#which as much as i enjoy writing all i can see when i do it is all my flaws

[angelfrombeneth]

SECRET - A . DONALDSON

Sexual Content Ahead

Art Donaldson x Fem!ChubbyReader

Summary: Where you and Art are 'secretly' hooking up without your friends knowing.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Born with barely any plot, Art is slightly pathetic in this, Reader loves a cheeky ass grab.

Note: This one is a quick one I rushed, because I'm writing a nice long Art fic for yall. So please enjoy this for now.

If you told yourself 3 years ago that you'd be sat on some bleachers watching tennis you wouldn't believe it.

You were never interested in tennis, you knew about it obviously but it was never your thing.

You came to Stanford as an international student due to the fat scholarship you recieved so you packed your bags from London to California.

That is where you met Tashi Duncan, your best friend. She introduced herself to you one day in the library after hearing you tap away to the music playing in your headphones. It was a close call, she saved you from another warning from the librarian.

Tashi and you were inseparable. Learning about eachother more you discovered she played tennis and was quite well known but you had no clue. She found this a breath of fresh air as everyone knew of her some how. She put it down to the fact your from a different country additionally to your lack of interest of the sport.

Tashi coaxed you to come watch her warm ups and games - which you did being a great friend. But you sported to opening your sketchbook and sketching out the scene infront of you additionally. Might aswell do a research project on human posing and what better sport that tennis.

After your first semester you noticed Tashi always hanging out with this tall lanky man. He seemed nice but, you'd never seen him around. She told you he was her 'thing' which made you both laugh over lunch one time. She had mentioned he will be around alot more and he has a friend and that's when you met Art Donaldson, and well. The rest is history.

It had been a good year since you met Patrick and Art and you four were now a little quad. Despite the three of them being raging tennis players and you just sat on the side line they didn't mind.

You did try to take up a sport but it just wasn't for you, after Tashi found you face down in a bush after a 100m sprint.

You were watching Art play against someone from another University - you weren't listening to their name though.

Tashi and Patrick sat beside you, gasping and groaning, cheering and whooping at what was going on in the game but you only knew so much.

In the year you've known Art, you two had a great bond and tend to.. dip into eachothers bonds from time to time. You had no clue if Tashi or Patrick knew about your occasional flings with Art, you both never aired it nor got caught it just happened sometimes.

But as of late, you can't take your eyes off him. The way his shorts ride up his muscly thighs as he jumps from one end of the court to the other. The way his hair bounces but also sticks to his forehead due to his sweat. You were slightly obsessed.

You wouldn't say you had feelings for him, it never got deep enough for that. But you craved him. You craved every single inch of him and how he'd just melt into your hand.

"COME ON!!" You jump slightly as you were ripped out of your daydream as Tashi flew up beside you screaming as you looked at Art celebrating on the court.

You smiled, standing up and clapping as you grabbed everyone's coats and bags as Tashi and Patrick dashed off to see Art.

Climbing down the stairs was tricky balancing everything but as soon as you saw Tashi and Patrick bust through the door of the court as they piled onto Art you smiled. Walking towards them as you put down the stuff.

Art turned to you smiling, walking up to you and pulling you in for a hug. It wasn't unusual just took you off guard.

"We should celebrate! Let's go out for dinner" Tashi smiled.

"I love a good dinner" You smiled as they all chuckled at you.

You got changed for the dinner into a little black dress, you can never go wrong with it. Tashi texted you earlier her and Patrick will be late - which you assumed they were fucking in his car yet again. Dinners cancelled you assumed.

You walked over to Arts dorm, knocking on the door as it swung open to reveal a slightly disheaved Art as he stared at you. Shirtless and in the tightest pair of shorts ever.

"Did you forget we are going to dinner-"

"No- I was just.. working out" He spoke slightly.

You looked him up and down, a knowing smirk on your face.

"You can't hide it from me" You laughed. Art's face contorted as he looked at you confused as you swiped your hand over the very obvious bulge in his boxers before walking past him into his room.

He doubled over, groaning as he shut the door as you laughed, sitting on his desk chair.

"I thought Tashi was taking you to the restaurant?" He dove onto his bed, laying on his stomach as he scrunched a pillow up at leaned against it looking at you. God he looked so pathetic. Ass up and everything.

"Seems she got preoccupied with Patrick, I got this" You pulled up the text and turned it around to show Art.

"We definitely won't make it to the restaurant now" He laughed.

You stood up, dropping your bag on the chair as you walked over to Art, sitting by his head as he looked up at you.

"What do you wanna do then?" You caressed his cheek, smiling down at him.

"I have a few ideas.." His head turned to kiss your palm as his lips made its way up your arm till he was on his knees infront of you.

You stared at him blankly, sucking in your bottom lip as you took in the situation. You both paused for a brief moment staring at eachother.

You leaned in, kissing him roughly as your hands dropped to his back, pulling him closer as his hands slid up the back of your dress as he squeezed your ass. One thing about Art he loved your ass.

The pair of you tumbling with one another as you yanked down his boxers slightly as the back, grabbing a chunk of his ass with his hand as you sucked onto his tongue. A soft moan leaving his lips as you yanked down his boxers completely rolling over as you caged him below you.

"Mm- want you- s'bad" You pulled at his lip as you sucked on it, grinding down against his bare cock as you reached to pull your dress off in one swift motion.

"Fuck- good girl-" He groaned as he unclasped your bra throwing it off as he pulled your neck and pulled you back into another kiss. It was passionate but needy. The way his tongue slipped in and out of your mouth had you yearning for more. You reached down to wriggle out of your panties as you kicked them off to the side before you held the base of his dick. Running it between your slit as you gasped, pulling away from the kiss.

You bit your lip, sighing as you bucked your hips against his tip. Your hands sliding up over your breasts as you peered down at him. "You piss me off how fucking hot you are. Why are you so fucking hot" You groaned, grinding down harder against him as he harshly gasped.

"Shut up" He whined lightly as he grabbed your hip, lifting you up so he could grab his cock and curve it up towards your entrance as he dropped you down against his abdomen as his cock slipped up inside of you. "Fuck-" You both yelped in unison.

You peered down at him, chuckling softly as you let out soft moans as you rocked back and forth against him. "Oh fuck-" You grit your teeth as your hand slid down his chest as you rocked back and forth. Your thighs slightly twitching as your eyes threatened to roll back.

"Such a good girl f'me aren't you" He smirked, sliding a hand up overs your stomach. This was something Art tended to do. You knew you were chubbier that other girls you'd seen him with before but he was definitely into it. His smile grew as he slid them further up to grip your breast as he squeezed and toyed with it.

You smirked down at him, leaning forward slightly, pecking his lips as your ass rebounded against his abdomen as you dropped down on him continously as you rode him.

"Good.." You spoke with breathy moans as light whines escaped Art's lips as he stared into your eyes. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. The way his eyes watched you.

His hands dropped from your breasts, gripping onto the plush of your thighs as he whined slightly, spreading his legs below you.

You could feel his hips thrusting up into your for more, as you bit your lip moaning lightly. "Yessss~ fuck. Art- s-so good" You yelped as his hands gripped your waist before flipping you onto your back. The movement shocked you but the second he got his balance he began to piston into you.

You reached back, grabbing the headboard of the bed as you yelped. Whines and moans pouring from your mouth as Art demolished you. His hips slamming into you. His balls slapping into your ass as the bed creaked below the pair of you. One of his hands, gripping at a chunk of your thigh as his thumb caressed against the skin. The other, reaching for one of yours as your fingers interlocked with one another.

You reached forward grabbing his ass harshly with your free hand, as you squeezed it, looking up at him, biting your lip.

His mouth ghosting over yours as he let out soft whines and groans - just like he does in tennis. Fuck do you love the sounds he makes when he's playing fucking tennis...

"Yes- Fuck Art please.. Harder" you groaned, your hand removing from his as they both flew to his back, your nails scratched down it as he pounded harder into you.

His groans got louder and needier, as his hands returned to your chunk sides, his fingers dug harder into your hip. His thrusts became sloppier, you knew he was close.

Art threw your legs over his shoulders as he slammed back into you. A guttural moan yelping from your throat as you shrieked, his pace quickening as you whined. Your nails digging into his shoulder as your back arched down against him as your eyes rolled back as you drew closer to your climax.

He knew you were close abd so was he. He continue to pump into you as fast as he could till you both came undone. Both cumming together, his head hung low as he watched a mixture of your releases create a ring at the bottom of his cock as he thrusted a few more times, dragging the pair of you through the high.

"Fuck-" He groaned as he pulled out, biting his lip as he leaned back on his legs as he stared down at you panting.

You looked at the disheaved boy infront of you, you couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle as he panted.

"S'good as always" You smiled, sitting up as you pecked his lips.

Art leaned forward, kissing you deeper as his hand snaked around your neck, pulling you closer as he kissed you. You hummed softly, your tongue swiping over his lips as the kiss grew more heated.

Before the pair of you could even consider a second round a loud string of knocks banged against the door.

The two of you pulled away and froze. Your hand pressed against his chest, your other frozen as you stroked his cock. His hands cupping your face as the pair of you just stared at each other.

After a while no knocks were heard so you were going to continue till another string of loud knocks.

"Fuck" You hissed as the pair of you both stood up, grabbing your clothes as you tried to quickly dress.

Your dress nowhere to be seen amongst the large pile of clothes. "Art where the fuck is my dress-" You whispered shouted.

"Shhh!-" He quipped. You grabbed his dress shirt he was wearing off the floor and threw it on over your underwear. He was scrambling around the room looking for his shirt when he looked at you wearing it.

He quickly pulled on his trousers and opened his wardrobe for a tshirt as he stumbled to the door. You stood behind him.

You don't know what you both expected or who you expected to be behind the door. But the colour drained from both of your faces as the door revealed your two friends.

"I texted you Y/N that we were outside 10 minutes ago but I can see you were occupied" Tashi raises her eyebrow, a sickly smirk across her face.

You gulped as you stared at her, smiling awkwardly.

"Tash- did you figure out where Y/N was-" Patrick's voice could be heard down the hall as he gained closer to the door. Stopping behind Tashi as he stared at you and Art. "Fucking knew it" He laughed.

[cherriesformatt]

sand || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt surprised you with your dream date because he saw some tiktoks you reposted about it

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,3k

a/n: I saw this on TikTok and it was just so cute I had to write about it. Thank you guys for all the love under few last stories. I am really happy ily all! Remember English is not my first language so be patient with me! Now enjoy its so cheesy...

🍒

Matt told me this morning to get ready for a day because he is taking me out off town for a day. I was exited because the weather was beautiful today and it was so sunny and warm. May grey was making me wanna scream because it was so literally grey and foggy all the time so I was happy that sun was out (and if I'm lucky someones son is going to be inside me 😎 my fav joke to annoy matt). I wore a nice sundress and curled my hair. I did light makeup and I was waiting for Matt to pick me up. When he texted me that he was here I took my purse and sunglasses and went out. I locked my apartment and walked to the elevator that took me to the garage. I did not have a car so Matt always parked on my parking spot which came with my apartment. I smiled when I saw him leaning on his car.

"Hi..."I smiled at him and waved walking in his direction.

"Hi... you look beautiful baby" He pushed himself up and opened arms for me.

"So do you..." I smiled and threw my arms around his neck and kissed him lightly.

He was wearing denim shorts, white nikes and sleeveless black tee. His tattoos were showing. I loved them so much. His hair was fluffy and he had sunglasses on them taking some of his hair back. He looked so good.

"Get in loser were going to the beach" He said again after I moved away and patted my bum.

"Aw great I am so happy... the weather is so beautiful today and did you just quote mean girls? Who are you?" I said and got into the car after he opened the door for me. We were standing on the passenger side anyways.

"I know how you love the beach in spring time so I decided we could have some time on a nice beach...Malibu? And thats your fault you watch it all the time"He smiled.

I loved going up to Malibu. And yes I did love mean girls.

"I love you Matthew" I said happily and he laughed and closed my doors and went to his side. I loved him the most tho.

While we were driving I connected my phone to the aux and put some music on from our shared playlist so I did not have to listen to Matt's whine about my songs.

"So I am thinking brunch, ice cream and then beach or do you wanna take food to the beach? I have some snacks and drinks for us too" He said.

"We can take food to the beach" I said and he nodded agreeing with me.

"Cos he was sunshine I was midnigh...."I looked at Matt so he could finish singing.

"Rain...."He sang and I smiled.

"Oh how world would love you for singing Taylor" I laughed.

"It is you special only, I am not singing to anyone else" He said.

"You're in a good mood today.... Chris and Nick didn't have a chance to piss you off today?" I put my hand on his knee and stroked it gently.

"They were still sleeping when I left but I told them yesterday that were going away for a day and yes I am in a good mood because I missed you and you are so cute in your dress and I am exited about our date" He said and also put his hand on my thigh and left it there.

"Aww do its a date?" I smiled.

"Yes, it's a date...." He smiled as well.

Whole drive we were talking and singing and talking shit about other drivers and people because thats us.

When we finally arrived at Malibu we stopped to get some food and then we drove to the beach.

"What's that?" I asked when Matt took a bag from the trunk after he handed me food and drinks along with a blanket.

"You will see" He said.

"Okay..."I said looking at him suspiciously.

We settled down far from other people so we could have some privacy just in case someone would recognized Matt.

"So... I bought this" He took out glue and canvas from the bag.

"Oh my god....Matt how did you know I wanted to do this?" I gasped happily knowing already what is it all for.

"I follow you on TikTok you know" He laughed what made my laughed as well. I forgot I must have reposted some TikTok about this.

"Can I make a TikTok from this?" I asked him.

"Of course you can but let's eat first because knowing us we will get glue everywhere" He smiled.

"Probably.... Matt thats so cute I can't believe... you're the best boyfriend ever and like I never had to beg you for a good date.... you always just do this out of nowhere and it's been almost two years" I said.

Time with Matt was my favorite time of my life. He was my everything and I don't even remember who I was before I met him.

"Well.. I am trying out here, so are you, you're the best" He put some of my hair behind my ear.

I got up on my knees and kissed him. I loved him so much and it was all so cute that I couldn't resist.

"Our food will be cold" He laughed in my lips and I peck his lips one more time and moved to sit down on my spot.

