and mouse
Also one of the horniest, believe me you'll be drained DRY after like a week or so
This man's libido is UNMATCHED
He may be taller than you, smarter than you, and possibly stronger than you when it comes to his ability,
But in every other way you are in charge And some part of him always wants to challenge that
Loves to be paraded around like a showdog (but prefers the term "trophy wife")
He's a little princess and always gets what he wants
I think he'd fit best with a dom who could handle his.....special traits
He needs someone who won't get tired of him so quickly and leave, just like everyone else in his life did
But he also needs someone to put him in his place from time to time
Dealing with dazai isn't for the faint of heart, anyone who's done it before knows that
So maybe if you're strong enough, smart enough, and a little bit delusional and crazy, you could have this cute little former mafioso wrapped around your finger like a worm on a string <3
Fyodor
Tbh this one's the whole reason why I made this post in the first place😆
This one's also a little....different...from the others
And by that I mean he's worse
His brattiness doesn't come in the form of disobeying orders or having a fit in front of your friends
No, this one will purposefully pick you apart psychologically
Trying to get this man to behave will require a labyrinth of words, a battle of the minds
He needs someone who can challenge him, because if they don't, he wouldn't bother to be submissive towards them at all, they don't deserve it.
He's one half sickly and one half pride, so taking care of him isn't gonna be easy
Of course you'd have to know going in that Fyodor's self care is abysmal and as his dom you'd have to take responsibility for his health
Taking care of his pills, his diet, making sure he eats and sleeps on time, gets enough rest, drinks enough water, exercises, that's all on you from now on
But you do it cause you love him
Sometimes he'll be bratty and arrogant enough to take you for granted, and would snap at you and tell you he doesn't need someone to baby him when you just were trying to help
But after enough time, he'll realize he was wrong, and as his health depletes, he'll slowly start to inch towards you, asking for your help
You would make sure it gets to the point where he'd have to beg. Make him realize what it's truly like to not have you "distracting" him with your care and concern
And eventually, if he's put up a pathetic enough display for you, you'll hold him in your arms, warm chest comforting him as he leans his head and torso on it
You'll watch how he shivers each time he takes a breath, his eyes are glassy and staring at nothing, his hair is drowning in grease, and it's obvious he hadn't showered in days, but you don't mind
All of this means he's vulnerable, which means he's weak, which means he's malleable.
Malleable enough for you to mold into whatever you please.
Because the only person who could dominate the demon Fyodor is someone who could become the demon Fyodor.
Whether he knew it or not, you were just as sinister as he was, possibly even more.
And every breath he took was another foolish step into your web, a plan you had conducted just for him
So he can be as proud and smug as he wants, but at the end of the day,
You are in control.
Chuuya
It's kind of hard for me to decipher what kind of sub he'd be to be honest
I want to say he'd be a brat but that term doesn't seem to describe him exactly
Sure, he's got a lot of pride, so getting him to submit to you or even to simply let you take the wheel will be difficult.
He's too stuck in his old habits, too used to having to take care of everything, so being taken care of for a change will be a new feeling to him.
He's also scared to love you, scared to let himself bring another person into his heart, afraid of instead accidentally luring you to your death as he had done with so many others.
No, he's not ready to lose another person. Not again.
He's grown to see his love for others as a trap, a ploy, a misfortune. It was like a prophecy for someone's death.
But you, you were different from the rest.
You were strong. Strong enough to protect yourself, strong enough to stand your ground. In fact, you could probably even protect the gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara himself.
It took a long time for him to be ready. Ready to open himself up for you. But you let him take his time. You let him think things through. And despite everything, you were there.
You both sprouted a relationship neither of you thought you could do before
And the sex wasn't just sex to you two, no, it could be a distraction, a vacation, an escape, a break, an apology, you name it.
Sex would be a big part of you guys' relationship
I like to think that Chuuya is a lot hornier than he says he is, and also a lot more submissive
Learning that he was a sub was surprising for you, especially because of, well, everything about him
But that was cool for you, as you were vers, and you had to admit you loved the way he screamed and cried under you.
The look in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, even the small wounds he had gotten from biting his lips so hard to keep in a moan was adorable
Fucking in his penthouse was great because he had red lighting in almost every room, giving it a sexy, moody vibe.
It also reminded him of his place. He may be rich, he may be a mafia executive, and he may have a couple dozen people under his command, but no matter where or what he is, he will always be a pathetic little whore for you.
You fuck him in his room to remind him his riches mean nothing. He means nothing. All he is is a slut, and he must be reminded of that.
I think he'd be best compatible with a quieter personality to counter his loud one, but I think that loud, brash personality is most present around Dazai. Though he can have a little bit of a temper from time to time, even around you
He needs someone who doesn't care about status or ranks, Port mafia executive or not, you'll fuck him like there's no tomorrow and once you're done he'll be clinging to you like a lost little dog.
Ranpo
Brat. Brat Brat Brat. NOTHING about this boy is topping.
I mean, I do see him as a switch, but in this case, he's the brattiest brat to ever brat.
Will require you give him sweets and cold drinks whenever he asks, will make you drive him places, teach him things and even fuck him when he's too lazy to do the fucking.
He'll be obnoxious all day and then look at you like he's done nothing wrong his whole life. Spoiled little shit.
He's exactly the type of sub you would fuck into submission until you hear a sorry or any sort of appropriate apology.
He likes to be fucked lying down, sometimes sitting and leaning against something, but sometimes you'll force him to sit on you and ride you up and down even though you know he hates it. You'll never hear the end of it from him, though.
He likes to be fucked while eating, too. You'll fuck him from behind with a hand out and spoonfeeding him cake, and the rapid shaking of your bodies and the table he's up against will leave traces of cake all over his chin and cheeks. He doesn't know if he wants cake or if he wants you to eat his cake. Either way, he wants and needs you bad.
I think he'd be best fit with a top who would usually just give in to all his demands and would be patient with his bratty personality, but knows when it's been taken too far. You'd be calm and gentle with him, but come nighttime, you're a beast in bed, making sure he makes up for everything he did in the office that day.
He's not the type to apologize I don't think, he'd definitely beg if it's gotten too much for him but an apology? That's asking too much. Just take the moans and cries and leave.
However, right afterwards he'd go back to his usual bratty self no matter how bad the punishment was. In couldn't have been that harsh anyway, as you could never say no to Ranpo's cute face.
Akutagawa
When I say this man is a Virgin I mean he's a VIRGIN VIRGIN.
As in as virgin as the virgin mother mary
He hadn't even had time for sex before you came along.
You taught him everything, even things about his own body that he didn't even know. Like how he doesn't like the feeling of frotting because he doesn't like how another man's dick is on his own. Or how he likes when you pump his cock slowly, especially since he's so new to the game that he couldn't handle more even if he tried. Poor boy😔
He finds it odd, the feeling of being pampered. Being provided with food everyday, a warm place to live, constant affection, he didn't know what to do with it. It was as if he was an alien studying earth and experiencing the most mundane things for the first time.
And the weirdest thing about it was, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being taken care of, being provided for and pampered, and it was odd. He wasn't sure if he even deserved such wonderful feelings.
When it comes to sex, you better believe this man's got some weird shame thing related to sex
He sees it as a filthy task that he, unfortunately, likes to partake in.
He's ashamed even bringing it up, let alone asking for it.
But once you get the memo you take action and calmly and gently take care of him
Akutagawa's been used to violence, been used to screams of pain and agony, but this? It's soft. It's sweet. It's tender. He's not used to it but part of him wants to be. He's never been so happy in his life.
He's not the type to whine and whimper so much like Atsushi, instead he'll let out a low grunt here and there and maybe throw in a moan somewhere too.
