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#13 years of the same place at the same time learning the same things and im finally finished
natsunenuko · 2 days
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TW // mental issues, mental absue, harassment, surgery/blood
I'm sorry this one is so long, but please carry on reading. It's a chance for me to not only speak about the situation but let out some steam too. It is unfortunate this announcement comes at the same time the flood occurs on the south of my home country (Poland) and I'm in the endangered zone, luckily so far safe, as I feel my head can't handle more stress.
It's been so long since I've been this personal online. I realized how I didn't feel the urge to vent for 3-4 years by now which is a sign of improving mental health. But my healing is still a process, and I'm afraid it's too hard to carry this rock alone at this point. I fought my thoughts if I should do this and I think just as deeply as I write right now. Yet, I know it's better late than never and I thank deeply my friends for helping me out recently as well as in the past in my lowest. I wholeheartedly owe my life to you.
I couldn't ask for better friends. As years verified, even long lasting relationships might be nothing but a mask and I had to learn the hard way. I ended a friendship of 13 years at the time over a misunderstanding. Other person I put my trust on was nothing but a groomer with morally corrupted sexual tendencies who would take advange of a group of minors while being the only adult among them, yet acting like a person much younger than all of them and pressuring all their mental issues on children instead of seeking help. The latter, I might speak of more in detail when I'm ready.
Long time ago I tried calling out for help but back then, the intrusive thoughts won; "Others have it worse, just work harder.", "No one will give you anything for free, no one will care.", "What people will think of you?". and I would only speak about these things in a closed circle of my friends.
I tried my best in silence by not giving up on my creative passion, working restlessly for years, improving. Hoping I could reach the point I can sustain myself purely on what I make.
But the problem is not being self-sufficient. And it's not about my art...
All of my life it has been me, my momma and my granny. The other two important figures weren't there for us, by choice. (which is hard to say if losing someone you loved is worse than not being cared for in the first place) My rather young self at the time didn't put much thought about it as I didn't understand it but something always felt wrong; my only issues at the time was being "that weird, quiet kid with little to no friends". But despite the hardships, my momma has always been my hero, working without a time for a break or rest so we could live happily, to afford something special from time to time.
However in 2014 my momma has been hospitalised and almost lost her life to wrongly treated ovarian cyst (cyst rapture), with enough blood loss to require emergency surgery...
From that point on things went downhill and the result of that we feel to this very day. To stay afloat we fell into a severe dept. (We didn't have any savings, could only rely on borrowing money or loans) And since I was a child as all of this happened, I've only learned about it all throughfully as I entered adulthood, so I wouldn't need to worry about anything and "just be a kid". Which I really understand, but it doesn't make it easier to handle.
And by now, for several years I keep on trying to earn money, so I could free my momma from this chain and let her live, not survive. I always wanted to get through this quietly, because I never, ever wanted to burden anyone with my home problems. But it grew to a point I might need to grab anything to climb towards the light
The goal is $10 000... which is scarily large number.
I list all the options but Kofi is preferred to keep track of the funds!
My commissions are HERE! (the sheet will receive a slight update in upcoming days) My Kofi is HERE! (Level 4 Tea is free headshot drawing every month!) HERE's other services I do (adopts, brushes, etc) I plan to do paid requests for my friday streams on occasion! Anything else I come up with I hope to include in here! Every person who donates will be part of "Thank you" list where I hope to shoutout everybody, cause every penny matters. I want this situation to end...
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kuromi-hoemie · 2 months
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i am once again thinking about The Boy
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not the movie lol
#give it up for day 13#how has it just been 13 days since my first time seeing him in so long#🙈💕 i like how i haven't had A Crush in a sec and the last person it was on was him lol.#there's a lot of little stuff that's changed since then abt myself and between us ig but good lord i have never been more attracted to him#than i am now 😵‍💫😵‍💫 seeing him in sweats and a sleeveless turtleneck that first day has just had him in my head every day since#like HELP he's hot 😭 but then like... so am i omg (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠) actually cleaning my place finally so i can have him over lol#i know I'm hot but at the same time i forget ykwim.. until i look in a mirror or see a picture and I'm like oh right i exist.#anyways ms ma'am is getting better at talking to her friends abt these kinds of things ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ ♡⁠#i say that there's nothing I'd do for a lover that i wouldn't do for a friend and that i just love ppl fundamentally#and i know this is my true self‚ but I'm somewhat new to living that in practice and on purpose.#I'm a little clumsy i think but no one's seemed to mind 🙈💕 i am happy that I'm learning and i am happy to deepen my friendship#and i look forward to how much easier this will be to navigate a yr from now ^.^ I've been polyamorous for a year and a half ig#and i feel like I've found my comfort zone yk? :3 ♡⁠ what being polyamorous Means To Me#it's good to be here.. i look forward to the friends i will make after i move and i wish i was more forward w the boy sooner omg#but it's okay. he won't be Too far away it's just a bit of a trip. i wanna have him over a couple times before i leave tho and hopefully#many more at the next place ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა ♡⁠ but i will visit him too hehe his family's rly nice
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miaoua3 · 2 months
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As Sweet As You
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Pairing: scoups x f!reader
Genre: oneshot, fluff, comedy
Description: seungcheol takes his daily coffee intake very seriously. so when the company coffee shop temporarily closes, he faces a very big problem. or maybe, several bigger problems.
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so, here’s the thing. seungcheol knows how pathetic he must look like. jeonghan made sure to let him know every day since he has learned about this situation, always followed up by that stupid smirk of his.
a few weeks ago, their company cafe announced that it will undergo a big renovation due to bad conditions of the pipes, which meant seungcheol needed to find a new place to buy his daily coffee intake or else he probably wouldve killed somebody in cold blood.
hey, what can he say, he’s a little grumpy in the morning, thats why he always makes sure to have his morning coffee, otherwise he will make his bad mood everybody else’s problem.
on the day he walked down his usual route to the coffee shop and saw a paper with the info about the shop being temporarily closed glued to the glass window, he was sure he was going to punch somebody that day.
thinking about what he should do since going to jail wasn’t really his top choice of activities to do on that day, he decided to walk down the block to see if there’s another coffee shop.
as he was walking, he came across an alley. he could loosely remember walking past it many times, but he has never walked in the alley itself. for some reason, seungcheol felt like something inside of it was calling his name, like it was trying to show him something.
seungcheol, never the one to ignore his instincts, walked down the alley.
and right there, on the left side of the alley, stood a little cozy looking coffee shop, a coffee shop that would forever change his life.
with almost to no thinking, seungcheol walked in.
the inside of the shop looked like something straight out of a movie. fairy lights strung along the edge of the counter, as well as on one of the walls. dark furniture was decorated with dark green accents like pillows and vases on top of the tables. on the left side, the whole wall was just a big shelf filled with books.
seungcheol felt both the moody and mysterious side of this shop, as well as its cozy and comforting side.
as he was looking around, he noticed that there wasn’t anyone around. unsure if he maybe entered during its closed hours, he decided to call out for somebody. with an unsure voice, he uttered “um hello?”
surprisingly, beneath the counter came a sweet voice, “just a moment!”
and really, after a moment, somebody popped out beneath it.
and seungcheol felt his heart come to a stop for a brief moment.
there, behind the counter, appeared what must’ve been an angel.
and then you smiled gently at him.
and the rest was history.
well, not really.
ever since that day, seungcheol has been going to your shop to buy his morning coffee, in hopes that maybe that day your conversation would go beyond him saying his order and wishing you a good day.
but seungcheol must be 13 years old mentally, because he simply can’t talk to you beyond those two topics without blushing like a teenage boy.
never has he ever felt this stupid, it literally made him want to bang his head against the wall in hopes that the force of the banging will maybe split his single remaining braincell into two braincell.
every day, while he was getting ready for work, he would stand in front of his mirror and would repeat the same words like a mantra.
“today is the day. today you will talk to her. today you will pick up your balls from the floor and ask her if she would like to grab a dinner sometimes. today is the day.”
and every day he still wouldn’t do it, no matter how much he would repeat those words.
it has become his routine.
a routine that has been kind of broken today.
because today jeonghan wanted to come with him.
and seungcheol didn’t like that one bit. but trying to stop jeonghan from doing something he dead set his mind on is right behind the word “impossible”.
as they were walking, seungcheol tried to warn his best friend.
“i swear to god jeonghan, do not even thinking about trying something”, seungcheol repeated for the nth time since they’ve met in front of their company.
jeonghan, ever the good friend, rolled his eyes. “relax, i just want to see who got your panties in a twist so much. plus, i havent had a good coffee since our shop closed.”
jeonghan’s words did nothing to calm down seungcheol.
if he knew his best friend even a little bit, he was 101% sure that he was going to do something.
and seungcheol was dreading it.
soon, they walked into the alley and a few second later, into the coffee shop.
you were stood on a ladder on the left side, cleaning the book shelf when they walked in. upon hearing the door open, you turned your head and smiled.
cheol swore he felt his heart fall down to his feet and skyrocket out of his body all in the same second you smiled. and the worst thing-he felt his cheeks get warmer, which only meant one thing, that he was blushing.
“ah i see you brought a friend with you today.” you said as you stepped down the ladder, scanning jeonghan from head to toe.
“u-um well y-yes, or, well, uh, he, uh, invited himself”, seungcheol stuttered out like an idiot and immediately regretted ever waking up today.
you chuckled as you rounded up the counter and got behind, ready to serve your costumers.
jeonghan turned his head in a way you couldn’t see his expression, but cheol certainly did, although he wished he didn’t, because nothing was quite as annoying as seeing that smirk of his.
“wow, it really is as pretty as you said it was”, he says with a smirk, obviously not talking about the shop itself, and cheol feels like not even your tasty coffee will stop him from murdering his best friend.
you chuckle lightly, a hint of blush on your cheeks, and cheol feels his heart squeeze so much that he unconsciously places his hand on top of his chest.
“thank you. now, what may i get you two?”, you say.
the two men place in their orders, jeonghan going first.
as his drink was being finished, jeonghan turned towards cheol. “i’ll wait for you outside.”, he more-so informs him.
cheol, with furrowed eyebrows, just nods at his friend.
“so, here’s your incredibly sweet drink that you for some reason like.”, you joke as you push a cup towards jeonghan.
“thank you.”, he smiles kindly at you, taking his coffee, turning around to exit the shop.
but of course, it wouldn’t be jeonghan if he kept his mouth shut for once in his life.
in the last second, he turned around and asked you “oh has this idiot asked you out already? no? oh well.”, he smiled innocently as he exited the shop this time for real.
cheol felt both the blood from his face drain and the temperature of his cheeks jump exponentially high.
for a second, you both stay silent.
and then he starts word vomiting.
“w-well, what he meant by- by that is that- see, uh, you’re obviously very p-pretty and uh, well, its presumptuous of me to think that you are single but uh, truth be told, you got my attention on the very first day i came in here so uh, i was just- i mean you can feel free to say no but, uh, i-id really like to t-take you out to a dinner, that is if you’re single of course, if not then im really sorry-“
cheol was a little too busy to notice you leaning on the counter, your chin resting on your hand, gentle smile grazing your features.
to stop his adorable rambling, you put his coffee in front of him, still resting on the counter.
and it seems to do the trick, because he stops talking all together and just looks at the coffee.
