#well that and the fact that she is so bad at them all

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[emptymanuscript]

I admit I'm on the fence about AI in general... well, on the I have never used it and am not sure if I ever should but I've got the deep fear of missing out side.

But in the context of learning, it strikes me as falling in the same landscape as a calculator or Excel. I use a calculator or (actually more commonly) Excel to do any math because I'm not particularly good at math and never really have been.

BUT

When I was growing up, you did NOT get to use a calculator until you knew how to calculate. This was not a thing to make us suffer or just make life more difficult.

I also had stupid tests where I had to solve 100 math problems in 3 minutes, and I'm not about to argue that was good for me, helped me, or should be inflicted on subsequent generations.

I had to learn how to calculate BECAUSE of the above. If YOU don't know how to calculate, then it is impossible to tell if the calculator gave you the correct answer or not.

Back when I used to post to r/excel, I used to get flack for not showing the "EFFICIENT" way to solve problems but instead would show things step by step. But this is the same thing. If you do things in a big complicated group, you either get the right answer or the wrong answer. If you do things step by step you can CHECK your answer step by step and see if they make sense.

Do I need to know how to do 87^2 in my head in 30 seconds or less? No. I really don't. But I do need to know what is going on and why it is happening.

87^2 = 7,569 is great for a calculator to do. The calculator absolutely can do it faster than most people can. But if I just plug in 87^2 and get 689, how do I verify it? How do I check? Can I even realize, hmmm, that doesn't look quite right. Are my functions all right?

Knowing what is going on is the insurance for that. I can probably catch that, oh, I was trying to use a clever trick and forgot some steps.

The answer isn't all that is important.

And yes, it absolutely can make you dumber. Like I got to hear a discussion between two lecturers I really liked. And one just went off on a tangent and the other was clearly wondering why the hell she was there, this isn't science. BUT because I knew the details of how they were both dealing with the basic problem they were talking about - current science not being able to successfully predict certain phenomenon without numbers to fudge the situation that represent things that can't be proven independently of the need to fudge the numbers - I was able to follow the miscommunication while they, themselves, could not. His tangent made perfect sense in the context of his field of interest and made zero sense in hers. And if all you have the answers with no information of how you got to them, there's zero way to connect "I think the Sun might be conscious" and "I think half of the standard model is based on incorrect assumptions." They were in fact talking about the same things and differing solutions but there's no way to align that without talking about the assumptions, which needs to be laid out in order to UNDERSTAND the answer.

And struggling with my FOMO on writing, there's the basic truth that the reason I fear like I'm missing out is in part because I AM an expert. I have a graduate degree in TEACHING creative writing. I know my shit. So if I ask ChatGPT or whatever to spit out a scene for me, I not only can tell if it is good or bad, I can explain WHY it is good or bad and what needs to be done to improve it. I have zero fear of amateurs asking ChatGPT to spit out a novel for them and getting a novel of quality that I will be competing with. I am scared of people with enough knowledge of how writing works and knowledge of how ChatGPT creating the equivalent situation of me doing long division on paper while they're plugging the equations into a calculator.

A calculator, used as a tool, by someone who understands what they're doing, can do calculations faster and with less errors than someone who also understands what they're doing but isn't using a calculator. But it's not the difference of one being able to do it and another not. It's a difference of speed and accuracy.

It's an entirely different set up when it's someone who understands what they're doing versus someone who doesn't. You can give someone who doesn't know what they're doing all the tools in the world and it will still take them longer and produce an inferior product because they can't understand what they're doing.

And that's the basic problem with using ChatGPT for education. Yes, it can give you an answer. But because you don't know how, you simply have to trust that it is the correct answer. With no way to double check, no way to gauge, and no way to adjust the workflow to better suit your needs.

It absolutely is shooting themselves in the foot. Because school is the point where access to help with process and WHY things work the way to do is easiest to get. It does simply get harder to find the farther away from educational opportunities you get. And when you need it to work isn't the best time to be trying to figure out what you're really doing instead of already having that education and skill under your belt.

It's also relying on the fatal assumption that tomorrow is going to look like yesterday. My earliest datable memory is June 1st 1982. The world is so profoundly different in February 13th 2025, that I am very comfortable promising you that the idea that you can depend on the world looking the same for your entire life WILL get you into trouble because that's simply not the way the world works. Certainly not now. The assumption that it is safe to use ChatGPT now because you will always be able to use ChatGPT is a set up for failure. Will there always be tools? Yes. Will you know how to get future tools to work the same way as ChatGPT? Probably not. I grew up using Dos and then Window's machines. These days, the programs are so different, I find it easier to use a Mac instead of learning the new way that Windows does things.

If you rely on a particular tool solving a problem for you in a way you don't understand beyond that tool giving you the answer, you will be relearning the tool every large iteration. And eventually it will be different enough that it will set you back. That you will essentially be starting from nearly scratch. And then what? If you don't know what kind of answer you should get, how are you going to know if you're using that new tool correctly because some engineer decided that it is more efficient to move in a different direction?

Even novels have changed over the course of my life. Every book I've read that was published in the last 15 years breaks fundamental rules I was taught back in the early 90's. The conventions that I would have insisted that ChatGPT follow have changed. But if I didn't know WHY those conventions existed how would I even know? How would I adjust? Why would it even occur to me that I needed to adjust? ChatGPT sure doesn't know.

That's probably fine if it's just something you're doing for fun.

But if it is your job? Getting things wrong can be the difference between keeping that job and going hungry. It is not a good idea to be utterly dependent on your tools. Tools are to make what you're doing easier, not to do the task for you all together.

Yeah, just don't. The grades are not as important as what you will be able to do (or not be able to do) later in life. And sometimes that later can be a LOT sooner than you anticipate. I watched a LOT of people wash out or nearly wash out of college because they didn't know the whys and hows of what they were doing academically. I saw straight A students flunk out because they just learned the cheat or because their schools were crap and only taught one way to do things or taught nothing at all and just let the cards fall. I had a good friend who came in with a 4.2 GPA and nearly flunk out because she wasn't taught basic skills I had gotten in middle school.

Which was intentional.

Because she was black and poor and I wasn't.

Her schooling was designed to fail her because the best way to make sure someone as smart as her STAYED black and poor was to let her fly without ever teaching her the skills to do better when she needed to. And she was damned smart. And she worked damned hard. And she pulled through and got a master's before I did. But she was in the extreme minority and had a lot of help and still slid through by the skin of her teeth. Most people in her position crashed and burned and ended up WORSE off than they started. Which is great for the powers that be because it makes them a demonstration of why you shouldn't even try. It shows that society is stacked against you. Because it is. Because it is designed to fail.

Understand that ChatGPT is the same set up. It will make things easier. For now. It will give you the answers. It will work. Until it hits the level it can't anymore. And that WILL happen. It is inevitable. And then you have no supports and you ARE going to crash and burn.

There is a reason that ChatGPT is cheap and being forced on everyone. It is controlled by the people who are being served by the current societal structure.

Are you being served? Are you sure? Because if there is ANYTHING about you they can benefit by crushing, washing you out, setting you out to sacrifice, they're going to do it. Anything that is free in our society is a tool to make YOU the product. And they're damn good at doing it. So think long and hard about using that tool when they have so much history and investment in making you crap out for their benefit. Don't rely on them to save you.

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[bapeach]

Valentine's Day

Anyone else suck at writing summaries for their stories? Anyways, happy belated Valentine's! I hadn't planned on writing a Valentine's related story, but here we are. Hope you all enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 4.8k+ Warnings: a bit clinché, swearing, long-distance Summary: Valentine's Day isn't so bad when you get to call with your long-distance best friend, except things don't really go the way you planned. You're not mad about it, though. ------------

Valentine's Day. A day loved by many and hated by even more. 

You belonged in the latter category. Why did couples need an extra day to celebrate their relationship? Why would you require an extra day to be nice to your partner when you should do that any other day as well? The only thing this holiday does is make single people feel bad. You’re not bitter about it or anything, it’s just a fact, okay fine, you’re a little salty.

Today is another Valentine that you’re spending single, but this time at least you have plans! While most of your friends were going to be off on dates, you were going to be calling your long-distance best friend and making fun of the whole holiday. To say you were excited to talk to the girl was an understatement.

Being a student-athlete wasn’t easy, Paige had complained about her busy schedule enough for you to know. Not that she had to, you could tell how exhausted she was whenever she found a bit of time to call you between school, homework, and basketball. It saddened you to know the blonde was wearing herself out completely to be the perfect student while also making sure she’s the best basketball player she can be. She barely ever has time to relax, and you’re scared she’s going to give herself a burn-out.

You were glad Paige found time today to hang out with you. You’ve missed her more than you thought you could ever miss anyone, not having heard her voice in weeks and only having gotten short messages to let you know she’s still alive. 

“Everyone is gonna be out and about on friday after practice so I’ll have the dorm to myself, FaceTime at 10:30?” Her message had read last Sunday, and you’d immediately agreed. While you knew the Valentine’s Day hangout was just a friendly hangout between best friends, you liked pretending it would be a date. 

When you met Paige, you never thought you’d ever fall for her so deeply, let alone be such good friends with her. But here you were, 6 years later, with the biggest crush on her.

When your mom sent you to a random month-long summer camp when you were 16, you’d protested with your whole being. You’d much rather stay home, bundled up on the couch all summer, re-reading your favorite book series, not going to a random camp out in the wild. “You’ll learn so much stuff! And you’ll make friends for life!” She’d said, making you roll your eyes. You didn’t believe a word she’d said, knowing that even if you managed to make friends, you’d only talk to them for that summer and maybe a month after.

You didn’t meet Paige until a week into camp. Her cabin was nowhere near yours, and so you weren’t in the same activity groups as her. One of your roommates had met her one night when she couldn’t sleep and went on a walk. She said you two would get along well, but the more she talked about the blonde, the less likely it seemed to you.

While you were shy, loved staying in, let people walk all over you, and were a bit of a teacher’s pet, 16-year-old Paige was the complete opposite. She was outgoing and friendly, and she loved teasing people even when she didn’t know them. She preferred the outdoors, getting restless when she had to stay in and couldn’t play her sports. She loved breaking the rules and always seemed to get away with it too, her charisma being able to charm all the camp leaders.

When your cabinmate had called her over during dinner, you were incredibly intimidated by the taller girl. She towered over you with a big grin, her blue eyes wide and full of mischief. She was loud and immediately set her eyes on you when she noticed your quietness. When your friends had joked about how shy you were, she’d only grinned wider, saying she was going to get you to come out of your shell.

She managed to win you over a lot faster than you dared to admit. After that dinner, she was always able to spot you in the crowd, coming over to tease you or introduce you to more people. Within a week, you two were glued at the hip. She managed to do what she said she would, making you a little less afraid to speak your mind, while you were able to bring a calm to her that no one knew existed.

You swore saying goodbye to her at the end of camp was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You were quite dramatic at times. Sadly, you’d been right about the not staying friends thing. You two sent each other two letters once camp was over and called five times before life got too busy with school, extracurriculars, and new friends. After that, you didn’t talk for two years.

