#where if one person is the bad guy that must make the other the good guy automatically
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The leftism leaving peoples bodies when you tell them that literal terrorist organizations arent the good guys just because theyre against a bad guy
#im catching up on last week tonight while i pack to move tomorrow#and i got to the palestine episode that everyone was angry at him about#and i dont... fucking get why everyone was so angry at him#for what? he rightfully calls out how hamas tricked palestinians in their election and killed people#AND calls out the israeli government for committing war crimes and a genocide#like. those are just facts dude#his brief section on the internal politics of how hamas rose to power in palestine#and how palestinians feel about the matter i found very informative and interesting#and it shed a lot of light on the conflict thats been brewing between them and the nuances behind it#westerners whove never stepped foot in the middle east when you present them with middle eastern politics will be like#'okay who is the Good Guy and who is the Bad Guy'#and then apply their dumbass 2 party system to everybody else in the world#where if one person is the bad guy that must make the other the good guy automatically#innocent palestinians are fucking dying and youre wasting time arguing that hamas are Actually Good on a dying blogging site?#and getting mad at a cable tv late night host for telling the truth?#because it wasnt brain rotted enough for you?#get it together man. jesus#some thoughts
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If I had more money than I'd ever spend in a lifetime, I'd spend my life operating a pizzeria at a loss. Something with the slogan of "it ain't italian but you're hungry" - and a statement of how this is not authentic italian pizza because the owner's estranged aunt's italian ex-husband would not serve pizza in his italian restaurant because as far as he was concerned, a pizza is the "just throw that shit together" dish that you make out of leftovers, and he would not serve that to paying customers even if they wanted it. True story btw.
But I'd just like to run a place where the staff is allowed to tell rude customers to fuck off. And if they're scared to do that, they can summon me downstairs to do it myself (this fantasy involves having my own apartment upstairs of the restaurant), because you don't fucking disrespect my staff like that. Develop a reputation as a place where You'd Better Act Yourself or you get nothing, which elevates the quality of the food in peoples' minds because it's human to assume that more work=more worth, and if a pizza place can afford to simply throw rude customers out, that clearly must mean that the food is just that good that going back is worth it anyway.
Hiring enough people to get the work done in a leisurely pace and occasionally have the time to chat with each other or customers. You just do the job I gave you in the time I gave you, don't steal anything and don't watch porn off your phone anywhere where the customers can see you, you're good. Don't care if you quit school at 16 if you can still mop floor. Don't care if you've been to prison because you killed some guy, as long as you're not doing that here. Don't care if you deal drugs on your free time as long as you don't bring your business to your day job. This place is exclusively for pizza business.
Have an item on the menu called "random pizza" - and if you order that one, they'll just throw in a mix of whatever ingredients we've got too much of, like if the bell peppers gotta be used before they go bad, every single random pizza is going to have them until they're either gone or need to get tossed. If you've got dietary restrictions or allergies, you gotta specify that while ordering, because other than that, random pizza is just whatever ingredients we need to get rid of. Surplus ingredients du jour.
Building a reputation as a place that's somehow simultaneously sketchy as hell but also remarkably high quality, getting five star restaurant customer service from a waiter with blue hair and stick-n-poke tattoos, there's a homeless guy at the back of the kitchen eating an order that nobody picked up, every surface is spotless and no matter how important of a suit-and-tie you are, if you won't behave yourself the owner will personally physically fight you.
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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, murder of nameless side characters
♡ fem reader
Thinking about that moment of violent change you’re forced to go through when your loving boyfriend becomes the terrifying man you don’t recognize—and how it completely eradicates the reality you’d grown so comfortable in, realizing it was all some perfectly orchestrated lie.
Rope burns on your wrists and ankles, tears streaking your chunky cheeks, and a poor soul’s blood on your pretty face belonging to some guy who’d gotten a little too close for comfort.
He’d cut him down like it was nothing.
The knife is held still by his side, a shining red murder weapon, dripping on the floor in the growing pond by his feet. He sighs heavily, casts his head back then looks behind him, beholding you through slim eyes, clicking his tongue, “Look what you made me do…”
He wouldn’t be the only one… several victims followed in his bloody path—witnesses who’d seen him struggle with you, kicking and screaming for all your worth, trying anything to get away. You were all too easily manhandled into the car, and could only watch behind the locked door, banging with bound fists on the glass while he gutted other passersby who’d threatened to call the police.
Driving off, he growls at you, first to shut up and then, “That was your fault—if only you’d been a good girl, none of those innocent people would have had to die.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel, wringing it in his stained grip—scarlet on ivory. “If you don’t want any more blood on your hands, you better sit pretty and not cause me any more trouble.”
You sob uncontrollably and inconsolably despite the threat—you can’t stop yourself—you can’t even comprehend his words. None of it makes any sense. You’d seen it all, and yet you can’t understand it—any of it. You’d watched the sweet guy you knew shed his skin and become a monster right before your eyes. It must be some bad dream, some terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.
But even if it is, you don’t want him touching you ever again. It makes you physically sick to your stomach to think you’d ever shared a bed with him—exchanged sweet nothings in the damp heat of each other. No, no, no, it’s not the same person—it can’t be. It can’t be true. What about the smiles you’d shared over breakfast, those times you’d surprised each other at lunch, all the dates, all the gifts, all the kisses, the future you’d talked about?
You’d fallen in love. But you’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.
He makes sure the door to the bedroom’s under lock and a key he stores somewhere you won’t find it. You squirm in your bonds on the bed when he approaches, shivering with whimpers under his hands, flinching at his touch while he unties you, then cringing as he angles your face to look at him—wanting to pry free, anything not to look into those changed eyes.
You hadn’t thought his build was imposing before, it hadn’t struck you as lethal. Naively, you’d thought him cozy—a big chest and a warm embrace he would scoop you up in, a safe place you could live. He’s cold now, menacing and filthy from his crimes—the body of a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. He’s so big it makes the room feel too small for the both of you. Claustrophobic.