He's into the wildest things, most of which involving your ability with his. It's probably some weird psychological thing where he's associated his ability strength = worth thing to the bedroom which......isn't healthy.
But once you're done his sickly little body is spent, his already damaged lungs trying desperately to keep moving. You hold him over your shoulder, as being carried bridal style would mess with his pride. Arm wrapped around your shoulder and tugging at you inner arm, he leans into you the way he's never done for anyone before.
He feels odd now, as if he's just discovered something new. Learning and even participating in sex has left him with many questions, that hopefully you could answer.
#bsd#bsd x reader#dom reader#sub character#sub and dom#bungou stray dogs#chuuya nakahara#atsushi nakajima#dazai osamu#fyodor dostoevsky#ranpo edogawa#x reader#fanfiction#x reader fanfiction
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introduction to the WORMS IN MY BRAIN jk this is a modern fantasy au for baldurs gate 3 plain text and more info under the cut
intro to the au, forewarning i haven't done much research, and my first playthrough of the game isn't done yet (I AM in act three tho I swear 2/3rds of the three guys r dealt with and so is cazador.) keep in mind i have no idea what i'm doing.
the mindflayer stuff is like. an experimental implant they all dubiously agreed to without all the info. extra enhancements (like the other tadpoles in game) are like drugs, and they appear once weekly at everyone's doors whether they want it or not. initial implant stabilizes Karlach's engine, helps with Astarion's vampire stuff, etc. etc. and the extras just feel good to use, it's addictive.
all of them are in a support group together meant to encourage them to stay clean from the extra tadpoles. time they've spent with the group varies.
there WILL be more detailed posts for them later, i have a lot of thoughts on Karlach and Wyll especially. implied/possible shadowzel and wyllstarion. my tav will be present, this is very self indulgent and i am in lesbians with Karlach.
plain text for images:
KARLACH
6'11" - 7'
construction worker.
her first job was disastrous.
foreman Goretash pushed her into dangerous situations that she felt pressured to be in because she was the newbie.
things went wrong with the electrical on the job site, landing her in the hospital with a near-fatal heart problem.
but good* news! avernus co. offered her a mechanical heart for the low, low price of a ten year work contract! (strings attached.)
she's out of the contract now, and avernus co. is refusing to maintain her heart (and the other "upgrades" they gave her without consent.)
still in construction, unionized and a loud advocate for workers rights.
can't do caffeine. her coffee order is a creamy chocolate chill from TImothy Horthingtons.
favourite board game is ticket to ride or uno, surprisingly mean and competitive in games.
SHADOWHEART
5'6"
works at hot topic (emo)
just got out of the commune, full swing edgy phase and does NOT know how un-niche her music is yet (please don't tell her)(she might cry)
"adopted" by Shar's cult when she was little, doesn't remember much before or after that beyond what other members told her.
dissecting her faith.
roommates with Lae'zel. (they hate each other)
"roommates" with Lae'zel also. (they still hate each other) (kinda)
rps her fursona COOL CAT CHARACTER DO NOT STEAL online.
very afraid of wolves which does include sparkledogs and makes rp super difficult.
her favourite board game is catan or any ttrpg.
if asked, her coffee order is "black, like my tortured soul" but she actually gets a vanilla latte with extra syrup and sweet foam. (oat milk because regular makes her tummy hurt)
LAE'ZEL
5'7" and gods does she ever hold that extra inch over Shadowheart.
works as a personal trainer, her clients are scared of her which makes her VERY effective for the right people.
insults clients, perfectionist.
mommy issues x100
the creche has a very community/it takes a village style of raising but they do a really bad job.
she wants to be the BEST of her siblings, doesn't take failure well.
loves competitive solo sports, hiking, marathons, bouldering, boxing, etc. etc.
delights in pushing Shadowheart's buttons.
she doesn't drink coffee, her order is a smoothie.
willingly drinks the ones with kale like a CRAZY PERSON.
favourite board game is chess and while she is good at it she is a SORE loser.
WYLL
6'1"
used to work for avernus co. and now works a much quieter, mostly Mizora-free job at an elementary school.
the students favourite gym teacher.
estranged from his dad after a huge, explosive misunderstanding re: the very un-HR Mizora incident(s)
likes Go Fish and cribbage, but he's happy playing any board game the others suggest.
generally just happy to be here.
coffee of choice is an americano with a shot of apple cinnamon syrup.
loves knitting.
definitely not crushing on Astarion whaaat crazyyyy.....
his watch is from his dad. he looks at it when he misses him.
misses him a lot.
ASTARION
5'9"
former troubled teen kicked out by his rich parents.
Cazador was a "pastor" that took him under his wing and adopted him into his group home (for a price)
in debt to him now and can't outrun it.
has two jobs.
works at Olive Garden, HATES IT.
works at (insert coffee shop chain here) ALSO HATES IT.
somehow has a very popular aesthetic tumblr blog in the year of our lord 20XX
coffee order is an iced caramel latte (sometimes gets strawberry/cherry/raspberry syrup to make his pictures cooler)
his favourite board game is monopoly (he steals from the bank) but he DESPISES cheaters edition because that "takes all the fun out of it"
Wyll's feelings are mutual and he knows about them but he's too insecure to talk to Wyll about it (nerd)
GALE
5'11"
unemployed, formerly university librarian/professor.
is not over his ex, will not be over his ex for the foreseeable future.
eventually goes to a new university to teach tho.
zero rizz, this man uses mage hand to play wizard wonderwall while concentrating very hard and that makes him look constipated sorry Gale likers.
has a part time job at a Barnabus and Noblemans before going to the new university.
commissioned Wyll to make his sweater vest in affront-to-the-gods purple.
wrote some very prolific papers in the wizard community.
coffee order is matcha or a mocha
favourite board game is clue. he gets really into it.
#:) art tag#snuurps bg3 au#baldurs gate 3#bg3#karlach#astarion#shadowheart#wyll#laezel#gale#digital art#baldurs gate 3 au#implied shadowzel#implied wyllstarion#shadowzel#wyllstarion#gales alone guys sorry he needs to work on himself and maybe learn a better song on guitar#astarion ancunin#karlach cliffgate#gale dekarios#wyll ravengard#im tagging this with everything sowwy#baldurs gate 3 fanart
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JAMIE TARTT | comfort crowd, you can always count.
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.5k
SUMMARY: reader gets cheated on and jamie, whose trying to be a better friend and person, decides to help her out by hiding her phone for the day.
WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, language
A/N: first time writing something full length but i hope you guys enjoy this! sorry for the length but feel free to give any comments! (also, pretend that jamie continued to see dr. sharon after she leaves the team like ted did) EDIT: changed the title which is now based on the song comfort crowd by conan gray :)
As a physical therapist for a football team, there could be a multitude of reasons why a coach would call you down during training. Maybe someone twisted their ankle or landed on their foot the wrong way. Maybe it was because they did that stupid red string drill again. You really didn’t want to explain all over again that treating that was not your area of expertise.
Luckily, everything seemed to be going smoothly as you walked onto the field and find the team doing their regular drills. All, except one player. You find Ted and Jamie in the middle of an argument — well, more of Ted joking around while Jamie was whining about something, the usual — and you approach them.
"Hi Coach, Jamie." You greet them, before asking Ted why he called for you. Without a verbal response, he surprises you by tossing an object to you. You swiftly catch it and dodge Jamie as he tries to reach out and grab it. You look down to see Jamie's phone.
You turn curiously to Ted who finally explains what is going on. "Our star player here," he rests his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, "managed to sneak his phone onto the pitch during training." At this point, poor Jamie is practically scowling.