The next time you saw her again, you thought you were dreaming. You were touring different universities and had just finished the UConn one. Paige had managed to get even taller, her muscles were more defined, and she’d finally found her style. You thought you were mistaken at first, but then her bright eyes found yours, and a wide smile made its way onto her face. She excused herself from the conversation she was in and jogged over to you, not letting you say more than a hi before pulling you into a hug. You let yourself fall into the comfortable, familiar feeling, sinking into her as you hug her back.

This time, when you two parted and said you’d stay in touch, you actually did. Sadly, you didn’t end up going to UConn, instead choosing a university over two hours away from the blonde. Keeping in contact was easier now that you were older and more mature. You called each other multiple times a month, texting almost daily, and even met up IRL whenever you could. You’d attended quite a few of her games, and she even surprised you on your birthday last year.

That birthday is your favorite one so far. Paige had surprised you with flowers and a book you’d been wanting for ages. She spoiled you like crazy that day, even staying the night at your dorm before having to go back to UConn. The day after was the day you realized you were head over heels for her. You became aware of the fact that the butterflies you felt in your stomach weren’t just from being excited at seeing your best friend, they were actually because you had a crush on her.

You never told her about your feelings, however. You figured she only saw you as a friend and knew that there were hundreds of girls throwing themselves at her feet, so why would she choose someone who didn’t even live in the same state as her? 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as you readjust yourself on your bed. Seeing it’s already 10:28, you open your camera to make sure you look okay. Patting down the flyaway hairs, you smile at your reflection. Closing the app, you grab your water bottle to take a sip and calm your growing nerves.

Knowing you’ll be even more nervous if you keep staring at the seconds tick by, you open TikTok and scroll on your FYP to pass the time. You quickly realize that wasn’t the best idea, seeing as there are only edits of Paige on your screen. Your face becomes a bright red as you watch the videos and save them all. You close the app after seeing an edit that makes you feel certain things, fanning your face as you try to get rid of your blush. 

When you look at the time again, you shake your head in amusement. 10:35. In the years that you’ve known the blonde, there haven’t been many instances in which the girl has been on time. Usually, it bothers you to no end when someone is late. It makes you feel as though they don’t respect you enough to be on time. With the blonde, it’s different, however. 

It’s cute to see her all flustered, apologizing again and again for her tardiness. It makes you laugh when she pouts at you, complaining about how her laptop had to do another update, how her alarm didn’t go off, or how Geno always has it out for her during the practices before a call. You grin when she leaves out the part where she was once again being a menace at practice, teasing her about it after Nika texts you to let you know Paige will be late and why.

You send her a quick text, asking if she managed to piss off Geno again, before checking to see if the Croatian had texted you anything. After another 5 minutes pass, you frown a little, slightly worried about the blonde. When your phone buzzes, you sit up straighter, fluffing up your hair a bit as you prepare to start the call. Grabbing your phone, you expect a “Sorry I’m late! You ready?” message, but you deflate instead.

“Hey, sorry I can’t call 2day, feeling exhausted, rain check?” It reads.

Of course, this isn’t the first time Paige has had to cancel on you. You understood that her busy schedule left her incredibly exhausted, and you knew she hated herself every time she had to cancel. Usually she pushed through, calling you anyway and falling asleep within 10 minutes of the call. She’d apologize profusely, a big frown on her face as her eyes turn a murky blue in sadness. You always told her you didn’t mind, you actually found it cute how her tired eyes would slowly blink at you before finally closing. 

The fact that she actually canceled this time meant she didn’t feel good at all, so you let her know it was okay and that you’d talk soon. Once you wish her sweet dreams as she goes to take a nap, you close your laptop with more force than necessary. 

While you typically wouldn’t mind all that much, you did this time. You missed her like crazy, you hadn’t had the easiest week, all your friends were out having fun, and to top it all off, you were about to have your period, making you even crankier than usual. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to blink away your tears. You press your palms to your eyes as you shake your head. Slapping your cheeks softly, you try to snap out of it. “Don’t be such a little baby,” you think to yourself.

You get up and stretch before pausing in the middle of the room. You look around a little lost, unsure of what to do now that your plans fell through. You bite your lip as you think about the tub of ice cream you left in your freezer for when you had a bad day. You pout as you realize you’ll spend yet another Valentine’s Day watching a cheesy movie that’ll make you cry into your ice cream.

Right as you’re about to open the freezer, you hear a knock at the door. You throw your head back, holding in a groan as you debate pretending no one is home. You knew it was most likely your roommate, who knew you were going to be home, having forgotten her keys again, so you make your way over to the door. 

You take a quick peek into the mirror to check if your eyes look red from your mini breakdown, silently cursing when they do. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you open the door, ready to tell your roommate to not mention it.

You freeze as your jaw drops open. Paige is standing in the hallway, holding a bouquet of red roses and a big teddy bear, a wide smile carved on her face. “Surprise,” she says, her voice soft as she takes you in. You cover your mouth with your hand as tears well up in your eyes again. “Damn these hormones,” you think, blinking to make them go away.

Seeing your watery eyes, the blonde’s smile softens as she mutters a “C’mere.” You fall into her open arms, squeezing her tightly as you nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck. Paige leans her head against yours, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. She slowly shuffles you backward into your dorm, using her foot to close the door behind her.

Once you realize the way you’re gripping onto her, you let her go, heat creeping up your face. You feel a bit embarrassed, but the feeling gets taken over by the happiness of finally being near the blonde again. “What’re you doing here?” You breathe out as you look at her in childlike wonder. “Wanted to spend Valentine’s with my favorite girl,” she replies, shoving the flowers and bear towards you. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around as you take the gifts with a wide smile, your cheeks bright red at the nickname.

You quickly put the flowers in a vase with some water before setting the teddy bear down on the couch. When you turn back towards Paige, you see her already staring at you with a soft look in her eyes. You skip back over to her, flinging yourself back into her arms, making her chuckle. “Thank you,” you mutter against her shirt, fondness seeping through in your voice.

You pull back slightly with a loving smile, looking up at her but not leaving her arms. She moves one hand away from your back, bringing it towards your face as she rubs your cheek. “Anything for you,” she mumbles as she takes in your face like she’s trying to memorize every bit of it. You can feel your face heat up, but you can’t look away. Your heart beats faster as you admire her, waiting to see what’s on her mind as you see different emotions swim around in her eyes. 

Softly clearing her throat, she steps back nervously as she takes an envelope out of her pocket. She shifts her weight from foot to foot as she looks down at the envelope, her throat bobbing as she swallows harshly. “I, uh,” she starts, biting her lip before looking up at you with an anxious yet hopeful look. “This is for you,” she says, handing you the envelope. You raise an eyebrow at her as you ask, “What’s this?”

“Jus open it,” she says, fidgeting with her sleeve. You open the envelope tentatively, a little nervous at how anxious the usually confident girl is. Folding open the pink letter, you scan the page, smelling her perfume as if she sprayed it on the paper. You smile in adoration as you see the usual scribbly handwriting, this time a little less messy. Taking a quick glance at the girl, you see her rub her neck, nodding at you to read it. Your heart skips a beat as you read the words. 

It’s… It’s a love confession. 

You grip the paper a little tighter as you read about how Paige has had a crush on you for the past two years and how much you mean to her. Your eyes stay glued to the page until you reach the end. “Will you be my valentine?” The last sentence reads.

You look up at her in shock, excitement bubbling in your chest. The athlete is still looking at you, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?” You whisper, not wanting to break the intimate atmosphere. She nods her head as she bites her lip shyly. A broad smile spreads across your face as you nod enthusiastically. “Yes!” You say, your voice a bit higher as you’re unable to contain your joy.

“Yeah?” Paige grins, her confident, cheerful self showing again. She grabs you again, lifting you up as she twirls you around. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips at the giddiness you’re feeling. “Okay, uhh, I’ve made dinner plans for tonight, but I was thinking we could just chill here for a bit and then go get lunch in that cute little café we went to last time I was here!” The blue-eyed girl beams.

You’re already nodding your head before she finishes her sentence, knowing you’d do anything with the girl. Seeing as you still have some time before you need to start getting ready, you drag the basketball player to your couch. You let her sit down first before settling down next to her and swinging your legs over her lap. You’d been in this position plenty of times before, but those times never felt as intimate as this time.

Your heart thrums in your chest as Paige immediately rests her hands on your legs, rubbing them softly as she relaxes into her seat. You hold your new teddy bear against your chest as you watch the blonde fondly. Catching you staring, she sends you a smirk, making you look down with a chuckle.

“So, how’d you manage to get coach to let you skip practice?” You ask, your head tilted in question. “Oh, that was easy, he loves me, so he said he’d let me skip for once,” she replies smoothly. You huff out a laugh as she says that, mischief clear in her eyes. “You’re such a liar,” you grin back. “Okay, okay, maybe that’s not exactly how it went,” she rolls her eyes playfully. You look at her triumphantly as she gives your leg a little squeeze, more amused than annoyed that you caught her. “He said I could skip, but that my next practice is gonna be extra hard.” 

You look at her in amusement but also slight worry. “You didn’t have to do this, you know? I would’ve been happy with just a phone call. I don’t want you to work yourself to the point of passing out,” you reply, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. She shakes her head, bringing one hand to your face to smooth out your frown. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Besides, I think I would’ve gone insane if I didn’t see you soon,” she says, her voice more vulnerable than you’re used to.

Your lips curve back into a smile as she continues. “And stop worrying about me so much, I’m okay. If things get too much, I’ll let you know, I promise.” She sticks out her pinky finger, grinning at you as you interlace yours with hers.

You two keep talking until it’s time to get ready for lunch. Seeing as Paige is already dressed, you leave her on your couch as you walk up to your closet to pick a nice outfit before running to the bathroom to put yourself together. Once you’re satisfied, you return to the couch, blushing as you see the blonde check you out. You raise your eyebrow and send her a teasing grin, letting her know you caught her. She simply sends you a smirk back as she gets up.

There’s not a moment of silence on the way to the café as you two talk about the latest things in your lives. You talk about classes, basketball, family, friends, and the weird dreams you’ve had. The conversation continues to flow during lunch and into the afternoon as you walk around the city with Paige. A smile is permanently etched into your face as you stroll around with your hand in the blonde’s. While her hand is a bit rough from playing so much basketball, it’s still very soft. She rubs her thumb across your knuckles as she animatedly talks about the shenanigans she’s been up to with the team.

When you stop for ice cream, you order your favorite flavor before noticing Paige taking another flavor you love. It confuses you a little, knowing she doesn’t really like it, but you don’t really pay any mind to it as you continue rambling about what your professor did last class. When you sit down, you enjoy your ice cream as you listen to the girl in front of you. She takes small bites in between sentences, making her still have half of it left when you’re done with yours. As she talks, she starts feeding you some of her cup, making you smile at how cheesy you two are being. You don’t mind, though, this is exactly what you’d dreamed of.

When you notice the blonde isn’t eating her ice cream anymore, only feeding you, you go to protest. You don’t get the chance to, however, as the girl knew what you were up to. She quickly shoves another spoonful into your mouth when you open it to speak, rolling your eyes playfully. She grins as she shrugs a little.

Once you two are done, you walk back towards your dorm, silently thanking your roommate for having her own plans and not being home. Once inside, you guide the blonde to your bed, plopping down as you put on a random show for background sounds. You spend hours talking about everything and nothing, laughing harder than you have in months. 