He forces your gaze to him, and it’s all you see, those eyes, those unrecognizable eyes, with that look within you can’t understand, beholding you with burden.
“I still love you,” he states, though it angers him. “Even though you broke my heart. I still love you.”
You shake your head, or you try to, but it results in only tiny tremors caught in his hand where he keeps your chin, bloody fingers buried in your plump cheeks, squeezing so hard you wince.
“But it doesn’t come for free,” he seethes with an awful sneer. A type of grimace you’d never thought him capable of, overfilled with disdain. “My love is earned. And after all you did today, you’re in deep debt.”
He lets go of your face with a nasty shove, taking a mean grip on your shirt instead, using both fists to tear it down the middle. You yelp and cover yourself, but that only angers him further—causing him to grab your wrists and pin them to your side. You think you feel your joints popping.
“Test me, and I’ll hurt you,” he growls, his teeth bared at your ear where your face curls to hide itself in the pillow. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to make you sorry, then so be it. Be good, and I won’t have to take it that far.”
You lie as still as you can muster while he removes the rest—roughly as he goes—your bra, your skirt, your underwear. You only snivel and toil with the sheets in weak little fists, making your joints cramp up—feeling raw under him, at the mercy of those blood-dried hands.
You understand what he’s about to do, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on you before you hear the sharp ringing of his belt buckle being undone. You don’t look, but you don’t close your eyes either—the room is already dark enough that closing your eyes would make you feel too close to death. So, you keep your gaze fixed to the side, to the stale wall.
The bed bounces you as he shuffles. The urge to run bubbles within, but you know it wouldn’t be to your advantage. So your mind spins, thinking of other possibilities, growing ever more panicked when coming up empty.
He spits on your slit, then rears it with his spitefully erect shaft—pushing in without further prep. And you lose all sense of control.
Twisting at the attack, you scream again, “No! Stop—”
Your hands barely touch him before he’s answered the protest with a tightening grip on your neck. Unrelenting, your throat instantly snares, and you choke on any further outburst.
“I told you,” he chastises. “Why do you have to force my hand, huh?”
You gasp for any sliver worth of air, sipping through the cracks of his chokehold, but it’s very nearly sealed completely shut. You try lifting his grip with your own, both hands holding onto his wrist, wanting to pull loose but achieving nothing.
It’s so pitiful that he ignores the effort. Using his remaining hand to continue what he’d set out to do. Planting his tip at your unprepped entrance, he wasted no time before surging forward.
Your vision starts to spot, and your hands grow weak, barely hanging on.
“That’s good. Lie still and take it,” he groans—his lips on your cheek as he bullies through your dry walls, only aided by his spit. “And I might consider once’ enough.”
You don’t have a choice, feeling your body go numb. He picks your thigh up over his hip and drives deeper—starting a steady pace without letting go of your throat, squeezing the life out of you. Your hands finally drop, lying limp, and still, you feel it deep within—the thrusting as he beats your sorry cunt into an aching mess, then fills you up with awful warmth.
♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Naoya
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere boyfriend#boyfriend#boyfriend scenarios
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Thinking about how lucky it is that Shen Qingqiu (SY version) never gave Luo Binghe the wrong impression that he wanted a harem.
Like imagine they've having a conversation and Shen Qingqiu makes some offhanded comment about a harem is all well and good, but he thinks it should definitely be of a manageable size, hint hint, with individuals who get along harmoniously and support their primary spouse, hint hint, and marrying almost everyone you hook up with is just bad form because it's inevitably going to cause friction and it'd be nearly impossible to properly look after that many extra spouses, hint hint.
Luo Binghe picks up on the hints but draws the entirely incorrect conclusions. Combined with his previous inquiries into what kinds of women his shizun likes (SQQ, not wanting to ever be seen as LBH's potential romantic rival and eager to free himself of the original's lecherous reputation: I have no interest in any women whatsoever!) and some subtle inquiries about when a person should settle down (SQQ, with unexamined anxiety at the prospect of his dear disciple heading out into the world: not too soon! a man should establish himself well and figure out what he likes first, and take his time!), Luo Binghe concludes that his master has been biding his time and is building up to constructing a reasonably-sized harem of malewives.
Because apparently, Shizun believes that a man in a position of significant power should inevitably want such things. And disciple Binghe isn't thinking of "a position of significant power" as "effective god-emperor of the whole world", his current ideas of such things are more along the lines of "peak lord" really. Also why should Shen Qingqiu make so many comments about how Luo Binghe must surely be anxious to start taking lovers or daydreaming about having a billion wives unless he just thinks that's the standard for everyone? Because that's what he wants?
It was chaotic enough when just one of these guys was bracing himself for the inevitable harem-building, but if Binghe also expected he was going to have to supply Shen Qingqiu with a stable of other men, hoo boy. Binghe telling himself that he's fine with it. As long as he's first wife, Shizun can have others. Getting particularly vicious towards new guys Shen Qingqiu meets, like okay he's resigned himself to Liu Qingge, and probably maybe also Yue Qingyuan, and in those cases definitely having to fight them tooth and nail for primary spouse position (his plan is to become the undisputed master of the domestic sphere and thereby outrank them on that front, even if he can't beat their peak lord credentials), but anyone else is someone he can potentially chase off and Shizun will still have his reasonably-sized harem. If Gongyi Xiao wants into the harem he's going to have to earn it, and he's getting bottom of the pecking order!
Binghe, after they finally get together, trying to have frank discussions about the inevitable harem. Shen Qingqiu putting on a brave face because he, of course, thinks Binghe's talking about his own harem. Getting confused as to why Liu Qingge is suddenly factoring into the conversation. Then reaching entirely the wrong conclusion because oh right, Binghe is gay now and Liu Qingge is extremely pretty. Makes sense! Definitely not what Binghe means but it makes sense!
Actually this would be a hilarious way for bingliushen OT3 to happen. Just a complete comedy of errors where bingqiu are both trying to secure Liu Qingge for each other without ever concretely establishing that either of them wants him, even though they think they have.
