#you KNOW there are at least some fans that like him

[6esiree]

Gen Z Things With The Hazbin Men

Just some funny stuff I saw on Instagram. I’ll do one with the women next! Also, writing for Zestial is so hard like, why does he speak like that? 😭

Alastor:

The Dill-Doe Shirt

“Look at what my darling bought me!” Alastor announces excitedly, stretching his shirt so everybody could see, the word ‘Dill-Doe’ in bold below a deer in a pickle. “Ha! Isn’t it hilarious? It’s a doe wearing a dill pickle as a costume!”

“Al, that says Dill-Doe,” Angel says, trying not to laugh. “Do ya know what that is?”

“A what now?” Alastor asks innocently.

“Shut up, Angel!”

Lucifer:

The J in June

“Luci, do you know what the J in June stands for?” You ask Lucifer.

“Oh, I didn’t even know it stood for anything,” Lucifer says. “Well, what is it, honey?”

“The J in June is for the Jiggle in my ass when I walk,” You say, looking over your shoulder as you strut down the hallway.

“I believe you,” Lucifer says, fanning his face as he watches your ass do just that.

“You have no shame!”

Husk:

Spell RUN

“Husk, touch your toes,” You tell Husk, trying to keep a straight face as you discreetly record him.

“Fine, but it better not be somethin’ stupid,” Husk says, bending over and touching his toes.

“Okay, now spell ‘Run’ three times.”

“R-U-N, R-U-N, R-U—“ Husk realizes, his eyes widening as you start laughing while you hold up your phone. “Wait a fuckin’ minute.”

“HA! You’re asking if it’s in your—“ You start, but then he tackles you to the ground, shattering your phone.

Vox:

Can I Hold It While You Pee?

“I’m going to the restroom,” Vox announces as he stands up from the couch.

“Wait, let me come with you!” You say, following behind him.

“What, why would you want to do that?” Vox stutters as he turns around, a horrified look on his face.

“Can I hold it while you pee?” You ask, but he shakes his head as he backs up from you, accidentally cornering himself.

“At least let me tie a bow on it!”

“Stay away from me!” Vox says before teleporting out of the room, leaving you pouting.

Adam:

Throw Cheeks, Bbg

“Throw cheeks, babygirl,” You tell Adam as you walk into the room.

He instantly turns his backside away from you, covering his ass with his wings.

“NO! I’M NOT THROWING CHEEKS,” Adam yells, folding his arms and shaking his head. “I DON’T WANNA!”

Angel Dust:

Impregnating A Man

“Ya eva’ love ya man so much ya just wish ya were seahorses?” Angel sighs as he looks at you, but you’re too busy scrolling on your phone to notice. “Ta get him pregnant, I mean.”

“Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” You tell him.

“Huh, yeah, ya right!” Angel says, grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “Wanna try, sweetcheeks?”

“Oh no, I forgot that was me.”

Sir Pentious:

The BBL

“Hey, Pentious!” You greet the serpent, an innocent smile on your face. “Can I give you a BBL?”

“A BBL? What isss that?” Sir Pentious asks you, confused. “If it’s nothing bad, perhaps I could allow you to—“ He continues sheepishly.

“DON’T SAY YES, THEY BOTCHED MINE!” Angel screeches, barging into the room, two small pillows falling from his skirt.

“Wait, Pentious, DON’T GO!” You whine as you watch him slither away in fear.

Valentino:

I Don’t Take In Strays

“What’s your address?” Valentino texts you. You only gave him your number so he could leave you alone. “I’m spending the night.”

“4351 Pasadena Ave,” You text back.

“That’s the animal shelter?”

“Yeah, they take in strays. Not me, goodnight.”

Saint Peter:

When Did I Ask?

“So, uh, Emily was telling me about this new restaurant that opened up,” Saint Peter starts, nervously wringing his hands together. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go?”

“When?” You asked, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, well, how does Friday—“

“Did I ask?”

Saint Peter’s face drops, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, losing whatever confidence he had built up to ask you out.

“Oh my God, you poor baby! I’m so, so sorry, I have no self control,” You said, rushing to him and holding his face in your hands, a relieved sigh escaping his throat as you litter him with kisses. “Yes! I’ll go out with you, a million times yes!”