“on the house.” , you inform him.
just as he was starting to feel the disappointment seep into his bones, you speak up again.
“or well, not really. i’d really like that dinner in return for this free coffee.”, you smile blush-fully.
and so does he.
usually, he’d think of this as the end of the story, but in this case, it was just the beginning.
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urfavlarry · 6 months
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Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤
warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader
A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.
I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3
Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader
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You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.
You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.
You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.
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Tyler Hernández
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To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.
He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”
You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol
He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool
Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)
He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr
He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.
When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!
definitely praises you!!
He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!
Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it
Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3
Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.
You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.
You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.
You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.
Aiden Clark
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He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating
He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!
He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong
Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing
He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible
Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)
Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week
Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3
Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.
Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.
After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.
After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year
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The Adoptive Son. Part 4
Dick struts into Crowne Co. main office like he owns the place. He has shaped his civilian persona to be a watered-down version of Brucie Wayne, so he winked at the receptionist and offered a kind smile to the employees wandering around.
The receptionist, a lovely man named Ace, waves him to the elevator without pause, pressing the button and allowing Dick to go to Crowne's office. Danny Crowne's main office was its own floor complete with five corner desks, a joint conference office, three stylish comfortable couches, and lots of open space filled with potted plants.
Only someone with the highest clearance levels was allowed in there. Dick had been made to wait in the lobby by Ace., The first few times, he came to visit Crowne. Thankfully, his presence is so commonplace now that he was allowed in without signing in.
The elevator's door close, blocking out all noise but the soft, classical music Crowne was rather fond up. His fake boyfriend seemed to swing from one music genre to the next with little sense. He could listen to an instrumental waltz, switch to punk rock, fall into the country, and finally go to pop within an hour. Dick can tell what kind of day Crowne is having based on the elevator music he has playing.
Since it's Mozart No. 13, Crowne is likely dealing with a stressful day. Likely trying to clean up a mistake made by an employee.
It was a good thing on the one hand- Crowne would be too overwhelmed to keep a proper eye on him. But it made Dick worry against his will. Crowne tended to work himself into a frenzy and often forgo his well-being if it were not for Tim or Dick telling him to rest.
You don't have time to worry about the trafficker. Dick tells himself as the elevator rises up to the top floor. You have a mission to complete.
He's carrying a take-out order to surprise Crowne with lunch. That's his cover store, at least; if things go according to the schedule they managed to hack into, his fake boyfriend will be called away for a meeting.
Dick will claim that it's fine. He will spend ten minutes reading a book he's left in Crowne's office and "fall asleep".
During that time, Bruce will hake into the cameras in Crowne's office and play a loop of him napping on a couch. In reality, Dick will be going through the office to find any kind of evidence. It's been almost five months since he took on this assignment, and he barely has anything to show. Bruce was becoming impatient.
Thankfully, little Damian kept most of Bruce's attention. The little eight-year-old had been the surprise the three main Justice Leaguers had found at Nanda Parbat. All those years of Dick complaining about Talia al Ghul being evil were true.
She had done something terrible to Bruce without his consent, and Damian al Ghul had been the result.
Then, Talia planned to raise her son as the next heir for her father's league until Bruce convinced her that Damian deserved better. Now Damian was at the manor, slowly unlearning all the terrible habits installed into him from birth.
He had attempted to fight Jason for his second son position, but Bruce had put a stop to it by claiming Jason was a new recruit, and that must have meant something to Damian because the kid backed off.
Now, Damian stuck to Jason's side like a small shadow, watching and learning everything he could. He seemed to adore Jason and looked up to him like the other boy was his idol.
Jason was over the moon about having a baby brother, deciding he wanted to teach Damian proper English- the young child had been learning but struggled a bit- and read him a bedtime story every night.
Dick wished he could claim the same regarding his younger brothers. But sadly, he and Jason did not have the best relationship due to Dick's horrible temper. This, in turn, made little Damian weary of him, keeping a safe distance whenever Dick came over to report on his undercover mission.
The door to the elevator opens, and Dick comes face to face with Crowne, rapidly typing away on his computer with a mantic glint in his eyes. He's got all three desks covered in piles of paperwork and four chalk boars with various colored writing.
Oof, it's worst than he thought.
This looks like it was a level 10 mess. In the five months that he has dated Crowne he's only seen a 10 twice.
Dick clears his throat hoping to break Crowne from his trance. It doesn't work, not that he's surprised. Carefully placing the take-out bags on one of the couches, he struts over and gentle taps one hunched over shoulder.
Crowne eyes swing to him, his entire expression brightens when he realizes who it is. "Hello Darling. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in"
Dick's heart flutters at the word of endearment. He takes control of the reaction by channeling it into making his eyes soft as he leans down for a kiss. Crowne meets half way, melting against Dick like he's not used to being desired.
It's so adorable that Dick allows the kiss to linger longer than normal. He pulls back, smirking at the red cheeks and a slightly dazed expression on Crowne's face. He never gets tired of putting that particular look on Crowne.
"It's alright, I can see you're busy. My fault for dropping in unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood, and we could have lunch together." Dick tilts his head "If you have time to spare".
Crowne looks very remorseful. "I'm so sorry, darling. I have a meeting about the new cellphone models, and I just found out the model is having issues. The batteries are blowing up while the camera feature is either freezing the whole processor or just breaking down the command. I don't have much time today for lunch"
Dick knows it's part of the plan, but he can't help but be sad they can't spend too much time together. It's done wonders for his undercover job as Crowne nervously plays with a pen, apologizing again for his workload.
He shrugs, offering to wait for Crowne with the prepared excuse. The other man brightens, promising to finish as soon as he can. Dick walks over to grab his book as Crowne returns his attention to his screen, typing even faster.
He's never seen anyone that could type as fast as Crowne, not even Bruce or Babs. The fact Crowne created his working computer from the processor to the modified keyboard meant very little.
Crowne typed on any computer as if he had lessons from birth and not learning alongside the rest of the world when computers started getting more popular. Dick still knows many people who prefer paper and pens to have to press keys.
"You won't be alone for too long," Crowne calls, eyes never leaving his screen as his fingers fly over the slightly curved keyboard "Tim will be here in half a hour. You two can spend time together"
Dick forced a smile "Sounds great"
Just great. Drake's arrival would limit his snooping time. Recently he's noticed the younger boy always seemed to insert himself between Dick and Crowne. Alfred had laughed when he reported this slight mishap claiming that he would get the same complaints from Bruce a few years ago.
Back when Dick would try to scare away Catwoman or Talia.
Dick knows that different. He is trying to stop a legit trafficking ring and doesn't want to have some adult time with Crowne. Bruce should have not been looking for a stepmother for him, especially with those women.
Not when Clark Kent was literally right there. He'll convince the old man of this someday.
"Tim looks up to you. He makes inquiries about you often." Crowne continues. His more formal speech means he is slightly nervous. Dick's lip twitches into a smile as his face turns red; simultaneously, his posture straightens. Another give. "I was wondering if you would like to do an event with him."
"A event?"
Crowne pauses, then in a forced calm voice, he says, "I have a side project that involves some of Gotham's youth. The kind of youth often overlooked."
The warm feeling crumbles in Dick's chest. Quickly he double-taps his recording bracelet. This is it. The first real sign of Crowne's side business. He has finally been let in on it.
Dick is going to be sick.
"I wouldn't mind. This project..what is it?" Dick asks carefully, standing up and sauntering to Crowne. He swings his hips a little too much, but it is just what the other man likes as his eyes finally leave the screen and lock on his strut.
He leans on over the desk, smirking as Crowne fumbles in front of him. He's adorable-
No. He's easy to trick.
He sells kids. Dick needs to remember that. His treacherous heart still speeds up.
Crowne stares at him with a slack jaw, and it strokes Dick's ego fiercely. He waits a few minutes, but when all his fake boyfriend does is gawk, he leans closer. "Darling? The project?"
"Oh! Oh yes, of course," Crowne jerks in place, quickly pulling open a drawer. He presses a button inside the drawer- Dick makes a note to check that later- and a side compartment opens. He pulls out a small black notebook with a green ghost flying around a white D on the front of it.
Dick recognizes the symbol. It's the same one that a few street kids passed to Jason a few weeks ago. Jason had gone in as Robin- the more beloved Robin. Dick hates to admit it, but his brother has a better connection with the people of this city.
The street kids said that if you showed this symbol at secret meetings, then you would get supplies and support at said meetings. The thing was, most of the younger kids did not come back from the meetings.
They weren't taken by force, but after a third or fourth visit, they agreed to go with the men and women passing out the resources. Batman had yet to pin these meetings down since they were using vans and popping up randomly throughout the city. They would tear down and be on the road long before the morning light graced the sky.
Crowne flips through the book landing on a page and pushing it to Dick. "I am opening a gym for youth. I was thinking of advertising it as gymnastics and aquatic sports. I know you've dabbled in them before and was wondering if you would teach a beginners class?"
Dick reads over the page. It's like a mind map of a gym, with ideas and more accurate details circled and connected in a giant web. None of it seems sinister.
None of it seems well organized either, but it's wild and brilliant just like Crowne. Why did this man waste so much talent on crime? Why couldn't he be the perfect partner he was pretending to be?
"Where did you get this notebook?" He hears himself say, eyes tracing the beginner's trapeze and beginners Aerial silks with question marks hungrily. He's never thought about teaching his skill, but being surrounded by eager children looking up at him to learn of his family's legacy...... makes him yearn.
When his fantasy turns to the horde of children calling him dad and then running around Crowne calling the other man father, that desire is pushed to the furthest part of his mind.
He won't give in to them. Maybe he would one day find someone to settle down with. One day the Flying Graysons will grace the skies again. But they will never carry the Crowne name.
"A kid sold it to me," Crowne says with a confused tilt of his head. "I was walking through the street vendors festival, and he had a blanket covered in different notebook designs. He didn't pay for a table, and he was a bit away from the entrance, but he was doing his best. I bought eight of them. You should have seen the way his eyes lit up."
Dang it. Not a confession. Not even anything he could use to tie Crowne to the symbol.
The other man raises a brow "Why do you ask?"
Dick smiles with enough heat he practically undresses. Crowne predictably goes beat red at the sight. "I like the design. Wanted one for myself."
"I...I have the young man's contact information. If you desire it, I could purchase some for you?" Crowne melts, pulling on his collar.
Alright. Maybe the kid will be willing to talk. "That would be lovely. You know what else would be lovely?"
He rounds the desk, his lips pulling into a slutty smile. Placing his hands on each arm rest he leans forward, trapping the other man in his office chair. Crowne swallows. "What?"
"You, me, and a hotel room all to ourselves." Dick's voice turns dark with sinful promise. Crowne lips tremble, but he nods.
"I....I've never been with anyone before" the other man confesses and Dick feels a wicked amout of want. He wants to be the person to show him. To teach him. To make his first time so special and wonderful and-
The elevator doors dig open. Drake hopped in, using clutches, and shouted proudly, "I broke my leg!"
Crowne pushes Dick away, rushing to the boy. "Ancients! What in the world happened!?"