“So, this dinner, where are we going?” You ask Paige as you crane your neck up from where you’re lying against her. She pretends to lock her mouth and throw away the key, making you roll your eyes. “You’re so unhelpful, y’know that?” She laughs, knowing it’s true. “Can you at least tell me what the vibe is? Do I need to dress fancy?” You question as you get up and walk over to your closet. You rifle through your options as the athlete speaks. “Semi-formal, I guess,” she shrugs, getting up herself. “Where are you going?” You ask as she starts walking towards the door. 

“Gonna grab my bag from my car, I’m not going to dinner in this outfit,” she replies, making you nod in understanding. Once she’s gone, you pause for a moment, pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming. When you know for sure you’re not, you let out an excited squeal before calming yourself down and getting ready. Once you’re dressed, you sit down in front of your mirror to apply some light make-up.

You hear Paige walk back in, having borrowed your keys, as you’re applying mascara. Once you’re done, you look at her through the mirror and send her a bashful smile. She doesn’t smile back, too enthralled by your beauty. You shake your head as you giggle, grabbing your lip gloss. You lean in a bit closer to the mirror, applying a thin layer of gloss to make your lips shine. You glance over at Paige, seeing her eye the applicator as you glide it across your lips. She swallows harshly when you make eye contact, looking away sheepishly as she walks over to get ready in the bathroom. 

You scroll through Instagram as you wait for the blonde, liking the Valentine’s Day posts from your friends. When you hear the bathroom door open, you glance up, your throat going dry. Paige always looked gorgeous, but right now, you think she’s never looked better. She smiles softly at you as you take her in. She doesn’t tease you about the way you’re basically drooling over her, knowing she’s just as enamored.

“You look beautiful,” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a soft squeeze. “Says you,” you grin with rosy cheeks. Her eyes twinkle with happiness as she leads you to the door. “Oh, one sec!” You mutter, running back towards your dresser to grab something. You quickly put the tiny box in your bag before walking back over to Paige. “Alright, I’m ready,” you say, rocking back and forth in excitement.

You walk towards the taller girl’s car in comfortable silence, your hand in hers, fingers interlinked. You let her open the passenger door for you, chuckling at her as she gives you a bow. “M’lady,” she tries to say seriously, but she can’t stop the smile growing on her face. “You’re such a dork,” you reply as you get in, hoping she doesn’t notice the bright color of your cheeks.

Once you two are on the road, Paige takes one hand off of the steering wheel, putting her arm on the center console. You look at it for a moment before grabbing her hand and interlacing your fingers once more. You take a peek at the blonde to see her reaction and feel your stomach flutter when you see her sporting a tiny, content smile.

Once you get to the restaurant, you look around in awe. It was beautiful. You still can’t believe that all of this is real. That Paige Bueckers, your best friend, is taking you out on a date and treating you like a queen. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling all day. 

You two share a bottle of wine as you enjoy your food, letting one another taste each other’s dishes, grinning when you find the other’s food better. You giggle as you switch your plates around, not paying any mind to the looks you’re receiving. After finishing your meal, you order dessert, sharing the sweet treat, feeling pretty full from dinner. 

Once you’re done, Paige pulls out a wrapped box with a tiny ribbon bow. For a moment you’re confused where it came from, but you quickly dismiss your confusion. “Paige, you didn’t have to get me anything! You’ve already paid for everything today,” you whine, feeling bad about how much the girl is spending on you. “Oh hush,” she says, “I love spoiling my girl.” “Your girl, huh?” You tease with a grin. She rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “Open itttt,” she says impatiently.

You giggle as you open it, letting out a gasp as you see the bracelet inside. “Paige…” you breathe out, “this is beautiful.” “Yeah? You like it?” She asks, hoping you’re speaking the truth. You nod eagerly, flashing her a toothy smile as you brush your thumb over the P charm. “I was scared it would be too possessive, giving you something with my initial on it for our first date,” she admits, scratching her temple. “I love it, P,” you say, letting her help you put it on.

You grab your bag, pulling out your own gift box. “You didn’t,” Paige grins as you hand it to her. “I did,” you grin back. “How? You didn’t even know I was coming today,” she asks, giving you a curious look. “I got this a while back and was just waiting for the perfect moment to give it to you,” you say, your heart drumming in your ears as you nervously wait for her reaction. Her face lights up at the sight of the new chain you’d gotten her. She lifts it out of the box, letting it shine in the dim restaurant lights.

She taps the tiny basketball pendant as it swings on the chain. The blonde sends you a radiant smile, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you,” she says, adoration clear in her voice. You raise one finger, making her pause. You rummage in your bag, grabbing a tiny plastic bag, before handing it to her with a smirk. She holds it close, laughing as she realizes what it is. Opening the bag, she grabs the tiny charm, twirling it between her fingers. “I see we had the same idea,” she smiles, her cheeks becoming a soft pink at the thought of wearing your initial on her neck. 

You help her put it on before waving over the waiter for the bill. You begrudgingly let Paige pay, knowing you’d never win that fight against her. You hold her hand as you walk towards her car, squeezing it softly. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst with joy and adoration. Once you reach the car, you look at the taller girl as she pauses. 

Her eyes flit over your face as she softly grabs your hips. She steps closer, gently pushing you against the car. She leans in closer, her eyes looking into yours with a questioning look. Your heart skips a beat as you nod lightly. The blue-eyed girl leans even closer, her lips hovering over yours for a moment to give you an extra second to change your mind. When you don’t, she presses her lips against yours in a slow but deep kiss. You grab her face, trying to pull her even closer as you close your eyes. After a minute, you pull away slightly to catch your breath. You move your hands towards her neck as you play with her baby hairs. The smile she sends you makes you weak in the knees, making you silently thank God that you’re leaning against the car. 

“Be mine?” Paige breathes, her question sounding almost like a statement. You don’t need to think twice as you nod, pulling her into another kiss.

You know it won’t be easy, being in a relationship while you’re miles apart, but you know that it’s all worth it when you get to call this amazing girl yours.

[evilminji]

Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

[brainfuzz]

Beekeeper here.

Yes, I do crush queen cells sometimes. There's no egg/larva/queen in them and crushing the cell helps prevent swarming. When I open the hive and see queen cells - assuming everything else is fine with the bees - it can indicate they're running out of room and want to split. The solution to that is to give them more space. If they're not out of space, I won't crush the cell because they may know something I don't; the queen is getting old, she's a bad layer (you can check for this) or they just don't like her.

You can also squish a queen if the bees are aggressive, she's not laying well or other reasons. I haven't done this because you have to make sure there's a way for the bees to raise a replacement, and none of my hives have had issues that would be solved by re-queening.

Spare queens are often killed by the hive itself. They'll raise a couple of queens and the first one that comes back mated wins. You can only have one queen in a hive. Professional beekeepers will sometimes raise the spares and sell them to other beekeepers to requeen a queenless hive.

Drones always die during mating. That is literally their only purpose in life, is to find a fuck a queen. Much like when a drone stings you, their penis and associated organs come out when they ejaculate, killing them.

"Bee pheromones" are used when trying to catch a swarm. You can put lemon grass oil in a swarm box, and the bees will tend to go there instead of other places. Free bees!

Commercial beekeepers who raise bees and queens for sale, will try to control the type of bee their queen mates with. I live in the northeast and have cold harsh winters. I do not want bees that were bred for Florida. The bee supplier I use is very careful to breed their bees with bees from my area so I have winter hardy bees.

And no beekeeper, commercial or otherwise, will ever cull a healthy hive. The only time to kill an entire hive is if the hive is infect with American Foulbrood, which is very contagious and has no cure. If you get AFB in your hive, you not only cull the hive, you dig a pit, put the entire hive boxes in it, and light that shit on fire. You lose a lot of equipment and as a result, beekeepers are very much on top of any outbreaks.

The "culling during the winter" thing may simply be a misunderstanding because beekeeping has an extremely high attrition rate. Something like 60% of your hive will not make it through the winter. This means you have to buy new bees in the spring, and generally a hive's first year is spent getting established, and you don't get a lot, if any, honey from that hive. I've ordered new bees for the spring assuming that not all of my hives will survive the winter. If they do, then great, I get to expand. If they don't, well I have new bees to try again. Each starter hive, or nucleus hive, costs me $235. If you intentionally kill your bees and you're trying to make money off them, you'll be operating in the red. Even if you take the honey that was supposed to feed the bees over winter, it won't be enough to cover that cost year after year.

So yeah, that's all bullshit. Go take an intro to beekeeping class if you want to know the facts. Or just read a current book maybe.

Wild that folks keep saying beekeepers abuse bees as if bees are not both venomous flying animals and fully unionized

[chaifootsteps]

Something about helluvas poor depiction of a sexually abusive relationship is so much more malicious and evil than hazbin. Because it cowers away from the fact it is one, and profits off of romanticising it. I think stoliz and angelval need to be held in the same conversation.

Every day rich powerful men sexually abuse and rape victims because money is leverage. These abusers are massively defended by the public especially if they are celebrity, “charismatic” funny, good at singing or acting. No matter what evil these abusers do, a parade of incels and pick me women with bleeding hearts (for the wrong person) will say

but she couldn’t have been sexually abused victimised by him! Look at the glamorous lifestyle! The jewellery, gifts, and fancy vacations! She’s just a gold digging thieving whore who is ashamed of her body count and wants attention.

Never mind the fact….many sex trafficking victims with high ranking famous abusers get gifts and fancy trips too. To keep the abuse secret. They have a lot on the line if they even dared say no or try to back out. All that money and “””glamour””” is blackmail material. Andrew Tate is an expert of this behaviour.

So what does vivziepop do with stolblitz?

She paints the victim of what is clearly sexual abuse as a hysteric imagining things, a bigot, a gold digger, someone with a “shameful”amount of sexual history, who is sexually excited at all times. All to discredit his validity as a victim. Never mind the fact sex workers (which btw, blitz isn’t) receive little sympathy and aren’t believed in their stories because “well sex workers are always down for anything right?” Or really…any rape victim guilty of the crime of not being a virgin beforehand are treated this way. When I See Him is repulsive because of this. One sensitive man questions if he’s a rapist, and the other is just horny, to make the answer to the audience this: no. He can’t be a rape victim. Look: He wants it.

And Viv uses the generosity argument. What about the outings they had, the supportive gifts “you can’t just ignore all that” Anyone with fundamentals understanding of abuse knows that them bringing up ‘the good times’ does not make the abuse invalid. You aren’t ignoring his kind moments by standing up for yourself regarding the bad. Not to mention, guilt at being unable to repay a rich “generous” person, is a core part financial coercion.

This relationship has layers upon layers of abuse tactics, slut shaming, rape apologia and victim blaming rhetoric. Viv has done a level of damage to SA victims, the sympathy for them and understanding in the public, that should be studied.

Couldn't have said it better. Comical moustache twirling monsters like Valentino are relatively rare in real life, but wealthy, abusive, guilt tripping guys like Stolas -- and stories of the people they prey on -- are everywhere. It's dangerous, disgusting, and wrong, and I genuinely fear the fandom's insistence that "it was sex work" and that sex workers seemingly can't say no is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how much damage Viv has done.