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heat
part two of "cottontail"
CW: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, heavily suggestive, profanity, bunny mutation + spring = fun times, girl imma do my best, this took forever, might be a little long, etc.
As much as he hated to admit it, Logan was worried about you.
In his two-hundred years of living, he had never met someone as hot-headed and brash as you—and that was saying something. But as your you-appointed new best pal, he resigned himself to making sure you didn't piss off the wrong people.
Though it was a nice change of role, seeing as he wasn't the loose canon for once, he couldn't help but begin to grow significantly concerned for your safety.
It wasn't that you were a bad person, far from it, in fact.
Always greeting him with a sweet mornin', Logan!
Always checking up on him after missions.
Always inviting him to "sparring sessions", which would inevitably turn into you two striking up conversation about anything and everything under the sun.
Not to mention you were a humongous flirt—Jean called it being "overly friendly".
She noted that you didn't flirt with any other guys like you did him.
You always gave him those cheeky smiles that seemed to irk him to no end, and put that flirty lilt in your voice when you spoke. Not to mention the constant compliments, which would stick with him for days, sometimes weeks.
But that all stopped about a week ago.
After a day of you acting incredibly off—no jokes, no laughter, little talking—Ororo said you suddenly came down with a "spring cold", but that you'd be up and at 'em soon.
Well, soon hadn't come yet, and Logan hadn't heard anything from you in days.
A spring cold couldn't last this long...
Was it the flu? Was it something else?
And why did everyone else seem so unbothered by it?
These thoughts swam in his head every time he passed your locked door.
Until he finally had enough.
The night everyone went out for a field trip to the county fair, Logan stayed back, opting to visit your quarters with a few choice words, and a container of chicken noodle soup.
When he reached your door, he gave it a soft rap.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Only after a third—more aggressive—knock, did you finally answer.
"Yeah?" you called, your voice low and croaky.
He'd never heard you sound so defeated, and almost... pained.
It made something pang in his chest.
"That must be some cold," he quipped, attempting to play off the feeling with humor.
"Logan?" you asked, sounding shocked. "What are you... What do you want?"
"I just came to give you some soup. Jean told me it's good," he answered, glancing down at the bag in his hand. "S'been a while since I've heard from you."
He waited for a response, but when you never gave one, he began to feel stupid.
This was a mistake.
"Look, I can just leave it outside the door if you don't wanna—"
"No," you interrupted, still sounding strained. "You can come in. Just leave it on my dresser."
A little confused by your tone, he entered nonetheless, boots clicking against the hardwood.
And what he found was concerning.
Your room was a mess—furniture askew, clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor, a rumpled mess of sheets on the bed.
The smell in the air was thick with sweat and something else. He looked toward the king-sized bed where a heap sat hunched underneath the sheets
"(y/n)?" Logan called, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he placed the bag on the dresser.
"Don't come over here!"
You sounded so distressed, in such discomfort.
What's going on?
Why did you sound like you were in trouble?
Ignoring your warning, he slowly stalked closer to the bed, taking slow, tentative steps—now able to hear your soft whimpers and grunts of pain.
"(y/n)?" he questioned, firmly.
You stirred, reacting to his voice, breathing raggedly as if you couldn't get any air in your lungs.
"(y/n), what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I can help."
But you turned away, the sheets shifting with you.
"You can't," you whined, "You can't."
Patience running thin, Logan stormed over and snatched the sheets off of you. And there, under the covers, he saw you with his own two eyes.
You were curled into yourself, tail significantly fluffier than he remembered, and ears droopier than he'd ever seen.
Through your thin tank top, he could see your nipples were hard and perky, the shorts you were wearing barely covering your ass cheeks.
'Goddamn...'
When you looked at him, your face flushed red, pupils dilated beyond belief as you covered your face with embarrassment.
You trembled in your skin, tail twitching with discomfort and unease.
"I told you not to come over here," you panted, curling further into yourself. "Didn't want you to see me like this..."
You winced, squeezing your thighs together tight, looking to be in complete agony.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm in heat," you sighed, the cat pretty much out of the bag. "S'cause of my mutation. I can do everything a rabbit can, and go through everything a rabbit goes through. No matter how fucking stupid."
You wiped the sweat off your forehead, your curly hair soaked in it.
"S'why I've been hiding," you explained. "I've been tryna get through this, but I just... can't!"
Now he understood.
Your absence, your uneasiness, the smell of something in the air.
You were horny.
"How long's it last?" Logan curiously asked.
"Depends. Could be a week, could be a month..."
"A month?" he stated, surprised. "Are you in pain?"
Your face screwed tight, triggering something in his core.
"Yes," you groaned, hugging yourself closer.
You looked away from him, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pained him.
He had to help.
"What can I do?" he suggested.
You turned to him, eyes widening. "What?" you asked. "What do you—"
"I wanna help you, cottontail," he cut in, already kicking off his boots and taking off his leather jacket to reveal his sexy, white wife-beater. "So tell me what I gotta do."
You watched him, looking completely stunned and mortified, but your pussy throbbed at the sight of his outfit.
"No, no, Logan," you protested. "Y-You can't... you don't need to do this."
But he stood firm in his decision, refusing to leave you.
"I know I don't need to," he firmly responded. "I can't let you go on like this."
"It's okay..." you assured. "It'll probably be done by the end of the week. You don't—"
Before you could even finish, his hand grabbed your face, pulling you close and squeezing your cheeks, his tone demanding.
"Don't protest. Don't argue. Don't push me away... Just let me take care of you, alright?"
His gorgeous brown eyes, filled with the promises of safety and acceptance, bore into yours.
How could you deny him?
"Okay," you caved, leaning into his touch.
"Good girl," he cracked a smile, lips suddenly swooping yours up in a firm kiss.
You let out a soft, eager moan as he scooped you up in his arms, the man letting out a quiet chuckle when you squeaked, your feet dangling off the ground.
While still kissing you, he sat himself down on the bed and plopped you in his lap. His soft lips and tongue made you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his jeans.
"Can I touch your ears?" he whispered, breathless. "'N' your tail?"