Zestial:

Mike Who Cheese Hairy

“Good morning, sweetness,” Zestial says, leaning down to look at your shirt when you approach him. “Oh? What art thee wearing today?“

He squints as you stretch it, four words in bold staring back at him: Mike, Who, Cheese, and Hairy. Carmilla’s daughters are trying not to laugh.

“Repeat it and you’ll find out,” You say, a wicked smile on your face.

“Mike…Who…Cheese…Hairy,” Zestial says out loud, still confused. “I don’t understand?”

“Who said ‘My coochie is hairy?’” Carmilla asks as she walks into the room.

“Zestial!” You burst out laughing, but then she throttles you, leaving the older man horrified.

[joeshiestyslover]

first sight- c. sturniolo

pairing: chris sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: you are an influencer who first gained traction on youtube for your makeup videos and daily vlogs. you and tara have been best friends since you two collaborated over a year ago. she invites you to her 1 mil party where you meet a very special triplet.

warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fluff

masterlist

lowercase intended

parties were never really your thing. sure, parties are apart of the influence lifestyle, but you never found yourself desiring to go to a party, get drunk, and stay out until three a.m. however your best friend, tara, is the complete opposite. she loves going to and throwing parties. every time, she tries to drag you with her, but most times, you just stay at home, either making content for your fans or simply lying in bed.

recently, she hit one million subscribes on her youtube channel and she immediately began planning a huge party that she wanted filled to the brim with friends and other influencers. the first person she invited was you. you were hesitant at first, but knowing how important this was to her, you agreed.

“come on, y/n, you have to go! it’s not like there’ll be random people there. larray’s gonna be there, jake and johnnie will be there. just please come, or at least consider it.” tara begs you. you sigh, knowing that she really wants you there. “okay i’ll go, but i may not stay for very long.” she immediately grins from ear to ear. “thank you!” she pulls you in for a hug, “you’ll have so much fun i promise.” you laugh at her excitement. “yeah, yeah, i’m sure.” you respond playfully.

a few weeks pass and it’s the night of the party. tara helped you pick out a sparkly minidress that shows off the tattoos littering your arms and some heels. you have to admit, you look good. the way your makeup accentuates your features and the way your outfit clings to your body makes you feel untouchable.

tara walks out of her bathroom after she finishes changing and looks you up and down, a huge smile on her face. “oh my god you look so good!” you return her smile, “you ready to go?” you ask her and she nods. “let’s go!” she interlocks her arm with yours and you two walk out of her apartment towards a limousine waiting outside. “there’s no fucking way you got a limo” you laugh, loving the effort your best friend put into the party. “of course i did! we need to arrive with some style.” she responds, leading you to the back of the large vehicle.

you both slide in and see champagne and some chocolates in front of you. tara grabs the bottle and opens it, pouring the drink into two glasses, holding one out to you. you accept it and tara holds out her flute, tapping it against yours before the both of you take a drink. music is softly playing in the limo as you two drink your champagne and laugh about random things.

you and tara arrive at the party where there are already a ton of people inside. the music is blasting through the speakers and the moment tara walks in, people begin to cheer after seeing the guest of honor. tara grabs your hand and begins leading you somewhere. “let’s get a drink!” she yells over the music. you two go over to the bar where you order a tequila shot to loosen you up and a modelo with lime. you throw the shot back and grab the modelo, squeezing the lime into it. you look around and see another one of your good friends, larray. you turn to tara, “i’m gonna go mingle. i’ll catch up with you in a bit.” she simply nods and you walk over to larray, tapping him on the shoulder. he turns around and his face lights up when he sees you. “hey y/n!” he brings you in for a hug, “i’m surprised you’re here!” he smiles at you. “me too, but it’s a tara yummy party, so i just had to go.” larray laughs at that, “well i’m so glad you came!” you both engage in conversation, talking about everything that’s going on in both your lives (and talking some shit about people you both hate).

tara’s talking with a few of her friends when she sees chris and nick sturniolo walking in. she excuses herself from the conversation and walks over to the two boys. “you made it!” she hugs them both. “of course we did! we wouldn’t miss this for the world!” nick replies and chris smiles, scanning the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. “well, have fun and enjoy yourselves! there’s a lot of cool people here!” her face then lights up. “in fact, there’s someone i want you two to meet! she’s so fucking cool! come on i’ll find her!” she walks through the large crowd with chris and nick trailing behind her. tara spots you with your back turned to her, talking to larray. “oh there she is!” she points to you and chris immediately takes notice to your dress and your large back tattoo peeking out the top of the dress. “y/n!” she yells towards you.