[jilymicrofics]

Our amazing writers have come together to sow a little extra love this Valentine's Day. Here to make everyone's heart blossom with joy at the astounding 19 fics!

Mia and Monty's Potion Shop by @tedwardremus for eclipsedechoesofmywords

After the death of his parents, James Potter takes over ownership of the family potion shop. He has to pass the Ministry's mandatory inspection to ensure he his following all safety regulations. Unfortunately for him, the Ministry inspector is his old Hogwarts rival and crush - Lily Evans.

Memories by @siriuslychessi for juniperpyre

James wants to show Lily a very special place in the castle but Lily is not patient enough to get surprised.

Neither Of Them by @eclipsedechoesofmywords for Constanzin

his wife by @juniperpyre for chiaraforfun

James interrupts an Order meeting to argue that Lily shouldn't be sent into the field under any circumstances. Lily is pissed, but kind of turned on. or Lily: you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up James: you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid

Castles Made of Sand by @practicecourts for Annabtg

Every single member of the noble and most ancient house of Black has to show up, however unwilling he or she might be, to any Black family event. It's the cursed tapestry. Sirius Black has tried pretty much everything he can think of to get himself off of the blasted thing, nothing so far has worked, until he meets an old friend from school. Lily Evans is absolutely sure she'll manage to turn the prodigal son and heir of the Blacks into a persona non grata, within three dates. Everything goes about as well as you'd expect.

Second Time's The Charm by @tinyluminaryzombie for @abihastastybeans

James kisses Lily and then dashes, leaving her to devise a plan. The goal? To be James's girlfriend by the end of the night.

Like I lived my whole life before the first light by @annabtg for Annasghost

The spark between them flares into life on the first day and never goes out. Lily thinks nothing of it at first — it’s just there, and he’s just a boy — but over the years, as she grows up and learns of life, there are some moments where it shines brighter. A heavenly provision, one might say; a little ray of light to brighten the cold, damp February mornings. Or: Five Valentine stories where James Potter came first in Lily Evans's heart and the one time he didn't.

Second Chances by @annasghosts for Emmathecasualauthor

Headquarters, 9 pm. For James Potter, it’s another Order meeting. For Lily Evans, it’s the crack that threatens to tear her carefully constructed world apart and force her to face the past she fled five years ago.

Something Big by @chiaraforfun for jjameslily

James wants to do a snowball fight

In Love, With Extra Credit by @livelaughlovetoread for Eastwindmlk

He's annoying. He's a nerd. He's handsome. And, He's hers. A Seventh-year Fluffy Sexy Jily

The Space Between by @jjameslily for Nena-96

Trapped at the Three Broomsticks during a snowstorm, James never expected that a night spent with a certain sharp-tongued rival would stir up feelings he hadn’t realized were there.

I Bet You Think About Me by @wearingaberetinparis for neverenoughmarauders

“Do you think about it sometimes?” Her voice was soft, shy almost, and when he looked up in surprise he noticed that her face was pinker than it had been a moment before. “About -?” He trailed off. “Yeah,” she nodded. “I mean…” he started, feeling as if he might as well lay his soul bare if he were to admit to the fact that he had never stopped thinking about what had happened between them just over a year ago, “… do you?

a woman taken by the wind by @littlefoldedpaperstars for siriuslychessi

“What?” James asked, slightly offended that he was being kicked out. “What are you guys doing?” “Performing human sacrifices,” said Marlene, heavy on the sarcasm. “Drinking the blood of men,” said Lily, notably less sarcastic than Marlene. James didn't have a vampire fetish, but if that was what Lily was into, he would be cool with it. - Or: James is immediately enchanted when he meets Lily and her one-eyed cat. Lily thinks she'd be better off alone (not counting her four cats).

In the Cracks of Light by @emmathecasualauthor for wearingaberetinparis

He blinks several times, and Lily can tell he’s trying to work out what he’s seeing. Who he’s seeing. Then, whatever has been keeping him( from registering the sight in front of him falls, because he manages to speak. “Lily?” Her heart positively plummets. In which Lily Evans is a Muggleborn street thief, and her latest target is a man she hasn't seen since she was seventeen.

Hold My Hand by @neverenoughmarauders for practicecourts

Lily Evans has spent months convincing herself that keeping her distance is the best way to protect her and James' friendship. On September 1st, her resolve to keep away must come to an end. However, the summer has only served to have her heart ache more for James, which spells trouble.

(Un)Happy Accidents by @eastwindmlk for tedwardremus

James Potter wants to ask Lily Evans something important, but it seems like the universe is against him and he regales his misadventures to his friends.

Scene from a Marriage Proposal by @constancezin for tinyluminaryzombie

A Sunday Kind of Love by @formerlympp for littlefoldedpaperstars

Lily never would have imagined moving into a flat where three men already lived together and all she could hope for were relatively tidy, non-axe murderers, who would let her live in peace. But life had other plans for her, and it all started with a simple Sunday morning.

Date Night by @nena-96 for livelaughlovetoread

James meets Richard Evans before taking Lily out on a date, but it seems that Richard wants to make sure his daughter won't get into any sorts of mischief. As always chaos ensues. or "What in Merlins saggy balls is going on here?!" Lily shouted.

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You're not a god, technically. A god is one of them big ones, the extraterrestrials, see?

You, like everything else in the world, were born here; your beginning is not before time and outside the world. Not a god. You're a daimon. It's a common misconception.

Still, in the space of that misconception there's honest work.

You're not sure the council upstairs (if it's even a council anymore) pays much attention to most of mortalkind, really, otherwise there wouldn't have to be witches to do work scholars are jealous of, but doesn't someone have to?

Sometimes the ones that do enough of it become angels. Sometimes the ones that do something better than anyone else become... well, just what is Silence, actually? Is that still what he goes by? When he was Death All-Devouring he had a few more teeth, you think.

Anyway: when official channels fatfinger a prayer, you have to know, and it's just sort of the case, ethically speaking, that you're to do something about it. Even if only to keep up the illusion that the world-machine works. That's kind of a duty incumbent on all of you immortals, these days. Just until the big boss ... well, the big boss cannot be said to ever be doing or thinking or going to do or think anything, so you're not sure where that was going.

And that's why you're here at this wedding — because a hundred, two hundred years ago they realised the big kahuna might not be listening, deep down, somewhere, and so now you are the wight of the marriage bed. Some say the angel. They're not sure. You're not sure either; you have perhaps a dot more free will than angels tend to, but you find yourself doing a lot of angelic kinda work.

Is the Immanence here, like She's supposed to be? Doctrinally (you are a daimon, you don't really care about doctrine outside the mechanics of your own existence) She doesn't fuck with mixed marriages, but She also conveniently is present every time two men talk about lofty matters, yes, even if they're talking objectively heinous anti-sense about women and children and beasts. So, you know. It's kind of touch and go here. Is mixed marriage more bad than womanhatred? Very important scholars debate the issue even now. Six thousand years of debate have yielded the answer 'yeah idk probably'. You cannot perceive the Immanence. You wouldn't know.

You do, however, know the future, and in the next thousand years, thankfully, they will perfect the shaping arts and learn to make men into women, and maybe they'll all be women then, what the hell. It's an optimistic thought. The other immortals kind of snicker at you and tell you to go look forward at what they do with chymics, self-made new forms of life, in that future, and what they themselves go mad with pain and grief and loneliness and do, for which reason you kind of don't want to.

You might go and listen in on some of those last debates instead, except, again: wedding.

To your profound disappointment, this wedding expects to make you co-in-laws, sort of, with a small unfriendly god, one of the daimons that really believes in it, waves their essence around. This is... about to get really annoying.

You actually don't even dislike Sowulo. Everything you know about them boils down to the fact that they've been experimenting with themself after their mortal followers degendered them — that's the trouble with the overreliant ones, the essence moulds to the understanding of the souls they shepherd and then you end up in no end of annoying circumstances. This would be why personally you've never investigated what gender you're supposed to be. Less for your people to contradict that way. Maybe you predate gender, how's that for a thought exercise? (You don't; you were born in the middle of the Age of Chitin; they don't have to know you're something smaller and duller wearing an old god's pelt.)

And, well, it's just... they're a little weird? OK. They're a lottle weird. You are pretty sure they are, like, super mega ultra weird. The situation is like this: their people, their little guys, they used to be these peaceful cattle nomads. Then the Aeon of Sails and the Great Industrialisation, and the dire circumstances that led them into the ghettos, and so on — and somewhere in that transition, the travelling spirit of the warmth of the sun that was their constant companion came into conflict with the new State doctrine that the stars are unfeeling miasmas of incandescent plasma. (Is that doctrine? That's how you understand most things. You're not sure of the semantics.)

So now: degendered, deprived of influence, a cold light, not a warm one. Invoked, at best, at afterbirth burials, confirmations, weddings, cremations, premarital haircuttings, housewarmings, slaughters, and for the end of winter when it dies under their hand. They're annoying and dangerous and haggard and raw-voiced as a hungry buzzard because they are starving, because they have lost themself, because they don't remember what they used to be and they don't know what they want to be now.

Sometimes a ship launches from the harbour of this city, and you are there because you have one of your people to look after, and they look out at you from shore, forlorn, jealous, abandoned, so hungry. So hungry. Mourning something they half remember, something they are convinced you have. That's why they incite their sophonts to kill yours, maybe. You wouldn't know. You've never asked. You're busy doing your job, keeping those sophonts safe.

They envy you your vitality. They wish they knew what they were. They think you know what you are, and they want you to get off your inconceivably tall high horse.

You're not on a high horse. You just are, and you try to make sure your sophonts can just be, too. But Sowulo doesn't know that.

Sowulo knows that their people are small and broken and scattered, and that each wedding with any other people weakens them — weakens the people and weakens their god.

Sowulo hates you.

And, like, you don't really play favourites, all mortals are the same to you deep down, but you understand that there is a Teensy Weensy little problem, perhaps, with the favourite son of their most warlike clan's Great Chanter running away from home to elope with a witch-midwife from beyond the Pale. Not because she's yours, but that doesn't make it better. Her own huntedness and fear and old pain doesn't do anything for the situation either. Sowulo doesn't understand yet that suffering is a universal condition of settled life.

Your marriage priest, a jolly little roundish woman in veils against the interference of spirits with her work, pounds her cowhide drum and begins her chant. Sowulo's shakes his solar rattle, completely unaware that his god is seething in the rafters of the fane. Are you going to have to save his life, then, before the sun is up? This is going to be a very long, unnecessarily laborious, and probably also very interesting night.

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[fangdokja]

Not really a request, but just a thought to share with you! (If that’s alright?)

Imagine Yandere! Demon King having to resort to “granting” his darling immortality, having realized that her lifespan was impeccably fleeting compared to his and demonkind. And seeing how unruly, ferocious, and self-reliant she was throughout their entire time together (or more like her captivity), he went through the trouble of binding her to him in body and soul by turning her into a succubus.

With this, she would be forced to rely on him during “feeding hours”, leaving her utterly helpless as she refuses to “feed” on other people.

Not only would this bring her closer to him, but also the fact that she’s under his dominion now as a demoness.

— Random Anon

WARNING: Semi-formal rambling and formatting. Includes Library Recommendations (nsfw + sfw).