"I got mugged on my way to the library!" The boy says it's the greatest thing to ever happen to him.
"That's not a good thing, Tim!"
"It's okay! Robin and Sparrow saved me! It was so cool!" Drake swoons. "I don't know why they were out so early, but they swooped in and got the man who broke my leg before he could get away. Robin even swung me to the hospital! Sparrow didn't say much besides tsking, but he was cool too!
Dick squishes the small amounts of regret for being Interrupted. He glances at the other two before quickly shoving the black book into his pocket. This may give him more answers. They need to see if they can spot that symbol anywhere in the city.
Damian still needs to be discovered in the media. Bruce had decided to keep him hidden in the manor to build a better introduction. Which means they have the perfect candidate to try to get a in at the meetings.
He must close this case before his rapidly developing feelings get in the way.
Drake spots him over Crowne's shoulders. The excitement on his face dies, as he glares at him. Dick hides a wince. Looks like today will be another, "Stay away from my big brother" day from Drake.
"Thank goodness the vigilantes were near you." Crowne gushes, brushing the hair out of Drake's face. He places a kiss on the bruised forehead.
Drake's voice turns hard. " Yeah...almost like they were following me."
Crude. He'll have to warn Jason and Damian to not follow him for a while. Again, he curses that Drake is far too smart for his own good.
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flowhence · 10 months
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hi! could you write a Johanna x fem!reader fic where the reader is a tribute from district 11? She won the 69th games when she was 12-14, and during her game, she became very close friends with an older tribute from District 5 (they were like Rue and Katniss). the older tribute died for reader.
Johanna and reader know each other from the few years where they had been dragged to the capitol to "mentor" for the games. they became very close.
when reader was also reaped for the quarter quell, johanna was there to comfort her as soon as she could.
johanna and reader protect each other in the arena, and reader gets captured by the capitol instead of johanna.
afraid to love you - j.m.
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pairings: johanna mason x reader (romantic), platonic katniss everdeen x reader, platonic finnick odair x reader, platonic peeta mellark x reader
summary: Johanna Mason loved you, she loved how passionate you are and how kind and caring you are. When you got dragged to the capital to mentor the tributes a few times, at first you hated Johanna, but then you grew to love her. What happens when in the quarter quell of the 75th hunger games you’re captured by the capital and Johanna is left alone in District 13?
a/n: i changed some things ^^
warnings: graphic volence, graphic torture, angst, some fluff
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You hated this, hated the unknown of it all. A part of you was glad that it had been you and not Johanna. At least you were semi liked by the capital so they would not kill you at least. You sighed, you’ve been unable to close your eyes ever since you woke up here, in this disgustingly bright white room.
“Are you Y/N L/N?” A man in a white coat and a badge asked, walking into the room with an air of confidence. You scowled at the man. You didn’t answer his question.
“It would be better for you to answer my questions. Are you Y/N L/N?” He repeated the previous question. You grit your teeth, still not saying a word.
“Alright then, you’ll learn to talk eventually.” He said, his hand hovering over the plethora of tools in front of him. You looked at him in silent horror, a plea in your eyes but nonetheless that did not stop the man from picking up tweezers and placing them under your first finger nail.
CRACK!
You closed your eyes tightly, biting your lip to stifle your scream. The man chuckled at you. Muttering something about how you’ll start screaming soon.
He went to your other finger nail. Ripping the nail out of its nailbed, you groaned but the scream was muffled back down your throat again.
You started to lose track of time, the hours seemingly endless and the torture nonstop. He’d ask the same questions, while taking each nail he could.
“Are you Y/N L/N?”
“Where are the rebels hiding?”
“Were you in on the plan?”
“Who is the leader of the rebels?”
Over and over and over again.
You don’t know when you started screaming or when your voice became hoarse. The lights beginning to truly make your eyes hurt.
The man decided eventually to move onto another type of torture. He put a rag over your head, and then came the water.
You weren’t expecting this, you weren’t expecting to be waterboarded. The water seems to be endless, soaking into your nostrils, your mouth, and your eyes. You gagged, choking on the water and coughing but having no break with it. Water getting into your lungs causing your chest to heave painfully.
You don’t know when you passed out or if you ever did. Time became nothing more than torturous. Tick tock, the clock would go, you supposed the clock is there to make you feel insane.
When that wasn’t enough they’d inject something into your veins, it made you scream and writhe in your bounds. It felt like your bones were on fire, like your stomach acid is burning through your fat, skin, and muscle.
Sometimes you would get a hallucinogen. You’d see Johanna, but it wasn’t her. She’d come to save you, hold you, and then you would wake crying.
“Oh my god…” You heard her, you heard Johanna. Unsure if this is just a trick or hallucination you cracked your eyelids open. When did you get here? It wasn’t as bright, it definitely was not the capital.
You wriggled a bit, bringing your hand to your face. You gazed unsurely at your own hand, unsure if this is real. Your eyes shifted to Johanna’s figure, you didn’t feel anything, not relief, not happiness. You’ve been through this too many times to get hopeful only to have everything ripped away the next second.
“You’re not real. You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real.” You chanted over and over again, shaking your head you refused to believe this was real. Too many times you had the hope, had Johanna, ripped away from your grasp.
“Dove?” You shook your head again, tears stinging at your eyes.
“It’s me, I.. I’m real. I swear.” This was different, the hallucinations never demanded that they were real. A spark of hope fired into your chest.
“Jo?” You replied tearfully, hopefully even. You sounded so unsure that it broke Johanna’s heart. You then spotted Katniss and Finnick behind Johanna. A sob broke through your pale cracked lips.
You were muttering incomprehensible words to yourself, rocking back and forth.
“It’s me, they can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.” Johanna murmured, stepping to your bedside. You looked up, tears streaming down your cheeks, raw emotion in your eyes. You tentatively reached out to her, to Johanna.
Johanna took the hand that had shakenly been moving towards her. She brought your hand to her lips kissing it.
“This is real…” You muttered in disbelief. Jo finally let a few tears fall.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry… I tried to get you three back sooner. I am so sorry.” Katniss said, her voice cracking. You looked up at the woman, a woman so brave for someone who’s just a kid.
“It’s ok. They didn’t break me.” You said, albeit emotionally but you’re not hundred percent ok right not and that’s fine.
The five of you huddled into a hug. Peeta somehow snuck into the hug as well. and you all laughed, you were all together again. You might never be the same but at least you were alive and had everything you needed.
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bucketslutz · 1 month
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Don't Be Late (Logan Howlett/Fem mutant reader)
Chapter 1
(A/N): btw this takes place in an alternate universe where the x men as a team don't really exist, but the members and mutants obviously still do. readers powers are similar to atom eve from invincible, if you haven't seen that show i highly recommend it, but if not, you don't really need to know any of that to understand readers powers, they'll be explained in more detail later on.
Summary: You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are, your goal to end up working in a small museum or archive and live the rest of your life going unnoticed. The first day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you that you never thought existed. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or will you get too close and risk him knowing who you really are?
Warnings: 18+!! explicit sexual content, minors DNI!! pls!!! oral (fem recieving), logan being a munch lowk, oral on the couch, teasing, dirty talking, cursing, logan being an asshole professor, no use of Y/N.
Word Count: 3,208
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You anxiously rub your forehead as you struggle to find parking on campus, circling and circling the lot. Finally, someone pulls out and you turn in aggressively, someone in front of you flips you off, probably eyeing the same spot. You’re late. Very late. You have an American Civil War class, it’s an advanced level, with a professor whose name you cannot remember for the life of you. You’ve been preoccupied this summer, and time escaped you before you got the chance to research his credentials. It’s your first day of grad school and you’re late. A long commute, a new college, and shitty parking. You hope to god the professor doesn’t care or notice when you slip in late, as you carry a specific kind of disdain for drawing attention to yourself.
You were 13 when you first noticed something was wrong, walking home alone from school when a stranger tried to pin you down and do god knows what to you, until your eyes glowed a deep fuchsia and you threw him across the alley with a strength you didn’t even know you had. Your veins began glowing the same pink color and pulsating, scaring you shitless. You ran to the woods behind your house, avoiding your family for fear of harming them. With enough practice over the years, you’ve learned to control your abilities. Your eyes only glowing occasionally when you’re especially frustrated or angry. Sometimes even when you’re…taking care of some sexual urges. While you don’t know what causes these powers, you do know the general population’s feelings about mutants enough to understand that no one can know what you are. You don’t keep boyfriends for longer than 3 months, you don’t let friends become closer than you need them to be, and you don’t tell anyone what you are. You just want a normal life.
Your forehead is slick with sweat by the time you arrive at the history building, your breath heavy and labored, not from how fast you were walking to the building, but from anxiety, which is also the source of the excessive sweat on your brow. You cannot recall this courses class size, and you damn yourself for forgetting to check; not knowing if you can slip into the large class quietly or if everyone will be able to see you come in. This isn’t undergrad where people stumble in hungover with 10 minutes left of class, this is a graduate program where people go on to become masters in their fields of study. And you’re going to look like a fool in front of everyone. You approach the door to the classroom and can see through the window that it is, in fact, a small class. Fuck. There are maybe 15 people in there total. You hold your breath as you attempt to quietly push the door open, but it fails you with a loud, obnoxious creak. Every head snaps towards you, including the teacher, and you offer a meek smile to your classmates and turn your head towards the professor to issue a brief apology. You swallow hard when your eyes land on him. his tall frame is leaning against the white board, a little scary looking with muscles that bulge against his crossed arms, peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves. You’re surprised they’re visible even through his plaid button-up. His hair is fluffy, dark, as well as his beard…or actually, you should say mutton-chops, as that would be a more accurate descriptor. He glares at you, and you swear you’ve held his gaze for hours, but realistically it’s only been no more than a few seconds.
“Sorry,” you offer timidly.
The professor nods lightly, his jaw tense, and waves you off as he continues addressing the class. You attempt to quietly maneuver to an empty seat in the back, trying your hardest to not trip over your classmate’s bags and chairs. You feel like it takes forever to get to your seat, hoping no one pays too much attention to how clumsily you scoot past the chairs and over obstacles. You try and settle as quietly as possible, unzipping your shoulder bag and retrieving a pen to take notes. He’s still going over the syllabus, thank god.
“The only homework you’ll have is an essay, every week—every Friday—you have an essay due. Then every 3 weeks you’ll have an exam,” he instructs, rather nonchalantly. “And while I don’t give a shit if you waste your money and don’t come to class,” his eyes suddenly are fixed onto you, you swallow a lump of anxiety lodged in your throat as he continues, “The school cares a helluva lot more so, if you don’t mark your name down on the attendance sheet, you forget, you’re late, or whatever the hell, you’ll be absent. I’m not going back in and fixing shit.”
Noted. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the class and continues talking about the curriculum for the rest of the semester. you try to keep your head down as you scribble notes into your notebook, trying to look busy, when in reality you want to kick yourself in the face. You left your apartment too late, you didn’t anticipate the amount of traffic on the interstate, and you conveniently forgot how terrible parking is on college campuses. You look up to see the professor checking his wristwatch with a furrowed brow, like he’s considering something.
“Alright, that’s all i’ve got today, get out,” he commands, his gravelly voice showing slight indignation.