Gently, his hand moved down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curled, your body tingling from the sensation.
"Y-Yes," you shakily replied. "Go ahead."
And when his fingers began to lightly brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you nearly had a full body orgasm, your pussy growing wetter with each pass.
"Fuck..." you gasped. "Yes, just like that..."
Logan smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure, his ego growing with each whimper.
"Like that?" he asked, teasingly, his cock throbbing at the sound of your pitiful whine in response.
Over these past few months, he'd had countless dreams about having you just like this. And now that he was, he could say with certainty that it was far better than any fantasy.
Gently, one of his big hands slid down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties, while the other continued to stroke your ears.
Your mouth fell agape, pleasure coursing through you.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, tilting your head back as his fingers ghosted over your clit.
You began to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Logan on even more.
"Needy little thing..." he chuckled, amused. "Adorable."
Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly came apart at the seams. But before you could, he pulled away, scooping you up with one arm, much to your surprise and arousal, and sliding himself further down the bed.
With a grin, he dropped his head into the pillows, shifting and forcing you to hover over his face.
"M'gonna taste you, now," he stated, as if it was a fact.
You whined in response, moving to grab the headboard as he pulled your panties to the side, giving your pussy a quick peck before completely dropping you on top of him.
"Logan!" you half-moaned, half-screamed, eyes blown wide with pleasure.
You tried to brace yourself, but it wasn't long before he made you a writhing, whimpering, whining mess.
"Ah, Lo, yes!" you cried. "Oh, fuck! Right fuckin' there! Right fuckin' there!"
You were loud and vocal, much to his enjoyment.
He was having the time of his life, massaging your ass and sucking your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin.
He even groaned and grunted into your pussy about how good you tasted, only making you wetter at seeing such a stoic man lose his shit over you.
"You want a finger, baby?" he growled, voice slightly muffled. "Talk to me. Tell me what chu want."
"Please," you whimpered. "Fuck me, Logan! Make me come!"
Logan smiled, slowly inserting one of his thick fingers into your hole while his lips gently sucked on your clit.
You nearly screamed, bawling at the pleasure.
"Oh, my God!" you sobbed. "Shit, Logan, I'm gonna... I'm gonna.."
Your orgasm slammed into you without a second thought, drawing a string of slutty moans out as you came all over Logan's tongue.
"That's my good girl," he smirked into your pussy. "So fuckin' good f'me."
Your orgasm was so strong that you began to tremble, the aftershocks taking over your body.
The release helped with the pain... but it still wasn't enough.
You needed more.
Suddenly, he took hold of your chin, staring into your eyes as if he could peer right into your head.
"Do you want more?" he asked, cockily.
Slowly, you nodded, tears pricking your eyes at how much to needed this.
"Yes, Logan," you pleaded, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. "Please give it to me. I don't care how you take me. Just please..."
That was all he needed to hear.
He gave you exactly what you wanted and more. The man fucked you, and he fucked you good. He gave your little body everything it needed to knock out those horny thoughts and relieve you of your heat.
In almost every position, too.
He fucked you in missionary while standing up, his hips pistoning into yours while your feet dangled in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that had you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his handsome face contort in pleasure.
He fucked you while standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucked you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss.
He fucked you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your ass cheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hiked up to get deeper.
He fucked you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back on his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounded into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezed and griped him for dear life. When you tried to rub your clit, he smacked it away and rubbed your pussy for you.
“Uh-uh,” he growled. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?”
You didn't even answer—you couldn't. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Logan needs as he fucked you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you.
When you felt your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and came all over Logan's cock.
Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Logan gripped you tighter and pounded into you without mercy, until he finally released, too.
“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his loud groans and grunts echoing throughout the room, triggering another mini-orgasm that made your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs.
Logan came deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. He even had enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you.
A smile stretched across your face as the aftershocks began, practically melting into the sheets.
You were sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum...but you’d never been more satisfied or happier in your life.
Logan finally settled down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gave you a small smile, his face hot with stray hairs sticking to his forehead.
“Better now?” he murmured, gently stroking down your back.
You wordlessly nodded, a small, tired hum leaving your lips.
“Good,” he nodded, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Get some rest.”
And just like that, you were out like a light, softly snoring into his chest, your body curled into his side.
You couldn't wait for next spring...
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.
Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."
He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.
He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.
He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.
The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.
He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.
You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."
You just walk by.
You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.
Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.
#the magnus archives#jonathan sims#fanfiction#fanfic#story#story snippet#story ideas#somewhere else#tma#might make another post about martin if the inspiration strikes me#also i've never actually been in a support group so#sorry
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Happiness advice is hard to compose, since we're all born with different brains, producing different chemicals in different quantities at different levels of efficiency.
"Try regular exercise!" chirrups an influencer whose brain has never known a day of depression in its squiggly grey life.
But I do think I've noticed behaviours that poison joy, and I haven't ever heard it as advice. My theory: bullying is bad for your happiness.
Of the four types of bullying, three of them - intimidation, humiliation and harassment - are usually committed by insecure people, trying to make themselves feel more powerful by taking that power from another.
(The fourth type of bullying is exclusion, and I have no citations for any of this, since it's just a bunch of stuff I reckon. I do think I'm right though, for what it's worth.)
The least happy comedians I've met are the ones who smoke weed in their flats while watching and scoffing at clips of their rivals. Their enemies. Their friends.
I'm slightly transfixed by the story of a relatively well-known comedian who became obsessed with the Instagram stories of an amateur comic. The established comic would watch the videos, share them with friends, play them at parties - mocking the comic's lack of self-awareness.
This newer comedian wasn't internet famous or anything. Just a guy starting out, trying his hand.
To operate like this, you must believe that some people have value, and others do not. Once you've decided this, how can you expect your brain to permanently accept that you're one of the worthy? You can make yourself feel powerful in the short term by humiliating another. But in the long term, you curate a worldview where a person's eccentricities are a reason they deserve to suffer.
Good luck enjoying what you see in the mirror.