If you guys want Reader lore? (low-key surprised people asking for Reader lore in some series) Well... I already have it all prepared. It's coming next week. Not all of Reader lore yet, but enough to tell you that Reader is not as helpless against even the Yandere! Love Interests, as one might believe:

We have four new characters coming up. And these guys are part of the top tier powerhouses, even compared to Yandere! Demon King. Most likely stronger actually. Actually maybe the strongest four man lineup in the entire series. And personally, I like these guys best. Though, unsure if I'll give them more screentime than one chapter. There's reason for that, but we'll see.

I also have four more new characters alongside these guys, but I haven't finished writing for them as of the moment.

WHY IS THIS SERIES SO POPULAR. adnljdsddsgawfuishas. Is it really 'cause it's otome isekai???? or something else hahaha. I was literally just writing about myself 😭 I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE THIS INTO AN ACTUAL SERIES.

OK, now onto the ASK + Library Recommendations (sfw + nsfw).

Nice to meet you, Random Anon :)) I'm glad you're comfortable enough to speak with me about your thoughts. Don't worry, it's fine. I'm glad you're willing and open to share ideas or thought dumps.

Also, out of topic, but I like how you guys are picking "names" and not just emojis haha. Actually, for me, I prefer you guys picking actual names of your choosing. I don't want to constrain the name picking, so feel free to name yourselves anything, when asking anonymously. It'll also help me identify you better. Just make sure it aligns with the blog RULES and Tumblr guidelines.

Ok, this is a thought. But, even in dark humor content and especially in world building. Logic and reality is a must here. I heavily dislike making non-canon lore, it's basically me writing fanfiction on my own work. I can do it, but I heavily prefer canon works only. It's also in my RULES. I will always prefer transparency and honesty, so I will be honest in my answer here. I am aware what you gave is a thought dump and an imagine-scenario, so not necessarily canon. Just sharing thoughts. But, I will expand on the reality of who Reader is.

Reader doesn't just have basic intelligence, nor a dead inside personality when it comes to romance. Canonically speaking, Reader can in fact take on the love interests. So, why does Reader rely on wit, the romance system, and no-powers-mode?

Well, that will come in the next extension of the series. Yes, I'm officially making these into a Headcanons Series. This one:

Yandere! Otome Game

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Crown Prince, Archduke, Supreme Mage, Demon King, War Hero, Master Thief, Enemy Spy, Demon Assassin

Drabbles

How do you escape a yandere harem? Asking for a very distressed friend (me).

How to Turn ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ Into a Very Literal Situation.

"Romance is a garbage genre, but if I have to play, I might as well do it on easy mode."

The love interests were bad. The backup plans are worse.

One of them wants to marry you. The other wants to make sure he never does.

Headcanons 1 : How to Survive a Reverse Harem (You Don’t) (General)

I hate it here.

Why am I saying this? Because based on the timeline of the current story with Reader officially escaping and in hiding. It's practically an impossibility for any of the Yandere! Love Interests to try capturing and doing whatever they want with Reader. Yes, impossible.

And even if there was a slim chance of capture even before the escape. Let me tell you know.

No. It's impossible.

Why am I so sure? Well, you'll know why once the new characters come out.

In actuality, all my Reader characters have lore. I just don't give it away so freely, compared to yandere lore. Why? Well, I focus mostly on yandere content for one. The other is because all my Readers are meant to have enigmatic backgrounds. No, I did not just make this because I want you all to feel more in-depth self-insert or something.

The Reader characters have actual lore in fact, all of the characters I make do. I just don't say it outright, because spoilers obviously.

I wouldn't be a psychological horror-thriller author, if I gave things away so easily. I decided to give some crumbs because of the effort Random Anon put into this message. I want you to know, Random Anon, that I appreciate you having the courage to do this, being comfortable with me, and giving me a message of substance. So, thank you.

And, it's why I'm taking this seriously, even if it may disagree with yours or others' thoughts. These crumbs are canon information on the series and characters.

Ok, I rambled a lot. But, to clarify the following:

It's impossible for Yandere! Demon King to turn Reader into a demoness. Considering it's still very early into the series, and unlike my novellas, this is still a lighthearted dark humor series. As of the moment, there will be no permanent and explicit horror factors yet. Why? Characters are still being introduced. Did you really think I'd stop at eight? haha.

Anyways. Yes, later on, it can be changed. But not now.

The Veteran Readers and those who have read my novellas, should know how I write. Take a dip and see how I actually write my horror content. Like this one, newly uploaded as well. It's not even novella length, it's also a headcanons series, if that's what you're used to:

Yandere! Author

Headcanons 1 : Fate’s Final Draft (General)

He’s the hero in his own story… and you’re his latest toy.

🔞"You like happy endings? Too bad. I don’t write those."

I recommend reading Part 2, if you want to see how I write my actual horror content.

Anyways. I'm saying this now. If you honestly think I'll write vanilla yandere content, then I'm sorry, I don't. What I mean is that ALL the Yandere! Love Interests are still part of my yandere collection. Hence, they'll do way more than just controlled feeding and monitoring lifestyles. Especially the demon race, for example.

Or, rather, the stronger they are, the more dangerous they become.

These are the kind of yanderes I generally write: Dom + Top + Older + Sadistic + Red / Black Flag Yanderes

Nor do I hold back in writing horror content.

What you gave is basically the barebones part of yandere content. Trust me when I say, Yandere! Demon King is going to do a lot worse than just isolate and force feed you. In fact, I would even say, he would NOT turn Reader into a demoness. Why? Well, let's just say, he's not as kind and collected as he seems. And I'm not talking about him simply being an emotional mess.

Would Yandere! Demon King grant Reader immortality. No, he wouldn't. Not only is it illogical for him in his eyes, but he has better plans than simply turning Reader into a doll or servant.

Not to mention, yeah, I mentioned Yandere! Demon King can be emotionally unstable. But, I don't mean in simply losing his cool and patience; thus losing his sense of rationality, then acting reckless and stupid. Or losing himself in rage and emotional turmoil. It's something better.

Also, for non-human races. Here, to give you New Readers an idea on how I write them. Read the Sukuna part if you want to know:

Novella 1 : Dominate Me, Daddy. (Brat Tamer)

🔞Will you scream? Or will you beg? (Bakugo Katsuki, Yoichi Isagi, Ryōmen Sukuna, Rex Lapis, Sunday)

I know some of you New Readers came here for dark humor, and lighthearted comedy. But. Let me tell you now, once I write actual "true yandere" content. Well, it's not for the faint of heart.

I only made the dark humor content because I was mindblocked on horror content. It's basically idea generation to me, so I can exercise my brain for erotic horror.

The true yanderes I make are hard doms + top + older + unapologetic + sadistic + does not need darling's validation + will hurt the darling + may kill the darling + truly confident in themselves.

They do not care nor need the darling's permission, validation, feelings, etc. to take what they want. They're not weaklings like that. As individuals, they are strong in their own right. Including mentality.

Yes, this also includes the yanderes in the drabbles.

Do you want to know the ONLY yanderes that won't physically hurt you? It's these guys:

Yandere! Royal Guards

Drabbles

Royal Duties: looking pretty, sitting still, watching your guards destroy the kingdom.

You got isekai’d. Now three murder machines think your blank stares are divine wisdom.

And, that's because they're engineered to protect you, not harm you. These yanderes are the only canon yanderes that will never hurt you physically. They're the ones who will protect you with their lives. Aside from them? Nothing. No one. Every single yandere in my library will hurt and may kill you. Yes. Even if they may not seem like it, even if it's dark humor content, even if they look ridiculous and dramatic.

And you know the good thing about being a psychological horror-thriller author?

No one can tell what happens next.

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[little-glitter-kitten]

I Think The Apple's Rotten Right To The Core Pt 6

Prologue: As your brother, Caleb always took great pride in the fact that he was always the first to notice the little things when it came to you. When you were hurt, when you were sick, when you were lying or keeping a secret. What will Caleb do when he notices just how much his precious little adopted sister has grown? Can he fight the filthy, rotten feelings threatening to ruin all he holds dear?

(Caleb x Reader, no use of 'Y/N, AFAB reader, size difference.)

TW: Pseudo-incest, dub-con, somnophilia, sexting, semi-public sex,  possessive Caleb, Obsessed Caleb, Yandere Caleb.

YOUR POV:

You sit at the dinner table, trying your best to make conversation with your Grandmother while studiously avoiding Caleb's eyes.

You swear you could feel every time his gaze landed on you, the weight of it feeling almost as heavy as a physical touch. Your breath would catch in your throat whenever your eyes locked and you were beginning to grow frustrated.

You were more than frustrated, actually.

After Caleb left your bedrooom and went to help set the table like nothing had even happened, you spent the next five minutes wiping the traces of his cum off of you. You didn't even have enough time to bring yourself to orgasm before Grandma was calling for you to come downstairs and eat.

To say that you were pent up was an understatement.

Caleb was busy telling your Grandma about his old high school friends while you pushed your salad around your plate and tried not to sulk.

"...they split a few years ago and went their seperate ways. Last I heard, she was back in her parents house and unemployed but he met someone else and is now engaged." He told them.

"At least he got his happy ending, though." You said nonchalantly, stabbing a piece of lettuce with more force than was necessary. "Too bad about her."

You felt his eyes snap back to you and you swear you could feel your body grow heavier under Calebs intense scrutiny. You risked a glance up to see him looking at you, rubbing his chin as though pondering something.

"Well, maybe, if she wasn't so intent on playing the victim card, she would realise that good things..." You felt his foot slide up you leg under the table. "...come to those who wait."

Just as suddenly as it appeared, his foot was gone and Caleb had risen from his chair to take his dishes to the sink. Leaving you to sit and stew in your rapidly swirling thoughts.

After dinner, the three of you had retired to the living room. Grandma and Caleb sat at opposite ends of the three-seater while you occupied the wingback chair that sat perpendicular to the couch. It was known as your chair and no one would dare sit in it while you were home.

Relaxing into the seat, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone as Grandma continued her latest knitting project and Caleb lay back on the sofa, watching the TV.

Though the room was filled with a comfortable silence, you were anything but comfortable. You were using your phone as a way to distract yourself from the man sitting right 6 feet away from you, who seemed to be completely unaffected.

Just as you were beginning to feel your nerves settle, your phone vibrated in your hand, a drop-down notification appearing and informing you of a text from Caleb.

You steal a glance at him, his eyes focused on the TV but his phone sat in front of him, face down on the couch. Looking back down at your phone, you begin to read.

Caleb: 'Is my sweet, little pipsqueak sulking the corner?  ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)'

You ignore him and continue scrolling but it wasn't long before you see another text appear.

Caleb: 'I can see you've read my message. Giving me the silent treatment, pipsqueak?'

You knew it was incredibly immature of you but you knew how much he hated being ignored. Looking up at him, you find his gaze already on you. With a bored expression on your face, you lock your phone screen and place it on the chair in front of you before turning your attention to the television.

Very quickly, you felt your phone buzz once...then twice....then three times.

Looking over, you see him typing furiously, his brow furrowed in a mix on concentration and...anger?

Feeling like you may have pushed him to far, you pick up your phone and read the messages.

Caleb: 'Is this because we didn't get time for you to have your fun?'