We ate and opened some drinks. Then Matt went to throw away empty food containers while I prepared the canvas and glue.

"Ready?"I smiled and he gave me his hand.

I put some glue on in and distributed it all over his hand with my own.

Then we sticked our hands to the canvas.

"I hope it's going to work" I said while putting sand on one when he was putting sand on other.

Then we cleaned the access of the sand and only our sandy hand prints were left on the white canvas.

"Oh it's so cute Matt! It worked" I said.

"It did... here, you write our initials on mine and I will on yours" He handed me pastel pink marker. Pastel pink was my favorite color.

I did what he said and on the back I left a little note and the date.

"Let's go cleaned our hands?" He asked and I nodded.

We went to clean our hands in the ocean and came back. After we packed everything we took a walk by the shore and came back to the car.

"Would you like to stay at my place tonight?" He asked while we were driving.

"Yes... you have to show me how much you missed me" I winked at him and he laughed.

"You're impossible" He shook his head.

I edited the TikTok and posted it. It was very cute and I sent a picture to the group chat we had with his brothers.

"Your brother just called you a lover boy" I said and laughed.

"He can fuck himself" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh Matty but you are my loverboy...."I looked at him with a big smile.

"I will drop you off in your apartment actually" He said and it made me laugh even more.

"Okay okay I am done" I put my hands up in defense.

"Thought so..."He said and put his hand on my upper thigh under my dress. It made my body cover with goosebumps.

I smiled.

"Thank you for today... I loved every second of it" I told him.

"Don't thank me just yet...the night is still young sweetheart" He winked at me.

"Oh my god, he winked everybody" I said and put my hand on my lips acting surprised.

"Okay that's it, you're walking home, I am stopping right here" He laughed.

"You love me too much" I said.

" You right, I do..."He said back and took my hand to his lips and kissed it gently and then left both of our hands on his tight.

I was the luckiest girl in the whole world.

[green-alm0nd]

Love your writing so much! Can you please do some separate headcanons of the bad batch who get assigned a female!general who’s super sweet and a total scaredy cat? Because of this, they’re SUPER protective (and jealous) of their dear general, especially when it comes to other regs! And of course as time passes, they begin to develop a crush on her

Hello! Of course I can! :p

[The Bad Batch x Jedi!fem!reader (headcanons)]: "I could never choose to love another"

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Summary:

In which the Bad Batch member you're in love with falls for you too.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: protective Batch, jealousy, fluff, Crosshair having a panic attack, and that's pretty much it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: Thank you <3 and I hope you enjoy your request!

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HUNTER:

When Hunter first heard of becoming a general's squadron, he couldn't believe it. He and his brothers had been rejected by the Republic (in general), and suddenly, someone wants five clones on their squad? Unbelievable.

However, Hunter knew you were different when you first showed up and tripped over your own Jedi robe, got up, smiled and extended a hand to him. There was something in your eyes that made you different from the rest of the Jedi.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to meet you. At first, it was the usual jokes to break the ice; usual, playful banter; calm nights talking to his brothers... That's when Hunter saw your sweet side. There's a point where he started calling you by your real name whenever you were alone.

He literally became your protector, keeping you out of trouble whenever he could, avoiding food cantina fights so that you wouldn't get hurt, etc. he know you can defend yourself, but there was always something that made him protective over you and his brothers.

Another reason you gave Hunter to be more protective over you was the fact that you got scared pretty easy. And, cherry on top, whenever Hunter saw you with regs, he'd become jealous and probably try to get you away from the regs as much as possible.

He didn't make it super obvious, of course. Then, he realised he might have fallen for you. However, he knew it was unprofessional, so he'd keep it to himself.

Though, he could not hide the slight blush that came over his face whenever you teasingly brushed your fingers against his calloused hands.

ECHO:

Now, Echo was happy his squad assigned to a new general. Ever since Skako Minor, he felt like the Republic had done little to nothing to try make him feel normal again. However, he was insecure about his general seeing him and rejecting him in some way.

Nonetheless, he immediately feel for you when he saw your bright smile, as your eyes came in contact with his.

Unlike Hunter, who took a long time to realise he had fallen for someone, Echo had the love-at-first-sight type of problem and he swore he'd keep it to himself. It was unprofessional and you were his general.

He found it endearing to see how scared you were of basically everything: bugs, surprise hugs, animals... However, that did not stop him from blushing every time you jumped in surprise and held his shoulders for support.

He's definitely protective over you, but he knows you can handle things. He trusts you completely and knows you won't get in trouble. He's not possessive nor jealous in any way (he's too sweet to be possessive).

Yet, he still feels a bit jealous when you prefer talking to the regs and sometimes will try to make a friendly conversation so as to keep you with him.

Again, Echo knows what he's doing. He knows he shouldn't confess to a person that's a higher rank than him.

But, his face turns red when your hands rest on his waist for a few seconds.

WRECKER:

Let's all be honest, Wrecker does not care who you are, as long as you like hugs. Because Wrecker gives lots of those.

When he first saw you arm wrestling a reg and you won, this man was ready to spar with you for the rest of his life. You were also very nice and polite.

I reckon Wrecker laughs when you get scared. Though, he does become serious and protective when there's something truly menacing happening.

He will not be bothered to beat up any reg if they're disrespectful or just mean. You're one of his only friends besides his brothers, and he feels the need to protect you.

He found out he was probably in love with you because 1) He asked Tech, and 2) He felt something pleasant in his stomach whenever you laughed.

Wrecker won't hesitate to show his love for you: whether it's by hugging, congratulate you for anything you do, let you sleep with his tooka doll...This man is not ashamed of showing how much he loves you.

He knows he shouldn't date someone in the middle of the war, but he can't help but hug you from behind and wishing you good luck whenever you go on a mission that's not with them.

TECH:

At first, Tech did not care who you were. To him, you were just another Jedi general. He hadn't heard from you, so he thought you'd want Clone Force 99 for their strength and not their personality.

Tech didn't pay much attention to you at first. But, one day, he started rambling about hyperdrives and noticed you listening. You were paying full attention and he couldn't help but blush a little.

This smart clone will be a tad surprised at how much of a scaredy cat you are. Maybe, you'll receive a comment or two from Tech, though they are harmless.

This is one of the reasons why Tech became overprotective. He started placing you behind him whenever something -or someone dangerous would happen to be there.

And, around the regs, Tech will get into a verbal fight whether they're mean or not. He registers the feeling he feels as jealous, and he will try anything to get rid of it.

That's when he realises that jealousy is laced with having feelings for someone. And he figured it was you since he felt jealousy when you were with other regs.

Tech knows he's risking his and your position if anything happened between your two, so he'll stick to telling you how beautiful you are through flowers.

CROSSHAIR:

Like Tech, Crosshair doesn't care either about who you are. He figures you didn't want to be a general for Clone Force 99 and you'd probably run away out of fear when you saw them.

At the sight of you, he couldn't deny you were beautiful. And he was genuinely surprised at you kindness, making him slightly fond of you the more time you two spent together.

Time passed, and he hated you for making him feel weird stuff on his stomach, yet he admired your sweetness towards anyone you met. This made you naive, but also endearing.

Cross will mock you for being a scaredy cat, but in reality, he will become more protective of you. Whenever a reg approached you, he was right behind you. He will listen what you are talking about, and, if things went bad, he will immediately come out of the shadows to protect you.

When he realises he's fallen for you, he tries to deny it and refuse to accept him. But the way you smile, the way you fight, and the way you are in general will keep him grounded.

There's a point where he won't deny it, and give subtle touches or a gentle nudge whenever he's around you.

Crosshair does not give a damn about the rules and the order, but he knows you'd risk everything, so he keeps his hands to himself most of the time (besides when he's doing the things from the prior paragraph).

However, the annoying butterflies will appear again when you stand opposite him whenever he's having a panic attack and you help him.

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I hope you like it, anon :p

[peaches4everandtmw]

Teehee Hi! Can I request(if they're open..I didn't see anything indicating not) Wanderer and whoever else u wanna write for with a significant other who is normally sweet and helpful suddenly becoming harsh and cold to someone they don't like 🥺

If not that's completely okay!!! Have a nice day 💖

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ ִ ⠀ sickeningly sweet

⠀ ꒰੭ Gender neutral reader , characters included : Wanderer & Furina

꒰੭ c/w's: hints at Furina's past , petnames

꒰੭ a/n: Hi anon ^^ the request status is in my bio and on my pinned post , anyway thank you for requesting !

୨ৎ Wanderer had never met such a kind person such as yourself. You were always so sweet and helpful to everyone , he thought of you as an angel in disguise. Wanderer hasn't caught you being the slightest bit cruel to anyone , ever. Because in his eyes , you could do no wrong. And he loves you very much for it ...

If only you could see the shocked expression on his face when your mood and smile immediately dropped when someone you weren't too fond of approached you. Wanderer was spooked; it was like you had been possessed , theres no way you would act like this ! When they finally left you alone , you automatically switched back to your usual self. This left a very confused and suprised Wanderer following behind you.

"are you ... feeling alright?" he asked you hesitantly , and you responded with a small nod. "Of course I am , why wouldn't I be?" Wanderer stared at you for a while before he cleared his throat , "when you were talking to... Uh, that person. You got all stiff." you laughed nervously at his words, "you noticed ?...well I'm not exactly their biggest fan."

୨ৎ Furina herself has had to put up many acts , but she had not realised you weren't all lovely. She hadn't yet seen your cold gaze; the thought terrified her. You were a breath of fresh air , just a lovely person who enjoyed helping others with nothing to hide ! Which Furina thought until you both ran into someone you particularly don't like.

She only stood there awkwardly as she watched the scene unfold: it was a catastrophe. Seeing your hardened glare and the annoyed tone in your voice is certainly not something she wants to experience again. Furina only became more flabbergasted when you turned to smile at her, "come on , let's go home." and she trailed behind you like a lost child , "c-coming , my love."

please do not copy , translate or repost. Also , i can't believe I used the word "flabbergasted"

[vxperorchist]

What's yours is mine! (Cyno, Wriothesly, and Tartaglia x Fem! Reader)

Stealing clothes with Cyno, Wriothesly, and Tartaglia!

Genere: Fluff

Warnings: None!

This is my first time writing for Wriothesly and I don't find him attractive at all but the way he talks is kinda hot??

Cyno

Cyno doesn't have many clothes to steal to begin with. Majority of the clothes he owns are for work, and even then they are thick with protection or just articles to work with the protection.

He owns a little bit of casual wear but doesn't utilize it much as he is constantly on duty. The only time you'll really ever see him change out of his work clothes is when the two of you are getting ready to sleep, and he'll change over to more comfortable pants. (Shirts are overrated in his mind, but who are we to judge?) His lack of shirts is certainly not a complaint in your household.

He thought it was very amusing to see you in his clothes. You'd wear his sweatpants to sleep as you cuddled up next to him, and he couldn't help but smile. He'd make stupid remarks every time you wore them like; "Nice pants, I wonder where they came from." or "Where'd you get those pants?"

He thought it was funny, but he already lacked comfortable clothes, so he'd struggle at night to find clothes he could wear to sleep as you had took most of them.

He'd eventually start taking them back, and whenever he got new clothes he'd keep you in mind too. He loved seeing you do things around the house with his clothes on, whether it was a loose shirt or sweatpants you had found, he loved coming back to you to wrap his arms around the familiar frame that was now drowning in his clothes.

He'd became very fond of coming back home to you in his clothes, and he'd frown internally whenever you were back in your own clothes. Your own clothes with their specific fit looked great, but he couldn't help but love how his clothes didn't fit you right.

He loved the sight of you in his own clothes, it was one of many ways he could reassure himself that you were his. Maybe it was his twinge of possessiveness that had a part of him in a chokehold, but he couldn't get enough of it after a while.

Wriothesly

Casual wear king. He is known for being cooped up in his office for hours on end, and in the early morning hours or late at night, he is wearing something more comfortable.

He offers up his clothes to you whenever you are down in the fortress. You visit him every now and then, and unintentionally end up spending the night most of the times. Without hesitation, every time he is throwing his own clothes at you to sleep in or wear around.

He gets a kick out of it when you wear his clothes around the fortress as it is very obvious, they are his. He enjoys his subordinates asking about you and your outfit, which just happens to be his.

Who is anyone to judge down there? They're all criminals anyways.

When you return to the surface eventually, he'll be occupied looking for his clothes, which are now in your possession. He'll smile to himself knowing that his clothes are in your hands but won't hesitate to pay you a visit just to get them back. (Also get you back for taking his clothes)

Every now and then you would buy new clothes for him and send them down to the fortress, only for them to be taken back the next time you visit him. He won't stop you if you leave the fortress with his shirt on, even though you look ridiculous with the shirt that doesn't fit you very well. (He thought it was hot.)

Tartaglia

He's another one who is pretty constantly on duty and only changes over in the comfort of his house. Furthermore, when he is in his own house, he is all for sweatpants and some sort of large shirt.

He LOVES seeing you in his stuff. He will never miss an opportunity to give you a sweatshirt or shirt of his. He'll make sure it smells like him too, just so he knows the thought of him will linger with you.

He's also big on matching or similar outfits when he can. Whether it's just matching sleepwear or wearing similar outfits out in public, he adores it. Knowing he has some sort of physical correlation with you makes him smile.

I can very much see him being the type of person to own those red and black plaid pajama pants, and he's the type to get them for you as well.

It's a family tradition of his for his family to own matching pajamas around the holidays, and you are no exception in that tradition. There is a group photo with his family, (Including you) hung up in his family home with all of you in matching outfits.

When he has to leave for work, whether it be for a week, or even a long day, he'll leave you with some sort of clothing article of his, probably with an attached note either telling you he loves you, or to remind you he wants his clothes back at the end of the day.

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 21. Kent (Aphrodisiac)

Pairing: Kent / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 4,568 Warnings: cheating, aphrodisiac, creampie, size difference, petname (kid) Prompt(s): 13 — aphrodisiac Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: kent oh man oh man my beloved <3 im so happy i got to write for him MWAH tysm for giving me this opportunity! it's always fun getting to explore his dirty mind! i was a bit excessive with this one, but i still home u enjoy it!