You try and hide your amusement, though can't help but let out a small laugh. Even with how he was acting right now, he still looked cute. Objectively, of course. Everyone on the team knew you had a boyfriend back home, so none of them ever tried something. That didn't mean you couldn't admire the aesthetics of the players. Well, a player.
You started working at the club a little after Jamie went back to Man City, but everyone was pretty clear about their grievances with the guy, especially after the team got relegated. You vaguely remember Colin saying something about a jaundiced worm? So when he returned, you made sure to steer clear of him outside of your work obligations. Your feelings towards him were more apathy than anything else. But, once he started to get along with the team, that was basically your go signal to be nicer to him.
In truth, you probably knew more about Jamie than you needed to, given how often he visits the treatment room. Even if it was just a small cramp or ache, he would request a quick check-up or PT session to make sure he can still play. During those times, you would end up chatting with him and talking about whatever was going on in both of your lives. That's probably why Ted decided to give the phone to you since he knew that you were one of the only people Jamie wouldn't wrestle to get it back.
"Now, why don't you hold on to that and Jamie can swing by your office to get it after practice, yeah?" Ted instructs you and you're more than happy to oblige.
"Sure thing, Coach." You smile as you slide his phone into your back pocket. You turn to Jamie who now has a defeated look on his face. "See you later, Jamie."
"Yeah, yeah," He responded, as you leave to go back to the treatment room.
A few hours later, their training finished and the team was getting ready to go home. You contemplated going down and returning Jamie's phone yourself, but why make it easier for him? Since none of the players needed any treatment that day and all the records were backed up and updated, you spent most of the day aimlessly scrolling through your phone and the computer in the office.
You liked looking through social media to see what your friends and family were doing back home. It was hard being away from them for so long, but it was always a dream of yours to go abroad. When you got the offer to work for Richmond, you just couldn't pass it up. Luckily, the daily calls and messages from your parents, friends, and your boyfriend Matt, helped treat the homesickness a little bit. Though recently, Matt's were much more scattered. You didn't think much of it, assuming that he was just busy at work.
You were starting to pack up for the day when you hear a ping from your phone. You expect it to be a message from Matt checking in on you, but instead, see a message from one of your best friends. ‘Hey! Heard about you and Matt, I'm so sorry. I know you're busy with your new life in England, but I'm always here if you need to talk.’
Both confusion and anxiety fill you as you finish reading the text. Why would she be sorry? You send a quick ‘???’ before three dots appear on her end.
‘I'm at a party rn and I saw Matt with a new girl? He said you guys broke up ages ago.’
You feel your heart racing. There's no way he would do that. It's Matt, for Christ's sake! You've been together since college and your relationship has survived worse things than long distance. Your lack of response prompts your friend to send another message — ‘I'm so sorry this is how you found out’, — along with a picture this time. Your hands are trembling as you open it and you see Matt in the background making out with another girl.
That was enough to break the dam. You feel tears pooling in your eyes blurring your vision. You turn off your phone and just let the tears fall. It was already late, so there was less chance of someone walking in on you at such a low moment. Except, you forgot that you were still holding onto something.
Jamie, your most frequent visitor, didn't bother to knock and simply barged in. "Okay! Training’s over, it's time to return what's mine. Where are you keeping it hostage?" He greeted jokingly, which you couldn't even chuckle at.
You grabbed his phone from your desk drawer and reached out your hand for him to take it without even looking up. He accepts it gratefully and you swear you even hear him give it a kiss. He continued to celebrate before asking if you looked through it by any chance. You shake your head, more furiously than you intended, and hope that it was enough to get him to leave. But Jamie knew you better than you thought. Your slumped position and the fact you hadn't looked at him this whole time were good hints, but when he heard your quiet sniffles, he knew for sure.
"Fuck, are you crying?" You shake your head again, even more desperate for him to leave. Yes, you were comfortable around him, but having a breakdown in front of someone is at least a level 5 friendship type of thing.
You feel him spin the chair to make you face him. You still don't look up from your position, continuing to pick at your fingernails. He crouches down to your level and places his hands on your shoulders to try and comfort you. When you still don't look up at him, he finally asks, "What happened?"
"Just some stupid shit, Jamie. Don't worry." You respond shakily, as you try and wipe the tears from your eyes.
"It can't be that stupid if you're crying at work about it." You let out a weak laugh and finally look up at him. His features are much softer than usual, even giving you a smile as you face him. Not his usual cocky smirks he does when he scores a goal or when he jokingly flirts with you. A genuine smile, one that helped ease your sadness a little bit.
At this point, Jamie has already seen your puffy face that for sure has obvious tear streaks, — you always hate how red your face gets when you cry — so how much of a stretch would it be to just tell him what's going on? You reach back for your phone which still has your friend’s chat open and hand it to him.
It takes a few seconds before Jamie realizes what's going on. "Oh, fuck."
He returns the phone to your hands, but not a second later, he's already enveloping you in a hug. It's hard to ignore how this is the first time you've ever had physical contact with Jamie outside of your PT sessions and it's even harder to not feel embarrassed of the reason why.
"I'm so sorry," He whispers and you can't help but laugh as you remove yourself from him.
"Why are you saying sorry? It's not like you're the one who cheated on me. It's that dipshit over there in the photo." You emphasize the last word as you return your phone to the table. "I don't even know why I held on so long. I just hoped that we could make it, you know? We’ve been together for years!" You start, trying to hold back tears as you explain it to Jamie. "What makes it more shitty is that he didn't even have the balls to break it off with me first."
You sigh, "You know what, maybe it's me. Maybe I shouldn't have gone halfway across the world without him. If I didn't, then—"
"No, fuck that!" Jamie interrupts you as he stands up, his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. "If anyone's at fault, it's him. You didn't do shit, so stop blaming yourself."
You can't help but be surprised at how passionate Jamie is about this, his tone reminding you of Roy. It must've shown on your face because Jamie takes a step back. "Sorry if I shouted,"
You laugh. "No, it's fine. You're right, fuck him." You get up from your chair and start collecting your stuff. Once you're ready to leave, you turn once again to the football player. "Thanks, by the way. See you tomorrow, Jamie."
As you make your way to the door, Jamie stops you. "Wait, how are you getting home?"
"Oh, I usually just walk." You respond, rubbing your nose.
"No way. Come on, I'm driving you." Jamie declares and before you can even protest, he's grabbed your hand and dragging you out of the treatment room.
"Jamie, I am perfectly capable of walking home." You remind him as the two of you make it to the parking lot. It is already dark out and definitely colder than you expected, but you remain unfazed. You didn't want to burden the football player anymore, but when had Jamie ever not been stubborn?
"I'm sure you are, but I've been working on being a good person, so who am I to let a girl walk home alone this late?" When Jamie opened the door of the passenger side for you and did a small bow, you rolled your eyes.
"You know, most good people don't say they're good people." You point out as you finally give in and sit in the car.
"I told you I'm working on it." He reminds you as he closes your door. You chuckled, as you make yourself comfortable. You knew that all the players including Jamie had expensive and extravagant cars, but you didn't realize how nice it was even in the interior.
You don't have enough time to admire the inside though, as Jamie gets into the driver's seat and starts the car. He instructs you to put on your seatbelt in his usual Mancunian accent which makes you laugh. The last time someone reminded you to put on your seatbelt was when your mom was visiting and you had to take a taxi back to your flat.
You input your address on his phone and finally leave the parking lot. The drive to your house was quiet, and you weren't sure if it was an awkward or comfortable silence. Maybe somewhere in between, given that Jamie didn't seem too bothered by it. It took around 10 minutes before either of you said anything since you spent that time looking through your phone.