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dead on main#dead on main ship#alcohol
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LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader
- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.
- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....
- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912
When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.
“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.
“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”
You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize.
“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.
“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?”
You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!”
You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?”
You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”
He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.
Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better.
But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,
“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”
“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”
You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too.
“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.
“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”
You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso.
“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon.
But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr#hsr x reader#honkai#star rail#honkai x reader#star rail x reader#aventurine#kakavasha#boothill#aventurine x reader#aventurine hsr#kakavasha x reader#kakavasha hsr#boothill hsr#boothill x reader
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Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.
He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.
His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.
So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.
It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.
The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.
So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.
He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.
He learned braille.
Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?
So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.
As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.
⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑
Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.
Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.
"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.
The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.
He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.
"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"
But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.
Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.
He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.
"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.
Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.
"Can't hear too good."
His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.
Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.
He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.
He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.
Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?
Steve furrows his brows.
I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?
Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.
The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.
Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!
Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.
What did you say? I'd like to know :)
Steve worries his bottom lip.
Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.
I thought you'd never ask, Steve.
#Some steddie au to soothe soul#canon typical violence for Steve tho#eddie's migraine wear inspired by my migraine wear#we wear sunglasses inside bitch#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#hard of hearing steve harrington#steddie au
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The Devil Wears Glasses (m)
Synopsis. you were a bitch and he was your puppy.
Pairing: jungkook x Reader
Genre: bully au, mature. Fluff, angst.
warnings: sêxǔäl thèmès, YÂNDÈRÈ, dïrty thêmês, büllyïng, másôchïst kôôk, mâtürè thèmès, jèálôúsy, pôsèssïvènèss, pröfânïty.
note. OH MY GOD GUYS I JUST KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE HIM. HE’S SO UNPREDICTABLE AND THERE’S A HUGE SURPRISE SO LOOK OUT FOR THAT. ;) you can send asks for him, so let’s welcome a new jk into the multi.
You are such a bitch.
Oh you are the bitchiest person to ever grace this planet. How can you be so insensitive? You are heartless.
You deserve to burn in the deep flames of hell. Do you even have a heart? Were you even a human at this point? You could be a witch. Oh! Yes, that must be it, because...
You have got him tranced.
What does he even see in you? Jungkook is not sure, You are only a pretty face, with a hot smokin body, But that was about it.
He should hate your guts because he hates people like you.
Because you are a bully.
And he is a sweetheart. An innocent young man. While? You are the spawn of the devil. There you stand right in front of him, Jungkook fixes his glasses, feeling so nervous.
His heart is thumping, so loud.
“Puppy!” You call out to him, his eyes widen, you’re right in front of him and his mind is going blank. He stands tall over you, but you’re the one who is in control.
It’s so obvious and ironic.
You’re so pretty. And that cruel smile on your face, is making his pants grow tighter. Fuck, you’re not supposed to have this effect on him.
“P-Please don’t pity me.” He utteres in a small voice. You raised your eyebrow as your “friend” giggles.
“Oh, aren’t you a little masochist, puppy?” You coo at him, leaning in and whispering the words in his ears. He shudders, goosebumps on his neck. A sadistic laugh leaves your lips. Your eyes fall on his face.
Red as a tomato.
He seems to be lost as you trail your freshly manicured fingers on his rather hard chest. Your finger stops for a moment, can’t believe that you’re feeling his chest up.. right in front of your friend.
Yes, he works out.. it’s important.
Your touch feels so good- oh, someone help him.
He looks up in surprise, his doe eyes widen as he closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. “God.. this is all? A simple touch is all that’s needed to bring out the sick bastard in you?”
Your tone is mocking, cold.
He bites his lip, your words are crude but so true.
“You better complete the project, jungkook. Or else.” You spit in sarcasm, your eyes hardening, his heart flutters, He is pathetic.
He quickly nod. “y-yes I will, Y-Y-Y/N!!! I-I promise, p-please don’t get angry with m-me....” he pouts as you roll your eyes and leave him alone with your friend.
He watches with heart eyes as you walk towards the other direction of the school hallway with your minion.
God. You have such a bouncy ass, and such pretty legs. He blushes shamelessly, watching you move, his sudden lewd thoughts that surround his mind are making him feel a little embarrassed,
But you’re just so perfect.
You’ve got a perfect body, And a worth dying for laugh too?
Your laugh makes him weak in the knees. No, just a glance from you is all it takes to make him fall on his knees.
The way you walk, and the way that your hips sway make his mouth water. He stands still on his spot as his hand finds itself touching his chest, where you touched him.
He smiles, You touched him!!! Again! Was it the third time or fourth? He needed to know!!! He needed to write it down.
He needed to! But.. first, he needed to give you the already completed project. He smirks.
He turns to walk where you are now.
Slowly and cautiously.
...he feels like a really bad boy for lying to you... but as much as he deserves to be punished.. he can’t bring himself to give a fuck.
And also... if he didn’t lie then how would he get to see your pretty face and feel your touch? And listen to you cuss him.
God.. that turns him on so much.
Your pretty mouth saying such dirty words... he gulps quickly. His throat is getting dry.
But he adores it the most when you called him puppy.
That was so romantic!! It was such a lovely term of endearment. His heart flutters abnormally when you called him that.
He is your puppy. “gah, I love her so much.” He gushes to himself as he walkea slowly. “She’s so lovely.. I’m going crazy.” He breathes. Walking so carelessly, lost in his fantasies as he bumped into a person.
It was yunho.
His right hand man. Jungkooks face does a complete 180 change, now, jaw clenched and his eyes... hard. “Watch where you’re going, fucker. This was the First and last time. I’ll fucking shoot you next time.” He growls in a dangerously low tone.
Making sure that you can’t hear him.
Yunho eyes widen with fear. “I-I am so sorry Sir but... this was important..” he stutters. Looking down at the floor. The weight of jungkooks murderous eyes on him is making him regret every single decision in his life.
Jungkook looks around to see that the whole hall was finally empty. Everyone has gone to their classes, even you, he scoffs in annoyance.