There’s a general look of confusion around the room at his abrupt dismissal with 45 minutes left of class. As people begin to shove their belongings in bags, you quickly get the memo as you collect your notebook and pen in your hands and stand up, ready to depart from this nightmare as soon as possible. But you’re the last in your row, shoved into a corner. the line of people in front of you have their chairs pushed back to the wall as they slowly collect themselves. It takes an obnoxiously long time for you to get out from behind the the long row of desks, even longer to leave the class as everyone shoves their way past you and out the door. Finally, you find an opening, but before your foot can even reach the threshold, there’s a strong grip on your arm. You turn your head to meet the gaze of your professor. Your heart skips a beat as he maintains eye contact briefly, before he hands you a piece of paper and lets go of your arm.
“Find your name, mark it,” he directs, causing you to scramble for the pen in your hands as you scan the paper for your name.
You try and offer a polite smile to the professor, but he remains stoic and unamused, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Once you find your name, you ungracefully set the paper against your flimsy notebook for structure, and scrawl a shaky check mark next to your name. You offer the paper back to him.
“Here, thank you, um, professor…” you trail off awkwardly, forgetting that you never actually checked what his name was. He takes the attendance sheet from you.
“Logan,” he answers.
“Ah, thank you professor Logan—”
“No,” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “just Logan.”
“Logan, right. thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone far from indicating the typical politeness of the statement, and rather literally cautioning you to never bring up this act of kindness again. And with that you turn to leave the class, unsure of why this gruff, sturdy, serious professor bended his own personal rules just for you. But no matter with that, you at least know you’ll never be late to his damn class again.
***
You pull into the driveway of your house with a sigh. It's late, the time you prefer to get home, so you can fully relax and use your powers in peace. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, you still fear someone will mistakenly pull into your driveway and catch you flying into your second story window or creating an apple from nothing. The lack of sound, except that of the chirping crickets and cicadas, puts you at ease. You release the tension in your shoulders and float off of the ground, propelling yourself to the patio on the second story of your house. You unlock the door with a flick of your wrist, the fuchsia energy encasing the doorknob and letting you into your bedroom, you then toss your things down onto the floor. An exhausted groan escapes your lips as you face plant onto your cool, soft bed. Not even coming up for air when you fling your arm up and slam the door shut with a pink, crystalline whoosh. You turn over to face the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut within the comfort of your bed. Longing to get out of your stuffy jeans and bra, you trail your hands over your body and watch as your clothes dissipate into a pink flash while you manifest some boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt. Finally comfortable, you slide under the covers, wanting to sleep off one of the most stressful days you've had in a while. A morning full of classes, then 5 hours interning at the museum, before finally finishing off your day at the convenience store down the road working a 6 hour shift. While you can create most anything you want with your powers, you cannot create the full nights sleep that you most desperately need right now. 
As you drift, you think about how embarrassing of a morning you had. Stumbling into class like a fawn learning how to walk, Logan directly looking at you when speaking about attendance, Logan shoving the attendance sheet in your face so you mark yourself as present, Logan's strong arms and the way they looked with his sleeves rolled up. Logan's fluffy, dark hair and--No. Shut up. Don't think about that, he's your professor for god's sake. And, more importantly, an asshole. No amount of muscle or sheer sexiness will distract from that fact. You repeat this fact to yourself as you doze off, not wanting to give in to immature thoughts of attraction. Despite falling asleep to the negation of that attraction, your subconscious drifts somewhere you know you shouldn't physically go.
You're in Logan's office, your ass perched on the edge of his desk. Logan's back is to you, locking his door and drawing the blinds. He turns to you, his stance almost primal and animal-like, like he can't wait for the chance to devour you. The thought of that causes your arousal to swirl deep in your stomach. Logan saunters towards you, bearing his lower teeth like a predator ready to take their prey. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he gets closer, causing you to spread your legs, hoping the clear view of what lies beneath your skirt will draw him in closer. It seemingly works as he closes the distance between you two, his waist now flush against your lower stomach. Tingles shoot down your spine at the sudden contact, blood rushing down to your pussy. He pants as he brings his hands to your waist and strokes up and down the sides of your body, then achingly slow up your neck, then finally stopping at your chin. One hand creeps to the nape of your neck where he lays his palm flat while the other pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating that he's close to having his way with you. He holds you there for a beat, his face so tantalizingly close to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. You whine gently when his lips teasingly graze your own. The fingers pinching your chin adjust slightly to grip your jaw instead, allowing him better control to tilt your head up towards him. His other hand, at the nape of your neck, travels upward allowing his fingers to gently rake through your hair until he roughly takes a fistful and tugs. A soft moan escapes your throat and you try to satiate the throbbing pressure between your legs by rubbing your thighs together. An amused huff leaves Logan's lips as he looks down at your squirming figure beneath him.
"You gonna be good for me, princess?" he asks in a low, gruff tone as the hand on your chin trails down the side of your neck before landing on your breast. He massages the flesh fervently, finding it harder to hide his own desperate arousal and need from you. You moan into his touch and arch your back into him, your pussy searching for more friction that Logan is expertly avoiding giving you by not allowing his pelvis to meet yours.
"Logan," you gasp.
"C'mon, baby," his voice soothes, like smooth velvet, "tell me you want it."
"I want it," you whisper, desperately seeking any sort of release.
"Good girl."
And with that, Logan removes the hand on your breast so he can aggressively hook an arm under your ass and easily hoist you up with one fell swoop. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, reveling the feel of his palm that covers your asscheek. With a growl Logan spins you around and throws you onto the couch in the corner of his office, barely allowing you a second to recover when he crawls on top of you and captures your lips with his own desperately. The kiss is aggressive and needy, tongues dancing together ungracefully, teeth clashing, hasty lip bites between kisses. His hips grind against yours roughly, causing you to hook both your feet around his ass to keep him there for as long as you can, desperately seeking more friction. His hands alternate with each other between grasping your breasts to gripping your face passionately. Without breaking the kiss, he hooks his arms under you and drives you further up the couch so your upper back lays against the armrest. You whine when his lips leave yours, but it's quickly replaced with a moan as his lips travel down your neck, chest, the stomach he exposes by lifting the hem of your shirt, biting the fabric at the waistband of your skirt. You squirm underneath him, anticipating what's gonna happen next as his face nestles between your legs. He licks, bites, sucks, and kisses the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp with each harsh move of his mouth, before promptly melting into a moan when he alleviates his biting or sucking with a kiss or flick of his tongue. Your clit is throbbing, your pussy aching for him to get closer to your center. So he does. His tongue dances along the edge of your panties, not dipping much further into the fabric, his head alternating between each of your lips. You whine desperately as Logan's mouth hovers above your core, his hot breath teasing you further. He looks up at you and into your eyes as his mouth latches onto your thinly clothed pussy, causing you to squirm and moan underneath him, the already damp fabric from your arousal, getting further soaked from Logan's saliva.
"Logan," you whine fervently. "Please."
His mouth leaves your pussy, just barely hovering above it now.
"I gotta make you want it, princess, it's no fun unless you're begging for me to taste you," he breathed against your pussy, his voice low and syrupy. He quickly resumes the hold his mouth had on your pussy, making your back arch off the couch with a moan.
"Okay, I'm officially begging, please, Logan, please," you whimper, not sure how much longer you're able to take his teasing.
"Atta girl," he rasps against your pussy. Like nothing, his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and he rips it off of you with an experienced strength, leaving your pussy now exposed to Logan, and your torn lace panties on the floor.
"So wet for me, huh?" Logan teases through a cocky smile. You squirm more underneath him, causing his hands to move to your hips to hold them down. Logan stares hungrily at your cunt, removing one hand from your hip and bringing it to your pussy lips to rub it tantalizingly slow with his fingers. Flicking his eyes up to meet yours, he finally brings his tongue to your folds and licks up to your clit. You moan throatily and bring your hands to his hair to give it a tug of appreciation. He groans enthusiastically into your pussy, eating at it like your core is the forbidden fruit dripping in molten pleasure. He's animalistic in his movements and noises, lapping at your clit with groans and grunts in pleasure, almost growling even. He brings his fingers to your core, tracing the hole before shoving two digits inside of you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with each push inside. The noises are lewd and wet with each drive of his fingers. Your moans grow more desperate and needy as you climb towards your climax, the death grip you have on his hair growing stronger and stronger. The hand holding your hip down crawls up to your breast, grasping desperately at your flesh, hastily circling your nipples with his thumb. Your breaths quicken, your eyes flutter shut as he continues the steady onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. 
"Logan, I'm so close, don't stop...please..." you trail off, beginning to lose yourself in your pleasure. Logan responds with needy moans against your clit and the continuous pumping of his fingers in and out of you. His grip on your breast loosens to grasp your side, slinking down to your waist, definitely leaving a mark with how rough he grabs at you. As his lips and tongue continue lapping you up, you can feel your arousal swirling in your stomach more and more. Your moans grow louder, your hips begin bucking. Logan groans into you, desperate to feel your release around his fingers. White hot pressure forms around your clit as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, you look down at Logan and lock eyes with him just as you feel yourself dropping off.
The feeling of hot pink fire pricking your eyeballs jerks you awake, mid-orgasm, your eyes glow a pulsating fuchsia. You pant heavily, your orgasm ending unceremoniously against your fingertips. Leaving you disappointed. You huff in annoyance, wishing you could plunge yourself back into the wet dream that ended in a rather mediocre way. No, wait, that was your professor. You shouldn't be feeling, or thinking, this way at all. You feel disappointed in yourself for having such lewd thoughts about another person, especially a person of authority. You catch your breath, turn your head to face the clock on your nightstand and gasp when you see the time.
"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, hastily throwing yourself out of bed. "Please don't be late today."
(A/N): and that's that!! i hope people enjoy! this concept popped into my head earlier today so i've spent my sunday working on this, if people are interested to see where this goes, please leave a kudos or comment!!! TYYY🫶🏻🙈 i also posted this onto my ao3 here if you would like to view it there and keep up with it there as well!
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cherrrydragon · 3 months
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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)
CHAPTER ONE: WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE
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SUMMARY ↳ A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other. A particle accelerator. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne wc: 2.1k
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In every universe the Spider is a hero. Some go by different names, some can create their own organic webs, and some have their own cat burglar to wrestle with. One constant, for sure, is that they all are bitten by a spider. You are not the exception.
You were bit when you were 13, and for the last 5 years, you have been the “one and only” Spinnerette! It had been a rocky start, but things are looking okay now. You’ve got a family, a real, strong and fun family.
“You’ve been officially added to my hitlist, Tony, watch you’re motherfucking back.”
“Oh, goody. You might be the only person who hasn’t hired a sniper on me before.”
Loving family, of course.
There was an idea to put together a group of remarkable people to see if they could fight the battles humanity could not. It was called the “Avenger Initiative.” A billionaire, super soldier, scientist, Russian spy, master archer and a God walk into a Shawarma restaurant, wonder what it leads to. The Avengers currently all (mostly) live in the former Stark Tower.
You also currently live in the former Stark Tower. It’s a dream come true. Everyone is happy, everyone is healthy, and your relationships with each Avenger is thriving.