You went through your friends' posts and notice a lot of them were at that party. In almost all of them, Matt was with that girl. You don't even recognize her, so if she was at that party, it meant that he brought her with him.
You decide to take your mind off it and finally asked something that has been on your mind since you left. "Jamie, why are you being so nice to me?"
You see him get ready to give his whole "trying to be a better person” speech and stop him. "I get you are trying to improve yourself, but you didn't have to offer to drive me home."
"Did you really want to walk home tonight?" He glances at you quickly, before turning back to the road. Truthfully, you didn't.
Despite having lived in London for a few months, it still took an abnormal amount of focus to navigate the town. Not to mention the care it takes to make sure you don't get hit by a car by looking at the wrong side. You were in no state to make it home by yourself.
Noticing your silence, Jamie took that as your answer. "Look, we're friends, yeah? As my friend, I wouldn't want to leave you roaming the city by yourself and not being sure if you'd get home safe." You smile but keep your head straight.
He adds, "Plus, you just got your heart broken. Part of me’s worried you'd just end up in a pub and fuck someone to get over him."
You turn to him shock and punch his shoulder. "Jamie, is that what you think of me? That I'd go and find the first guy willing to sleep with me and go home with him?"
"It's what I would do!" You roll your eyes. Sometimes, you forget that the old Jamie is still in there, the him that can be a total prick. Most of the time he only came out during games, but turns out there isn’t a definite on-and-off switch for it.
"Well, I'm not Jamie fucking Tartt. But you're right, I probably would've gotten lost and ended up in a bar." You finally admit and turn to look out the window and sigh.
Jamie must've sensed something and quickly apologizes. "Hey, I didn't actually mean that. I know you wouldn't find a one-night stand. I mean, to be honest, I haven't had one in a while either, so I don't know why—"
You cringe and urge him to stop. "Jamie, it's fine. I know you don't mean it like that." He relaxes and nods his head, causing you to let out a small laugh at how nervous he was to make you feel bad.
"But thank you," You say as he turns the corner to your flat. As he stops the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to him. "for you know, being a good friend."
You see the footballer give you a smile, a genuine one like before. Soon after though, he asks, "Could I get that in writing? I need proof for Dr. Sharon."
You roll your eyes as you get out. "Good night, Jamie."
You walk into the building and only hear the car leave once you close the door behind you. You go up to your flat and you've never been so happy to see your bed. You take off your shoes but don't even bother changing. You spend the next few hours scrolling through whatever posts you could find that have Matt in them.
—
It's been a few weeks since that night, but your habits are even worse than before. Checking Matt's posts, looking at what his friends are saying, even stalking his new girlfriend's account was basically part of your daily routine. She's fucking beautiful too, much to your dismay.
It's even starting to affect your work. If he hadn't shrieked in pain, you would've twisted Richard's foot off. All you were thinking about that session was the post you saw. It was a picture of Matt and the girl with the caption, ‘my favorite girl ;)’
You apologized profusely to Richard and check to make sure you didn't do too much damage. You spend the rest of the session thinking about something else. Anything else, like how nice the weather has been. How well the team's doing. How empty your bedroom wall looks now that you took off all the pictures with Matt. Fuck.
The next day, you head to the locker room to talk to Richard and to also see if anyone needs any treatment. You sit on the bench nearest to the door as you wait for the whole team. You quickly greet the players passing by you, but can't take your eyes off your phone. That is until someone rips it from your grasp.
"Hey!" You look up to see Jamie in some of his usual clothes. Dark tie-die hoodie, his 'ICON' hat, and the fanny pack where he puts your phone in. He ignores your protest and simply replied, "You're blocking my locker."
"Jamie, give it back!" You stand up and try and grab his bag, but he quickly takes it off and throws it to Ted, who had just walked out of his office. He catches it and turns to the two of you in surprise.
"You mind keeping that in your office, Coach? Need to keep this one," Jamie slings his arm on your shoulders, "away from it."
You try and plead with Ted, but he was already throwing it to Beard who shoved it in his desk drawer and locked it without question. You plop down on the bench in defeat, but not without glaring up at Jamie.
"Jamie, I will never forgive you for this." You say as seriously as you can, but it only makes him laugh.
"You'll get it back at the end of the day." He says as he moves to take off his hoodie. You leave him to get ready and head to Richard to give him some ointment for his ankle if it bloats (you can't help but notice him flinch when you come near), before heading to the treatment room to get your treatment bag. If you weren't going to have your phone this whole time, might as well find entertainment on the pitch.
You reach the pitch and settle down next to Will, who was setting up. You make small talk with the kitman as the team starts to make their way to the pitch for training. You watch Jamie pass by, who then turns around and stops in front of you. "What are you doing down here?"
"Do you really have to ask?”
"So you'll be here for all of training?" He asks, and you nod in response. "Okay then, enjoy the view." Jamie winks at you and you only roll your eyes, as he gives you a confident smirk before joining his teammates.
If he had done that a month ago, you wouldn't have batted an eye. It's just Jamie being Jamie, right? But after breaking up with Matt and how kind Jamie was that night, it's almost like his little habits have a new meaning.
Walking with you when you arrive at the same time, bringing you his extra pastries when he gets free muffins from the girl who runs the nearby bakery, and even what he did today. It pissed you off, yeah, but you had to admit that it was for the better. Can't be tempted to check Matt's page if you don't have anything to check it with, right?
But you shake it off. Jamie's just a friend, a really attractive, kind, and fun to be around friend. Even if you were starting to like him — which you weren't, — it didn't matter. Jamie didn't see you like that. He's just trying to be a better person and him helping you was just a way for him to do that.
You spend the rest of your morning watching training, either being entertained by their game or looking out for any of the players getting injured. It was pretty light drills given that they had a game soon. If you weren't doing that, you were listening to Will talking about what he planned on doing during the weekend. He even invited you to a nice jazz bar, which you kindly declined.
Once they were out for their lunch break, you leave your treatment bag there since you'd be back anyway for the afternoon training. You wave goodbye to Will before walking back inside the building. As some of the players pass by you, you compliment how well they're doing in training which is met by a chorus of thank you's.
You almost open the door to the treatment room, when you hear someone call out your name. You see Jamie jogging towards you. "How's the phone drought going?"
"Well, I would've used it to call my best friend who is halfway across the world and eat lunch with them, but as you know," you shrug, watching a hint of guilt grow on the football player’s face. "I'm kidding. What's up?"
"Do you wanna go out for lunch? Keeley said there's a nice Italian place down the road from here." He explained.
"Did she also say to post it on your socials?" You add and when he takes a second to answer, you both laugh. "Sure, sounds fun. Though, I'm not taking any pictures of you." Jamie exaggerates his disappointment, placing his hand on his chest and groaning as if he's just gotten shot.
Jamie puts on a sweatshirt to hide his kit — as if that's the only way people would recognize him — before the two of you head over to the restaurant. It was way too packed to get a table so you guys decide to order take-out and eat it at your office instead.
You guys make your way back to the building, talking about the most random things. Jamie mentioned how a fan had seen him at a restaurant and spent fifteen minutes explaining and analyzing how the footballer could've won Lust Conquers All. You mentioned how much you loved Vanilla ice cream because when your parents would buy the Neapolitan ice cream, — the 3-in-1 deal was hard to resist — it was the only flavor your brothers hadn't completely devoured by the time you got some.
It didn't stop when you made it back to the building and had your lunch. As always, Keeley knew the perfect places to endorse. The Carbonara pasta from the place was absolutely delicious and after trading some for Jamie's meal, the Chicken and Mushroom Risotto might even taste better.