With the amount of panic lacing your words and the hefty amount of anxiety present in even just your fingertips as you take to tugging his jacket towards, well... Wherever you're planning on taking him, he's got no choice but to follow along, does he? Anyone, under these tense circumstances, would feel the urge to help you; a damsel in distress quite literally begging for his attention. Or at least they should, right? Even if he doesn't know you the best, he still hates to hear the whiny tension in your voice when you mumble for him to hurry up! Every huff and sigh you let out while walking with him tugs on his heart strings about as much as you do his jacket, implores him to do his utmost in helping you just to soothe those whimpers. It's what anyone would do, he thinks. And seeing as he's at least trying to reintegrate himself into the valley lifestyle, he figures there's no harm in doing as you ask and simply following along for now.

This was his first mistake.

He soon comes to learn that you intend on taking him to your farmhouse, hidden away and secluded from the rest of the town— that's when alarm bells should have been ringing in his dense head. But as the reliable man he tries to be, he followed regardless. Put it down to you needing attention towards something sensitive, right? That's why he's all the way out here, with you, alone. Your issue must be serious enough to require privacy, seeking a more mature adult than yourself to help remedy whatever situation you've unfortunately found yourself in. And no matter how often he's asked you to explain yourself on the way over to the farm, those comparatively tiny hands so eagerly yanking him in one direction only, sheer urgency alone pulling him closer towards you until you rush him inside of your home like a caught child; he's still got no idea what it is exactly that you're struggling with.

The next red flag is when you usher him into your bedroom the moment your front door is shut tight. Don't get him wrong, the decor is nice and all, but he's got no idea what could require his tending to in here. His tone questioning just as much as his expression is suspicious when you situate yourself before him panting— that's why you shouldn't have rushed home. Raising his eyebrows at you with: "I'm not so sure we have to be in here to discuss things, but..." despite your adamant encouragement.

"Please, Kent. Just trust me."

And it's not that he's complaining too seriously, he just doesn't understand. Doesn't get why your cheeks are so flushed as you prompt him into sitting on your bed, nor why you seem to bite down on your bottom lip when brushing your fingers against his shoulders. He can't comprehend why his hands itch similarly to yours the longer you seem to hover around him, pacing back and forth with wobbly legs like you can barely stand by yourself any more. For a moment, he finds himself wanting to carry you elsewhere, just so that you can be in his arms. But, he shouldn't, right? That's— That's just a fleeting thought, surely. It's only because you're standing right in front of him, rather than his wife. It's only natural for him to seek to help others, right?

Still, he needs to distract himself from his own thoughts, which is why he takes a strong grip of your wrist; an attempt to get you to stand still for a fucking minute so that you can simply explain yourself, but he quickly retracts his hand the moment he feels how heated your skin is. All prickly and flushed, his mind reeling with the thought that you suit the colour well. A pretty dusting of pink, a full body blush from head to toe. He has to physically shake his head to remove the intrusive thoughts.

"What, yer sick or somethin'?" he recoils, confusion clear to not only hear, but also to see on his face, he's certain. Brows laced before you as you grow closer to him, even as he sits he's still taller than you, isn't he? Exuding patience as he simply waits for your answer, staring you down with the kind of resolve one holds as a parent for a child.

But you neglect to answer him in a timely fashion, instead just chewing on your bottom lip as you shift closer; dangerously so, placing your pretty body between his wide open thighs and— shit, does he really think you're so pretty? How come he's never noticed just how pretty you are before... Pouting sweetly before him like you've done something wrong, his feet twitching with something equally as impatient as your demeanour as a faint sweet smell hits his senses. He's waited long enough for an answer, don't you think?

Again, he pushes on and tries to get you to explain yourself. Approaching you with tenderness that doesn't fit him, an awkward fumbling of words that he can't quite seem to remember given his time away from pretty ladies such as yourself. "C'mon, I can't help ya if ya don't—"

"It's hot, Kent." You sigh, and for a few seconds he's too dumb to speak. Mind blank to your explanation, surely that's not all you have to say.

And besides, he doesn't think that it's hot enough today for it to pose any kind of problem, especially not one that required him to be perched precariously on the edge of your bed like this. So he continues on, rolling his eyes at the ambiguous nature of your explanations.

"Cool down then?" Duh, isn't that obvious? "Don't think y'need my help with that, jus' run a bath or somethin'—"

You cut him off again, and he has half a mind to shut you up himself. Through means unfavourable to his wife, regret immediately surfacing to his cloudy mind. Annoyance at both himself and you existing in his tightly closed fists as you attempt to elaborate a bit further; can you pick up on how he feels right now? How the heat radiating off of you is sticking to his skin too, leaving him feeling all flustered alongside you? He feels a sudden urge to escape resting in his toes, you better not be contagious or— "No, like... Inside. In my body, it feels hot." You prattle on, and his nose scrunches in dissatisfaction.

"A fever?" He asks, taking the situation a bit more seriously now that you're finally divulging important details. He reaches a hand out to place the back against your forehead and a hiss crawls up his throat before swiftly retrieving his burned skin. You are feeling pretty warm. "What can I do t'help?" He offers, but the answer is obvious. Fluids, rest, and pain killers. He's sure you should have them in your house somewhere... But you shouldn't need him to get them for you. After all, you did walk him to your front door, did you not?

"It's— It's a bit more complicated than, ah, than that, I think—"

Loathe it thought he may, the small sigh you let escape when shivering between his legs is nice. Real fuckin' nice. Too fuckin' nice. A refreshing sound to bring his attention off of your doe eyes and instead down to your pretty lips. Of which look oh so kissable right now, glossy with spit, quivering ever so sweetly for him as if attempting to coax him closer.

Ah, he gets it now, you fucking vixen. He should take the opportunity to stand up right now. Walk away from your clearly oblivious body and back home to his wife and kids. Where he should have been by now, on his way home from a morning stroll in Cindersap Forest before you had intercepted him with worry. Even then you were a blushing, shivering mess. Really, that was his first signal, wasn't it? The pull he felt towards helping you, sweet talking him back to your farmhouse without even needing to say anything at all. Like you've got him under an insidious spell; his own cheeks feel a little warmer just by being close to you.

And that fucking scent, like a sweet perfume. He wants to ask what it is that you're wearing, only so that he can buy some for his wife, too. How intoxicating it is to him, luring him into leaning more forward when you continue to shudder into the cool air, as if he was intent on shielding you or something.

"Wanna start from the beginning, then?" He huffs, balling his fists into the sheets under him for any semblance of control, unease resting in his chest at the way he feels as though he lacks it when with you, apparently. A means to hold himself back from doing something he really shouldn't, cursing his inner self when he thinks about how attractive you are when seeking his help. To be relied upon in a situation like this is one of the better feelings this world has to offer, though he really should be withholding it from anyone but his wife. It's difficult to do so, though, when you're practically throwing yourself at him like this. He has always understood you to be easy on the eyes, but not once has he looked upon you like this, like a man starved as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. Frustration? For fucking sure, willing his pants to remain loose under you when you make a similar sweet sound again, a little gasp for air before answering him.

You must know what you're doing to him, right? And, like, c'mon, he's only a man after all. You couldn't blame him for the way he struggles to hold himself back, would you? Mind growing dizzier by the second, he's never felt this way before— not even with his wife for fucks sake. And somehow, instinctively, he knows that it's your own fucking fault. A rise of bile bubbling to dirty his tongue with a low hum, a judgemental sound that seems only to make your situation worse if the rub of your thighs together is anything to go by. Thought he'd miss that?

"I was, um... Walking through the forest, and..." Right, right. He understood that part. But his jaw his tight, taut with how much he has to restrain himself when your scent is overwhelming his senses. So he refrains from speaking his mind in favour of letting you dig your own metaphorical grave, a pretty picture between his wide thighs. He could probably look at you like this forever; keeping a mental note for safe keeping, or for later? He can't keep up with how fuzzy he feels, all warm and nice... It's only your voice that pulls him out of his leering, and even then he can't help but to lean into it. Like a siren song.

You shudder when he nods for you to continue, and he hates how good it feels to hold such power over you. How soft and small you look just standing there, head hung low in assumed shame, legs trembling under his watchful gaze. Are you scared, little bunny? Worried the big bad wolf is gonna do something bad to you?

Perhaps you should be, because he's a little afraid himself of what his claws can do, too. Sitting staring at you with an urge to bear his fangs, some primal part of him just begging to sink something into you. Claws, teeth, cock?

It's disgusting, really, how strongly he feels right now. The way his tummy burns at the sight of you looking so desperate, needy little thing tripping over your words as you attempt to explain your degenerate behaviour to him. Pheromones wrapping around him so sweetly that he's got no choice but to get drunk off of you. Y'know, you look you cute when you're struggling like that. Trying to get his attention by rolling over to show your tummy? Baby, with the way you've got him feeling already, you needn't have to try at all. He's already enraptured, hanging on to your every word with a twitch in his pants. Gross, right? Deplorable, even, considering he's a married man with two kids.

"Um... So, I saw this, ah— This pretty flower that I've never seen before when, when I was out and I— I sniffed it,"

Fucking idiot, a condescending tut escaping him at your lack of survival skills. Still, he's got no idea what the fuck you're truly talking about, but to unknowingly do something so stupid without considering the fact that there could be adverse effects to what you've just done— some flowers are poisonous, y'know?

But still he allows you room to continue. Folds his arms in front of him like a disapproving father would, but listens nonetheless. Doing his best to ignore the ache in his core when you flutter your lashes at him so cutely, still sighing and huffing away to yourself with assumed heat. "It— I mean it smelled good, y'know? Maybe... A little too sweet? But— That doesn't matter, what matters is— fuck, sorry. Um, point being that about five minutes later I started feeling... Funny."

"Funny how?" He asks sternly. Funny like me? Like how he's feeling sick to his stomach, a weird flutter in his chest at the way you gaze at him through half lids.

"Like... Like hot! Like I said, it feels hot, right... Um, sorry, this is embarrassing but... Here."

Pointing at your tummy, or perhaps a little lower... Right at your womb? You're right, that is embarrassing for you, and it should also be mortifying for him; he should feel horrified to be staring at where your womb lies with anything but disgusting. Adoration coating his gaze as he tilts his head to the side in curiosity, lifting his hand to meet your height as he rubs a thumb along the spot, under your clothes that you've so helpfully lifted in order to showcase the location of your issue.

But that was an immediate fucking mistake wasn't it? Proven when you openly moan as soon as his thumb touches your overheated skin, instinct convincing him to press into your womb harder, to rub the skin across your own in an effort to leave his mark. There's no use in hiding his hard on now, fuck, he's not got a hope in Hell of even attempting to conceal how hard his cock throbs for your sweet whimpers, a brief empty pause shared between what should be ashamed parties, but instead; greed. A palpable lust for more, felt in how your tummy jerks against his touch, hips bucked towards him just a miniscule amount, but still he catches it. And how his hands immediately grip too tightly to your hips, magnetic to your heated skin, a need to soothe you buried deep in his chest. Poor little thing, you're just so small compared to him, aren't you? So easy to lift, hauled up over his shoulder so that he can groan loudly at the innocent squeaks you let out. If only you hadn't went and fucked up today, roping him into your little mishap by way of pouting and prancing that pretty body around in front of him— fuck, he shouldn't be doing this. Throwing you down on your bed, unceremoniously flipping you onto your stomach so that you can't see just how much you affect him, how happy he is to be graced by the sight of your cute ass immediately wiggling in the air for him for you're in position. Just for him, yeah? All of this, those tiny fists bunched into your sheets, the harsh gulps of air as his hands reattach to your hips, effectively knocking the wind outta ya without so much as being inside. Isn't that just so fucking cute? Such a pretty girl, begging for him like that. It's been a long time since he's been in this kind of situation, and if he's honest, he never thought he'd be standing behind someone like this ever again. Frozen, cock just aching in his pants as it attempts to tent your way, jerking against the rough fabric of his jeans with a sense of urgency he's not use to; not even since coming back home to his wife. Things just haven't been the same, have they?

Did you notice, too? Is that why you sought out his comfort rather than anyone else's? Or is he just some passable cheap fuck, a first come first served affair into your wanting hole. He's not sure which is worse, squeezing his eyes shut to blink at you a few times; is this real? Are you really face down, ass up on your bed right now? Are you really shaking your ass from side to side, an open invitation to take exactly what he so desperately needs from you, something in the pit of his stomach urging him to take you up on that offer, an unforeseen force puppeting his greedy hand to his leaking cock, thumbing at it through the jeans for just a few seconds before he hurriedly, frantically, tugs them down with his underwear. Letting his cock spring free with a hefty slap! against his tummy, drooling some more precum for you when you clearly moan at the sound.

And he shouldn't. Fuck, he really shouldn't. Perverted paw already jerking his cock up and down to the sole sight of your ass, driven to experimentally flip your skirt up only to suck in air at the sight of your soaked panties. The fist on his cock grows tighter yet, already pumping at himself faster as he swallows thickly; a subconscious want to eat you out dry? Perhaps, but he blames it on that fucking stink you have attached to you and how it only grows in strength as he fucks his fist to your backside. Makes his head all empty, trying his best to hold on to the last remaining scraps of self control he has, fighting with himself to tuck his cock back into his jeans and to pretend he never even saw you today.

But fuck it feels so good to stroke himself to the sight of you. Watching the stain on your panties grow larger the longer he makes you wait, practically bending over himself from how sensitive his drooling tip is. Just lightly brushing against it with his tight fist is enough to leave him panting in satisfaction; he's never been so fucking hard before in his life.

All thanks to you. Whining, pathetic, ass up in the air, sticky panty wearing, you.

It's infuriating how much he loves the sight of you submitting like so, fucking his fist a few times before dumbly inching closer. Enough to let you feel the weight of his cock prodding at your clothed hole, forced into simulating the act of sex itself the second he rubs against your sheer panties with greedy humps. God, he's just so fucking desperate for it all of a sudden. Needs to wet his cock as soon as possible, an indescribable yearning for you tucked away behind his heart, snaking its way down to his tummy and finally resting in his balls as he stupidly pulls your panties to the side.

And then it's immediately over for him, isn't it? Not a single word shared and he's already pushing his drooling cock into your hot cunt. The sheer tightness that greets him as you involuntarily clench around his length is irritating in how fucking good it feels; his voice coming out strained and upset with "Are y'being fuckin' serious? Fuck, kid. So fuckin' tight for me, y'need it that bad?"