Caleb: 'Because, it sounds like you had plenty of fun last night... I heard you taking care of yourself after I left the room. How many times did you come? I counted at least 6. Well...from what I could hear from your bedroom door, anyway.'

Caleb: 'You always were a brat when you didn't get your way.'

You couldn't help the audible scoff that escaped your mouth. The nickname 'brat' was always his go to when he was upset with you.

Beginning to feel pins and needles, you uncrossed your legs to give them a stretch before crossing them again. Risking a glance at Caleb, you blanched. The tips of his ears were bright red, the creases between his eyebrows becoming more pronounced and the veins in his neck standing out.

Is he really that angry from a bit of silent treatment?

Caleb: 'Did you seriously just flash me after ignoring me, pipsqueak?'

As much as you wanted to reply and deny it, you were too stubborn to concede defeat and stop the silent treatment. You sat, watching Caleb's typing bubble appear, holding your breath.

Caleb: 'You little cocktease! If you know what's good for you, you will lock your door tonight and pray to God I don't get in.'

[brothersfuck]

YOUR GIRL!SAM HC’S OMG.

any thoughts on weecest and dean coming to the realisation he wants to fuck his little sister?

Omg yes yes YES I've been thinking about it so hard and so long that when I came back to check my inbox and saw this I almost passed out [Here's a warning!! this post contains mentions of SA(but not between Sam and dean), please click off if you're uncomfy, thank you!!]

Dean didn't really realize it just like that one day, it was more of a build up to find the treasure, like a car drive until you reach the gas station kind of realization

Like that one time where John left them alone in a two bed motel and Sam, poor little girl, woke up from a nightmare and shook Dean hard enough to wake him just so she could snuggle under his arm

Whenever that happened, he'd crane his head down and sniff her hair (smells like dandelions and being out in the sun too much, dean told me so), wrap his arms around her body and close his eyes too hard when he'd feel the blood rush down

It couldn't have been his fault, it wasn't his fault, he was a teenager--he had hormones. But hugging his soft twelve year old sister and getting horny over that? He really needed to question his morals. Or maybe he needed a drink, whichever one made the strain in his pants go away first

He tried to cover it up as much as possible, even explaining it to himself the best he could. It was just girls, just girls. He liked girls, he kissed girls; lots of them, so maybe it's just some kind of trigger in his brain to get rock solid when he's cuddling his little sister who's, also a girl?

Whatever. The thing is. Dean definitely wasn't attracted to his little sister.

When Sam turned thirteen, she stopped trying to cuddle up under Dean's arms after nightmares anymore, she'd wake up in cold sweat, grab a flashlight, and read a book in total silence, sat against the corner farthest away from his brother

Dean noticed, of course, like all good big brothers do, and even felt a little disappointed in that. It was a tradition at this point, that he'd be the one to protect her from all the bad, keep her clean and virgin, but he understood that Sam was at that age where things get unbalanced and the world feels too big or the room feels too small so he tries to help out as much as possible

When Sam has questions, he actually answers. What questions he can't answer, he takes Sam to a nearby library and lets her read up on things. When Sam has questions about boys and relationships and love, Dean tenses and sweats. He knows all about relationships and love, hell, he's had some rough make out sessions with girls under the school bleachers so yeah, he knows about love

But boys?

Really?

Sam wasn't prepared for that. Sam wasn't prepared for anything, matter of fact, Dean was the only boy aside from dad, maybe, that Sam should ever even talk to! Yes, he was speaking crazy inside his head, but it made no sense to Dean why Sam needed other boys, he was right here wasn't he? Was he a bad older brother? Was Sam getting rebellious?

Was he just jealous?

Sam stopped asking those kinds of questions when Dean stopped trying to steer the conversation to some other topic and outright just started to tell Sam that she wasn't ready. Sam was ready, hell she was thirteen, so what was Dean even worrying about?

This topic led to Sam's first ever late night sneak out, she was secretive, you had to give her that, and extremely quiet--when your father's a soldier you have to learn what wakes him up and what doesn't. She'd been talking to a boy she met behind the school her and her brother go to (for the meantime) and he was just there, reading, away from the noise and sweaty sport kids

Safe to say they got along pretty well, and under the guise of researching on the net about monsters or whatever, she even managed to keep their chats secret from Dean!

When she sneaked out and went to that dark park expecting a scrawny boy to show up carrying books they could both read together, she was right. Nerd kid number one was there, but no books. She greeted him like she usually would and asked where the books were only to be greeted with a harsh grab to the face and a forced kiss, teeth clanking against teeth and her hands trying to push him away. Once. Twice. On the third try, she managed to get him off, but not before he already felt up her chest and kissed down on her neck

Fuck! She underestimated boys at this age, boys and men..she was prepared, she thought she was..and besides, a scrawny kid wanting to kiss and make out? That doesn't fit the criteria at all! And why was he so strong?

The thoughts ran as fast as she did, away from that park, away from that boy, away from the disgusting sensation of hands on her chest. She was mad. And crying. Like having a nightmare

When she got back to the motel room, she didn't bother being quiet. The door handle rattled like an anxious before giving way to a crying, heaving Sam, and this time, Dean woke up to it.

Groggy, yet used to being awakened so suddenly, he caught glance of Sam running up to the side of his motel bed and sniffling out a "Dean, dean...can I please sleep in your bed.."

Dean is ecstatic.

He shushes and coos at Sam, and for once, she lets him. She's so eager to cuddle up against her brother that she doesn't notice the hard bulge pressing against the small of her back, doesn't notice Dean's hand splaying over her stomach, because it's her brother, and her brother would never..

She keeps on crying and eventually, Dean has to ask why she is. She tells him about how she's sorry for talking to a boy behind his back, about how she's sorry she sneaked out and went to meet with him, about how his hands...his lips..

His lips. On hers.

Dean reached the metaphorical gas station, driving his metaphorical car, when his arms tightened around her and comforted her to sleep and his nose stuck to her hair like a claim, like maybe if he held her tighter then what that boy did, stealing her first kiss away from someone who deserved it more, would be erased

Sam goes to school the next day with Dean trailing behind her, and she hears the whispers of other students talking to each other about a kid who went to their school found dead in a ditch and she knows..she knows dean knows she does, and without exchanging a glance, she keeps moving

Because it's terrifying knowing your brother would kill anyone who laid their hands on you

But it's even more terrifying finding out he did it because his hands should be the only ones on your skin

[pages-and-1nk]

PLEASE IF YOURE A JILY OR JEGULUS SHIPPER READ THIS BECAUSE IT HAS TO FUCKING STOP U GUYS.

I’m done with the ridiculous conversation on Jily shippers harassing Jegulus shippers. (And vice versa, this one just covers Jily hate on Jegulus) Please read my breakdown response to the most common argument presented as to why Jegulus is bad.

🙏 PLEASE 🙏 .

—————————

—————————

Oh okay jumping RIGHT into it. *Deep breath*

No. No it’s actually not. As a gay trans man, your take is incorrect and actually so fucking wild it astounds me you think that way. To break it down MISOGYNY is the hatred or prejudice against women. Someone taking two male characters- even if one has a canon gf- and shipping them together does not in anyway promote misogyny nor the erasure of the gf. Infact, implying that in order for Lily to be important or developed she has to date James is actually, ironically, misogynistic.

Now is that to say all jegulus shippers ARENT misogynist or have such views? NO, ofc there are bad apples everywhere- doesn’t mean the whole bag is spoiled. Misogyny is not preferring a gay pairing to a cannon heterosexual pairing. Thats frankly a stupid argument and you’re just attaching words with negative connotations to a ship you don’t like, to then make your ship seem more morally righteous and superior and discredit anyone who argues with you by labeling them as misogynistic. (That does more harm then good btw as it discredits and devalues actual misogyny in fan spaces)

As for fetishization, also not inherently. People enjoying a masc and a twink together is not fetishization inherently. Now, it’s a thin line to walk, and in order to do that you must have critical thinking and be able to understand THESE FAKE GAY MEN are not ALL REAL GAY MEN, but it being the dynamic of a ship you like is… not fetishization. Obsessing and harassing REAL gay men and being invested in their sexuality and sexual experiences is fetishization. Please understand the weight of the words you are using, and how throwing them around in such a context not only makes you look like a buffoon but also is wildly undermining to the weight those words hold.

Smh.

————————

————————

Gonna go cry myself to sleep now brb.

But SERIOUSLY? Implying that Regulus is watered down to “James’ twink” tells me you have never actually engaged with Jegulus shippers before and have made broad assumptions about a ship you’ve never even given a chance.

Crimson rivers, choices, art heist baby, only the brave, teach them how to dream, whatever happened to the young young lovers, I COULD GO ON. All of them have well rounded character designs for Regulus- but because you can’t take your head out of your ass and are too focused on how bad of a ship Jegulus is, you’ll never read them!

(Which valid, you don’t have to like Jegulus Jily shippers, in fact- you can loath it as much as you want, but you can’t talk about characterization when you’ve uh… never actually read the characterization)

And those last few sentences? Oh man. James cheating on Lily is like SUCH A SMALL fraction of fanfic/works, such a small fraction. Unless you imply that James could stake a claim to Lily before Lily even agrees to them dating which uh… *cough cough*…. I smell misogyny again… *cough cough.*

Like bsffr rn. 😐

————————

————————

Oh god I think I threw up in my mouth hold on-

First- yes. Jily is an amazing ship that can be wholesome and lovely, and is such a beautifully tragic form of love I will ALWAYS respect it and the people who ship it. Me personally, I don’t read fanfic with Jily, but I def engage with Jily related content bcs it’s GOOD.

But you see, people like you simply ruin it for those who are Jegulus shippers and want to Drabble in Jily because you are TOXIC.

No one is reducing Lily to a baby maker for Jegulus. In fact, I’ve seen more fics with TRANS REGULUS GETTING PREGNANT than I have with surrogate Lily. And even in the surrogate Lily fics, it’s usually well written and Lily has a personality beyond “baby maker” and is just a friend consensually agreeing to help a queer couple out with having a child.

There’s also fics where they co-parent Harry, and if that’s what you’re talking about AGAIN that’s literally normal. I’m a child of divorce, my parents co parent- that’s just how bloody divorce works it isn’t misogynist.

As for the canonical death eater bit- please tell me which part of the canon text refers to regulus being a blood purist. He joined Voldemort, correct, he also rebelled against Voldemort- correct. All of the reasons for him doing both of those things are ASSUMPTIONS MADE BY INFERENCES FROM A BIASED PERSPECTIVE.

Obviously you can have your own preferences on what regulus was like, as can I, because CANNON INFORMATION is LIMITED. Therefore, you can do what you want.

And even if it wasn’t you could still, do what you want BECAUSE ITS FICTIONAL.

Please, I am begging you, for my sanity and your own, just stop. All of it needs to stop. You get no where by tearing another ship down, it won’t stop and you just leave a bad taste in the mouths of people who want to ship Jily but are Jegulus shippers.

This applies to both sides BY THE WAY, Jegulus shippers have a problem with inserting themselves in Jily spaces, or within other ships, or feeling the need to comment on ships with Regulus or James in them and say things like “Jegulus is better” or “ew that’s so weird” (I saw this in particular with kittywater) We all need to realize that unless we just stick in our lanes and fuck off, we’re going to continue promoting toxicity in this fandom.