“When’s the last time you ate, kiddo?” asks Tony, stepping inside your personal lab he had gifted you for your 15th birthday. Your hands move deftly, fluid and familiar in fixing your web-shooters.
“A definitely normal time,” is your reply. “Hey, what did you do with the Iron Spider suit? I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I’m thinking about tweaking some of the web combinations.”
“It’s charging, where else would it be? Also, here.” He puts a bag of sandwiches from Delmar’s. You grin and reach out for it. “You know me so well.”
“I know you best,” he clicks, and reaches out to ruffle your hair, only because you let him. “Can you tell Nat I fixed her widow bites? And tell Sam I fixed that dent in his wings, too.” You take a bite of a sandwich. “I’m unna pakrol inna vit.”
He pinches your cheek. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgraceful.” Stay safe.
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“[Name], it may be more efficient to patrol without music blasting in your ears,” says your ever so faithful AI, Karen.
You huff goodnaturedly. “ Ear , Karen. Singular. It’s never screwed me over before, I promise I am a responsible music listener.” The thwip of your webs shooting out has always been a comforting sound. It’s a reminder, of who you are, of what you stand for. All your accomplishments (failures too, but the pain is grounding.) “Also, please place an order for the new Batman comic, I forgot to do it earlier.”
“I find it contradicting how you say you are a casual enjoyer, yet own nearly every issue of any and all related Batman comics.”
“I don’t believe in consistency… or whatever Hobie would say.”
The discovery and confirmation of the multiverse was not as surprising as it should’ve been, but it was daunting all the same. You’ve never really been alone since your life at the Tower, but it was a whole new type of connection, finding out there were other Spiders, other you’s . Then, of course, there was that whole “Miles, you’re the original anomaly!” fiasco. Luckily, the situation ended up resolved, and there are (mostly) no hard feelings. You haven’t met another [Name] [L.Name] yet, but there are plenty of other Spider’s to learn from.
“Numerous suspicious activity reports have taken place downtown. I suggest checking it out.”
“You’re the boss, Karen.” You twist your body, changing your momentum and direction, heading downtown. You do flips and tricks, with all the grace of a ballerina. The nanotech is perfectly flexible enough for your dramatics. Tony had spontaneously made the suit for you, as the fabric of your old one didn’t provide as much armor as he needed for peace of mind.
“I am detecting a multiversal instability. Tread carefully.”
The eyes of your suit squint. “Get Miguel on this.”
It isn’t often a multiversal problem pops up in your universe. With people like Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff holding cosmic power in relation to interdimensional activity, and the Space Stone itself, your universe holds up well in defense to multiverse activity. But even so, space is unpredictable.
Miguel, despite all his grievances with you and the Peter Parker of Earth-199999, equipped you both with a Web-Watch (you and the other Spiderlings agreed Gizmo was lame). You don’t use it much unless it’s to go chill at the Spider HQ or visit the other ‘Lings in their universes. Whatever iota of guilt he felt after the whole Miles thing manifested itself as overprotectiveness, and he insists on dealing with all spatial related problems himself. You’ll indulge him, if only to bother him about the tech in his universe.
You’re met with a warehouse, abandoned, because of course it is. “No heat signature’s,” you mumble, the suit scanning for signs of life. You hop down through a hole in the roof silently, looking around. There’s random tech and machine parts scattered around, which is never a good sign. It’s easy to miss for the untrained eye, but you spot a hidden elevator mechanism and step inside it. If anything goes wrong, you trust your spider-sense to get you the hell out of dodge.
The way down is ominous, if not for the almost complete darkness, then for the red blinking lights. Your sense tingles, not sensing any immediate danger, but very uncomfortable down here.
d on’t feel good not safe for long leave quickly
Going en pointe (because going on your actual tippy toes to increase stealth is just way too good), you sneak carefully. Just because there are no living dangers doesn’t mean there are none at all. The room is as dark as the rest of the place, and while you can turn on night vision, it’s not as efficient in understanding what the hell you might be looking at.
“Karen, is there a light switch in here?” Your voice echoes in the large room.
“To your left, [Name].” Sure enough, there actually is a light switch that you find after groping the wall. “Huh,” you hum, pleasantly surprised. A flick of the switch activates the many overhead lights and reveals a daunting sight.
A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other.
A particle accelerator.
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Ok- uh. Karen, contact Tony, and Bruce. Can you tell if it’s been active recently?”
“I am picking up a recent signal, yes. I theorize the recent earthquakes are because of test runs.”
Miles once told you his story. Finding the particle accelerator, his Spider-Man’s death. You remember placing a hand on his shoulder, and you remember him grasping it tightly. It was a complicated time in his life.
“How did he destroy it again…?” you murmur, looking around the machine. “A goober.. right. How did Peni make it, though?” Pulling up your wrist, you scan the machine. “Please contact Peni as well, K.”
Stilling your posture, you look up at the accelerator. You have no doubt nothing good will come from whoever is behind this. Those who try to manipulate powers greater than them always receive a rude awakening. Maybe, by the grace of some higher power, you can somehow rope the Space Stone into this. You know better than to think they don’t have some kind of sentience. Maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself–
watch out! behind you!
When you turn around, there’s nothing behind you. You’re on high alert now. Your sense doesn’t make mistakes, so either a sniper is pointing his gun at you, or someone who can cloak themselves in around you, and neither of those are good. You breathe in, honing your senses, the situation is far too delicate for you to stumble.
“Show yourself,” you demand. “If you’re smart enough to build this then understand when I say I will find you.”
there! right there!
You turn and send a web to where your senses pointed. The person grunts, trapped in your solution. You pull them toward you. “Show yourself,” you repeat.
A sigh leaves the person's mouth. Then, slowly, their form reveals itself. It’s like Miles' ability to go invisible. Before you is someone your age, must be. And yet the way they carry themselves is reminiscent of somebody who has been through far too much for someone their age. So, basically every Spider you know.
Which is on brand apparently, because this person must be like you. There is no other possibility. The web patterns on their suit, the bug eyes of their mask, the invisibility thing.
“You’re…” you mutter.
“Like you,” they finish.
Your eyes narrow. “The hell are you doing, man? Surely a Spider knows this if some fuckshit,” you gesture to the massive machine. “What are you even doing here?”
Their suits eyes squint. “It’s a delicate matter.”
“Yeah. Obviously,” you roll your eyes. “Not like a bridge to different dimensions is any walk in the park.”
“It’s none of your business,” they huff.
“Hell yeah, it is. You’re me, basically. You’re building a particle accelerator in my universe. By the way, let’s talk about that. Why not just carry out your evil plans in your own home? Did Venom get you or something? We can like, do something about that. Probably–”
“Enough nonsense,” they spit.
“Oh, okay.”
The room lights up, and the particle accelerator whirls to life. The room shakes, no doubt another earthquake beginning to affect the city. A whirlwind of colors fill your vision. Your hand curls the cuff of their suit into your fist.
“What did you do.”
“I’m doing what I have to.”
It happens fast, far faster than your senses could have warned you. Your web restricting them snaps and their hands grab you.
“You’ll survive.” Their hands destroy your watch. “I’m not so cruel.”
And you’re thrown into the web of the universe.
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Waking up in an unfamiliar environment has happened far more times than it should have. It’s instinct that pulls you up from the ground. Your body is sore, your head hurts, and the eyes of your suit are genuinely tweaking.
“Karen…” you groan.
“I am unable to connect to any Mr. Stark’s satellites. I detect multiple bruises all over your body, no broken bones. The suit is in functioning condition, 92% charge left.”
“Yeah, we are definitely not in New York anymore. My New York, anyway.” You look up. Your environment is gloomy, the skies are gray, and the buildings have seen better days.
“I’ve connected to the satellites I can detect that are currently in orbit.”
“I need out of this suit, K.” The nanites retract into your web-shooters, now disguised as regular bracelets. You pause and think. “Gimme some glasses, actually. I still need you.” A couple of nanites crawl up your body and form frames on your face. “I can always count on you, K.”
“I’ve created a route to a public library with computers for you.”
The walk to the library has you on edge. Your sense isn’t exactly reacting like it would when you’re in immediate danger, but it’s buzzing constantly. You sigh to yourself. There should’ve been a protocol made for this as soon as you found out about the multiverse. It would’ve definitely been called the “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore Protocol.”
“I’ll start making that protocol for you,” Karen says. You hadn’t realized you’d been talking outloud, sighing. “Thanks, K.”
People keep glancing at you when you walk by before ultimately minding their own business. You’re sure that you give them that uncanny valley feeling, even if you look like a regular human. Effects of being from another universe, you guess. 
Walking up the steps to the library, you think about your next move. You should worry about living your situation. You have no clue how long you’ll be here before someone finds you (or, god forbid, you build your own way back home). You know how to be sneaky and steal, hopefully it doesn’t have to come to that though. You look up, thinking, and pause when your eyes spot something.
Gotham City Public Library.
What. The. Fuck.
In hindsight, it shouldn’t be so surprising. Infinite universes, infinite possibilities, so on and so forth. It had never crossed your thoughts that the silly stories you like (read: obsess over) could be a real universe out there. You don’t like to think about it too hard.
“Karen. Where are we.”
“My map tells me we are currently located in Gotham City, New Jersey.” Big yikes.
“Okay. Change of plans. We are going anywhere but here. Let’s just make up a fake identity, first. And get a job. I deserve a couple of days to think.” No way in hell are you going anywhere near that library where goddamn Oracle works.
It’ll be best to avoid everyone all together.
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notes: title is a lyric from "Saturn" by SZA.
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lilioopdf · 24 days
Text
always enough time (cardigan)
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pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti
notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)
warnings: mentions of alcohol
a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you
and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs
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the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.
he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.
he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.
after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.
he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.
it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.
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you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.
he looks out for you for years.
when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.
you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.
when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.
the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.
you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.
now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."
and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.
you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.
pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.
your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.
that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.
when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"
you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"
"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.
your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.
"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."
you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.
when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.
"fine, suit yourself then."
then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.
and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.
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you try not to think about him for the next two years.
you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.
when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).
and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.
its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.
how could you?
you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)
you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.
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imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.
your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.
before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.
except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.
he recognises you instantly. how could he not?
you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.
"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?
you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.
but you just put on a smile and act the same.
arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.
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the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.
in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.
you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.
you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.
you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.
he’s still sweet to you.
maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.
it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.
except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.
he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.
it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.
and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.
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suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.
i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.
you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.
his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.
the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.
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pepe visits you the night before the charity match.
he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.
you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.
before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"
you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.
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you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.
you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.
the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.
you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.
you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.
the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.
you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.
he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.
he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.
your boy.
there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.
everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?
you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.
he kisses you.
his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.
and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.
you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.
✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊
© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms
thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗
taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)
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baronessvonglitter · 3 months
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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒 “Austin"
pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Word count: 2K
Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel
WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.
Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.
Series Masterlist
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Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.
Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.
School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.
"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.
"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.
You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.
She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.
You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.
"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.
Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.
"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.
Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.
Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.
It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.
Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.
You sigh and put the phone down.
You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.
"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."
"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.
You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.
He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.
You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.
"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."
Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.
"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.
"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"
"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."
You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.
"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.
Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."
You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"
"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.
"What're you studyin'?"
"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."
You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"
"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."
Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."
"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.
He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.
You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"
He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."
You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.
"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.
"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.
"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.
Joel smirks. "No problem."
"I really owe you one."
"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.
You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.
"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."
You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."
He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."
"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.
"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.
"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.
"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"
You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.
Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"
You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."
"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"
Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."
He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.
"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.
He laughs and nods. "Til then."
You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...
...right?
next chapter ->
divider by @saradika-graphics 👑
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maroonsweetpea · 4 months
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This may make some of my newer followers disgusted by me but I feel like this perspective should be addressed. I have had problems with hypersexuality since genuinely as long as I can remember. Like, I'm talking about six and seven years old. Before I even understood what was wrong with me. I'm not going to get into details because the truth is that the details that I have are blurry at best and any attempt I have ever made to uncover more has only led to panic attacks and alcohol relapses. At around 13 I discovered porn online. Not like I didn't know it existed, but, I had never interacted with that kind of content previously. I had a serious porn problem until I discovered radical feminism, honestly. It opened my eyes to what should have been in front of me. Things I knew deep down but wanted to forget because it's okay if I'm imagining it happening to horrible me, right?
And, I'm not talking about the most baseline forgivable. I mean hard kinks. I mean that I was self-destructive to the point that I begged my boyfriend to go farther than he seemed to want to at times. And I honestly wanted to die and for him to be the one to kill me. When I was being choked I feel like I was going to reach the gates of Heaven. That peace was nearing because death is the ultimate freedom. I was so masochistic. I was such an alcoholic, dealing with anorexia....what I have never been clinically diagnosed with but I could only describe as violent OCD. I thought I could control what terrified me by playing pretend. Needless to say it did not work and it did not help in any capacity. But, if you asked me back then I would have told you it did. And I would have mostly believed that.
I channeled all of these problems into sex. It was all I could think of. I masturbated CONSTANTLY. It's like I was on fire all the time. The online communities I lingered on and even some female friends irl to this day told me that it was completely fine and healthy to cope with these problems, especially the childhood....whatever with things like CNC. That it was just my old man that didn't do it correctly. I think about a lot of this almost daily and guilt isn't a good enough word to describe it. If there is a word beyond that or shame I don't know it, but, I feel it. At this point in my life my sexuality.....is almost a dead weight. A big part of me thinks I will never be cured, that my need for pain and my need for sex will trickle back the same and I'll explode.
I say all of this not for pity points, but because I think that fucked up women deserve to have a place here and for things like this to be discussed more openly. People can't be born pure and many people learn by terrible mistakes. Or maybe I'm the odd man out. Either way.
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fl3shm4id3n · 4 months
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ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴘᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ): ᴛʜᴇ ᴀ.ᴘ.ᴇ. ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐞𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 '𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝' 𝐡𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 '𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐬' 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ? ᴀᴘᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴋɪᴅ ᴄᴜᴅɪ - ᴍʀ. ʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ
TW: human and ape experimenting, illegal? experimenting, talks of torture, blood, brain swapping, bride of Frankenstein/Poor Things references, talks of death and taking risks, abuse, injuries, talks of war, blood, guns, murder, humans being assholes, Koba, Not edited.
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The A.P.E. Experiment, was an experiment done by a private organization who deeply believed that both humans and apes are much closer then they're out to be. Since there was endless and endless of research that both species are technically the same. Except the humans are evolved and the apes aren't, yet they shared the same kind of intelligence.
That's why the A.P.E. Experiment took place. They actually wanted to prove and show how a human and ape can think the same things and be both as intelligent as they are. They've been several and several attempts, but there was always some kind of miscalculation or something going wrong. Not only that, but they test subjects would either die or not make it because of the risky brain transplant done by the scientist.
Despite those many fails, they kept on going. They weren't going to stop until they had finally manage to do what they were meant to do. Even if that involves the deaths of many humans and apes. Not only that, but they also worried about the money that had been founded into the experiment, if they didn't use it, then this whole experiment would have gone to waste. So they kept on going on again, again, and again, until finally after many attempts they had succeded.
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You had no name, except for your serial number. Which was '013'. Technically, your name was 'H-Thirteen', but you were called 013. That number was tattooed onto your wrist ever since you could remember. You don't have much of a memory, since your brain had already been switched out not too long ago. The scar at the back of your shaved head was still somewhat healing. The procedure happened when you were 13 years old. The White Coats were nervous, they hoped that this time the transplant would work this time. After many attempts, none had succeeded. But this time. It had worked. Both you and the other Ape had actually survived the transplant. The White Coats were happy to learn this. Finally, after years of planning. It had finally worked.
Ever since you were given your new brain, you began to develop new behavior. Before, you'd talk verbally, now you sign or make ape noises as a form to communicate. When you'd speak vocally, you'd speak as if you were trying to form words. Like a child who just learned how to say words. You used to walk normally, now you walked slightly hunched and with your knuckles for support of some kind. Instead of standing, you'd be scrunched down, using your knuckles for support. Not only that, but you had grown canines. They were small, but they were visible. Besides those changes, your emotions had also change. When you'd be happy you'd jump around and be loud. But when you'd get mad, your snarl and hiss. As well as throw things that were near you. They were 'small' changes, at least to you yet the White Coats made it a huge deal.
The ape who's brain had been switched with yours, also began to experience changes. She now speaks verbally. Very human like, it was almost unbelievable. She walks and stands like a human. Even has human like emotions. Not only that, but the thing about this ape, was that she is your sister. You and her were both made out of the same DNA and grew in the same artificial womb. Also, when standing next to each other, you and her looked alike. A lot alike. Except, she was a ape and you were a human. That alone made it obvious that you both are twins, you and her were one of many human and ape twins. Except, the difference was that you and her survived the brain transplant. You and your twin were the lucky ones. Despite both your huge changes, you were both still different species.
The experiment continued. You and your twin known as A-Thirteen would often complete tasks on a daily basis. They were simply yet hard tasks to do, but you and Thirteen would complete them using your unique skills. The White Coats monitored everything. Took notes and videos of everything, for research and data. Yours and A-Thirteen's brain would often been checked up. Just to see it's development and how it's getting used to your new body. Since in the past, the other test subjects would either reject the brain or the brain would just die or even infect them, killing them. But your brain had got used to your spinal cord and body. It was shown how the brain had quickly got used to your body and the slight changes in your DNA. It had actually become your brain now. But not A-Thirteen, your twin's brain had become infected with some kind of bacteria. They tried to save her, but the infection had already spread out into her body, killing her. The White Coats were disappointed, but they were glad that you had survived. Which was good to them.
When you reached the age of 15. That's when the experimenting got aggressive. Wires would be poked into your scalp to test out your brain and would always make sure to check for any infections or anything abnormal, but it was all good. Not only that, but your body would be put in constant testing. You had no idea why, but you never asked because were made to believe that what they were doing was good. But, did that good have to be so painful?
You began to hate every bit of it. Having to be strapped into a bed, having wires put in your body, constant needles and fluids getting injected into your body. Those are of few tests done, there was more. But you preferred to just for get about them. At least you tried to forget about them. The scars on your body were a constant reminder of what the White Coats did to you. You attempted to rebel, refusing to do your daily tasks and would put up a fight when you'd be dragged into the lab for testing. Due to your rebellion, you'd get punished. Such as be locked in your room for hours without food or water. Same with being tased or get beaten by one of the White Coats. You hated it. All you wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.
At least, that's what you thought. In reality, you wished that you could be normal. Except, you weren't. Sure, you looked just like the White Coats, but your brain was the thing that wasn't normal. Often times you'd be told that you were special and that you'd do great things in the future. Except, you didn't want that. You wanted to do things that weren't going to the lab to be tested or doing tasks that you've already done. You wanted to interact with humans your age and just do stuff they'd do. Have a family, from what you learned, humans either had a big or small family from the books you read. They had a mother, father, a son or daughter. Even both or more. You wanted that, except. You didn't. You had no mother or father, you had a sister. You could never have what the humans had. You were kept in isolation. Never allowed to go outside, ever. The only company you had, was the company of the White Coats and A-Thirteen. But she was gone. You were now alone, with the White Coats.
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ʏᴇᴀʀ 2026
You were now a 20 year old full grown woman. Things haven't changed at all. You were still the same person, in the same place with the same people. Nothing has changed, you were still being tested on and you still had tasks to complete. It was the same old routine, after five years. Everything was the same. Nothing has changed. You thought in the span of those years, something would change, but no. Everything was the same, it was getting tiring. Up to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. The routine was boring and nothing new. You hated it.
That evening, you doing your regular puzzle solving. This puzzles would get difficult and more complicated, but you always managed to complete them. Like always, you were monitored by five White Coats. Three taking notes, one recording with a camera and another just observing your every move. You began to hate being watched, you always had eyes on you. At least during the day, at night was the only time you had some sort of privacy. Even though you should be asleep, you stayed up late. To do your own things in your bedroom. Which was more of a cell. It felt like you were in a cage.
Once you were finished solving the puzzle, you were praised by the five scientists. Their praises used to make you happy, but now you could hear how forced and ingenuine they sounded. You hated when you'd hear them go 'good job!' or 'you did so good 013'. They talked to you as if you were still a child. You hated it. Your routine went on. You ate, you did your climbing and swinging exercises, and learned to speak new words.
Later that night, you went to bed. Except you didn't sleep just yet. You were hiding under your bed with a flash light, looking at the many pictures you drew. Of yourself, your sister A-Thirteen with a mother and father. They looked like a child's drawing, but you liked looking at the picture. Day dreaming that you'd actually have this. You often wondered what a mother and father would be liked. How would it be like to be cared for, along with your sister. You missed her, dearly. She was the only one who'd understand you and you'd understand her.
You'd also have pictures of yourself, but with hair. You really wished you could grow out your hair, but the White coats never allowed it since. Since having a buzzcut would make it easier for them to poke needles in your brain. You wanted long hair because you liked how it looked on the female White Coats and to hide the huge scar on the back on your head. And maybe, just know what it's like to have hair. But sadly, you couldn't. They'd never allow it, no matter what reason.
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The next morning, you had been woken up earlier than most days. That was odd. As you got dressed into a newly cleaned hospital gown and a pair of white shoes. You were informed that you're going to a different facility. A different facility? That'd mean you'd go outside for the first time. You have seen the outside word, but behind a glass. You were never allowed to go outside until now. Where were you going? Who were you going with? Why were you leaving the facility after twenty years? You had so many questions that you wished they'd be answered. You had said your goodbyes to all the White Coats whom you've been with for all those years. Instead of feeling sad, you felt almost relieved. Glad that you were no longer under there care, which meant, no more experiments and no more of that routine you've grown tired of.
While you were being escorted out of the facility by the men covered in black, you had finally stepped foot outside. The fresh air and the wind felt new to you. Never in a million years have you ever smelled the air of outside and felt the cold wind hitting your skin. As much as you wanted to go and explore the wilderness you've read about, you couldn't. As you walked to vehicle, you couldn't help but look around you, getting a good eye of what you've been missing out. You wanted to feel and smell the dirt, even drink the water from the river, but you couldn't. You were required to move asap. You needed to be in another facility immediately.