It's not really a question. Not when he can tell how genuine you are in your need to be dicked down, whining and mumbling into your sheets, a cute babble off appreciation for how well his fat cock stretches you out. And he's not even sure if he can fit it all the way in, offering you little fucks to help coat his whole cock in your slick to hopefully make the glide a bit easier. He might be out of his fucking mind right now, but he still has the decency to make things easier on you. But the fire in his tummy begs him to continue. The nails digging into your ass plead for more. The way you whine a high pitched please! motivates him to push all the way in anyway, forcing you to take his full length whether you're comfortable with it or not.

And then he just can't seem to stop. Enticed into fucking you too fast and too hard by the spell you have him under, the sickeningly sweet scent emanating from you whispering sweet nothings in his ear, the way your gushy cunt just seems to suck him in deeper, begging for his cock to fuck harder with every heavy stroke he offers it. Like he's not fully there, dumb to his surroundings besides the loud slap of wet skin on skin ringing in his ears, and the too good pressure on the tip of his cock, every single pulse of your cunt squirming around his girth prompting a rough moan to crawl up his tight throat. Until he starts to clench his teeth in focus, resolved to only let out rushed exhales so that he can instead focus on your pretty whines. The squeak of your bed from under his unfair thrusts, lifting to his tip toes and pressing a hand on your upper back for stability; the deeper angle he's able to fuck your tiny cunt with leaves even him breathless from how downright fucking good it feels. So fucking addictive, being inside of you. His whole body thrown behind each thrust to leave you gasping, struggling to keep up with his selfish thrusts as he seeks only to help you out— but that's not exactly true, is it?

No, he wants to feel good too. He's come this far in the affair, neglecting his lonely wife at home who's probably waiting patiently for his return, all while he's balls deep in some other young cunt that just seemed to offer itself up to him. Falling on top of you like a dog, still yet humping despite the pang of guilt in his heaving chest. It's just— "God you feel so fuckin' good, tight fuckin' cunt, yeah? Needed t'be properly fucked, s'at all?"

He doesn't need you to reply, happy enough just to hear you struggling to respond, scrambling your hands on the bed as if you were trying to escape his greedy thrusts; but he's just so much bigger than you, isn't he? So much stronger, keeping you on the end of his throbbing cock simply because he wants to feel good too. Convinced that if he fucks you all better, then the spell will be broken. It has to be, right? His hand instinctively coming down between your legs to rub rough circles against your clit, a soft tut falling from his lips when you moan a repeat of his name so prettily that he can't help but to stutter his hips against you. Opening his mouth to say something, anything to take the focus off of how well your little cunt squeezes his fat cock, distract him from just how much he loves being buried balls deep in your tight hole, how he doesn't want tonight to end because he can't bare the thought of going back to his wife; not in the least because it feels better to be fucking into you rather than her. He wants to make you feel better, that's all, right? He's just— just helping a friend out. Repeatedly fucking his greedy cock into you just to help you out. Fuck, he wants to make you cry, too. So desperately needs to see fat tears rolling down your rosy cheeks as he pounds you into the sheets below, pressing his nose to your neck to inhale some more of the lewd scent you seem to be exuding.

It's easier to circle your clit when his brain is switched off. Simply moving with the motions as his lips press eagerly against your neck, opening his mouth just a little to let you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive spot every time his hips fuck you forward.

And he knows that you're close when one of your hands manoeuvres under your body to grab at his wrist. Are you begging for him to stop now? A laugh escapes him, all broken and barely there from the amount of moans that follow it. You're getting so tight around him, as if pleading for him to not leave. So cute, how honest your body is for him. A few more circles of your clit and you're falling apart on his cock already, you must be just as sensitive as he is, your insides squelching and squeezing all along his length as he stands upright again; not allowing you a single second for even a breather as he selfishly fucks you through your orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sound of your high pitched and croaky sobs, whining all pretty for him when he pulls your ass back to meet his every greedy thrust.

So frantic with his fucks, treating you more like a toy than anything else as you cream his cock, sinking into the too good feeling over and over again until he inevitably dumps a load into your hole as reward. Fucking you so full of it that it seeps out with his continued milking thrusts, repeatedly pressing on your lower back with one hand to keep your cunt sucking his cock empty while his other hand cards through his hair, only just now realising how sticky with sweat he is.

It makes sense, given the heat you've shared with him. His breathing ragged above you, eyes squeezing shut as he fucks into your brimming with cum cunt— the sticky substance that drips from your used hole and onto his emptied balls would ordinarily lead him to sober up from the experience; baby needs some aftercare?

But rather than offering him clarity, the wetness that still yet drips down your thighs only turns him on more, warming his cock in your tight, cum stained cunt, until he starts to soften.

Only, he doesn't. Cock still pulsing inside of you despite fucking you full, your cunt still attempting to nurse him into movement again. He merely sighs in response, bracing himself before pulling out anyway, hips humping the air immediately upon hearing your whines at the loss of contact.

"S'okay. Y'need more, dont'cha?" He coos down at you affectionately, gently helping you to lay down on your back on the bed for a round two.

And, seeing as he's already claimed your insides, he figures it shouldn't be too much of an issue to show you his face this time round. In spite of the guilt gnawing at his heart; you feel too good to give up. "Jus' keep this a secret, and y'can have as much of me as y'like, okay?"

[middlingmay]

I've seen a few Hockey AUs around here.

And for someone who's never seen a game of hockey in their puff, I do love a good Hockey AU.

So whilst I'm 100% never going to write one, how about this? :

Imagine John is one of the biggest Hockey stars in the US. Mahoosive. And he's known for being the sweetest guy with no ego about it, too.

He constantly talks up his team mates and is the biggest team player. He's openly critical of the coaching team when he thinks it's called for. He tries the direct approach first, but when they won't listen, the next time someone shoves a camera in his face, something's going to go down. This is usually when there's been an avoidable injury.

He pops up at local kids club games whenever he has downtime, wherever he is, and spends loads of time with them and is really encouraging.

And Gale, being woefully ignorant about the land of sport has absolutely no idea who he is.

Maybe he takes Marge's kid to practice sometimes, and he sees John there and just thinks he's a friend of the coach, given how delighted the coach is to see him (and maybe how the coach hangs off him, too).

Gale lets himself look. It's been a while and John is cute. All bright, easy smiles and patience with the kids, even as they try scaling his legs and back like a jungle gym (but only when their skates are off).

And John notices Gale and keeps catching him looking and they both keep looking away and looking back and blushing like children. Idiots, I stg.

And Marge's kid - let's call her Andy - chatters a mile about about how great John is and Gale figures it's not an uncommon occurrence for the coach's friend to come around if Andy knows him that well, but he makes a note to ask Marge about it. And maybe offer to take Andy to more practices. Give Marge and Rosie some time to themselves after work (because fuck it, Marge is married to Rosie in this).

On their way back from practice, Gale sees a hoard of news vans going the opposite way and just thinks, "Huh. Weird."

So he asks Marge if she knows about John - she does, of course. Andy does not shut up about him - and she clocks right away that Gale has no clue who he's been flirting kindergarten-style with and elbows Rosie in the ribs before he can blab. Oh ho, she's going to enjoy this.

John isn't at the next practice, or the one after, and Gale is disappointed, but he can't focus on that for long because his car won't start to take Andy home.

Who arrives on the scene? John Egan.

He offers them a ride and Andy does not give Gale a chance to say no.

Gale is hopelessly, awfully flustered in the front seat. John talks almost as much as Andy and the two chatter and bicker back and forth, because yes John does argue like a 12 year old.

But, he also gesticulates, and his hands get everywhere and if they brush up against Gale one more time, surely his heart can only jolt like that so many times before it's not good for him??

And cute or not, Gale finds it difficult to talk to strangers. Maybe John notices, and asks Gale yes or no questions, offers him little jokes and pretty much doesn't demand any input from Gale which is...New.

He finds himself laughing and offering little bits of conversation unprompted which have John beaming.

John walks them to Marge's door (he thinks it's also Gale's because Andy has blonde hair, too). And when Marge opens to door and Andy says, "Mom, look who it is!" John's face falls - until Rosie appears and Andy calls him Dad.

Marge, seeing an opportunity for mischief, invites John in for dinner as a thank you whilst Rosie calls Ken to get Gale's car. She drops hints about John's work which sail right over Gale's head:

"All that travelling must be hard. And surrounded by all those screaming people?"

"Oh you're in just about every paper and news report on tv."

So Gale, obviously, comes to the conclusion that John is a journalist.

It takes a very, very, very long time for him to find out the truth. Far longer than it should. They've been dating for a while, but with John's travelling and Gale's studies and his work, it just doesn't come up much. When they're together, work isn't at the forefront of their minds. So Gale doesn't quite cotton on to the fact that the sudden uptick in photographers he sees about town are following him and John. And he doesn't really follow the news, so yeah.

I may post more thoughts about this, but I just love Sports AUs in general. I will read every fic any of you write, God help me

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙈𝙚—ex bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Back with one of my favorite tropes! I high key feel bad for being away for so long and for being too shy to actually interact with anyone so I'll try to make up for it as much as I can.

Will you be the bad guy in this one? Not sure, that's for you to decide. I hope all of you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa ;*

warning/s: not proofread, angst, cursing, violence (mdni!), toxic, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note: I tried fixing some parts because I wrote this while I was drunk and I realized that some parts sucked. I'm sorry, dears!

The sound of cars whizzing past, horns beeping, and the endless conversations of people chatting on the street filled the night. The wind blew harshly, the cold biting at your flushed cheeks. Stars glimmering as bright as your narrowed eyes as you ran, footsteps heavy on the concrete.

Bright lights lit up the city, commercials everywhere of something stupid. Probably the next new hyped up skincare product that was overpriced and didn't work or the next new corny romance film they're trying to sell out. Celebrities' faces plastered on every building, some pretty, some borderline lewd, some dramatic.

God, you hated these fucking displays, always so obnoxious and overly marketed...

Especially her fucking face.

Mizu's stupid fucking face plastered all around the buildings, informing you of her concert in your home city as a way of ending her first oh-so-grand world tour. The new hit guitarist made by Abijah Fowler, the manager of the biggest fucking band in the world. A legend. Anyone he handled turns into a star by the first debut.

Oh, fuck you.

These displays were truly obnoxious, even more so with her stupid fucking face, her stupid hands holding her same old guitar, and her gorgeously blue eyes on display for every passerby to see. For you to see every time you went to work, went to get the groceries, went to...whatever.

Blue eyes reminding you of the times when you were her manager. Of when both of you were young and stupid, when playing in a band was just something you did to unwind and have something to do aside from rot. Reminding you of your promise to make her a star, that talent recognizes talent.

And indeed, she was talent.

She was the greatest fucking talent the world ever saw. Her hands played the guitar as if it was natural to her. As if whatever deity that created her wanted mankind to know what music actually sounded like. Like her hands were made for this. Like she was made for this.

Every time she went on stage, countless would scream for her, cheer for her, throw what ever expensive lingerie they had for her. It took months, maybe even a year, to be able to schedule an interview with her. Her fans would sell their soul for a chance to breathe the same air as her, yet alone be in the same room with her.

Which ever city she went, concert or no concert, paparazzi was waiting for her. Each stage she rocked, she made the floors shake with how hyped her audience got. Everyone who attended had post-concert syndrome. They were star struck. She exuded confidence. She was an icon. Not even the lead singer but she was the front man.

An eye catcher.

Talent personified.

A star.

Your fucking star.

And you hated this bitch with every fiber of your body, with every cell that passed and will pass through your veins, with every nerve, with everything you had. You made her a star, gave her to the best fucking manager known to man. For fuck's sake she even finished a world tour. And this is how she repays you?

Your hands pushed the crowds of people away, legs burning as you tried to run into the backstage. The sounds of people yelling at you, glaring at your figure as you cut through lines echoing across the waiting area.

Was this illegal? Probably.

Who cares?

You were getting this bitch even if you had to be dragged out by every armed force known to man.

Just as you were about to reach the doors, security immediately held you back. Bodyguards grabbing you as you thrashed around, trying to kick them off while pulling your arms away from them. "Let me go! Let me fucking see this bitch!" you screamed at them, nails digging into their skin as they held you back.

"Mizu you fucking bitch! I know you're there! Explain yourself!" you yelled, hissing in pain as security tried to drag you out, yelling at you to leave. Your hair out of the bun you put it in, seams at the corners of your shirt ripping slightly, legs scratched. Their hands leaving red marks on your skin, and yet you continued to try and fight them off, yelling obscenities as they held you down. "Fuck! Get off of me! You motherfucker! You ungrateful bitch!"

With a twist of your arm and an unexpected bite at their hands, you finally broke free from their grasps, only to be tackled to the ground as soon as you tried to sprint towards the door. The impact of your head on the ground making you extremely light-headed. Your vision growing blurry as the warm red liquid started dripping from your nose onto the concrete. You could feel them lifting your body; but just as you were about to drag your body out, you heard a voice. The same fucking voice you were searching for.

"Unhand her. Don't worry she's with me."

Upon her words, the guards looked at each other and security hesitantly let go of you, going back to their stations. With a groan, you sat up straight, blowing the blood out of your nostril before wiping the leftover crimson with the back of your hand as she approached you with an unreadable expression.

Just as you looked up, your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes met. Blue orbs meeting with yours. Those gorgeous blue eyes. Drowning you.

Slowly, you stood up, trying your best to balance yourself. Her eyebrows knitting at how beaten up you looked. But just as she was about to open her mouth...

SLAP

...her cheek was met with a harsh stinging pain, knocking her back slightly. Her chest rose up and down as she panted, trying to register what had just happened, hand slowly clutching her cheek.

Sharp blue eyes glared at you as soon as she composed herself. She watched as you shook the pain from your hand, glaring at her with such loathing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, grabbing you by the collar.

I asked you a question, I wanna know why Why'd you have to make a record 'bout me?

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" you yelled at her, eyes narrowing further as you continued to glare at her, no longer caring if her hold on your collar was choking you. "Answer me, Mizu. Why'd you have to make a fucking song about me, you stupid jackass?"