I love Jily, I love Jegulus, IM PROOF WE CAN LIVE IN HARMONY JUST KNOCK IT OFF, PULL YOUR PANTS UP, AND GROW TF UP!

Anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk, I’m really upset over this post and I just needed to rant. Please reblog this so it reaches more people.

(Also I have not tagged the creator of this post, because I don’t want harassment to befall them. Signed- the author)

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part 13//t.c.

He told you not to look at posts about him and Kylie online. But something possessed you to look. It was something obsessive inside of you.

After the A Complete Unknown premiere in Paris, he and Kylie had a ‘secret’ date with loads of paparazzi to capture them entering and leaving the restaurant and the hotel afterwards.

It hurt you to see him holding her hand, leading her through the crowd of flashing lights and photographers shouting at them.

Kylie wore a black, skintight jumpsuit which showed lots of cleavage. She seemed to be almost posing for the cameras, smiling directly at one of them. She looked so proud to be on Timothée’s arm.

You couldn’t help but think that that should be you. That she didn’t deserve him, even if they were just pretending. You hated seeing it. You had a horrible feeling inside when you saw them together. You didn't recognize your Timmy.

He didn’t even have to kiss her or look her, it was just the simple fact of her touching him, sitting close to him in the car, it just made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too jealous for this to work.

At least you had a couple days to clear your head before you saw Timmy again. You decided to go home, to see your parents, have a home cooked meal with your siblings. You needed to come down to earth, out of Timothée Chalamet’s orbit for just a moment.

Your first night in your parents’ house, he tried calling you. But you weren’t ready to talk. You couldn’t be his girlfriend at this moment, or his assistant.

He left voicemails and text after text, “baby call me please.” “need to hear your voice.” “miss you so much. I wish you were here.” So many sweet things. But you couldn’t give in. You loved him, of course you did. But you had been feeling way too much and needed a break from it all. You felt like you didn't know yourself anymore.

……..

In all, you spent a week away. You let Timmy know that you needed a vacation, and he granted you the time off. But that was all the conversation was about. You didn’t let it get any more personal than that, despite his desperate attempts.

You knew that he was probably hurting too, with you going away so suddenly. But you did your best not to think about it.

But it was finally time to go back. You felt refreshed, and level-headed about the situation. You were ready for whatever was to come.

You knocked on his door on your first Monday back to work. There was no answer. You waited a moment, then let yourself inside. “Timmy?” you called. There was no sign of him, or any sign that he had been roaming around the apartment at all that morning.

The place was unkempt. Take out containers and beer bottles scattered about. You started to really worry. You called his name again with no response.

You checked his bedroom, and there he was, sleeping like a rock.

You shook him, gently, “Timmy, it’s time to start work for the day.” you whispered.

He grumbled, clenching his eyes, then opening them. He sighed when he looked up at you. “You’re here, finally.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffed, “Fuck no, I’m not okay.” he raised up in the bed, his eyes red and more tired looking than ever. "My girlfriend leaves me high and dry for a fucking week. Do you not understand how bad I need you?”

“I do. But I needed time to take care of myself.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I couldn’t stand the pictures of you Kylie on your romantic date in Paris.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ve told you not to pay attention to any of that.”

“Oh fuck off, Timothée, and put yourself in my shoes! How would you like it if some other man was parading me around across the world? Do you really think that I want you to be with another woman half the time?” you didn't want to raise your voice at him, but you couldn't help it.

“It’ll come to end eventually, I swear it will! I’m sorry that you’re upset.” he calmed down, reaching to grab your hand.

“Do I not have the right to be?”

“Yes, you do. I just don’t know what I can do about it right now."

“You can choose. It’s her or me.”

“You know that I choose you.”

“No. It’s me or her. You don’t get me in private and Kylie Jenner in public. Not anymore. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret, not even yours. I can't keep putting you before myself.”

“Please, don’t do this.” he pleaded, his eyes becoming glassy.

“I love you, but I can’t let you consume me like this. I can’t work for you anymore.” The tears were coming, you sniffled.

“I don’t give a shit about you being my assistant, I just want you.”

“If you break it off with her.”

“I-"

You shrugged, “See? You can’t give her up. I don’t know if it’s the fame or the sex,-"

He cut you off sharply, “I don’t have sex with her!”

“She is sex, Timothée. It’s about how masculine you are if you’re dating her. That's what it's all about. People take you seriously now that you’ve bagged her.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve had time to think about this, that’s all. And I think I understand. You’ll never have a normal relationship now. It’s not for you, Timothée.”

“Why do you keep calling me by my full name? Are you..." he looked down, swallowing hard as a tear fell from his swelling eyes, “are you breaking up with me?”

You gasped, hearing the words out loud was something you hadn’t prepared for. You put your hand out, wanting to soothe him, to run your fingers through his hair, to hold him. But you couldn’t. Slowly, you retracted your hand. “I just don’t see how it could ever really work. Not if you’re involved with someone else. I want someone who doesn’t have to hide me.”

Timmy took a deep breath, nodding, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he put his head on his hands.

You wiped your own tears away, “I’m going to go now.” you said.

He looked at you again, “Okay.”

As you started to walk out of his bedroom, he spoke again.

"Y/n, I want you to know that everything I've ever said to you was real. I love you. You've meant more to me than you could ever understand. So, thank you."

February 16, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala @heatherpi @iconic-jedimullet @pmak2002

[be-xkyy]

Is it bad that I wanna have the yandere men’s babies? 🫣 Cowboys, Sugar Daddy, etc. I’m curious though how some of them would react if reader was enthused to settle down with them and start a family? 🥰

Please don’t stop the breeding/pregnancy kinks

Hi! that's a good question anon and I'll answer it right now.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Yandere reactions to a reader willing and happy to be with them and have their babies.

Yandere Farmer link

This grumpy man doesn't jump for joy or anything, in his mind he doesn't understand why he would be elated by the simple fact that you know your place and where you belong? You belong beneath him receiving his fat cock in your greedy pussy. End of story.

He already thinks he's old (maybe just a little...) and that he's running out of time to have a family and you accepting your place without making a fuss takes a huge weight off his shoulders, he takes you to live with him that very day and oh... you'll realize that this man has the stamina of a bull and the same softness.

As soon as you arrive he already has you bent over the kitchen table with your cheek pressed against the oak wood while his fat cock abuses your pussy, his fat balls slapping your plush ass with a dirty sound while a large hand holds you tightly by the back of the neck squeezing the little hairs deliciously.

From that day on you will have your poor pussy sore and overstimulated because he will fuck you all the time and at all hours.

He fucks you in the morning when the rooster wakes up and doesn't even crow yet but he's already buried deep in your pussy, he fucks you in the barn on a pile of hay when you go to feed the horses, he fucks you in the afternoon when he takes a break after hours in the field under the sun, he fucks you in the shower when you go to bathe to clean off the dirt from a productive day of work and he fucks you when you go to sleep with his calloused hand squeezing your throat, your eyes are rolled back as he fills your fertile pussy with his thick cum for the eleventh time that day.

That repeats itself every day so it's no surprise when just a month later you find out you're pregnant, did that soften it? No really I keep fucking you mercilessly and squeezing your throat until you see stars but you notice him rubbing your flat belly from time to time.

"The children in my family are big— when you get older you may feel a little uncomfortable at first but don't worry, you will feel better during the seventh or eighth pregnancy."

Yandere Cowboy link

Well, reader actually does like yandere Cowboy (since she doesn't know what a bad person he really is) so from the start she wants to be with him and does what he asks her, she stopped taking birth control when he asked her to, she let him fuck her where he wanted and kept her legs up with a pillow underneath for half an hour so his semen wouldn't leak out because he asked her to.

Besides the fact that he knows how to take advantage of her, she's too young and naive and believes that besides her father he's the only one who loves and values ​​her, so it's normal for her to let him sneak into her room (secretly from her father obviously) to fuck like rabbits, he squeezes her in a tight mating hold that barely lets her breathe keeping her legs pressed down almost touching her ears.

He pumps his fat cock into her pussy frantically as she lets out low mewls, he uses a calloused finger to rub circles on her tiny clit that tightens around his member from the overwhelming pleasure she feels and he lets out a guttural growl as he watches her delicious tits bouncing right in front of his face, with one final thrust he cums deep inside her womb flooding it with his swimmers.

"That was so good baby doll, ugh— ha! I bet after this I'll get pregnant with twins, and if that's the case we'll do it again and again until it works."

Yandere Dilf link

I'd be over the moon, really. He already believes you're his wife, he's believed it since he first saw you holding his son (very delirious) and for you to accept that fact so happily and willingly to be his, to have his babies, would only increase his already enormous delusions.

You won't be going to college anymore, of course not. You'll stay home to take care of his son and prepare everything for when he comes back from work, as a reward he'll make love to you every night without exception, he'll fuck you fervently with one of his hands covering your mouth, muffling your high-pitched moans while his cock drills your swollen pussy mercilessly.

He'll kiss your tits and neck before licking the salt off your skin as he tells you how much he wants to fill you with his babies, that you'll be the prettiest mother ever, all fat and round with one baby in your belly while you hold the other on your hip, he keeps repeating those things over and over again until he finally reaches the limit by cumming deep inside your swollen pussy just like it should be.

"Darling— let's do it again, what if once isn't enough...? Come on spread your legs."

Yandere Sugar Daddy link

Honestly this man is arrogant as fuck when he sees how happy and willing you are to be his and have his brats, he'll end up gloating while pinching your cheek telling you how proud he is that you came to your senses and are his good little girl.

Obviously he'll take you to live with him in his mansion a big one so his future children can have fun running around all over the place, you'll drop out of your law career after all now you have him and his kids soon so why study? He'll fuck you anywhere, he'll fuck you on his private jet forcing you to ride him while the embarrassed stewardesses serve champagne without making eye contact, he'll fuck you on all fours in front of the fireplace filling you with his cum over and over again scolding you playfully when his cum comes out of your pussy staining his 50 thousand dollar carpet he sticks two fingers in your pussy plugging you.

He doesn’t stop fucking you when he finds out you’re pregnant, he doesn’t stop fucking you when you’re 7 months along and your stomach is all big and swollen, he lays you down on the bed making you ride him you bounce up and down as best you can while his hands rub your ass before moving up to your belly heavy with his child, his child, just the thought of him doing this to you turns him on so much, he ends up cumming inside you every time, without fail.

“Fuck— I wish I could put another one of my babies inside you right now, see you even more swollen with my children. Shit— move again.”

[cjsmalley]

A New Goddaughter:

The Doctor and Rose went out first, holding hands as always.

That, more than anything else they might have said or done, convinced the Royal couple and Tucker of the Doctor’s identity, even in a new face.

Anyone could claim the title, but Rose would only be with the true Doctor.

After reintroductions were done with, and the three admired the Doctor’s new face, he spoke, “We’ve actually a favor to ask you.”

He seemed tired and Rose joined him in the exhaustion as she said, “We…accidentally, mind, kidnapped a little girl. Human. Seven years old. From 1996, England.”

“How do you accidentally kidnap someone?” Danny questioned harshly.

“It was supposed to be twelve hours,” the Doctor replied with a small whine.

Everyone who knew him facepalmed, before Sam asked, “How long was she—?”