This fucker is going to die.
“Spit.”
“W-We found him. The guy you asked for...”
Jungkook smirks. “Great.” at least now he will get to get his frustrations out on someone, he doesn’t exactly appreciate your stupid bitchy attitude, but- you manage to get him hard so.
Oh today is really a great day, Now he could finally be his real self. He’s getting tired of hiding to you, of course. It’s just been awhile since he got to kill someone.
He loves being always be your ever so loyal puppy, but now it’s about time he makes you his bitch.
But to the underworld. He was Jeon Jungkook.
The biggest fucking gang leader of South Korea.
Jungkook fixes his glasses once again, these glasses are fucking annoying- he needs to take them off- his eyesight is perfectly fine, but he looks cute in them like you said-
“where is my fucking homework?” He asks.
He only does your homework, and his people do his, sometimes he’s not sure what the fuck he’s doing.
he doesn’t even understand what he’s doing here because he doesn’t need to study. He just needs to take care of the business, but ever since you caught his eye when he was visiting this University, since his mother had insisted.
He wanted to be with you.
“I-I have it in my bag!”
“Fuck off now.” He growls, and Yunho doesn’t need to be told twice.
Oh, the things Jungkook does for you. It’s OK.. once he has you? You are going to find out about everything. Just a little bit more.
You were just the spawn of the devil. But he was the fucking devil himself.
#jungkook smut#bts smut#jjk smut#yandere bts#yandere jjk#yandere jungkook#jungkook x reader#smut#yandere x reader#yandere smut#jungkook x you#jungkook ff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jjk fluff#jjk angst#bts x reader#bts ff#bts fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkokk x yn#bts x yn#bangtan smut#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeongguk smut#jungkook fluff
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He has never been afraid of dying.
Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).
Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.
Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.
"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"
He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before
"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.
"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."
How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!
"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."
And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).
He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.
He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.
Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.
And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.
"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"
And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!
~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"
Masterlist
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#bnha x reader#jjk angst#bnha angst#megumi x reader#gojo x reader#itadori x reader#inumaki x reader#nanami x reader#todoroki x reader#bakugou x reader#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#kirishima x reader#aizawa x reader#hawks x reader#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojo angst
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can we please have more coworker JAMES 💜
james calls you something he maybe shouldn’t | fem
You’re feeling at a James-given mark when Sirius appears.
You don’t know Sirius half as well as you know James nor Remus, but you’re ninety five percent sure he’s a good guy. He’s funny at lunch, whenever Remus has managed to convince you to go with them. He’s like James in terms of scandal. They like making bad jokes. Sirius really likes making Remus laugh, so he must be nice.
“Hey,” he says, “where are they?”
You nod toward the boss’ office. “Presenting the last of the Lang and Co.”
“Oh, right.” Sirius moves in to James’ desk. He knocks one of his figurines over purposefully, then moves one to have its face in the other’s backside.
“I’ll have to tell him that was you,” you say.
“Rat. Why?”
“He’ll think it was me otherwise, and then–” He won’t kiss me later, you’d been about to say. James has grown suddenly and enthusiastically fond of withholding affection whenever you mess with him. As a joke, of course, but you refuse to risk your lunchtime kiss. “You know what he’s like with me.”
Sirius smiles oddly. “I do.”
He sits at James’ desk. Ever since you and James… started whatever it is you’re doing, things have been raw for you. Maybe you’re stupid, it’s only kisses, but you’re sort of thinking it isn’t. Like, this is dating. You might not be boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’re exclusive.
James is too good, and some small part of you doesn’t like admitting it, but the bigger part (the part that wants to kiss him and be kissed by him) knows it surely. How could you have grown to fancy him otherwise?
“Doing anything fun this weekend?” you ask.
“Not likely,” Sirius says, tucking hair behind his ears. “We’re all helping Remus’ dad paint the house. It’s a tiny thing n’ it won’t take long, but he lives in Aberystwyth. S’gonna take hours to get there and he wants to stay up there ‘cos his dad gets lonely.” Sirius scratches his jaw. “His dad’s nice, mind. I don’t mind going up there. Just hate being stuck in the car when James is driving.”
You won’t see James this weekend, then. He hadn’t mentioned it. “It’s beautiful in Aberystwyth. Maybe you can go to the beach,” you say.
“That’s what I’m trying to convince them to do.” Sirius grins.
“Not the best weather.”
“It’s always nicer up there. We spent a lot of time up there, you know, in the summers. We ping-ponged between Remus’ house and James’ parents.”
“Do they live there too?” you ask.
“Nowhere near.” Sirius laughs, a deep, rich sound. “You think I’d be used to long drives.”
“Where’s James from?”
“My parents live deep in the West Country,” James says, his hands sudden on the back of your chair.
Fuck, you think. You had no idea he was coming, distracted by Sirius and the patter of rain against the window. “You creeper.”
“You’re the creeper. Grilling dear Siri for details on my personal life.” James dives for a biscuit from the plastic packaging laid out on your desk and then away from you. “If you want to know where to send your fan mail, just ask me, sweetheart.”
“How do you sneak up on me like that?” you ask.
The space between your chair and the wall isn’t super tight, but it’s still weird to think he’d approached from the right and you hadn’t noticed. Just, James isn’t generous with details about himself and you’re too timid in your standing with him to ask.
“Practice… Sirius, what have you don’t to my little women!”
“I thought they were boys?” Sirius says.
“That gives you no right to knock them over and make them do frankly obscene things to one another. This is a workplace.” James knocks Sirius out of the way, desk chair and all, to set each of his little green figurines onto their feet. The ones that are standing, that is. The sleeping one he puts back in pride of place underneath his computer’s monitor.
“She told me not to,” Sirius says, not looking at anyone now, peering backward toward the office. “But I didn’t listen, don’t blame our sweet Y/N.”
“I wasn’t going to.” James sends you a secret smile.
“She wouldn’t physically withheld me if I weren’t so devilishly fast.” Sirius’ voice warms. “Hello, darling.”