You had taken a picture of the food before you started eating, but Jamie needed a picture of himself with the food for his post. Despite your statement earlier, you decide to take a picture for him anyway, for Keeley. As you took multiple shots, you started joking around to get him to make a genuine smile. Jokes ranged from ones about the sounds his teammates made during sessions and ones about the old celebration videos of Ted. You finally get a satisfying picture and call Jamie over. He leans over your shoulder and you feel the heat rising in your face.
"Looks good," He says before sitting back down in his chair. You return his phone to him and continue to eat your Carbonara before you hear a shutter sound. You look up to see Jamie taking pictures of you. You try and (fail to) cover the camera as it’s your turn to laugh at the jokes Jamie was making. "Here, some photos of you if you feel like posting. You look nice,"
You try and ignore the feeling you get after he said that. "Thanks, Jamie. You mind sending those to me when I get my phone back?" He chuckles and nods.
The two of you continue to spend the lunch together till you had to get back on the pitch. It was only while walking did you realize that you didn't think of Matt the entire lunch time. You don't know if Jamie had been doing it on purpose, but if he was, he was doing a great job at helping you forget him. Like a good friend.
The second half of training was even more relaxed than the first, so no emergency situations for you to deal with. Sam was getting cramps after training though, so you decided to have a session with him before leaving for the day. You wait outside till most of the players had changed to find Jamie.
You see him fastening his fanny pack as he leaves the locker room and you reach out to grab it. But he's quicker. "Nope, don't you have a PT session with Sam? Your day isn't over just yet." That said football player was still changing, so you still had some time.
"Aren't you heading home soon?" You continue to try and reach over Jamie's broad chest to take it but to no avail.
"I can wait. Look, Sam's ready." You turn around to see Sam in a nice collared shirt and his spare training shorts. He'd only brought jeans to change and it's pretty difficult to treat him in them, so you'd asked him to wear whatever shorts he had.
You give him a smile and lead him to the treatment room, not without giving Jamie a less-than-polite gesture. You hear him chuckle — “Guess you really want me to be a prick, huh?” — as you close the door behind you.
Sam said the cramps weren't too bad, but you still wanted to be thorough in case they came back later tonight. It took around 45 minutes, and Sam seemed much better afterward.
"Thank you so much," Sam said as he sat up from his position. "and sorry for holding you up, I know how much you want to go home before leaving for the game tomorrow."
"It's alright, Sam. It's my job to make sure you guys are fit and ready for all your matches. Good luck, yeah?" Sam thanks you again and hops down from the treatment table, grabbing his jacket and heading out. You stretch your back and relax before you hear the door open again.
You don't have to look up to know who it is. "Thank God, where's my phone, Tartt?"
Jamie lets out an exaggerated gasp. "We back to last-name basis now?" He tosses your phone to you, and you find multiple messages waiting. You decide to check them on the way home and slide your phone into your back pocket.
"I already sent the pics I took earlier, plus my own, in case you ever want to print it and hang it on your wall." You give up even rolling your eyes at him. You grab the bag that you fixed before the session and start heading out the door. Jamie appears at your side as you walk to the parking lot.
"Deja vu, huh?" You say as Jamie's car is the only one in the parking lot.
"Feel like going for a joyride?" He says as you turn to face him.
Your eyebrows knit together. "We’re going to be stuck on a bus for hours tomorrow. Don't you want to go home and rest or something?"
He checks his watch and shrugs. "We still got time." He leads you to the car, but this time you open the door for yourself and slide in.
You watch Jamie start the car without putting an address into his phone. As the two of you buckle your seatbelt and leave, you start to scroll through your texts.
Your unread messages were made up of your parents sending pictures from their spontaneous date, one of your brothers asking for a video message from Isaac for his son's birthday, and your friends trying to organize a trip to visit you.
You reply to as many of the messages as you can before you notice that Matt still hasn't sent you anything. No apology, explanation, or anything. You take a deep breath and finally unfollow him and the rest of his friends. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of you. You put the final nail in the coffin when you blocked his number. This is it, and you've never felt better.
You look up and realize that you don't recognize any of your surroundings. You turn to Jamie who is still unfazed by it, looking straight ahead.
"Jamie, if this good friend thing was all just some elaborate ruse to bring me to the middle of nowhere and murder me, you are obligated to tell me right now."
Jamie lets out a laugh. "Calm down, will you? We're here," You turn toward the dashboard and see some people walking on the sidewalk. At least there's still civilization here. He stops the car and parks it in front of this beautiful garden.
You get out of the car and walk towards the gate. Even with the dim lights, the place looks much more lively than the rest of the area. The entire garden is a mix of various flowers and plants, colors ranging from relaxing white and green to some brighter ones like violet and yellow. Jamie opens the gate for the both of you as you look around in awe. The two of you walk over to one of the benches in front of a small lake bordered by a fence. Despite its main purpose of making sure no one falls in, it doesn't seem out of place in the area.
"You know, if you were planning on murdering me, I wouldn't mind dying in a place like this." You turn to Jamie as you sit down. He gives you a small smile before settling next to you. "How'd you even find this place?"
Jamie hesitated for a minute, and you quickly add, "You don't have to tell me if it's too much." Jamie shakes his head and sighs.
"Back when I just got back to Richmond, I still had a lot of shit to make up for. Everyone still hated me, and I didn't really know what to do. I was pissed that they didn't want to give me a chance, so I tried to talk to Keeley about it. She brought me to Dr. Sharon." You knew that a lot of the players were seeing her when she worked here, but you didn't realize that even Jamie was seeing her.
"She knew I was trying, but said it didn't help that I'd get riled up during games and sometimes go back to my old habits like hogging the ball, so she told me to find something or someplace to relax before them. I drove around that night and just went around till I found this place. It was like a mini field of flowers like the ones in Amsterdam that my mom took me to when I was a kid."
"I go here every night before a game or before we leave for an away game and just sit here, looking at the lake and the flowers. It relaxes me, I guess." Jamie looks down and starts playing with his hands, and you see a version of the football player that you've never seen before. This Jamie is vulnerable, quiet, nervous even. He was sharing a part of himself and you’d be a massive prick if you made him feel bad about it.
You reach out and grab his hand and enclose it with both of yours. You keep your eyes on him as he looks up to meet them. You smile at him and hope it eases his nerves even just a little bit like he did for you back then. It does, as seen in how his shoulders relax afterward.
"Thanks for sharing this with me, Jamie. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone else and you can continue to keep this place all to yourself." You nudge him with your shoulder before standing up to look at the lake. It almost looked like the water was glowing, illuminating the fish swimming in it.
Jamie moves to stand next to you. You two are both quiet for a beat, before he interlaces your fingers again, "Maybe not all to myself." You turn to him and see his expression, a mix of his usual confident self but the vulnerability from a while ago. Without thinking, you lean in to kiss him.
If it caught him by surprise, he didn't show it. Jamie kisses you back, more enthusiastically than you expected. You let go of his hand and interlace your fingers behind his neck. His hands travel down to your waist and you feel him smile against you. Your back presses against the railing as he continues to deepen the kiss and holds you closer to him to steady you. Your senses kick in and finally pull away when you realize that you're in public.
"Shit Jamie, not here," You whisper, looking around to see if anyone caught you making out with AFC Richmond's star player.
"You wanna head back to your place?" That's what makes you push him away and he chuckles.
"Take me out on a few dates." You give him a quick kiss on the lips before walking back to the car. "Maybe I'll consider it then."
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fic#jamie tartt fluff#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt fanfic
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Smoker x Pirate!Reader Relationship Headcanons
Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Mild Sexualization
𓆃 This... isn't going to go as well as you think it will.