“Twelve years an’ countin’, Rose sighed, “saw the missing persons papers before we let her out. Means we can’t just take her back. ‘Sides, the TARDIS an’ Bad Wolf are both sayin’ this’s a better Timeline than what could’ve happened.”

“So, what’s the favor?” Tucker asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“We want you lot to be her godparents from outside our universe,” the Doctor said seriously, “we’ve already named godparents on the inside, Jack and Sarah Jane, but like with Jenny, we want somewhere outside to stash her if another Davros situation occurs.”

“This is all legal?”

“As legal as can be,” Rose nodded, “UNIT laid the groundwork for a false record. She’s not Amelia Pond anymore. She’s Amelia Wolfe, born in Scotland, parents are dead so we’ve adopted her. Family friends, see. Lots of other smaller details are still being worked out, but that’s the gist of it. And she’s got records in Pete’s world too now, with their Torchwood. Bit easier since she died as a baby there.”

“We’ll get the paperwork going on our end then,” Tucker whipped out his beloved PDA and started the process.

“So,” Sam spoke, “we do need to meet her.”

“Right here, Aunt Sam,” Jenny emerged from the TARDIS, leading a little redheaded girl by the hand.

The little girl seemed nervous.

“Turns out, Amy’s afraid of ghosts,” Jenny said casually, “so I promised her, crossed both hearts and everything, that Uncle Danny’s a nice ghost. That all his staff and friendly ghosts won’t hurt her. If she ever meets a mean ghost she can call Uncle Danny, ‘cause he’s the King of Ghosts, and he’d deal with ‘em.”

Danny stood up and walked down to meet them, crouching, “Jenny’s right, I’m a very nice ghost as long as you’re a very nice person,” he said before sticking out a hand, “Danny Phantom, it’s very nice to meet you, Amy.”

Cautiously, Amy shook his hand, becoming braver when he did nothing to her but shake her hand.

Danny, still holding her hand, stood up and led her closer to the double thrones and Tucker’s more modest seat, “And these are my wife, Sam, and our best friend, Tucker. They’re human.”

Amy looked up at Sam in astonishment, “You married a ghost?”

Sam chuckled, leaving her throne, “Well, he wasn’t a ghost when I fell for him. ‘Sides, Danny isn’t even fully ghost.”

Danny nodded when Amy’s head whipped back to him, “That’s right, I’m still half-human. I was in a terrible accident years ago. Shoulda killed me dead. It didn’t—at least, not all the way.”

Letting go of her hand, he shifted back to his human form, “Danny Fenton, nice to meet you.”

Amy blinked.

“In fact, let’s meet another ghost,” Danny put his pinkies to his mouth and whistled sharply before shouting, “Cujo! Here boy!”

A ginormous green dog bounded up, ginormous, as big as a house, and Amy cowered behind the Doctor and Rose.

“Father?” said a boy’s voice as a boy slid from the ghost dog’s back before the dog shrank to a puppy.

“Good going, Danny!” Sam said, swatting the back of his head, before she said to the boy, “Dami, the Doctor and Rose brought their new daughter to meet us but she’s afraid of ghosts. Your father thought it a good idea to introduce her to Cujo, without checking his form.”

“Father,” Damian sighed, before spotting Amy and holding out a hand, “I am Damian Fenton-Manson; I assure you that Cujo is mostly harmless…he is a guard dog after all.”

Amy slowly took his hand, coming from behind her adoptive parents, “I go by Amy, Amy Wolfe now. Your dad’s a ghost.”

“Well met, Amy Wolfe,” Damian led her towards the green puppy, “and yes, I know. Father is kind and caring, strict when needed. He is just like anyone living, merely half-dead. Cujo is our family dog…Cujo, sit.”

Cujo sat like a good boy and Damian, Amy at his side, knelt.

It took some coaxing, but Amy finally let Cujo sniff her hand; he then leapt into her lap, front paws on her chest, to lick her face.

Amy giggled, “He’s just a dog!”

“Yes, merely a dead dog,” Damian affirmed, “many ghosts are just as Cujo is; if they were kind in life then they will likely be kind in death, if they were unkind in life…”

“They’re mean ghosts.” Amy finished.

Damian nodded, “Yes; sometimes death, eternity will change a person. For example, the ghost we shall refer to as Grandfather was, in one life, a god-like being. He heard a prophecy that a child of his loins would overthrow his throne. So he ate his children.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes; as godlings themselves they survived until the day their youngest brother, once secreted away by their mother, slew the tyrant god, slicing open his abdomen and freeing his siblings. However, in another incarnation, into your universe no less, he was a Time Lord. A forefather of the Doctor. He helped found Gallifreyian society, the Doctor’s culture.”

Amy’s eyes were large as she looked between Damian and the Doctor.

Before she could say anything, another ghost appeared, storming into the room.

Amy froze as the ghost—a woman with blue flames for hair and a guitar slung across her back—marched up to Danny without fear, “What’s this about a new kid, Babypop?” she demanded.

“A new goddaughter, Amy, Ember,” Danny replied, pointing out Amy with Damian and Cujo, “and she’s currently afraid of ghosts—”

Ember arched an eyebrow, “You—the half-ghost Ghost King—have a goddaughter afraid of ghosts?”

“Yeah, and you’re not helping!”

Ember spun on her heel, spotted the children and dog, and softened; taking careful, calm steps, she knelt before Amy.

“Hey, kiddo,” Ember said sweetly but not patronizingly, holding out a blue tinted hand, “You can call me Ember. I work for King Babypop over there.”

“Miss Ember is Father’s bard,” Damian explained as Amy hesitantly shook hands with the ghost, “that mean it is her duty to create songs about the royal family’s deeds and heritage, the deeds of our ancestors if there are any to sing about. She also functions as an advisor—”

“See, the King was never trained for any kingly stuff,” Ember nodded, “so I translate a lot of the double-talk the lower kings and queens and Court tries to get by him. Meaning, I tell him when he’s doing something wrong or against ghost culture or someone’s insulting him or any royal. He’s getting better at catching stuff himself; helps his wife was basically trained for all this fancy high society bull. Mostly, I get paid to write music as long as I don’t hypnotize someone on purpose without Royal Permission and people have to listen to my music because I’m the Royal Bard.”

She whipped her guitar around her body and made up a quick ditty about the Doctor from what she knew of his exploits before shrugging, “See?”

Amelia was smiling shyly, “Brilliant.”

“So, King Babypop’s probably gonna give you his personal comm-line number, it’s like a phone and phone number,” Ember said, “he gives all the kids he considers his a special phone and his personal number. Everyone does. But, I actually like you, Amy, so here,” Ember pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Amy, “my personal number. If you’re ever in real trouble and need a quick rescue, call me and I’ll be there.”

“We did tell you there are nice ghosts,” Damian spoke up suddenly, “Miss Ember is one of them.”

“Thank you, Miss Ember,” Amy said shyly.

Ember smiled and nodded, standing up to give the room a lazy salute before leaving.

Over the next few hours, Amy was introduced to many ghosts, who were all nice, and slowly became comfortable with them being around, talking to her.

“This’s the Royal Nanny, Clara” Danny introduced the latest ghost to arrive; a young, blue-tinted woman with blue-tinted dark hair and matching eyes.

“If something big is happening, that needs all-hands-on-deck,” Danny continued “but we need someone watching the kids, Clara does it. So, she might watch after you occasionally.”

“We trust Clara with our lives and afterlives,” Sam spoke up, nursing her baby, Anakin, as she did so, “she’s one of the nicest ghosts we know.”

Clara smiled and personally introduced herself, “Hi, Amy. I’m Clara, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Has anyone given you a tour of the Palace?”

Amy shook her head.

But the Doctor coughed lightly, “That’ll have to wait another day, Miss Clara; the TARDIS’ getting restless,” he looked apologetic, “She still doesn’t like the Realms.”

Clara nodded in understanding.

The small, time travelling family said their goodbyes, Amy now brave enough to give Danny a hug which he returned warmly, and entered the TARDIS.

They left through a portal back to their universe.

Danny met Sam and Tucker’s eyes and chuckled, turning to Damian, “Made a new friend?”

“I promised Jenny I would,” Damian nodded seriously, “soon I must introduce her to Jonathan.”

“Next time.”

“Yes, Father.”

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

[pancake404]

Character(s) Descriptions in the Limbo: Hoppy Hopscotch

You’d be surprised to find out that even if Hoppy was typically seen as part of the Save Haven, she had developed a bond with the big bad Catnap/Theo. They are so close that Playcare functioned as a second Safe Haven(though the Nightmare Critters were ruthless) which made supply bringing a lot easier. All she had to do was get past the Doctor. Though…Hoppy might’ve not told Catnap that those supplies were for toys that mainly were considered Heretics which Dogday is aware of and constantly reminds her of that fact(she’s scared that it’ll break her and Catnap apart). She also feels guilt about…leaving Catnap alone the way she did because if she hadn’t, maybe Catnap wouldn’t have gone feral on Dogday’s lower half.

This guilt is reflected with her Mirror which is “MOON” and it typically appears as just a floating moon whenever she thinks negatively about topics regarding Catnap. It strengthens and Sawyer’s(not actually the Doctor) eye appears which leads to manipulation and similar effects to Dogday and his mirror. However, instead of going manic, she becomes more depressed and the moon becomes a container which grabs her and keeps her within while the Doctor taunts further. It could also trap others and hold them “hostage”.

The Doctor appears in the mirror because it was he who got into her head, convincing her of committing while Catnap was made to watch.

Hoppy still has a great admiration of the moon and while others have intense negative feelings of Catnap(Dogday is…complicated), Hoppy is grateful for him ever since he saved and helped her when he easily could’ve gotten rid of her. Her gratitude extends to near obsession which Catnap sometimes gets concerned that it’s similar to his perspective on the Prototype which he too is already having problems with.

The others are…concerned as well as some believed she developed a strong crush on him but Hoppy never gives a straight answer. But in the bright side, her being a middle ground could help the relationship between Catnap and other toys, maybe they all could be a community like in the Safe Haven. Or maybe some of them could be a friend group at least.

“Wait…he’s been distancing himself? Why? I know he isn’t liked much around here but he doesn’t seem to care about that, he would just be with us.”

“That’s what I think. Theo—Catnap just simply ended conversation early and walked away. Yarnaby followed and tried getting Catnap’s attention but he just pet Yarnaby’s head and without saying a word, just left.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“I don’t know. But I keep seeing that damn HAND when Catnap leaves. Why won’t it leave Catnap!? Why won’t it go away?!”

“Gone without his one and only savior…”

“Why is it him! Why did the Prototype have to get him!? For ten years straight Catnap listened to the Prototype! More than that! And now that the Prototype got rid of him…Catnap had been just a…”

“A broken soul? Empty fragment? Lost kitten?”

“Normally others would call him a monster. A lost monster. You’re the only one that would call him a “kitten”. But he behaves like a moon without sunlight. Invisible. Cloaked in empty space and darkness.”

“I wish I could be that sunlight…just a little more would be nice.”

“You would’ve been. We would’ve been. But I guess the Prototype got to him faster and drilled his memory in Catnap’s mind. Did he even care about him.”

“I don’t know….I hope so….for his sake….”