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The car drive was long and quiet, you were sitting down between two men dressed in black. It felt tense and stiff. It made you feel uncomfortable, but choose to remain as still as possible. You began to think about where you were going would be like. What kind of people you'd meet. Would they be more White Coats? How would those White Coats be like? Will they be other people that weren't White Coats? The questions keep pouring in. For most of the ride you just kept on thinking and thinking of questions that you know would never be asked. No one ever answered your questions.
After a while, the vehicle had stopped. In some part of the woods, it stopped so that you and the men in black could take a break. For fifteen minutes. You were allowed out. You were glad that they were nice enough to let you get some fresh air. As much as you wanted to explore the woods, you couldn't. You were only allowed to go a few feet away from the vehicle and had to come back after the fifteen minutes.
You walked around a bit, getting a view of the tall trees. They were much bigger then you thought. You couldn't help but feel how rough and hard the wood felt. It almost made you feel as if you wanted to climb it. Your attention then switched to the wet dirt, it must have rained the night before. It smelt nice, very comforting in a way that you never thought would bring you comfort. You reached down and took a small clump of it, feeling how soft and wet it was. It was nice, very nice to smell and touch. You wanted to see more.
So, you walked much further than you should've. Looking around more trees and even more dirt. But you also got the look of some plants and bugs you've read about in some books about them. Everything was new to you. You've always dreamed about going outside, just to see how it would look like. Now it was true, even if it only took you fifteen minutes, you wanted to enjoy every part of it. Since who knows how long it'll be if you ever go outside. You were loving the moment.
Then, you spotted a flower. It was a very pretty small and the color blue. They were called 'Forget-Me-Not', you've always wanted to see them in person, instead in book pages. You wanted to take some and maybe even keep wherever you were sent to. You got on your knees and plucked a huge amount of them. Once in your hand, you looked at them closely. Studying the color, shape and smell. You couldn't help but smile, when you looked at the small plants in your hands. You've fallen in love with them already. You were to focused on looking at the flowers that you didn't hear the men in black calling out to you. Finally, after snapping out of your thoughts, you heard them call you. As much as you didn't want to go, you had to.
You didn't notice that you were standing right near a hill, when you got up, your foot must have made a wrong move. That you ended up falling down the hill. You squealed and groaned as you rolled down the hill. After a few seconds, you had fallen into a river. The harsh water of the waterfall had dragged you down the riverbank, you got hit with rocks and branches in the water. You tried finding a way out, but the water just kept dragging you with it. Until you had finally spotted a branch and held onto it with all your strength. Despite being in pain, you managed to hold onto the branch. You were glad that you were okay. But the problem was, where did the river take you?
You managed to get out of the water and back on the ground. You were drenched. Your shoes and hospital gown were wet. You quickly felt cold. Your whole body began to shiver, so as a way to warm yourself up, you hugged your body. Your teeth were chattering against one another's and the wild got colder. You didn't want to stay there, you had to move. Maybe you could find the lab again, but you had no idea where to search. You've never been outside, so you wouldn't know where to start.
So, you just walked wherever you thought would help you, but no. You had no idea what to do or where to look. You were getting confused and unsure of what to do. Should you keep on walking or just stay where you were and hoped that they'd come find you. It was getting overwhelming. As you walked, you couldn't help but begin to breath a bit rapidly. You were about to go into a panic. You began to bite your finger nails, while your free hand was clenching onto the short sleeve on your hospital gown. It didn't help that you were cold because of your wet shoes and gown.
Suddenly, you tripped. Must have been cause you were walking fast and didn't see where you were going. Turning on your back, you looked down at your wet and dirt covered shoes. They were getting uncomfortable now. So you reached over and took them off your feet. Then threw them in a form of frustration. Not only where you lost, but you were cold and now barefoot. You let out a small frustrating snarl. That was something you'd do when you'd get mad. Afterwards, you got up from the ground, dusting off the dirt off your arms and legs. Your wet gown was now even more dirty. God, you hated what was happening now.
Then, you heard noises. Turning to see where they were coming from, you saw nothing. But you did notice some bushes moving as soon as you set your eyes on them. That made your stomach turn. Was something out there? Without a moment more, you began to walk again, but this time a bit faster. You could still hear bushes and leaves making noises, due to something hitting them. You grew into a panic, so you began to run, with the help of your knuckles. Hoping that you'd you'd go much faster. But again, you didn't see where you were going, and tripped again. This time you fell on your side, hitting your cheek onto the dirt, causing it to scrape. It hurt, a lot.
As you tried getting up, you heard bushes shaking and leaving hitting each other. You got up and looked around, trying to find the source of the noises. But you couldn't see them, except just hear them. You began to panic even more. What was it? An animal of some kind? If it was, what kind of animal? After a few moments, you spotted a pair of eyes. Blue eyes, to be exact. They were looking right back at you. That was odd, you couldn't tell if they were eyes of a human or an animal. They looked human, but they didn't feel human.
Slowly, they moved. Which made you back up a bit, now scared of what will come out. Carefully and slowly, they had finally stepped out of their hiding spot. It was, an ape. You've never seen another ape before. You were amazed by how he looked. As much as you wanted to get close, you kept your distance. You and the ape just stared at one another, almost as if you both wanted to figure out what you both were. After that small moment of silence, more apes began to pop out of their hiding spot. That made you panic a bit.
Looking around, you saw that they were a few more apes in all your directions. You had no place to attempt to run. Then, they began to approached you slowly. You grew scared, you had no idea what kind of intension they had or what they'd do. You back up, trying to find a way to run, but they was no place to run to. You began to fall into distress. You had backed up into a tree, you no had nowhere to go. As the apes approached you even more. You gone into panic mode. You began to scream and shout at them. Your screams of both fear and panic had caused them to stop in there tracks. They simply watched as you continued to scream in a panic.
What had caught their attention, was how your screams sounded very similar to theirs. They were very similar to an ape's scream. Eventually you stomped screaming, you crouched down and covered your head with both arms, breathing heavily and trying to catch your breath. As if you just wanted to disappear from that place. It grew quiet, all that was heard was your whimpers and heavy breathing. After some time, you heard someone approaching you, but you did not move from your position. You stayed where you were and didn't plan on moving at all. That was something you'd do when the White Coats would either beat you with a rod or tase you when you'd go ballistic.
You felt how a hand softly patted your shoulder. You still didn't move, until you felt the same soft pat on the shoulder. Slowly, you look ever the shoulder where you have been patted on. It was another ape, except. He looked much older than the one with blue eyes. You could see the bit of grey hairs around his chin and cheeks. His eyes were hazel like color, but they were more green. They too looked human, except they weren't. Just like the first ape you saw, you both locked eyes, staring at each other for a moment. You began to slowly calm down, for some reason you felt slightly better. Less panic and a bit more relaxed.
You then noticed how he reached his hand out to you. At first, you weren't so sure, whether you should take it or not. But after a bit of thinking, you took a hold of his hand. He then helped you get up from the floor. The ape was almost exactly your size. You weren't neither short or big, you were right in between. He seemed to also be right in between, but seemed slightly bigger than you. "You are safe." He said in a raspy but firm voice. You were still a bit shaken up by everything, but you were calm and collected. He continued to hold his hand, as a kind of comfort and to keep you calm. He then turned to the other apes, signing them that everything was alright and to stay put.
He looked back at you, seen that you were much calmer and relaxed. "Come." He said to you, lowly and comfortingly. You only nodded your head in response. After that was settled, he continued to hold your hand and processed to get you to follow him. So you did, you followed right behind him. Holding his rough hand. Then the rest of the other apes processed to follow behind you both. He must have been there leader of some kind. They listened to him when he singed them to stay put. But, your question was, where were you going? Where was he taking you? It didn't really matter to you at the moment. You just wanted to get out of that dreadful situation you were in just now. Hopefully where you were taken to, wasn't another lab of some kind.
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ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ
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coolestzed · 4 months
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Alright, I’ve been holding this inside for years but I’m finally gonna say it.
Misako haters are actually fucking annoying at this point.
They always were to me, but now, they’re just OBJECTIVELY an annoyance. And they need to STOP.
They take literally ANY chance to slander her, even when it’s completely unwarranted. Like, I’d just look at a picture of her on Pinterest, and there’d be multiple comments going "the world’s worst mother". Or I’d see content about Koko and there’d always be comments comparing her and Misako and going like "Koko way better fuck Misako".
I’d even see a fucking meme and people would slander Misako. Like they couldn’t resist.
And that’s not even mentioning his people constantly make her seem way worse than she actually is. Im not gonna quote everything, but basically they act like she never does good things for Lloyd. That she doesn’t care about him at all! And it’s just- so WILDY out of character!! And it’s the same vice versa! I saw a funny Ninjago video the other day with a "your mom" joke and someone in the comments was like "jokes on you, Lloyd would never call Misako mom". I’m just?????? Yes he DOES????? ALL THE TIME???
People just act like their relationship is nonexistent! Like they don’t care about each other, or that Misako doesn’t care about Lloyd! Which is OBVIOUSLY not true!
People claim that she disappears every other season but the only seasons she was absent in are 12 and 13. Also, she has a job. She goes on expeditions. Obviously she’s not there 100% of the time. And she and Lloyd clearly spend time together off screen.
People don’t even acknowledge the reason why she left in the first place. They act like she dropped him off at a boarding school and dipped to take a vaycay. She was literally trying to stop her husband and son from having to fight to the death. You ever think about that? You ever think about how SHE felt in the situation? With her husband being consumed by evil and later being banished, and learning that he and their son would have to fight each other? She was HORRIFIED and GRIEVING! Ultimately she did it to save her family. It doesn’t make leaving Lloyd right but it’s understandable.
But apparently not to almost all of the fandom.
Most of y’all, completely ignore that, and everything else that came after season 2.
Misako constantly being worried about Lloyd in Tournament of Elements and Possession.
Both of them spending Day of the Departed together.
Her getting/building the Destiny’s Shadow as a birthday gift for Lloyd.
How she supported, fought beside, and risked her life for Lloyd in Hunted.
How she wanted to stay and fight with him during MoTO but only went inside because Lloyd urged her to protect the civilians.
Not to mention just their general interactions. THEY’RE ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER!!! Do you know how many times they hug?!
And this dialogue here:
"Aren’t you going to kiss your mother goodbye?"
"Mooom, we've-we've talked about this-"
WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!
Lloyd and Misako have a good, healthy and loving relationship. Misako has long since made up for her mistake and they’ve moved on.
Yet THE FANDOM REFUSES TO!!!
EVERYONE, TO THIS DAY, STILL TREATS HER LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL!!!
I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE HAVE HAD OVERDRAMATIC TANTRUMS FROM HER JUST EXISTING.
IT MAKES ME SO UNREASONABLY ANGRY.
AND THE FACT THAT I’VE SOMEHOW BEEN SEEING EVEN MORE MISAKO HATE DURING AND AFTER MOTHERS DAY IS ACTUALLY APPALLING.
NOT EVEN FUCKING ENDEAVOR FROM MHA GETS THIS MUCH HATE AND HE’S DONE MUCH WORSE TO HIS FAMILY.
IT. HAS. BEEN. OVER. 16. SEASONS. AND. A. MOVIE.
GET. OVER. IT.