𓆃 Because Smoker is one of the last people in the service who will throw away all of his deeply held views on justice and what that means just to chase the tail of an attractive pirate.
𓆃 Much of your relationship— or lack thereof— will look relatively normal on the outside with Smoker chasing you and you running from the Marines like the pirate you are.
𓆃 And any enjoyment you get out of your limited interactions will be largely up to you. It's on you whether you want to tease him, drag on your fights, and give him a firm slap on the ass before you leave, because Smoker isn't about to initiate any sort of closeness or fondness from his end.
𓆃 He's never going to make comments that resemble anything complimentary or claim his goals are anything different than taking you into custody.
𓆃 Although Smoker is a fan of repartee. So, while worming your way out of your Marine/pirate relationship is a no-go, you can warm him up to you through witty banter.
𓆃 And depending on your demeanor, you can essentially make yourself a part of Smoker's routine, and fighting you suddenly turns into a formality.
𓆃 "I suppose there's no way I could ask you to turn yourself in quietly, huh?" Smoker puffs every time, taking a drag of his cigar with his eyes cast toward the sky. He already knows how things between you end.
𓆃 You'll get away, and it'll be time for him to track you down so you can banter with him and start the cycle all over again.
𓆃 While his intentions to follow through with his orders will never quell, the more he develops a soft spot for you, the more negotiating he'll begin to do.
𓆃 First, they're with himself, as if his growing fondness and fixation for you are normal for his line of work.
𓆃 "It's a matter of pride," he'll grumble, "I'm a Marine, goddammit."
𓆃 Sticking to the work excuse doesn't last for long. After all, Smoker isn't one to lie to himself. And so the negotiations will shift to you.
𓆃 "You're wasted as a goddam pirate," "Look, if you turn yourself in, I might be able to pull a few strings to get you back on your feet after your sentencing," "We've been through this song and dance enough... c'mon now."
𓆃 You're not sure if he realizes that he's subconsciously resorted to trying to convince you to become a part of his world. That somehow you might join up or leave your life of crime behind— like that would change anything.
𓆃 Smoker will walk up to you with a sigh, his weapon thrown across his shoulder and his opposite hand in the pocket of his jacket.
𓆃 "No way you're turnin' yourself in?" he'll ask.
𓆃 "No chance in hell, Smoky," you'll tell him with a shake of your head.
𓆃 And that's how your relationship will go.
𓆃 There might be some times when he has no other choice but to deviate from your usual routine. Perhaps the stars aligned in your favor or the cards were stacked against him in a scenario where it made more sense to let you go.
𓆃 Or maybe he'll give into a lapse in judgment, giving into you a bit more but still never dropping his closely-held position in the Marines for a second.
𓆃 The only stability you'll have together is the consistent cycle of him trying to arrest you. And unless one of you gives in, that's all you'll ever truly be.
𓆃 No matter what the feelings are, what's happened in the past, or the fleeting moments of intimacy, Smoker isn't going to be the one to break.
𓆃 So it becomes a question of your freedom and if you're willing to give that up for the mere chance of a life with a man who you don't even know will truly accept you because of your past.
𓆃 Perhaps you'll see if and when the World Government crumbles...
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
#smoker x reader#vice admiral smoker x reader#captain smoker x reader#op x reader#one piece x reader#smoker#op smoker#one piece smoker#white chase smoker#captain smoker#vice admiral smoker#one piece reader insert#x you#x reader#reader insert#smoker headcanons#x gn!reader#x male reader
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6:47pm
You stare with your mouth open wide at the small device clutched in your hands.
Fingers twitching, you bring the lit-up screen concerningly close to your face, squinting your eyes at the picture at on your phone.
“Is his hair...purple?” you whisper out loud.
Not that there was anyone else in the room with you, but still. You weren’t sure if you could believe your eyes.
The sudden ringing sound signaling you were receiving an incoming call startled you out of your trance. Taking a glance at the caller id, you can’t help but snort.
Speak of the fucking devil.
“Hello?”
“Hi sweetheart,” Jongho’s voice rang out through your speaker.
“You don’t deserve to call me that.”
You listened as Jongho sputtered, letting out an incomprehensible string of words.
“Huh?”
“You don’t deserve to call me ‘sweetheart’ after what you did,” you repeated.
“I’m sorry, did I do something to upset you? Or bother you? I know I haven’t been able to stop by, but you know how it gets when promotions start. I promise you baby, as soon as I get the chance I’ll rush over to your place and we can spend as much time as you want together. I’ll event take you to that cafe you’ve been wanting to try,” Jongho rambles through the line.
A small smile worms its way onto your face. You almost start to feel a little bad about scaring him like that, but another glance at the picture on your phone has you feeling betrayed all over again.
“Honey? Are you there?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to dye your hair purple,” you pout.
“I-what?”
“And I had to find out through pictures of your stage today. Seriously, I can’t believe you would do this to me jjong.”
A laugh of disbelief rings through your speaker.
“Is that what this is about? You’re pouty because I didn’t show you my hair color?”
As soon as he finishes speaking, Jongho begins to let out loud laughs that echo throughout your room.
“Don’t laugh at me! This is serious!” you argue. “I thought I was the love of your life! But you didn’t even tell me you were finally going purple. And when did you even get a chance to do that? We literally video chatted last night and you were at the dorms with the guys.”
More laughs come from Jongho’s end.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, especially because I know how much you’ve wanted me to do a fun color with my hair. And for your information, I had to wake up super early today to get it done.”
You sigh and click your tongue.
“Just because you look hot with purple hair doesn’t mean you’re off the hook Choi.”
Jongho hums.
“I’m willing to deal with the consequences.” He’s quiet for a moment before speaking again. “So, you think I look hot?”
A smile makes it’s way onto your face and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“You’re always hot, but something about the purple...,” you trail off. “Very nice.”
Jongho lets out a small giggle and you can’t stop the fuzzy feeling that blossoms in your chest hearing him laugh.
“Well I’m glad you approve. And I can’t wait to show it to you in person. I miss you baby,” Jongho’s voice becomes softer towards the end of his sentence.
“I miss you too, but you and the guys are doing absolutely amazing this comeback. Seriously, you guys always do freaking amazing, but this comeback you guys are really glowing, so continue to go out there and make me and atiny’s proud,” you cheer him on.
Although you can’t see him, you know Jongho well enough to imagine the smile that most likely sits on his face from your words.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Distantly, you can hear what sounds like Hongjoong’s voice calling for the boys.
“I have to go now, but I promise to text you when I get back to the dorms. I love you,” Jongho says.
“I love you too, jjong. Get some rest.”
After hanging up the phone, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through Twitter and saving some of your favorite pictures of Jongho. You’re about to get up and begin getting changed when an idea strikes you.
You send one last text to your boyfriend before going to the bathroom.
Should I dye my hair purple too? We can match ;)
When you come back, Jongho’s reply makes you laugh.
Don’t mess with my heart like that baby.
But if you do, please give me a warning.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
RIBOS HOW ARE WE DOING???
bc im not okay lol I woke up to those pictures and immediately spammed my friends.
i think he’s genuinely trying to kill me but its okay
#jongho x reader#choi jongho x reader#choi jongho fluff#jongho imagines#jongho fluff#ateez x reader#ateez imagine#ateez fluff#ateez jongho#ateez jongho x reader#ateez imagines
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So I have fallen into the CotL world and came across an awesome AU called the Heartstring AU by @bleeding-seraphic. I loved this post about Leshy meeting his soulmate (again) and had to write about it.