you hear your name being called, so you turn around, being met with a smiling tara and two guys who look the same. you return her smile and walk over to her and she throws her arm around your shoulders. “what’s up?” you ask. “i want you to meet a couple of my friends! this is chris and nick sturniolo!” you look up at them and stick your hand out for them to shake. “hi i’m y/n.” nick is the first to shake your hand before moving your hand in front of chris. he takes your hand and shakes it gently, and you swear you can feel a sort of electricity run through your body at his touch.

chris on the other hand, is absolutely entranced by you. he swears he has never seen such a perfect human being in his life. the way your hair perfectly frames your facial features and the way your dress perfectly fits your body, you’re perfect in his eyes. he soon realizes he’s staring, and he snaps back to reality and the only thing he can get out of his mouth is: “nice to meet you.” you give him a smile in return. “i’ve seen some of your youtube videos,” nick speaks up, “you’re so funny.” you giggle at his compliment. “thank you. i try.”

while you’re talking to the two boys, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off chris. he’s one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. he’s exactly your type, brown shaggy hair, blue eyes, not too tall but definitely taller than you. he just looks so perfect.

as you’re all talking, tara notices that chris’ gaze never leaves you. she smirks and turns to nick, “hey, can you come with me to grab a drink?” he shrugs, “sure.” tara and nick walk away, leaving you and chris alone. both of you stay silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. you rock back and forth on your heels before chris finally says something, “i umm, i like your tattoos.” you lift your arms slightly, “thank you.” you blush a little, a small smile forming on your face. “i’m sorry i don’t usually talk this little. parties aren’t really my thing.” you say, but chris shakes his head. “no i get it. tara mentioned you’re not a party person.” you nod, “yeah i’m not. so you’re a youtuber as well right? with your brothers?” you try to make conversation. “yeah, it’s me, nick, and our other brother, matt” he replies. “and where is matt tonight?” “he’s back home. he’s not a party person either.” you nod in understanding. “i think i’ve seen some clips of your youtube on my for you page. nick was right, you are really funny.” chris smiles at you. “thank you, chris.” you can feel the heat rising up to your cheeks.

chris stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say. “i’m sorry i just have to tell you, you’re really pretty. like really pretty.” your eyes widen a little at how forward he’s being, but you smile at him nevertheless. “you’re so sweet chris. you’re really cute too.” you can see a blush forming on his cheeks as he looks down at the floor for a moment. he looks back up at you to say something but he’s interrupted by sam and colby calling out both your names. you look over and see the two of them walking over to you, colby immediately bringing you in for a quick hug while same daps up chris, them engaging in their own conversation. “hey y/n! how are you?” “i’m great! how’s the ghost hunting going?” you ask, smiling up at him. colby chuckles, “oh, y’know, same old, same old. you should come explore a haunted place with us some day.” you wince. you don’t do ghosts. “i don’t know about that colbs.” “oh come on, it’s so fun. just give it a chance.” you sigh, “i’ll think about it.” he nods, “i’ll accept that answer. hey, i’m gonna go make some rounds, but i’ll see you later, yeah?” “yeah of course! see ya.” he smiles and walks away with sam into the crowd.

you turn back to chris. “sorry, what were you saying?” he looks back at you. “i wanted to know if i could maybe get your number? we could go out sometime?” he asks nervously, fiddling with his fingers a bit. you grin, “i would love that chris.” he smiles and takes out his phone to hand it to you. you quickly type your number into his phone, handing it back to him. you two talk for a bit before tara and nick make their way back over to the two of you. “how are you guys doing over here?” she asks with a knowing look on her face. “we’re doing great.” chris tells her, smiling over at you. “well, i’m glad. y/n we should go find jake and johnnie. they’ve been asking about you” you nod and motion for her to lead the way, but before you go, you turn over to chris and nick, “it was nice meeting you guys,” you look at the younger triplet, “and text me sometime.” tara then leads you away from the two guys, navigating your way through the large crowd.

nick looks at chris, “so i’m assuming you shot your shot with her? after talking about her for weeks?” nick smiles at his younger brother. “yeah i did.” he smiles proudly, thanking the universe for giving him the chance to talk to you.