Remus huffs as he sets down a huge binder of paper. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
The tone he uses is so tender, so soft, you aren’t jealous of Remus but you’re not far from it, either. Remus’ frowning is quick to turn up at the sight of his meddling boyfriend. It must be nice to see someone and have them make a bad day good.
You look up, finding James paused with a hand on his desk. He’s looking at you, impassive.
“You okay?” you ask him.
He squints, wrinkles his nose. “Fine. Got shouted at a bit for the reports. Bet you’re glad you have a twisted ankle.” You’re confused at first, then caught. James’ wrinkled face darkens to glare at you. “You lied?”
“I really didn’t wanna see him today.” Your boss sucks.
“And we did? Remus, we’ve been betrayed.”
“James, I knew she was lying, I just don’t care.” Remus rubs his face. “Why shouldn’t one of us escape him?”
Sirius takes Remus’ empty hand hanging at his side, picture of a concerned lover.
James, on the other hand, steals another biscuit despite your laughing protesting and nimbly switches off your monitor.
“Had enough,” James says. Turned away from the boys, he smiles at you playfully, hand twitching at his side like he wants to give you a squeeze. Or a shove. “Your betrayal is noted.”
“Mm.” You take a third biscuit from your pack to offer him.
He takes it, letting his knuckles brush under your arm before pulling away. “And filed away for a later date.”
When Sirius has pulled Remus away for another early lunch, James retakes his chair and slides as close to you as he can be. He looks for your hand under the desk. You pretend it’s just casually there on your knee and not waiting for him to hold.
“My dad’s family is very well off,” he says, rubbing your index finger with his thumb, “so the estate is huge. They own a lot of land, but he’s not, like, a lord or anything. You’d love it down there though, it’s nice.”
“I bet I would.”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“No, I’m not, I know you’re rich.”
“Not that sort of surprise. It would be nice to go down there together.” He can tell he’s getting ahead of himself and backtracks. “Well, this weekend I’m going to gorgeous Aberystwyth and you’re…”
“Doing laundry.”
“Well,” he says quietly, “maybe you can make some time Sunday night after all of that and we can get a late dinner.”
“I thought I was in trouble over the twisted ankle.”
“Who could be in trouble for an injury?” James sandwiches your hand in his.
“Fake injury.”
“Oh, my girl,” he murmurs, almost inaudible, “so honest. No punishment on account of owning up to it.”
Great. My girl and he’s going away for the weekend. James Potter’s your personal nightmare.
—
james coworker au
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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Dancing Through Life
Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader
Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.
A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).
I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!
It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.
I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.
Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.
I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.
“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.
“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.
I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.
“It’s Friday.” He continued.
I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.
“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.
“This is fun to me.”
“School work is fun?”
“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”
“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”
“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”
“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”
“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”
“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.
“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”
I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room to find another book.”
“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”
“No.”
I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.
“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”
He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.
“Hey give that back!”
I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.
“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”
Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”
I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?
“Princess?”
“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.
I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.
“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you two are a thing.”
Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”
My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.
“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.
That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.
I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.
“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”
“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.
“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.
“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”
I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”
I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.
“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.
“No I’d rather not.”
I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.
“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.
“How?”
“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”
“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”
“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”
“I’ll pass.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left her at home.”
Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.
“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.
Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”
I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”
“It’s beautiful.”
I stopped walking and choked on air.
“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.
“Which way is your room?”
I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.
“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.
“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.
“Y/n.”
Fiyero smiled at my response.
“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”
I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.
“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”
Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.
“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”
His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.
He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.
—————————
I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.
“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.
“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.
“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.
“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.
“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”
“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.
“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”
“Fiyero.”
Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.
“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”
“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”
I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.
When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.
Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.
Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.
“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.
“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.
“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”
“Oh?!”
“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”
“Hmm hmm.”
“Nothing else happened!”
“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“Why-“
“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”
Ezra looped his arm with mine.
“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”
“I’m not going to—“
“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”
Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.
“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.
“Well go on.” He prompted.
I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.
—————————
Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.
The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.
Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.
“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.
“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”
I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”
“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”
“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.
“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”
“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”
“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.
“Yeah him too.”
Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.
I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.
“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Alright then. Princess.”
“Y/n.” I corrected him
“Princess Y/n.”
I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.
“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”
“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”
“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”
I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.
“Not a chance.”
“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”
“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.
“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”
Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.
“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.
He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.
One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.
At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.
“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.
“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.
“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.
“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”
I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.
“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”
“I can for you.”
Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.
He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.
“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”
“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.
Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.
“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.
Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.
At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.
I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”
“Shut up.” I mouthed back.
“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.
I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.
Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.
#wicked#fiyero tigelaar#fiyero tigelaar x reader#galinda upland#wicked galinda#wicked fiyero#wicked film#winkie prince#ozdust ballroom#dancing through life
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A fun question your opinion: In each arc, what do you think is the theme of each arc? ( It can be a motif, messages, subject)
These are a mix of jokes and serious thoughts ^^ just to avoid the post from being too heavy overall!
The Rose-Red Tyrant:
Breaking free from perpetuating a cycle of abuse
You are your own person, not a puppet controlled by your parent/guardian
At the same time, you have to take accountability for your own actions (your background can explain your poor behavior toward others but it does not excuse that behavior)
Control that is too constrictive will only push away potential connections and experiences, keeping you isolated and complacent
Anger management classes are good for you, guys
The Usurper from the Wilds:
Let’s play fairly and be good sports!
Judging people for their merits rather than by titles or birth
What makes someone worthy to lead is noble behavior and attiude
Standing up for what’s morally right, even if everyone else seems to be against you
You have value, worth, and hope in spite of what others may tell you and put you down for
It’s totally okay to get revenge on the asshole that tripped you that one time/j
It’s technically not a crime if you don’t get caught (except Leona did, in fact, get caught)
The Merchant from the Depths:
Don’t be ashamed of your past self—embrace it, accept it, and use it as a point of reference for self growth
Be the bigger person rather than becoming a bully yourself
Let your accomplishments speak for themselves
There is no “easy way out” or shortcut; be prepared to face the consequences of your actions
Not everything is as it may seem (think about the “trick” with Azul’s contracts)
… Read the terms and conditions very carefully and think things over before you sign a contract 💀
Schemer of the Scalding Sands:
Wow, this baby can fit so much generational trauma!!