TW : talks of sacrificing another and mentions of genocide
How did he end up in this predicament? This was the thought running through Leshy's mind as he listened to the lamb that had somehow managed to make him mortal. “-welcome to your new forever home, you genocidal freak.” Ah. Still was quite the spitfire it seems. Even after all these years. “If you need anything, man up and deal with it on your own. Oh. And if you try anything, I'll break both your knees and sacrifice you to your brother. Bye now!” Well, that was quite the whiplash of a threat.
Leshy listens to the sound of feet walking away, used to his dark world forcing him to rely on sound to orient and understand his surroundings. The worm sighs when the coast is clear, reaching down to scratch an itch on his pinky. ‘Damned beast.’ He thinks before being startled by the feeling of something on his finger. He feels it quietly. It was.. A thread? A string of some sort. Thin but strong. Almost like spider silk. It didn't seem to be touching the ground, meaning it was floating or tied to something else. Now he was curious. Where did this strange thread lead to?
He loosely holds it, following where the string directed him to go. A few times, he had to walk around a building or even past some plants. (He was especially careful around those.) As he walked, he could hear someone working in the dirt before standing up. He seemed to be nearing this person and planned to walk right on by, until he realized the string he was following wasn't going around them. It was leading him to them. He feels his hand touch theirs and feels a gaze upon his face. The gentle sparks and warmth he felt where they touched was oddly welcoming if confusing.
They sat in silence for a moment before the other screamed, startling the god. Leshy flinched back, trying to figure out why they were yelling but before they could do anything, the sound of hurried footsteps caught his attention and he stepped back a bit more. “Okay. Okay. What is going on?” The lamb calls out to them. Before Leshy could speak, the other begins to yell at the lamb. “WHY IS THE GOD OF DARKWOOD HERE?!” He's been recognized?
“You must have recognized him wrong, Mel. He is but a rescue from Darkwood.” They say as the lamb tried to calm the other. So Mel is the name of the one his string is tied to? Leshy quickly makes note of that information as he listens on. “My lamb, I think I'd recognize the god who tried to sacrifice me! And even if I didn't, our strings were the same the first time we met and-and they still are!” A sacrifice? There was only one sacrifice that had managed to get away from him. A silent yellow cat who had been set free after he was creeped out. So this ‘Mel’ was the yellow cat he set free? Huh.
The annoying sheep pauses for a moment before speaking with a bit of an uncertain tone. “Are you sure your strings are attached?” “Yes! I've known since I saw it connect while I was at his altar to be sacrificed!” “I see. Well, he won't be able to harm anyone here so I'm giving him another chance. Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Mel. We can talk this over more when things settle down again.”
Leshy hears the cat near him sigh. “Yeah okay.” They say before walking off. Leshy can feel the glare from the lamb on him, but ignores it to process this information. So this string was attached to Mel, a yellow cat he had set free a while back. The only thing left to answer was: what is this string and why is it attaching them?
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Byler Analysis: Mike’s phone calls.
This analysis is going over why Mike’s phone calls were, without a doubt, for Will. Bylers have been talking about this for months now, but I’ve compiled all the evidence I could find.
So, to start us off...
Hawkin’s Lab is owned by the ‘Department of Energy’, which according to Mike, Ted has said is Government/The Military.
In S1, the main antagonists in regard to Hawkins Lab were Connie Frazier and Dr. Brenner. However, by the season finale, Connie was killed by Eleven and Dr. Brenner’s status was unknown.
With the two of them out of the way, we are introduced to Dr. Sam Owens in S2.
Now, whether or not Owens is truly trustworthy or not is a whole other can of worms, but for the sake of this analysis, we will follow his introduction as an ally to the Byers-Hoppers. He was the primary doctor looking after Will and investigating what was going on with him when he was possessed by the Mindflayer. S2 concludes by letting us know that Owens has pulled some strings to give Eleven a new identity and thus a new life: that of JANE HOPPER.
Owens recommends to Hopper that Eleven should lay low for about a year before living freely, as a PRECAUTION (since, like he said before, ‘those people’ aka the bad ones, are gone), but overall, things are safe enough that Owens even approves of Hopper letting Eleven go to the Snow Ball.
S3 starts in June 1985, about six months after S2, which means Eleven’s year of laying low isn’t done yet. But since Owens is in charge of the lab, Eleven and Mike can call on the phone. We also see them using walkie-talkies, so I’m assuming that they don’t call that often as a precaution as well, but they can do it as long as it’s not too frequent.
It is important to note that the lab was not the main antagonist in neither S2 nor S3 (It was the Mindflayer & Russians respectively).
Eleven can even afford to go out a couple of times to the mall with Max without consequence at all. It isn’t until things get bad enough with the ‘flesh flayer’ that the military immediately steps in to cover it all up (and despite their best efforts, the town is still suspicious).
Owens is FIRED at the end of S3 as a consequence of the mall “fire”. This is significant because it means that he no longer holds the power to protect Eleven. Still, he managed to use his contacts (which include allies like Ellen, Wallace, and Hamon) to relocate Eleven + the Byers to Lenora and look after them very discretely.
Because of this plan, Eleven is safe in Lenora enough to go out and have a life as Jane Hopper. However, that plan does NOT include calling Hawkins as that would be FAR TOO RISKY.
She cannot call or be called from Hawkins as it is no longer just a precaution, like when Owens recommended Eleven to lay low for a year, just in case. Now, her staying away from Hawkins (which includes calling there since the phone-lines are tapped) is a NECESSITY for her long-term survival since the cover story is that ‘Eleven is dead’.
Powell’s call about Chrissy’s murder is enough to immediately summon Sullivan to investigate and pin the murders on Eleven. He even tells Owens that there are rumors of her being alive and receiving help from the ‘inside’ aka Owens. WHICH IS TRUE. So, they’re onto Owens and ALL OF THEM require to be extra careful with calling to Hawkins.
Mike was likely not able to talk about Eleven/Jane much during his calls with Will either.
THIS is likely why we see a walkie-talkie on Eleven’s Mike box and why Mike spoke about stealing Cerebro from Dustin at the end of S3.
HOWEVER, because the mail system isn’t under surveillance like phone lines are, LETTERS were established as Mike and El’s primary method of communication.
Whether or not Mike truly did steal Cerebro from Dustin to call El a few times, we see Cerebro at the top of Dustin’s house in what seems to be a very permanent set-up. I personally think this implies Cerebro hasn’t been moved, and their communication happened solely through letters.
But even if, say, Mike went to visit Dustin to use Cerebro (which wasn’t established, but is within the realm of possibilities) it doesn’t change the fact that phone calls were off the table, and thus, those were for Will and Will alone.
So, as Will himself explained, the letters were for Eleven, and phone calls were for HIM.
Which means ... this was all about Mike being unable to reach WILL.
Byler is endgame
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☾ Wild Horses ☽
☾ Pairing: boyfriend!bang chan x reader
☾ Genre: angst & fluff all stirred up in a pot
☾ Summary: Your boyfriend comforts you when your depression sneaks up on you during a night out with friends.
☾ Word Count: 924
☾ Warnings: themes of depression/mental illness and the feelings that can come along with them
☾ A/N: I wrote this because having depression has led to a lot of loneliness for me lately and I needed some comfort. I hope that by sharing this someone else having similar thoughts/feelings to mine might find a little comfort too 🖤
☾ "No sweeping exits or offstage lines could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind and wild horses couldn't drag me away" - The Sundays, Wild Horses
People can’t imagine what you go through. It’s not a case of bad nerves or run-of-the-mill sadness. Too often you’ve found yourself sitting alone wishing that you could find the words to make them understand that depression is so much more than that. Depression is a parasite that’s wormed its way into your brain wholly consuming you.