*deep breath*
Look, she’s not perfect. Obviously. She fucked up. But who in this series hasn’t? She came back, and she’s made sure to be a better mother to Lloyd. He forgave her, and they have a good relationship now. They’re close.
She wouldn’t be as hated if the writers didn’t do her dirty. Her introduction wasn’t handled the best, and having her and Lloyd have a more in depth discussion would’ve made the reunion and forgiveness feel less rushed and forced. That love triangle with Wu and Garmadon certainly didn’t do her any favors either. 😑
Regardless, her character’s gotten better over the seasons. Again, she and Lloyd and close and have a good relationship.
But hardly anyone acknowledges that, almost everyone in the fandom hyper fixates on that one mistake from years ago. They don’t pay attention to anything else. Like how she’s a better mother, or how she’s just a generally good person.
You aren’t supposed to judge characters or irl people solely on their past mistakes. Especially when they’ve already made up for them. Thats why the "Misako’s a horrible mother" statement is always bullshit to me.
Seriously, Misako’s been a part of Lloyd’s life longer than she’s been absent from it at this point.
The amount of passionate, unforgiving hate she gets is so undeserved and over the top. Too many people are projecting their own issues onto her. Or just being plain hateful. It’s not fair to define her entire character on a single mistake that she’s long made up for.
And it’s definitely not fair to people that actually like Misako. Often times on the few positive posts about her, there’d be Misako haters in the notes or reblogs complaining about her or insulting her, or just stating they hate her but love the content. And that is completely uncool and rude. It’s so unnecessary. You don’t do that, that’s so shitty. The again Misako haters have a habit of spouting unnecessary hate. Like it’s a terminal condition they have.
So, please, for the love of god, COOL IT. Stop and think, try to ACTUALLY look at her character without the veil of blind hatred.
If you still dislike or hate her, fine! But if you’re gonna detest her, at least hate her as she is and don’t make her worse than she actually is to justify hating her more.
And PLEASE stop bashing her at every turn, it’s annoying, upsetting, unwarranted, unnecessary, and just not good.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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comingdownwithme · 12 days
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PLEASE I WANT MORE TICCIJEFF LORE I NEED TO HEAR MORE ABT IT!!!! IT SEEMS FUNNN!!!!
Ask and you shall receive! I don't have anything too concrete in regards to the silly lil background I made for this ship, so it's probably subject to change later (Especially since I haven't been caught up on the more recent updates on any of the Creepypastas' stories), but here it is anyways! (And have a stupid bonus doodle while we're at it because I couldn't help myself)
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Basically, the Woods and Rogers family lived in the same neighborhood for most of their lives, and the kids met during some social event like some neighborhood party. Liu (8) was the first to spot Toby (10) and mentioned how weird he was to Jeff (13) , who- instead of taking it as a deterrent- walked up, told him bluntly that his lil brother thought he was a weirdo, and promptly introduced himself. Thus started a friendship filled with genuine care and sincerity alongside the usually teenage dumbassery! (With Liu being dragged along on occasion against his will)
Jeff was always patient with Toby. Even when his tics and stutters got bad he'd always stay by his side, made sure the other boy had someone he could talk to, someone who would listen, someone who even bothered to try and understand him. And Toby, in turn, would do the same, even when Jeff's own thoughts scared him on some days. The two were near inseparable as years went by, moreso when they continued on with school where Toby would be bullied or judged.
(If Jeff let the awful, curious temptation simmering under his skin let loose, sending a student or two to the nurse after a particularly bad insult, who's to say)
One day though, Jeff and Liu's parents made the decision to move to a better place when their dad landed a good job. They'd be able to go to some place bigger, get things they were never able to get, learn under a school that offers better opportunities.
Jeff would've been happy- especially since the rest of his family seemed to be- if he wouldn't be leaving his best friend.
The weeks before the move was tense, especially in the Woods' household. How the hell were you just supposed to leave a staple part of your life? To let go of something- someone who had been such an integral part of it?
(Would he be ok? How's he going to make it through school? Who's gonna talk to 'im when his dad is out again- God knows where?)
(If Jeff cared a little more, felt a little more than the average friend, who's to say)
Still, the duo tried to spend the time they had, tried to make sure Jeff would leave without any regrets.
When the Woods' boys were packing their last things into their car, the Rogers family standing aside, watching their close, family friends as they prepare their leave, the two teens promised they'd keep in touch.
Years down the line, a white-hooded monster would reminisce about better days as he held a cigarette between bloodstained fingers, wondering what might have been if they had just stayed. The maddening, burning pyre of grief and anger that fueled his bloody venture had simmered into a low, thrumming heat in his melancholy, and the man wondered what his best friend would've thought of him now after everything, after one tragedy after another turned him into something even he considers to be less than human.
Somewhere, deep in the woods, a man, haunted by the glimpses of a life he was never supposed to remember, grips his axe in a white-knuckled grip.
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 5 months
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How murderous is Karkat and Eridan?
Eridan: "killin is all i evver done practically the ocean wwas my killing cauldron"
Karkat: loves his friends so much that it hurts
They're both really blasé about killing things like imps or game enemies, and neither of them WANT to hurt their friends. Eridan's just more used to it because it was his whole job, and he's a lot better at fighting than Karkat is.
Vriska at one point says to John that her bodycount is probably "many thousands," so we can probably use that as a reference and assume Eridan's in that same bracket, because he and Vriska have a lot of parallels. In fact, I'd go so far as to call Vriska and Eridan a literary device called "parallel characters" - by listening to Vriska tell John about her feelings about her bodycount and of her place in society, we get to learn about how Eridan's feeling, too.
If we set the bar at 3000 (the low end of "many thousands") and Vriska and Eridan are both the equivalent of 13 years old, or a little less than 700 weeks, that meant he and Vriska were averaging out to multiple kills a week (and given they probably didn't start when they were newhatches and 3000 is a low estimate, like... it was probably an insane number like 5-7 kills/week). But never anyone they "cared about," in Vriska's words, until the Team Charge debacle, or Eridan went berserk on Feferi and Sollux (we should also keep in mind that Eridan outright says to Kanaya that he doesn't want to kill people he considers his friends).
But Eridan is significantly less emotionally intelligent than Vriska (a fucking feat), has less of a support system, and has a lot of Duty and Responsibility and Fate of the Species on his shoulders, so he copes a lot worse (again, a fucking feat). For Eridan, it's less about "being murderous," and more about "society demands that I be murderous" + "if I am not murderous, everybody dies" + "when I grow up, murder is my only viable career path".
He's ANXIOUS AS FUCK at his core. Via their parallel character status, we know from Vriska that they're both actually really nervous about growing up and taking their place in a society that demands bloodshed from them. When Eridan obsesses over genocide, it's a byproduct of Literally Being The Guy That Is Preventing Genocide (to the point of not really having other hobbies). We also know that he feels guilt towards his victims (or at least more than Feferi), which we know from Vriska is societally unacceptible. And if it's unacceptible for her to feel bad, then imagine how much less okay it is for the sea dweller.
So I wouldn't necessarily call Eridan murderous - like with most things regarding Eridan, it's more complicated than that - but I would call him "on a hair trigger", "conditioned to reach towards murder as an early solution," and "obsessively/anxiously trying to live up to how murderous society demands he be," all while not at all wanting to kill people he cares about. I think it's really important to note that, even though the higher the blood the more volatile the troll, and despite being unauspiced and unmoirailled, and without relying on sopor, Eridan did not start shooting to kill until Sollux and Feferi escalated the situation.
And before anyone mentions that Feferi's in the same boat, she spends practically the whole time with Sollux, who is foreshadowed to be her moirail.
Like, the tragedy of Eridan's character is that he's lonely and terrified, but does such a good job at putting up an obnoxious front that even a lot of the audience became convinced that he basically sucked and his problems didn't matter. His dumbass plan to go to Jack was a genuine attempt to save Feferi, the person he cared most about.
If you go back and look at that conversation, Eridan's casual casteist threats aren't genuine (see my pinned Eridan essay for details) - and SOLLUX is the one who says "I should have killed you when I had the chance". And Eridan DOESN'T KILL SOLLUX, because this whole time, Eridan has not wanted to kill his friends. It's not until Feferi - the person he cares most about, the one whom he concocted that suicidal mission in order to save - turns on him in agreement that Sollux should've killed him - that makes Eridan finally lose it.
Meanwhile, Karkat just loves his friends. He loves them so fucking much. I think this is pretty well-documented about him? He's got no qualms about murdering game constructs like imps and the black king, but he feels deeply fucking hurt and betrayed by Bec Noir since he bonded with Jack/Spades Slick. I don't think Karkat ever makes a genuine death threat against anybody but past!Eridan, but he and Eridan are heavily foreshadowed to be moirails, and that conversation has a hilarious bit in the middle where Karkat seemingly forgets that he's mad at the guy and just starts telling him he's a dumbass. Later on, he expresses missing his dead friends, including/especially the assholes, in the same segment as the meteor runs into dead Feferi and Eridan, so I think that that was more an angry outburst than a genuine desire to see Eridan dead.
In fact, even though he's basically shown nothing but scorn for Gamzee and Gamzee's religious beliefs and clown-ness, and even after Gamzee murders two people and seems to be trying to murder them all, Karkat can't bring himself to kill or even fight the guy, just shooshpap him down, later ranting that Gamzee was a lovable bullshit clown that he liked a lot, and (one of) his best friend(s).
So they're both in this boat of not wanting to kill their friends, but feeling societally pressured into grandstanding that they're TOTALLY murderous assholes just trust me - but Eridan was in a position where he was forced to do it at the detriment of any other hobbies, or else everybody died, and is also one of the best fighters on the team, if not THE best. Thus, the fact that it's a viable option is not only near the forefront of his mind at all times, but he has the skills to resort to it. I guess technically, that does make him more murderous, but it's also, like... any normal person in his situation would wind up the same way, honestly.
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catandcrown · 15 days
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Tally-Ho Chums! 'Tis I! Leto! The Goblin Emperor! This took an absolute age, but he's finally done. This is my character, Leto, from the Wildemount campaign I play currently. He is a level 9 Goblin Paladin (Oath of the Crown), an absolute beast in a fight, and a fan of sweets. He wears armour made out of trash, old pieces of scrap metal he hammered together himself, and he has one massive ambition, to unite all goblins under one banner, so that they can have better access to healthcare, education and dental benefits. Furthermore, he is 13 years old, so fully grown for a goblin, and the crown he found in a bin is actually a headband of intellect, meaning he's only 1 point off the same intelligence score as our resident Wizard, so his plans for a goblin capital are surprisingly detailed and comprehensive. Along with that, he currently has a plus 12 in persuasion, so the shenanigans he gets away with in Wildemount are fantastic. I use a Matt Berry style voice for him, and he is one of the funniest characters I've ever played as, and one of the strongest, too. This was an incredibly hard piece. I've been struggling with a lot of art based stuff recently. My focus is all over the place because of my health, and I nearly lost my mind repainting the cape no less than 9 times. There was a lot of self-doubt over the months I've put into him between work and commissions, and I really need to learn that it's OK for things not to be perfect, and whilst I'm still not 100% happy with him, I'm glad to finally have him done and posted for you all to see. Hope you like him! <3
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