Her eyes scanned your face, looking over every detail as her grip on your collar tightened. Even with a scratched up face and a bloody nose, you were still so beautiful to her. The most beautiful woman she has ever met.

"That's what you're here for? Hah..fuck...I'm with my own band. Stay out of my business," she said in low voice, pulling you closer, jaw clenching as if holding back some sort of unexplainable anger towards you as well. An exasperated yet angered expression washed over your face at her words.

"Stay out of your business?" you repeated before letting out an angry sarcastic laugh. "How can I when you fucking used my picture? Our picture? On a fucking diss album, for fuck's sake! Are you stupid?!" you yelled, hand gripping her hand around your collar tightly until your knuckles turned white, until your nails were digging into her skin.

That's right.

A whole fucking record about you. A whole motherfucking album dedicated to you. This is how this jackass repays you.

The track list started with innocent cute little love songs about how much she admired you, how much she fucking tried for you, how she constantly played her heart out just for you to realize how in love she was with you.

Then, it went on to heavier songs, talking about how you sold her. How you were a fucking traitor who threw her into the pit, making her feel as if you would be there for her no matter where the band's musical journey took off to only to leave her.

And you wouldn't have minded if it was just some kind of corny ass typical romance album with cheesy lyrics a little angst. Every band had that at some point. Maybe it wasn't even dedicated for you. You hoped it wasn't dedicated to you. However, the moment you saw the album cover, you could physically feel the color draining out of your face.

But it's alright 'Cause it was all in my mind To begin with (And you don't know why)

It was a picture of you and Mizu in the old studio. Your body turned to the side as you wrote something on your clipboard. Mizu was at the background tuning her guitar. Of course they had the decency to blur out your face, but you knew.

You fucking knew.

God, you loved this picture so much.

"Mizu...do you think we should add crushcrushcrush to our song list for the next gig," you asked, eyes trained on your clipboard. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. Damn, this client was stingy. Only 3 songs? How were you going to fit a whole ass gig into three songs?

She looked up from her guitar before her eyes glanced at Akemi who was just beside you, giggling as she looked at her digital camera then back at her with a sly smile, showing the camera to her mischievously. Mizu immediately turned around in fear of her face being captured in the photo, fiddling with her guitar while she thought of an answer. "...Well if you want a Paramore song, I think Ignorance would be better," she said quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

"Although...I still think One Weak is better. Make Taigen sing or something," she suggested, plucking the strings of her guitar as she tuned it. A small 'I second that' could be heard from Akemi as she pointed the camera towards you. Your eyes widened in delight at the suggestion, immediately writing it down on your clipboard. "That's not a bad idea! Not bad at a—"

You were cut off by the loud click sound of a camera, followed by the bright lights of the camera flash. "Oops.." Akemi mumbled sheepishly as she watched you rub your eyes. Just as she was going to hide the camera in her bag, you waved your hand around before gesturing her to give it to you.

Mizu couldn't help but be curious, setting her guitar down to take a peek. "Woah..." you mumbled, grinning at the picture.

It was perfect.

The slight tint from how old the camera was gave it a vintage look. The way your skirt rode up slightly from how you crossed your legs gave it a slightly lewd feel. And along with your combat boots? It definitely had that edge. Y'know? Like that little irresistible charm that made you stare at album covers like Around the Fur.

Mhmm.. don't even deny it. We've all stared at that album cover before.

Even the way Mizu was standing at the background looked so badass. Her back turned from the camera, so sturdy and strong. She definitely had that natural mysterious vibe that drew everyone in.

Everything about this picture...made your heart race.

"Looks like an album cover," Mizu commented, sitting down next to you. A small blush appearing on her cheeks as her eyes traced your legs. The three of you nodded in agreement, each with your own smiles. "Hmm.. maybe if we make it big somehow. We could use this," Akemi suggested.

You nodded, smiling at the photo fondly. "Yeah, let's make it big together," you mumbled, eyes still staring at the picture. God, you loved this picture so much.

God, you hated this picture so much.

Keep the chaos 'cause you don't know why

"Oh don't be such a fucking narcissist. Just because we used a picture you loved so damn much, doesn't mean its for you," she growled, hairs on the back of her neck standing up from anger.

Slowly, her hands gripped your collar tighter, ignoring the pain your nails were inflicting on her, shoving you until your back collided with the cool metal of the trailer. Your body trapped between the vehicle and her body. The tension was so thick it was suffocating you.

You could feel the air being squeezed out from your throat as you continued to glare at her, not letting this go. "Then tell me, Mizu." A small cough escaping your throat as your breathing turned into wheezing. "Who...who is this stupid fucking album for?"

Her eyes narrowed at your question, continuing to stare at you intensely but gave no answer. Although the slight tremble and weakening of her grip told you that you definitely struck a nerve. The silence was unnerving and even with the lack of oxygen, it was pissing you off.

"Answer me, you bitch!" With the remaining energy you had, you lifted your leg before stomping it towards her, digging your foot onto her stomach.

Immediately, her hands let go of your collar as she reeled back, coughing and wheezing. Your hands rubbed at the area where the friction from your collar burned your skin, trying to soothe it as you tried your best to regain your breath.

It was a good try, but Mizu was strong. So strong and well-built. The body that used to keep you close, holding the umbrella for you, trying to hide the shiver in the cold so she could lend you her jacket, was now pinning you to the ground. Knees weighing down on your hands and her weight pushed on to you. You loved her. You hated her. You love her so much.

I heard your song but I wasn't impressed So, you got your feels hurt and now you're feeling depressed Just because we had sex and it didn't last? Now you want revenge, you wanna put me on blast?

"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now," she said in a low voice. Her long, rough, slender fingers wrapping around your neck, squeezing it lightly. You could feel the hesitance in her hold, the slight tremble of her hands and the almost invisible quivering of her lips, contrasting the harshness of her expression.

"You're such a fucking bitch," you coughed out, eyes narrowing as you tried to lift her weight off your body. "Tell me who that motherfucking album is for! Spit it the fuck out!"

Eyes narrowed further as she gritted her teeth, jaw clenching. Her hands squeezing against your throat further, other hand balling into a fist as she lifted it out. Anger emanated from her gaze, burning deeply as she looked at you. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then her soul must be either dead or burning with rage more than ever. And yours? Yours filled with a type of hatred that seemed to deep to be quenched.

No, don't look at her like that.

Fists raised and clenched tightly, mind violent and filled with rage. And yet, she could see no fear in you. Even with the threat of pain, you looked at her with no fear, as if you thought she could never hurt you. Even with the threat of pain, you felt no fear, as if you knew she could never hurt you. Mizu could never do that to you.

So please, don't look at her like that

Her breathing became heavier as she continued to glare at you, fist shaking until eventually letting go. She let out an exhale, eyes glossing over ever-so-slightly. 'What the hell am I doing?', she thought, throat tightening as a lump formed, making it hard for her to breathe. Your form under her, too beautiful, too lovely.

She couldn't do it. Not to you.

Slowly, she got off of your body, sitting on the spot next to you as the two of you looked up at the sky, except her eyes were on your figure. You took a deep breath before eventually looking at her, admiring her features. "You changed so much.." you mumbled, glare softening but still there. "Tell me. That album...was for me, wasn't it?"

A sigh escaped her lips before she gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Why?" you asked, sitting up slowly.

"Why'd you have to.."

"Because you're a fucking liar."

Your eyes widened before narrowing into the harsh glare it was before. "Liar? How am I a liar?" you almost yelled, voice a bit raspy.

Her eyes glared back at you, nails digging into her own skin of her palms. "You fucking sold my contract. To Fowler of all people!" she exclaimed. "Have you ever considered how I felt? Did you even think of me?"

"Of course I thought of you! If I didn't hand over your contract to Fowler, you wouldn't be where you fucking are!" you yelled back, turning to face her. "Look at you now! The biggest and fastest rising star! People are praising you like you're some sort of modern Kurt Cobain, Mizu! Can't you be fucking grateful?!"

Grateful?

Don't make me laugh

She stood up and grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you up harshly, your sides almost colliding with the trailer yet again. Rage enveloping her being, radiating from her as she approached you, fingers digging into your shoulders. "You didn't think about me! Fuck, you didn't think about any of us at all!"

"How about Ringo? Taigen? Akemi? Where the fuck are they now after you disbanded us, left us all rotting, for Abijah's stupid fuckin' agenda?!" she almost croaked out, face getting closer to yours. Her jaw clenching as her hands trembled in both anger and the desire to be soft with you.

You couldn't believe what she was saying right now. You didn't even think of her? How could she say that after you gave her to the best, to make her dreams come true? Harshly, you pushed her off of you. Now it was your turn to grab her by the collar, pulling her to your height. "Abijah's 'stupid fucking agenda' is what got you where you are, Mizu,'' you growled. "Talent recognizes talent and Abijah is the most talented manager in the industry and he wanted you. The kingmaker wanted you."

A strange sense of disappointment towards you swirled into her eyes. It was stupid of her to think that if she met you again, things would go back to the way they were. An unexplainable retching in her gut welling up as she listened to you speak. Was this it? Was this why you sold her fucking contract?

"You wanted to be a star, he made you a star. I made you a—"

"I never fucking wanted to be a star!" she yelled, glare hardening. Confusion painted over your face, making the anger in your eyes falter. Her disappointment and dismay in full view as opposed to the anger she held earlier. "I don't understand, Mizu. Isn't this why you joined—"

"I fucking joined your stupid band to be with you, dumbass," she sighed, pulling your hands off of her collar. "It was never about making it big. I just...wanted to play and be with you."

Her hands held yours softly as she looked away. "You told me we'd stay together as a band. That we'd be together no matter if we made it big or not." The grip she had on your hands trembling slightly as it tightened. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before looking at you straight in the eyes. "But you're a fucking liar, aren't you?"

For the first time since you've heard of Mizu's concert in your home city, you were speechless. Thoughts empty as you tried to process her words. Hatred quelled deep in your heart. "Mizu.. I really don't understand," you replied, hands desperately trying to hold hers as she tried to pull away.

She looked down at you with a sigh. The heavy feeling weighing down both your chests. With one look at your eyes, she knew this was too difficult for both of you. And maybe, this was just how the world worked.

She loved you. She loves you. But she can't help but hate you too.

"Go. Get the fuck out of here," she said coldly, turning to head back, making you even more confused and even a bit more pissed off. An unexplainable anger gnawing at her insides, making her throat tighten. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Her feet made its way towards the backstage. Ringing echoing in her ears as you plead her to come back, to explain, to talk to you. She heard nothing because she knew nothing would get her feelings into your dense little brain. This was pointless.

Before opening the door to head into the backstage, she took one last look at you. Her eyes tracing your figure, admiring your features that she had grown to love so much. Even with your bruises, anger, and hatred, you really were the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.

Just as she was about to turn away, your hands traveled to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to your waist, sticking your tongue out as if to mock her cowardice. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she caught a glimpse of your underwear.

'It's pink', she thought with a groan, glaring at you before storming inside and slamming the door behind her. Once she was inside, she hid her face behind her hands, breathing heavily. How fucked up did you have to be to tug at her heart at a time like this?

She really did hate you. You really did hate her.

The feeling was mutual.

[marunalu]

Hi. Many fans disappointed with new chapter. I see many complaining. I am more pissed because of Bakugo.

I am now sure that in next chapter Izuku will be catched by Ochako or sonehow Shigaraki give Izuku OFA back or his original quirk. Dont know.

How do you think DFO will be revealed then Shigaraki and AFO destroyed? Both spirituality and phisicaly.

Well, its no wonder people are upset after that shitfest of a chapter. That propably was the most anticlimactic final bossfight I have ever seen in a manga and after all the talking how izuku wants to safe tomura, dude just dies and izuku is fine with it. He just failed his attempt to save the person he wanted to save the most, but hey I guess the fistbum makes up for it (it does NOT!) Im actually curious how the japanese fanbase reacted to all of that.

I mean, of course hori had to force bakugou in it for a final time. Hes his golden baby boy afterall. Izuku cant do anything without bakugous or other peoples help. He is not allowed to shine on his own in his own fight against the main villain in HIS story. Nope, bakugou needed to help to give the final blow to afo TWICE, because HE is the true VIP of mha! I have actually seen quite a few bakugou fan who were not happy about it. If even his FANS complain about how forced and unnecessary that part was, maybe hori should ask himself if his staning for that one specific character is not going a little bit to far. I mean, seems like we just were all dumb. At the beginning of the story we were told izuku is a useless loser because he cant do anything without the help of others and in the end it turns out it was true. How could we not see that comming? The mc was not allowed to defeat the main villain himself and needs others, espicially his abuser to help him. Wow, what a great message! And the most depressing point is that hori was clearly trying to make that look like a positiv thing. There is one thing I can say for sure. I will never touch any work from hori ever again.

If this was really the conclusion of the final fight, then congratulation hori, you managed to write a more rushed and horrible conclusion for your story, then tite kubo did with bleach (which to be fair was not kubos fault but shonen jumps). Hori did literally EVERY SINGLE character except bakugou dirty and in the end even startet to write against his own established themes in the story.

Regarding dfo: I already mentioned it a few times in the past. Im still positiv dfo is canon BUT I also said I dont think anymore that dfo will end in a satisfying way. Which actually goes against what hori said, that readers wont feel dissapointed when he reveals hisashis true identity. But, right now I dont see how hori plans to manage that even with a twist. Even if lets say the clone theory ends up true (which would be hilarious because I was JOKING when I came up with it), it still would feel like so much wasted potential. And the thing is, while it would make me happy if it turns out true I would still be mad about all the rest hori fucked up which would make it impossible for me to enjoy the dfo reveal. And as much as I love dfo, if it turns out the afo clone theory is true and hisashi is the real afo who gets a happy ending while tomura stays dead and doesnt get one after everything afo did to him and the rest of the lov stay miserable too, I will still give hori the middlefinger. The only way I would be able to enjoy it is if hisashi ends up as the afo clone who choose a different path then his original body. It would still make dfo canon just in a unexpected way and it could be interesting to see in hisashi that afo COULD have been happy if he had choose a similar way.