Sometimes you just miss each other’s messages or greatly misinterpret the other’s intentions (Kalim giving Jamil the benefit of the doubt, Jamil obviously being the Bad Guy and everyone else has to point that out to Kalim)
There’s a very complicated relationship between those in power and those without power; this can breed hatred for those at the top
Talent and skill left unacknowledged can fester into resentment
Institutions of higher education can and will accept monetary bribes, what are you gonna do about it?
Not everyone wants to reconcile and make friends; this is okay and should be more normalized
A Beautiful Tyrant:
You can try your best and work hard, but life doesn’t owe you anything (depressing thought, but unfortunately true)
Beauty is not limited to just one’s looks; beauty can also extend to one’s character and actions
Your worth shouldn’t come from external forces; if you are satisfied with yourself, you will always be “beautiful” no matter how you look or what losses you may experience
Public opinion and the entertainment industry are brutal af
Screw gender norms 😤
The Watchman of the Underworld:
The grieving process in general
Moving on from the past instead of fixating on it and letting the past consume your present and hold you back from a future
Learning to forgive yourself
Reaching out and making new support systems/opening up to others to help you cope
Bearing the sins of your ancestors (Shroud family curse)
The Lord of Malevolence:
Change is inevitable, all good things must come to an end; we must learn to accept them and bravely move toward the future
Love endures, transcending race (Sebek), blood (Silver), and time (Lilia)
Self-sacrificial love (Maleanor for Malleus, Lilia for the other Diasomnia boys, Dawn Knight for his own family, etc.)
Is it “true” happiness if it is a fake reality, a convenient dream?
We hate and fear what we do not understand, even though we have the capacity to
You cannot live forever in a happy fantasy world where none of your loved ones/favorite characters leave you, your trauma doesn’t exist, and everything conveniently pans out how you want it to; sooner or later, you must “wake up” and face reality (this point is particularly meta; it applies both in-game and in the real world, speaking to us players and our relationship with the escapist fictional content we consume)
Prologue: Welcome to the Villains’ World and Overall Main Story:
The power of friendship :))
Revisionist history (cuz… y’know… Great Seven and all)
We’re stronger together than alone
It’s okay to rely on others
We may be very different people from very different backgrounds, but it is still possible for us to understand one another
#twisted wonderland#twst#Riddle Rosehearts#Leona Kingscholar#Jamil Viper#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#notes from the writing raven#question#Azul Ashengrotto#Idia Shroud#Vil Schoenheit#Malleus Draconia#prologue spoilers#book 1 spoilers#book 2 spoilers#book 3 spoilers#book 4 spoilers#book 5 spoilers#book 6 spoilers#book 7 spoilers#Kalim Al-Asim#Scarabia#Sebek Zigvolt#Silver#Diasomnia#Lilia Vanrouge#Maleanor Draconia#Meleanor Draconia#Dawn Knight
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THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!
by the way... why did you kiss me?
it seemed like a good idea at the time.
that's called stealing, you know.
is it dangerous?
stop it! you'll kill them!
get me a glass of bourbon.
this just keeps getting better and better.
this door doesn't open.
who opened that chest?
i only want four!
the map! i forgot the map!
i think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. i don't like him one bit.
i guess we go home empty-handed... again.
look what i got.
i think you found something.
what exactly is this man in prison for?
you just got promoted.
you're with me on this one, right?
keep him busy.
we are in serious trouble.
this creature is the bringer of death.
you must not read from the book!
where are they taking him?
there's only one person i know that can possibly give us any answers.
can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?
i'm a very lonely man.
look at my library!
you're gonna get yours, [name]!
never did like camels.
what do you suppose killed him?
time to go.
take my hand, and i will spare your friends.
will you look at that?
do they know something we don't?
i need a new job.
have you no respect for the dead?
i've dreamt about this since i was a little girl.
you dream about dead guys?
patience is a virtue.
any last requests?
loosen the knot and let me go.
i don't think we need to know this.
ooh... that's gotta hurt.
you... i just don't get.
you probably won't live through it.
everybody else we've bumped into has died. why not you?
you're wondering... what is a place like me doing in a girl like this?
yeah, i was there.
can you swim?
of course we don't let him go!
you'll be dead when they do this.
i think i'll kill you.
think of my children.
i only gamble with my life, never my money.
i may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, but i am proud of what i am.
give me frogs! flies! locusts! anything but you!
compared to you, the other plagues were a joy.
i am so very sorry. it was an accident.
you are a catastrophe.
oh my god, i hate it when these things do that.
is he supposed to look like that?
of course i can swim, if the occasion calls for it.
now, because of you, we have failed.
you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?
what did you say?
i don't want to tell you.
let me get this straight.
you don't have any children.
you lied to me.
i lie to everybody.
what makes you so special?
sorry. didn't mean to scare you.
the only thing that scares me are your manners.
have you got any bright ideas?
i'm thinking. i'm thinking!
you'd better think of something fast.
what are we going to do?
wait here! i'll go get help!
i thought you said you didn't believe in all this fairy tales and hokum stuff.
forget it! we're out the door, we're down the hall, and we're gone!
i told you not to play around with that thing.
you heard the man. no mortal weeapons can kill this guy.
listen! we've got to do something!
is that my problem?
i appreciate you saving my life and all, but when i signed on, i agreed to take you out there and bring you back. end of job, end of story, contract terminated.
that's all i am to you? a contract?
you can either tag along with me or stay here and try to save the world.
do something!
you know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.
what's the challenge then?
rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, and save the world.
death is only the beginning.
why are you going back?
i'm going downstairs to get me a drink. you want something?
#rp meme#mcflymemes#rp memes#rp prompt#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#rp starters#the mummy#roleplay inbox prompts#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#sentence starters
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