The consumption’s gradual sometimes, ravenous at others, but exhausting all the same, stealing little bits of you that you aren’t quite sure how to get back. Everyone says, “I hope you feel better. Hang in there. Keep your chin up” but it’s not simple. And maybe they mean well, maybe that’s all they can say because they don’t know how to fix it, but it only makes you feel lonelier.
The thing is, you’ve never wanted anyone to fix it. You don’t need bandaids to cover the bullet holes in your heart. You just want someone to hold your hand through the pain. It’s why the tiniest flame ignites in the darkness that haunts you when the kind, comfort of Chan’s mahogany eyes lock onto yours, honing in on the most vulnerable parts of you.
“I know sometimes you feel like you have to pretend you’re okay,” he says, the warmth of his palms shielding your cheeks from the autumn breeze, “But you don’t have to do that with me. I’m here for you no matter what. You know that, yeah?” You nod, sucking back tears as you notice the small group of late-night partiers crossing over to your side of the street.
With your back to the wall of a closed restaurant not too far from the club you just left, it’s impossible not to be nervous about the faces that pass you by. Even with Chan somewhat obscuring the view, your stomach churns at the possibility that people might see you falling apart like this. “Hey, look at me” Chan whispers, using the sleeve of his black hoodie to catch the tears that drip down your cheeks like water from a leaky faucet.
The gentle act brings your attention back to him. He cracks a tight-lipped smile, happy to have you back with him. “Don’t worry about them. Come here.” He takes you into his arms, offering you his shoulder to rest your head on. You accept the invitation, nuzzling against him to bathe in the comfort and safety that comes with his embrace. There’s a woodsy scent to his cologne that feels like stargazing by a campfire at night. It puts you at ease. Everything about him does.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you sniffle, playing with one of the strings that dangles from his hood. Tucking his hands under your jacket, he massages your lower back, soothing the tension coiled around your spine. “Baby, you could never ruin my night. The guys were too busy drinking to notice anything and even if they did, who cares? You’re what matters to me.” The emotion in his voice leaves no doubt that he means it wholeheartedly.
You are what matters most to him in this moment and the next. It means nothing to him that a night out at some club had to be cut short because the mask you put on to conceal your pain had begun to crumble, the synthetic laughter and forced smiles becoming too much to maintain. Chan gets it, hiding behind a mask with a happy face painted on it, he does it sometimes too but he doesn't want that for you. He’d rather be out here with you baring this beautiful, teary-eyed face of yours than in there where you feel the need to hide.
“I just,” you take a deep breath, slightly trembling at the truth about to roll off your tongue, “I’m afraid I’ll scare you away one day.” “Scare me? Do I look like I scare easily?” he asks, putting on a brave face the way that a child might. It gets a weak giggle out of you, even at times like this he knows how to get to you in the best way. “No, but I know there are times when things get really dark for me and I can get so lost in it...” He kisses you on the nose, a cute little wet one that turns icy when the wind blows across your face.
“As long as I’m here, and I always will be, you’ll never get lost in it,” he promises, “I know I can’t drag you out of it but you can always call me and I’ll come running in after you.” You need time. A second or two, maybe even a minute, to take in what’s been said. He gives it to you, patiently rocking you in his arms as he lets you process it in silence. A year into your relationship and it still feels strange to be loved in the moments where you feel most broken.
Chest to chest, his heart beats in sync with yours, reminding you that, even in the absence of words, you're cared for. “Where’d you come from?” you ask, fingers tracing the contour of his jaw. “Sydney. Don’t tell me you’re just noticing the accent” he teases, summoning his best pouty face for extra effect. He gets another giggle out of you, still faint with an air of sadness but he’ll take it.
Chan hugs you tighter, kissing your fingertips. “I love you” he whispers. You close your eyes, letting the world around you fade away and your insecurities with it. “Love you too.”
#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan angst#bang chan fluff#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#bang chan x gender neutral reader#stray kids x gender neutral reader
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Taylor being paranoid about her passenger is such a fun character trait. Like none of her friends really seemed to give much of a shit when they learned about passengers from Bonesaw, but Taylor consistently notes the times her passenger acted without her consent, she tries to talk with it, communicate with it, just anything to learn what this thing that can control her without her say wants with her. One of my favorite little details is that during the timeskip this was the focus of a lot of her therapy sessions with Yamada, trying methods like hypnosis to communicate. I think part of it is that she's inherently just paranoid about the fact that this thing is helping her sometimes and she doesn't know why and she HAS to figure it out because no one would help out of the kindness of their heart, and another part is just that she can't bear to not be in control and this is something that threatens that in a very ominous way.
Another aspect of her paranoia towards her passenger is that she doesn't want to take blame for her own actions I think. During the Behemoth fight when her ally tried to shoot Phil Sē, she pulled the gun off target with silk and got him killed. She's the one who pulled the string, but because she's genuinely unsure if it was her being wary or her passenger setting up the string she settles on the second option because it absolves her of the possible blame or need to admit she's paranoid and ready to betray people in an instance. When Glenn shows her the video of her being the most terrifying fucker in existence she ignores how horrifying she is and fixated on how her passenger moved her, and then she doesn't have to think about the fact that she'd fit right into the ranks of the Slaughterhouse Nine because well, she can blame her passenger and focus on that instead. This applies to other people too, she sees Lung not using his power and thinks that maybe he's concerned about his passenger like she is. She projects hard onto Sophia in my opinion when she says that she got violent because of her passenger. If this person she doesn't like isn't to blame for everything she inflicted on Taylor, the surely Taylor can't be blamed for the violent steps she took to take over a city. It's another way she rationalizes everything to herself, if something is so bad that she can't justify it immediately there's always the excuse of "my passenger made me do it." But crucially, Taylor ends up being aware of the fact that she's doing this during Gold Morning.
And I think it's really good that this is something she grows and accepts about herself. It's wonderful growth for a character who's so often too stubborn to move herself forward. She's generally more in touch with her passenger during Gold Morning, like the time when she thinks that her and her passenger were in agreement in wanting to hurt Scion on the oil rig. No one else in Worm really seems to accept their passengers, Riley is questioning how much of herself has been subsumed by it, Eidolon is always annoyed it doesn't give what he wants, and most other people don't even know about them. But Taylor forms a bit of a symbiosis with hers after a long time rejecting it at every turn. I think this quote really sums up her feelings towards the end.
And by towards the end I mean like, at the very end, because immediately after this thought she becomes Khepri, and yet another fucking theme and character trait cumulates and reaches its peak with Speck. God damn what a good arc. The blur between Taylor and her passenger that she always feared is finally an actual thing consuming her, and she can finally communicate with her passenger as well. I do wonder what this is like on her passengers end. It's clearly down for the idea of killing its maker, and it's heavily implied that her passenger does care and doesn't want to actually leave Taylor as a husk (too lazy to get the quote because I've been typing for 45 minutes but Contessa remarks upon the administrator claiming everything about her until there's nothing left and she feels fear that she thinks is from both her and her passenger. 30.7 I think, near the end). But there's still so much about Taylor's passenger that's unknown. Was communication something it may have wanted when Taylor kept trying to communicate, but doing so required punching holes in the connection that would lead to more bleed through and functionally destroy its host? Did it slowly grow to care for Taylor more than the cycle, or was it always wanting to fight Scion? Did Taylor's autistic swag convince a multidimensional alien made of crystal to rebel? Is Queen Administrator trans? Idk how to end this post if it's not obvious, sorry.
#worm#parahumans#taylor hebert#skitter#weaver#khepri#queen administrator#ramble#sorry for the abrupt ending but uhhh enjoy the thoughts#travesty I haven't posted about this a lot yet considering my url#also just edited out like 4 typos whoops. sleeby
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