I dont know, maybe in the end there is really some kind of twist involved. Shonen jump still hasnt announced that mha will end in the next few chapters and normally they do that at least 5-10 chapters before the final chapter. Maybe we are just panicking over nothing and hori has everything planned out perfectly. Maybe there is more to come. We really cant say for sure. There are still some plots who need answers and I cant see how hori wants to conclude everything in just 2 more chapters. On the other side this final arc was horrible rushed, even more horrible written and all in all a big dissapointment and waste of a lot of peoples time.

Who knows maybe thats why there is a break next week. So hori can wait for the reactions of the readers and include whatever twist he may think could work.

[yellowraincoat]

I wonder sometimes what the L&Co crew did after they aged out of having the sight. Obviously Lucy makes some mention of them helping DEPRAC clear the other side and you can help with that even w/o sight thanks to the Orpheus society, but I don’t imagine they did that forever or even full time.

I’ve actually thought a LOT about what I think they end up doing as adults so… here’s an extremely long post about it:

George’s path is obvious to me. He becomes a foremost voice on the nature of the problem, and he’s able to go to Oxford for university (or the most prestigious UK university still running) on this basis. He gets a degree in history and goes on to a PHD. He then dedicates several years to writing a complete, multi-volume, history of the problem/agencies/corruption/visitors (which will go down in history as THE TEXT about the problem)

… I’ll put the rest under the cut bc this is fr going to be lonnnng

We also know from the existence of Lockwood and Co the books that Lucy at some point metatextually writes a memoir detailing the antics of Lockwood and co. (Which, go off girlboss, she did a great job.) For Lucy’s career path, I imagine that she is a formal DEPRAC partner for a time goes to the other side more than any of her other L&Co colleagues to help out.

This may be a weird take, but I also think that Lucy’s relationship with the Skull and all the weird experiments on ghosts she witnesses lead her to go all GHOST RIGHTS. She campaigns for seeing ghosts differently and repsecting the dead and works to get DEPRAC to create better regulations for how sources are treated when contained and advocates for figuring out how to release them to the other side rather than destroying sources as a first move. Idk I think it suits her relationship to ghosts; she’s definitely more invested in their humanity than other agents.

I don’t think Lockwood would try to hire young agents as a supervisor to keep the agency going after losing his sight. Especially since he’s aware that the problem is fading and considering he’d still have work available through DEPRAC. I think Lockwood spends his first few post-sight years in lots of therapy and takes time off from working since he’s been running a very intense business since he was like 14. I also think he foots the bill for Flo to get a therapist as well.

They’re both able to work through their grief and trauma from the people they’ve lost, Lockwood works through his habit of repressing his feelings, and Flo works through her feelings of being cornered while in doors. Flo eventually moves into Portland Row, and she and George and Lucy and Lockwood spend most of their young adult lives (whole lives if you ask me) living in the same house or living right next door to each other.

As for Lockwood’s actual career path I think Lockwood’s would make it his life’s work to share his parents findings. He spreads the traditional burial practices and ways to ward off ghosts like that Lockwood’s parent’s researched to help people protect themselves from ghosts around the UK as the problem fades.

I don’t know that I see Flo having a real job. I could see her in advocacy for housing insecure youth (we know London has MANY due to the Problem) but I’d also like to see her have a relaxing-ass life. Enjoy therapy and her friends, date George, plant a vegetable garden. Flo’s never cared much about material goods so I could see her working odd jobs here and there to help contribute to Portland Row Expenses, but mostly focus on nonprofit work and political activism while enjoying her life.

I think both Kipps and Holly stay on at Lockwood and co until it permanently disbands, then I imagine they both work to advocate for the rights of former agents in some capacity. If Holly could further her eduction I think she’d work in the legal system, maybe working in administration/research on cases that are attempting to hold leaders of the Orpheus society and high up Fittes and Rottweil people accountable for compensating traumatized former agents. Oh and she asks out that girl from DEPRAC she was living with (and they were roommates oh my god they were roommates)

I think Kipps might (after he’s matured a bit) get involved with a young adult professional development program trying to address all of the former agents and nightwatch kids who forwent education at a young age to hunt ghosts and help them access free education and classes to gain new marketable skills as the ghost hunting industry declines and kids age out of the sight. He also stops beefing with teenagers (so much) and lives out his destiny as surrogate brother/20 year old adopted father to Lucy George and the rest. And he gets himself a husband bc he deserves it 😤

As for the Skull… I’m in the camp that he does return and he occasionally stops by Portland Row to chat with Lucy and pull poltergeists type pranks on the other residents. When Lucy can no longer hear him 🥲 I still think he sticks around for a while, making his presence known by moving objects and helping keep the house cool in the summer (yayyy ghost chill), he also still speaks to Lucy when she does work on the other side with DEPRAC. But eventually, maybe when Lucy’s in her late twenties, the skull feels ready to move on, and Lucy visits to the other side to say good by and help him pass on.

[gumnut-logic]

J Protocol

The Protocols

This one is a long time coming and I've been staring at it for hours, so have no idea if it is good enough and it hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so I'm going in blind.

This is for @onereyofstarlight who has waited long enough ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

John liked to be alone.

It allowed him to rest, to think, and to be himself. There were no demands on how he needed to act, what he was wearing or what he felt like saying.

Alone he could serenade the stars, karaoke dance to his ABBA collection, read without anyone commenting on what he was reading, and, hell, leave the bathroom door open if he wanted to. Being alone had its advantages.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Today had been an unpleasant one.

The fish brother in the back of his head cried foul and described it in much more colourful terms, in several different languages - did Gordon actually know how to speak Greek? All of the above would have had Grandma threatening to clean his mouth out with soap, but really, John couldn’t help but agree with the description.

Even the thought of his little brother had him smiling just a little as Thunderbird Five slowly grew larger.

He had been out in his exosuit, something he usually enjoyed when a rescue was close by. This had involved a couple of idiots in orbit who had done something very, very stupid.

And it cost them everything.

John had been fast, but space was faster and it took their lives.

Scott had been on comms at the time. His eldest brother had all the kind words amongst the command decisions, but a mission failure was still a failure and after the long shift before it, John was just tired and sad.

Returning home to Five was a relief, but there was part of him, a very small part of him, who missed the loud of home.

He liked being alone.

But he loved his family.

And today sucked all the ass.

Gordon, watch your language.

Talkin’ to yourself, bro.

Solitude also tended to promote conversations with himself.

“John, which airlock will you be using?”

But then, was he truly alone?

“The rear ‘lock, Eos. The suit needs some repairs and a good clean.”

“Should I alert Virgil?”

“No, I can manage.” But that would be an excuse to see his big brother. Virgil wasn’t a fan of space, but he would drop by at any hint of John needing help.

A glance in the direction of Tracy Island, in midnight darkness just like the whole half a planet beneath him.

John sighed as he slowed, firing reverse thrusters to kill off his velocity, to a smooth pacing of Five. Splattering himself across her solar panels would certainly be an undesirable end to an already shitty day.

Eos had the airlock open and waiting, enabling John to slip in quietly. Five crept around him with her protection. Being out in space was a raw experience. Beautiful, but raw. His ‘bird provided a sense of security with cahelium between him and the harsh environment.

The airlock sealed and the air pressure welled up, familiar in its reassuring caress. The inner door slipped open and he pushed off gently into the module he had left in such a hurry several hours earlier.

He ran through the disassembly routine for his exosuit, robotic arms pulling it gently from his body. For some reason he found himself leaning into that metallic touch.

Damn, maybe he had been away from Tracy Island for too long.

He would have to schedule some leave.

But he had that experiment running…and Auckland University were waiting for his write up on his comet. He could do the writing on Tracy Island - would his brothers give him the space?

The pun was ignored.

His brothers tried. He knew they tried. They respected his wishes as much as they could. Didn’t understand them, but respected them. They knew social interaction took energy he felt better spent elsewhere. They knew that what worked for them didn’t necessarily work for him.

They tried.

Hard.

But he also knew they missed him.

And he loved them for it.

Returning to Earth added him to their lives in three dimensions and they often wanted to take advantage of that. Hell, he wanted to take advantage.

But there was transition time from space to Earth, and all the stuff he had up here, and…

God, he was tired.

The mechanics finished up, leaving him floating free in the centre of the module.

He let himself drift just a little.

“John?”

Eos didn’t ask if he was okay, but the question was there anyway.

He sighed. “Stash the exosuit, I’ll do the repairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, John.” How did she put so much emotional inflection into those two words?

He refused to sigh again, simply reaching out to touch the wall and nudge himself towards the airlock leading into the central hub of Five.

The room lit up as he entered, the familiar map of the planet below spreading out across the spherical walls. The rescue indicators were clear for once in his life and he was quite happy to pass by the map and head for the gravity ring, aiming for his bathroom and the chance to clean off the sweat under his uniform.

“Hey.”

The sudden appearance of a body blocking his path confused his exhausted brain and he was slow to connect the dots of green, blue and heavy lifting brother.

“Whoa, Johnny, take a breath.”

A hand steadied him where his reaction had sent him spinning just a little.

“Virgil? What? Eos, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Virgil asked me not to. You said I should listen to Virgil, so I did.”

John deflated, and sighed in exasperation. “Virgil, why? You scared the shit out of me.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

Okay, so plain, old boring swear words weren’t usually his thing, but he was tired.

That eyebrow twitched in his direction.

Oh.

“Just dropping in for a home visit. That last situation was a rough one.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He pushed past his brother. “Just need some sleep.”

“Uh-huh.”

John rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out into the ring, his feet lightly landing in the low gravity environment. He strode across cahelium reinforced glass. “If you’re going to order me back to Tracy Island, I rather you didn’t.”

Virgil was obviously following him, the soft squeak of his specialised boots on the glass a not unfamiliar sound. “Haven’t even thought about it. Just wanted to drop by and see how you were going.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I’m a night owl.” He could feel his brother’s smile bounce off the back of his head.

John grunted as he reached the doors to his rooms. He turned to his brother standing behind him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Back shortly.”

“Scott says debrief in the morning, but I would like to check you over before bed.”

“Really?” It was whiney and childish, and he earned that extra eyebrow arch, but damnit, he was tired.

“Really.” And there was just that touch of steel in Virgil’s voice. Not quite the same as Scott’s commander tone, but just as final. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

“Fine.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it behind him with all the petulance he felt right now.

Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he follow him.

It only took a moment or two for the guilt to sink in and John was faced with the fact that Virgil was worried about him. He climbed up into orbit, into space which he didn’t enjoy, to check on his little brother, only to encounter …John.

He let his head drop against the glass of his bedroom wall. Because of the lower gravity, his forehead did not hit with any of the thump he needed it to.

A sigh. He would apologise, but first he needed to get clean.

-o-o-o-

It was a bit longer than he had expected when he finally emerged from his rooms, but he felt just a little bit more human for the clean and new spacesuit.

Time also helped. His head had been caught up in rescue gone bad. Those few extra minutes helped him step back and breathe.

Virgil wasn’t outside his door, which, considering he’d likely left him with the impression he might have to hogtie John to get the readings he needed, was a surprise.

“Eos, where is Virgil?”

“In the infirmary. John, do you like pineapple?”

He frowned, heading in the direction of the small room set aside for medical needs on the gravity ring. “Yes, why?”

“Even if it is on pizza?”

“Uh, no. Pineapple should never be put on pizza.” He frowned as he slipped into the infirmary. “Have you been talking to Gordon?”

“Yes, and he is most emphatic that pizza should include pineapple in its toppings.”

“Gordon has issues.”

Virgil snorted. “That he does.” His brother looked up as John entered. Apparently, he was doing a medical supply inventory.

He had removed his baldric and harness, and was standing in his overalls-styled uniform without his usual green. It wasn’t right.

As if sensing John’s affronted senses, Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

John shrugged and sat down quietly, and obediently, on the small bed. “You need the green.”

Virgil looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose. “I do feel kind of naked.”

“So why did you take it off?”

“Didn’t need it. Need the suit for safety, but didn’t want to clink every time I moved.” He pulled the medscanner out of it protective sleeve on the bulkhead.

John held up a hand. “Sorry about before. I-“

Virgil put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. Been there, it’s not fun. Understandable.” And that was the end of that.

Virgil gently pushed John’s arm down to his side and began waving the scanner over John’s body.

Ten seconds later he turned off the scanner. “You’re good. Could do with some food, drink and sleep, but everything else is fine. You don’t even have any bruises.” A gentle smile. “You’re good, John.”

“Thank you.” There was a double meaning there, good in health and a compliment on a good job done. “And thank you for coming all the way up here. I could have saved you the trip.” He did know how to use the medscanner, after all.

“There is more to your health than what that scanner can tell me.” Virgil eyed him as he put the device away. “Besides, I like to see my all my brothers from time to time.”

“The time, Virgil. You should be in bed.”

Then as if to throw John completely out of whatever universe he was currently in, Alan bounded through the door. “Virg, it’s working. All ready to go.” His littlest brother looked up. “Oh, hey, John.” And he darted out as fast as he had entered.

“What?” The word burst out of his mouth. “How-?” He glared at Virgil. “What’s going on?”

But Virgil just straightened and smiled. “J Protocol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Virgil strode past him and pushed open the door. “Come with.”

John found his mouth open and had to shut it. “Virgil-“

“Nope.” His brother waved an arm towards the door. “C’mon.”

Instinctively, John knew that if he didn’t move, Virgil would start on more drastic transport options. After all, John had seen his heavy lifting brother throw Scott over his shoulder in exasperation.

Virgil always got his way eventually.

John let his shoulders drop and walked through the door.

This time he felt like stomping instead of slamming, but the same emotion was behind both.

“Virgil, I’m fine.”

His brother nudged him forward as he shut the door behind them. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“But-“

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “John, you need this.”

“I-“

But his brother herded him through the airlock into the central hub of Thunderbird Five.

The sphere was full of brothers.

And pizza boxes.

Scott was sitting cross-legged like some kind of suspended Buddha, poking at his phone. Gordon was upside down chattering non-stop to Alan who was the right way up - there was no ‘up’ in space, but there definitely was an ‘up’ on Thunderbird Five, despite the lack of gravity in her central hub - and conversing with an ease that spoke of extensive space experience.

An irrational sense of pride of his littlest brother swelled John’s heart.

All at once the three brothers realised John was in the room.

“Johnny! Welcome to the party!”

Alan flipped midair in an obvious over-the-top move to land right next to John. “Hey, John, way until you see what we’ve done.”

John frowned. “What have you done?” They better not have messed with his ‘bird.

But Scott had unfolded and was narrowing in on John with a frown. He didn’t say anything, just glanced a question at Virgil who gave him a nod.

His two eldest brothers were irritating when they did that, especially when the non-verbal conversation was obviously about him.

Scott reached out and gently clasped John’s arm. “Good job out there today.”

Yesterday, technically. “What are you all doing up here?”

“Pizza party!” Gordon’s eyes were glowing with glee.

“At 2.30 in the morning?”

Scott shrugged. “Sometimes pizza is just needed.” And there was something in his big brother’s eyes.

Goddamnit, he was fine.

But then Scott gently pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t tight, just a wrap of his arms around John, his head resting, just touching John’s shoulder.

The room was oddly silent.

And John found himself leaning into the hug. His brother’s caring touch etching into his skin, drawing him in deeper, feeding a need he hadn’t realised he had.

His head fell quietly onto Scott’s shoulder. The moment it touched, his brother’s grip tightened just a fraction before loosening again…so, so gentle.

Oh god.

But then Scott was equally as gently pulling away, blue eyes eyeing him as if unsure how he would react. Perhaps gauging his next move.

A big hand landed on his back and its partner wrapped around Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Virgil nudged himself between them, aiming for the huge pile of floating boxes.

The moment snapped and the world started moving again. Gordon and Alan joined Virgil with the boxes, happily discussing toppings…which ultimately led to the ongoing war between yes-pineapple and no-pineapple on pizza.

Gordon was never going to win that one, outvoted four to one, but he was a determined fish and kept up the battle at every chance.

It was a familiar sound of home.

Blue eyes were still staring at him. Saying so much unsaid.

“Hey, Johnny, me and Virg set up something cool for you.” Alan was bouncing as much as he could in a zero-g environment.

It forced John to look away from Scott. “What have you done?”

“Virgil said he wanted to set you free, but keep you safe, so we did this.” Alan poked at his wrist control.

And the hub walls disappeared.

What?

All his brothers, the stack of pizza, the random slice of pepperoni that chose that moment to drift through his eyeline - all of it, and them, was floating above the night side of Earth with nothing around them.

Thunderbird Five was gone.

His breath caught in his throat. “How?”

Virgil was smiling as he gazed at the view, pizza slice in hand. “A few more sensors on her hull, improved communication with the holoprojectors, and a little bit of programming by Alan, and you have your own space-themed holodeck.”

He stared at the lights of Auckland and Sydney. “You built me a holodeck?”

“Isn’t it cool?!” Alan was definitely bouncing.

John nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“This is the default view. It draws directly from Five’s exterior sensors. What you see here is what you’d see if we were outside. But I did add a few of my favourites for you and tweaked the input from your telescopes.”

Alan poked at his wrist control and Earth vanished.

It was replaced with a view of the Andromeda Galaxy. They were staring down at a sea of swirling stars surrounded by the deepest darkness.

“It’s not interactive, though. The processing power required for this resolution is huge and Five does have a much larger program it needs to keep safe.” He looked up for a moment, but when there was no response, Alan warily turned his attention back to John. “If you want to add more views, we’ll need to up Five’s storage. We should probably do that anyway. Never hurts to have more storage.”

“Says the video game addict.” Gordon snorted.

“Hey, your holos of fish take up more room than my games.”

“Are you kidding? Zombie death 16 pushed me onto external storage.”

“That was an accident.”

“How?”

“I may have put it on the house servers twice.”

“What? Did you delete it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Guys?” Virgil’s voice was ever so tolerant.

Gordon and Alan glanced at John. “Sorry.” It was a chorus of the both of them.

No, this was fine. It really was.

Andromeda glowed beneath them.

His family was…being his family.

And there was pizza.

He let himself float and closed his eyes.

The smell of toasted cheese and tomato sauce, peppers, that unique pizza smell.

His brothers talking quietly - Gordon and Alan still at it, but desperately trying to be quiet about it. John would look at digital storage options both for Tracy Island and Thunderbird Five tomorrow.

At the moment…

A soft touch to his shoulder and Virgil was offering him a slice of cheeseburger pizza, his favourite.

Scott had gone back to being aTracy Industries Buddha…until Virgil coasted past, snatched his phone out of his hand, and smoothly replaced it with a slice of pepperoni and cheese.

Scott’s protest was muffled by Virgil’s glare.

John bit into his pizza slice surrounded by his family and an amazing projection of his second favourite galaxy.

Yes, he liked to be alone.

But he also loved his family.

And they loved him enough to follow him.

-o-o-o-

[vaguesxrrow]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE EDWIN X RECENTLY DEAD MALE READER!!!! I NEED MORE MLM READER STUFF AND ALSO I'M A SUCKER FOR THE LONG DEAD AND USED TO IT/THE RECENTLY DEAD CONFUSED AND SCARED THING!!!!

hii yes ofc ! lovedd writing this so i hope u enjoy reading :>>

edwin payne / recently dead!reader

a/n: reader's cause of death is unspecified aside from he died on the street, and also he has an apartment.

anddd uh i forgot that death usually comes for newly dead people... so excuse that inaccuracy please or explain it away with how reader ran away from his body

wc: 1886

tags: male reader, ghost reader

cw's: mention of death, panic attacks (all not detailed)

you ran, leaving your body behind you where it lay on the sidewalk, limp and as still as rigor mortis (you never thought that saying could be applied literally, but now it was, and wasn't that crazy?).

you were panicking, you vaguely registered, as the passerby's and the cars seemed to blur in your vision. people kept passing right through you, and you hunched in on yourself. even if you couldn't feel them (which was also a new, unwelcome epiphany), it still made your skin crawl.

until - a firm hand rested on your shoulder. your breath hitched, like you couldn't quite figure out if the touch was welcome or not.

"are you quite alright?" the hand's voice asked. you looked up, half expecting to see a horror movie-style ghost. instead, however, you were met with angled features that were sharp, yet softened by visible concern at the same time. the boy's brown eyes were narrowed, and his hair looked a little wind swept.

okay. definitely a welcome touch.

"can you hear me? are you alright?" he repeated.

you snapped out of your stupor. "oh," you said dumbly. "i- i don't... know."

he cocked his head to the side, sympathy in the way he pursed his lips and his gaze became gentler. "what do you last remember?"

"...i was walking. and then... i wasn't? it's kind of black after that. i was laying down when i came to..." your eyes widened. you meant to ask, 'am i dead?', but instead what came out was a strangled, "oh my god."

"it is important to remain calm," edwin advised. "i can help you."

you nodded vigorously. "okay, yeah, i could use your help." especially because your voice was getting an octave higher with every word you spoke. so much for remaining calm.

before you knew it, the boy had guided you to a bench and sat you on it, plopping down right next to you as he waited for you to regain your composure. his arm was around yours, securing you snugly to his side - it was comforting.

"i'm dead, aren't i?" you intoned numbly.

he sighed. "yes. but that does not mean everything is over."

"earlier... everyone just passed through me. like i wasn't there at all."

"it is lonely, at first. but then it is not," he said. "take my case for example - my best mate is charles - he's dead as well - and we have two alive friends named crystal and niko, who are part of the small proportion of people who can see us. when you find the right people, it becomes very difficult to feel lonely."

"charles, crystal, and niko..." you repeated. "and what's your name?"

"edwin payne."

"nice to meet you, edwin. and thanks for helping. i'm [name]."

"not a problem," edwin said. "my friends and i are often in the habit of assisting ghosts, although you are the first recently dead i have personally come across in a very long time."

"how long?" you inquired. "i mean, when did you... kick the bucket?"

"1916," he told you gently.

your eyes widened. "riiight."

you fell silent again. as you were contemplating your current circumstances, several voices yelled edwin's name.

approaching you were three people. two girls - one with white hair, the other with curly brown - and a boy with near-black ringlets.

"edwin, mate, we couldn't find you anywhere!" the boy exclaimed.

"yes, well-" edwin began.

"who's this?" the white haired girl cut in, looking at you curiously.

edwin rolled his eyes fondly. "this is [name]. he recently... became a ghost."

"does he know any cool ghost tricks yet?" she asked.

you thought you felt a headache coming on.

"[name], these are my friends. niko, crystal, and charles." he gestured to them in order of mention. they all waved at you, even if the last two looked a bit wary.

"hi," you said meekly.

"we were just discussing the events of [name]'s death."

charles coughed pointedly. "maybe give the guy time to process he even is dead?"

"oh! my apologies, [name]. are you still feeling unwell?"

your eyes darted between crystal and niko as they exchanged glances at edwin's apology, like they were surprised. it confused you as to why - he seemed perfectly nice so far... and very charming.

"i'm good," you told edwin, flashing a smile. "i just... don't know where to go. i can't go back to my apartment, can i? i'm dead. it's not like i could continue living there."

"i read somewhere that it's good to revisit places from the past," niko informed you earnestly. "it can be very healing."

"hey, edwin, you should walk him back to his apartment!" crystal piped up.

"hm?" niko cocked her head at her friend. "oh! oh, yes, edwin, you totally should. you're a dead boy detective, after all. go help people!"

you thought you'd get whiplash trying to keep up with the conversation. "you're a what now-?"

edwid stood abruptly, brushing invisible dust off his coat. "perhaps i will walk [name] back to his apartment. if you feel inclined to." the last part was directed at you.

"oh- i wouldn't want to inconvenience you guys..." you said.

"nonsense." he held out a hand to you. "we are the dead boy detective agency, after all."

you still didn't know what that was, but you trusted edwin in spite of only having known him for less than an hour. so, you took his hand. you couldn't feel it, but the imagined weight and warmth of his palm against yours gave you comfort, dissipating the fear and apprehension inside you just a little bit.

⌦ --

the apartment building loomed above you. suddenly, it felt so big and intimidating - you felt no trace of excitement at the quaintness of it like you always had before. the reason you chose to live here was the brick walls and the carefully tended vines snaking along the front. not to mention, it was tall - 10 stories - and sort of reminded you of rapunzel's tower.

"ready?" edwin prompted.

you nodded, and let him pull you through the door - which you passed through with ease. you knew you were incorporeal at best in your current state, but you still cringed, bracing yourself for an impact that never came.

"it gets easier, eventually," edwin told you, having noticed your unease.

"yeah, okay," you said. and you were convinced. "i guess it'll help having an experienced ghost guide with me." you beamed at him.

his lips parted slightly in surprise. "i promise to do whatever i can to make this adjustment easier for you."

you chuckled. "edwin, you are honestly so charming..." you muttered to yourself as you headed towards the elevator. another reason you loved this complex so much was because you didn't have to conquer the 10 floors with just the stairs.

how did ghosts usually travel up places? you had no clue, but you were grateful that edwin kept silent at your decision to take the lift.

a 'ding' sounded and the doors parted open, instantaneously revealing the door that led to your room. your landlady had been kind enough to let you paint it a lovely burnt orange colour.

"that's me," you sighed. "c'mon."

your apartment was just as you remembered you left it this morning. not that you'd logically expected any change... but the fear-addled part of you had maybe been picturing a ransacked room, band posters ripped off the wall and all your ceramic cups shattered across the floor.

"this is weird," you voiced as you drifted from the door to the couch, then to the small kitchenette.

you shivered, not from the cold - you would never feel cold again, you thought, a bit hysterically - but from the all-encompassing grief you felt for yourself.

"i'm kind of sad i died. i know i'm still here... i'm not gone gone, or anything, but i'm still sad. is that weird?" you turned towards edwin, who was watching you with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

"not at all." he put a hand on your shoulder. "there is much more to be done, even after your living time has expired." he paused, seeming to consider something. "i could... i could show you, if you would like."

"show me what?"

"the dead boy detectives' office," he said. "perhaps it will serve as a distraction."

warmth spread inside you, touched at his thoughtfulness. "that'd be great."

"excellent." edwin smiled, looking pleased. "do you have a mirror?"

your iron-tight grip on edwin's hand never ceased its hold, even after the two of you emerged from the other side of the mirror. panting, you gave your insides a moment to settle from the very jarring travel.

"that was so cool," you gasped. "even if it was unexpected. is this what niko meant by cool ghost tricks?"

"quite," edwin said. "now, welcome to the dead boy detectives' office. allow me to show you around."

his hand was still in yours, you noticed as he led you to a bookshelf and gave an overview of the different volumes it held. you made no move to pull away - partially because you didn't want to break his flow (you saw why he was so proud of it, and it was cute hearing him ramble), partially because you enjoyed the contact.

then, he showed you to a shelf that, if you didn't know any better, would have looked like a knick knack shelf, albeit one belonging to an eccentric grandma. on it were objects ranging from bones (human or not, you couldn't tell) to the rubber balls you found in vending machines.

"these," edwin proclaimed. "are the more interesting payments we have received. some enchanted, some not. i keep a document of which are and aren't."

he picked up a metal ring, with a dark sapphire gem in the middle. "like this, for example. it isn't enchanted, but it dates back to the edwardian era. when i was alive." he sighed wistfully, and lifted your hand, where your fingers were still intertwined. "may i?"

you nodded, watching his face. his eyes met yours, and he smiled shyly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"i acknowledge that we have only just become acquainted," edwin began. "but i have never become so fond of a boy this quick before."

"...so, in 21st century speak, you like me?" you questioned, half-teasing.

the two of you chucked in unison.

edwin cleared his throat. "yes, i think i do."

"then you won't mind if i..." you let the way you leaned down slightly finish your sentence.

"please," he said.

the kiss was chaste and fleeting, but it was enough for you to decide you definitely wanted to do it again.

"was that okay?" you checked in with edwin.

he nodded quickly. "yes, yes. very much so."

"good." you bit back a grin.

"would you like to stick around?" he blurted. "around the office, i mean, and with my friends and i. it isn't every day i meet a boy like you, and i... think i would rather like your company."

"i think i'd like your company, too," you admitted.

he held out a hand, making you laugh at the formality of it. "well then, welcome to the dead boy detectives' agency." he said. "i, for one, am very happy to have you here.”

[al-of-the-stars]

Hii! I came back after some time. I hope you are doing good <3

I've recently had my mind on Stolas and Stolas only soooo I have a request:

Could you maybe do something like the reader is Octavias' new mom? I'd honestly prefer if you put child Via but I'm not picky! :))

Also, relationships (cause I don't wanna sound weird) Octavia+Reader= Platonic 〔〕 Stolas+reader= Romantic

And I am so sorry if I'm working this with your request closed! I first do then think!

~💎

A Happy Family

A/n: AAAA THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA!! This was so fun to write! For plot purposes, in this fic, Stella and Stolas had the divorce already when Via was a kid. Hope you enjoy!! :D

You were nervous to say the least. You were about to meet Octavia, Stolas’ daughter. You knew a lot about her already from how much Stolas talked about her. She seemed to be really sweet and on one hand, you were excited to finally meet the little owlette. On the other hand, you were afraid that she wouldn't like you. Stolas’ encouragement definitely helped you feel a bit better. As you entered the castle, you had only one goal: make a good first impression. Stolas wrapped his arm around your waist and led you to the living room, where an adorable purple-haired owl demon sat on the couch. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and waved enthusiastically. 

“Octavia, this is Y/n!” Stoals gestured toward you calmly. You smile and wave back at her, trying to hide how much you were internally panicking. 

“Woah! They're pretty!” She said. Your goal had been achieved! Now all that's left to do is go to Looloo Land and just have fun with your fiance and future daughter. Via watched in excitement as Stolas opened a portal right in front of the gate to her favorite theme park. The rest of the day was spent going on rides, playing super rigged carnival games (which frustrated Stolas to the point where he asked you to take Via elsewhere for a few minutes while he threatened the annoying man running the game), and eating a ton of sugar. When you returned to the castle, Via immediately hugged you.

“Y/n, can I call you Mom?” You hugged her back and held back tears of joy 

“Of course!” As the cute moment continued, you suddenly heard a camera click. You both turn your heads to see Stolas teary eyed with a smile on his face and a camera in his hand. This was a new page in the story and the start of a happy family .

[baejax-the-great]

Archive-locking the fics that YOU WROTE and are thus 100% yours to decide what to do with 'hurting people' is so silly tbh. Skill issue on their part. Wish those people could be normal about the amazing fics that writers like you put out & be understanding or at the very least respectful of the choices that writers make about how and where they make their fics available. Especially in light of recent ai training theft and nonsense & all that.

I hope this doesn't sour the fic writing & sharing experience for you too much. I love your writing & think you're very talented & skilled!

There seem to be dual attitudes I'm coming up against recently (and obviously these are not held by everyone, I don't even know that they are held by a majority, but they are certainly held by a plurality).

The first is that authors should be grateful that readers deign to read what they put out there. I think this stems from the "content creation" mentality and the idea that everyone who posts things wants as massive as an audience as possible (for monetization purposes which... isn't a thing in fanfic). I think this mindset also leads to readers demanding that people write specific tropes/pairings/whatever, or threatening basically to take their business elsewhere. "Nobody will read unless you do [X]." 1. Not true and 2. Okay, you weren't my audience.

(I also think authors circulating those posts about how badly they want comments/kudos feeds this mentality of readers doing authors a favor by even clicking on the fic. "Wow, if people are so desperate for attention, then mine must be worth an awful lot!")

Fanfic ain't a business, and I write for myself. Readers choosing to read my work isn't a privilege or an honor they are bestowing upon me (nor are comments for that matter), just as me posting my writing where they can see it isn't a privilege or an honor for them. We are both engaging in hobbies and a love of some media, and sometimes we will overlap and connect and sometimes we won't. Readers aren't reading out of altruism for attention-starved authors, and authors aren't writing out of altruism for content-hungry readers.

And there are those who will read these paragraphs above and think to themselves "wow, what an ungrateful author," and that's exactly the attitude I'm talking about. Don't get me wrong, it's delightful and rewarding to receive comments on fics and chat with people about Blorbo and the Situations. But it should be delightful from both sides of the exchange, or why the hell are we doing this? If I'm meant to be grateful for every commenter who jumps into my inbox, then every commenter in my inbox better be grateful for me, and I can tell you right now there is a population who is not. There is a population who sees me as a service provider for their entertainment, and whatever form I take in their brain, it is not shaped like a full person.

This attitude also leads to people thinking that things like lorefm are no big deal. Don't I want to get my work in front of more eyeballs (or ears)? Don't I want to broaden my audience? And once I put my work out there for readers to see, should I be shocked (or express any negative emotions at all) when someone plagiarizes/scrapes it for AI/demands updates rudely/reads it on a monetized youtube channel/binds it and sells it for profit?

The other idea I've been coming up against is almost the opposite of this--that because some readers form attachments to fic, deleting that fic (or even archive-locking it!) is actively harming those readers. Sure, they can't be bothered to hit the download button or get an AO3 account, but that's no reason not to think of these strangers first before doing what I want with my creative output.

Yall, life is ephemeral. There are things we will see and enjoy and never find again for one reason or another, and it's not harm being done to us, it's just the nature of existence. Having an emotional reaction to something does not give you any sort of ownership over that thing. Artists are allowed to change their minds about whether they want that art in the wild, particularly given that it's free. Maybe it's because I utilize the library a lot, but reading a book and then losing access to that book is not a crime against you, it's just a normal thing that happens. If you read something and it means that much to you, there are ways to avoid losing it (download it).

Seeing this particular attitude extend out to "not making your fic available for as many people to read as possible is harming them" is beyond bizarre. If I woke up tomorrow and deleted everything I have ever written, there would still be thousands upon thousands upon thousands of beautiful, emotional, meaningful fics out there for people to read. They would lack for nothing. Would some people be upset? Probably. Would I be hurting them? No, not really.

Sometimes people have negative emotions because of our actions, but that doesn't mean we did anything to them. This is one of those times.

Lastly, this AI and everything else bullshit really has taken a toll on my enthusiasm for posting my work. It's one thing for companies to try to pillage every thought, every word, every stroke of a pen or paintbrush to enrich themselves while actively making the planet an unbearable and inhospitable place to live, it's another when fellow fans are telling you that "Whelp that's just life, what did you expect, give us your content anyway or you're a bad person and if you complain, then I'll be taking my business elsewhere, you sensitive, entitled creative, lol."

[sunnylighter]

I read your ninjago series x movie fic (GiGAU) and I really love it, just recently got back to ninjago and have been searching through ao3 for good fics. Your fic was really good–no–great! I like how you wrote it.

I'm also here to inform you that you've been in a hiatus for a year.

Anyways, got any good ninjago series x movie fics you can recommend? Or any great fics in particular? (Mostly the series x movie fic) I'm pretty desperate ;u;

Yeah, and it will probably be a while yet before I get back to it. I'm burned out on Ninjago right now, but I'll get back to it eventually. It helps I haven't watched a good few of the more recent seasons, so there will be new stuff for me to sink my teeth into when I get back to it.

As for fic Recommendations:

My Dad is Bad but Still Family, by KayHau. This was written by my beta reader, and was a big chunk of what inspired me to write my fics. It's more of a merging of the movie and series, but it is very good. Kay Hau also wrote a series of gift-fics for the Grass is Greener which are canon to the AU, so check her out. Basically, in a mash-up of movie and show canon, what would happen if Lloyd had been raised by his dad, only to find he had a great destiny to fulfill.

Summoning Gone Wrong, by Doctor_Who_Fan85 is a funny take on what would have happened if in season 8 of the show, Harumi summoned Movie Garmadon instead of the undead one from the show. I beta-read this one, and it was fun to do.

That's Ninja Swag (It's Nothing New) by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro). It's a reincarnation fic. A 'What if the Movie Ninja are the reincarnations of the Show Ninja in the far future and start regaining their past memories' fic. I highly recommend it for the feels.

Of course, no series-movie crossover fic is complete without Same People, But Not Really, by @KittyDemon9000. What if Kai got sent to the Movie-verse, and how long would it take him to adopt all the Movie Ninja? It's a really great one, and I can't recommend it enough.

Enter the Ninjaverse by BionicStars. I didn't finish this one, but it's about the return of the Time Twins and Lloyd chasing them across the multi-verse to stop them.

Switched! also by Doctor_Who_Fan85. Another Show Lloyd and Movie Lloyd switcharoo. Poor boys.

Tantamount by Bamboosauce. Using the Tornado of Creation to stop the Oni sends the Show Ninja rocketing into the Movie-verse. There's not much to it, but I enjoy seeing the Movie Ninja freak out about it.

It's Me (Version 2-point-0) by lloydskywalkers. Okay, all the previous ones are on AO3, but this one is on Fanfiction.Net. It is honestly one of my favorites, and what first got me thinking about crossing over the show and the movie in any meaningful way. It's a oneshot that was written before March of the Oni came out, and has the author's imagining of how the oni could be. When one of the Oni come after Show Lloyd and drag him through the multi-verse, he ends up landing on his movie counterpart, and the two work together to avoid their murderous Oni Aunt.

That's all the ones I can find in my Bookmarks list on AO3 and FF. More may have come out since I burned out on Ninjago, so keep your eyes open. I hope you enjoy my recommendations.

[liyawritesss]

ᴅʏɪɴɢ ɢᴇᴋᴋᴏ'ꜱ ʜᴀɪʀ

-> synopsis: gekko's first holiday from being a Valorant Agent has come!upon debriefing with the others, it's accidentally revealed that his favorite hairdresser may be something more...

-> a/n: it is unhealthy how rampant this boy has been on my mind. like, genuinely, he's such a beautiful person and so so sweet, someone help me find where I can buy one !! also i know this isn't really in demand or wtv, but mateo is still my husband and I'll write for him until I physically can't anymore.

-> pairing: mateo armendariz de la fuente // gekko + black!gn!reader

-> join my taglist!

-> contains: pure fluff, like one or two curse words, 2nd person ('you', 'your', 'yours')

-> tags: @badass-dora-milaje @uranometrias @lees-chaotic-brain @jacuzziwaters

• Whenever a holiday is granted in the Protocol, not one person dares to pass it up. It's very rare that they team gets the opportunity to return home and enjoy themselves as human beings. Phoenix heads back to his flat in London for the time being, Raze takes Killjoy to her home in Brazil, Jett and Yoru take a trip to Japan for some well deserved restaurant hopping. While Gekko may not be buddying up with anyone on his holiday home, the agents all know that he's got a particular someone he's going home to.

• Gekko often mentions the hairdresser that does his hair whenever he's back home. He started mentioning them so often, and with so much vigor, admiration and excitement, it didn't take long for some agents catch on that this wasnt just a simple hairdresser (namely Yoru, who could read people like a book, and Sage, who was the first to verbally note the way his eyes lit up when looking on his phone for a text with the person in question, which was often brushed off by the you get as a simple exchange of inspo ideas for his next hairdye job).

• So, safe to say that second he gets the OK, Gekko is speedballing his way back to Cali to see you and catch up on the months apart. He does tell you about his newfound occupation, although he keeps it vague for privacy and protection reasons - despite him not supposed to tell anyone about it in general. He just can't lie to you. You've been with him from the start of this journey after all, and it wouldn't feel right to him to not share this double life he now has with you.

• He lets you know when he touches down, but prepares a bit of a surprise for you for when he pops up on you. Alongside a bag of the necessary gair dying products he's also got a basket of snacks and other little knick knacks he knows you like. It acts as an apology for both being away for so long and that he hasn't kept up with his hair maintenance. He just likes it better when you do it!

• Definitely falls asleep the second your hands get in his head. You could just be raking through the buzzcut or washing him or blow drying him, he knocks out like a light from your touch. You definitely have to wake him up a couple of times throughout the session, because he can and will sleep until the end of it when he doesn't feel your hands anymore.

• Gekko usually let's you do anything you want to do in his head unless he has a specific color request he's been dying to try out. Which leads to a lot of fun designs - including red hearts, varying colored flowers, stars, a variety of prints, and more. He's always amazed at the creativity you have when it comes to trying new things in his hair and he's always down for whatever. He wears them proudly and takes so many pictures of his new dye any chance it seems photogenic.

• Speaking of pictures, Gekko is the type to like those "private but not secret" pictures - he thinks the aesthetic of it is cute and often wants to take them with you. His favorite pose is with a close up on the back of his head with your hands combing through his short hair. Not only does it feel good, but it assures that possessive itch in his brain that whispers "this is mine, but you'll never know c;". Wingman or Dizzy may photobomb a couple of them in good fun - all of Gekko's lil' homies love to see you two happy together!

• Departing back to base is always hard on the both of you. Though you know that ultimately he's safe and with people who will protect him, the miles between you two makes the longing more difficult and seeing him off never gets any easier. He tries to reassure you despite he himself hating having to leave you, giving you promises of a longer visit next time and more stories about his wildest adventures.

• It's usual for the agents - especially the younger ones - to debrief about their holidays when they all return to base. Wild stories and loud laughter echoes throught the common hall as everyone recounts the good times they had. When it's Gekko's turn, he's all too eager to show the pictures of the different styles he's gotten in his time away. Neon's got heart-eyes at all the crazy and intricate designs and Phoenix is trying to bribe the poor boy to give him the number to his stylist, and in the midst of it all, Gekko accidentally swipes too far and what the rest of the agents see makes them go absolutely ballistic.

• Gekko, the cool, suave young agent who can sling a gun with more swagger than an action movie actor, always hyping up his friends and encouraging team work all while being so effortlessly carefree and a total vibe, has a partner! And of course, it shouldn't be that shocking - he's the whole package and the freebies that come with! - but to have it confirmed by the man himself, even if it was on accident, has the other agents on another plane of excitement and intrigue.

• He's bombarded with questions - who are you? Are you the mysterious hairdresser they've heard so much about? How'd you meet? How long have you been together? The list goes on and on and he's just standing there like "shit, how do I get out of this?" He's so flustered at the prospect of talking about you to his friends he can't even get a word out. The commotion brings in the older agents because they're like 'why is it so loud and of course the person to speak loud as hell is Phoenix as he says "My man Gekko's got a secrer little girlfriend back home!" (It's definitely not a secret anymore Phoenix-)

• So safe to say that when he calls you that night, he's got a lot to tell you about how his fellow agents found out about his life outside of the Protocol, and how a bunch of them now want to meet the pretty lady that does the fancy designs on his hair <3

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