you and tara are walking through the crowd when she asks you: “so it went well with chris?” you nod, “yeah it did.” you blush a little at the thought of him. “i’m glad.” you raise an eyebrow, “you planned that didn’t you?” “sure did.”

a/n: def gonna make a part 2 to this

tags: @sassysturniolo2008 @chrissypook

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question born of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[grimm-writings]

OH SHIT I BETTER SEND THIS IN QUICK uhhh can i get some dr. ratio or screwllum cuddling/general fluff? im very tired and i think that could fix me

- i think you know who this is 💜

warmth

…ft! dr. ratio, screwllum x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, lotsa snuggling!!!!, non sexual nudity (ratio)

…wc! 323; 412; = 735

…notes! MY FRIEND I KNOW YOU!!!! ❣️ty for the request here it is!!! small and cute <3 also!! give it up for the new character banners!!! lmk if you liiiike <3

Veritas Ratio

“Care to join me?”

Veritas’s voice reaches your ears.  You glance up at him, his figure relaxed in his bathtub through the bathroom door.  His head is thrown back to look back at you.

“Sorry?” You clarify, folding a book closed over your thumb.

“You’re exhausted, evidently, seeing as how you haven’t moved on from that page in a number of minutes.”

Your face flushes in embarrassment.  Nothing can get past your lover’s keen observations.

No use in arguing, you rationalise that Veritas has a point (like always).  You slip off your clothes and join him in the bathtub.  His hands land on your shoulders and rub down reassuringly.  He’s welcoming you to relax – surprisingly tender, gentle.

As he rubs in some body wash, Veritas’s voice sinks you further into relaxation; “care to explain why you’ve been neglecting your rest?”

“It’s not like I’ve been wanting to,” you reply.

“That doesn’t answer my query, love.”

You sigh as you feel Veritas kiss the top of your head.  You explain everything – your stresses as of late, and the overwhelming urge to just sleep forever.  You’re so tired.

He hums in thought, violet hair falling in front of coral eyes.  Oddly unmanaged in such an intimate place.  “We can figure out some ways to rectify that later.  For now, allow me to take care of you.  Is that alright?”

A small giggle slips from your lips – Veritas is always asking permission.  If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t be so soothing.  It’s nice to know that you were special in that way.  A warmth teasing to consume you whole as Veritas washes and rinses you down.

Yes, and it shall continue to grow as you are entangled in sheets later, his strong arms wrapped around your body.  Rest.  What was once unfamiliar becomes so easy with Veritas helping you.

You are inclined to believe that you had the best sleep of your life that night.

Screwllum

“Would I really be all that comfortable?”

“Oh shush, you’re plenty comfortable.”

Screwllum sighs (or at least makes a similar sound to one) at your refusal to accept that he might not be the greatest snuggle partner in the world.  It’s no secret that he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word, but something like cuddling…

You can’t say he doesn’t try, resting your head on your chest and a hand in your hair.  He pets you softly as another arm is lazily resting over your back.  This way you wouldn’t really feel any metal underneath the layers of clothes.

“I hope you realise that I can feel how tense you are,” you hum from buried into the ruffles of Screwllum’s shirt.

“A-Apologies, I’m trying my best—”

“Are you nervous?”

As soon as you bring up the question, Screwllum’s already blank face seems to somehow blank more.  Even if he is inexpressive, the message speaks volumes.

Fans whir louder in the silence.

You can’t help but burst into giggles.  “I can’t believe it!  All ready to fluster me with hand kisses and whatnot, but you fall apart as soon as we lay together!”

Screwllum stutters, trying to find some way to acquire his dignity back.  “I just wish to please you… I’m not exactly the most popular choice for a romantic partner…”

“But you’re my choice,” you shoot back, leaning up to place a kiss on Screwllum’s face plate, the one where a mouth normally would be.  The fans only prove a traitor to Screwllum as they whir louder.

The genius can only silently accept his fate as you smother him with kisses all over his metal encasing.  “Dare I ask—” he’s cut off by one of your many mwahs!  “Why do you torture me so…?”

You lean back, resting your chin on Screwllum’s chest again with a satisfied grin.

“When you get all shy, you get toastier.”  You snuggle closer into a hug.  “This is why you’re the best cuddler – you warm me up!”

Screwllum doesn’t react at first save for the heat dispelling from his body.  Then dignified yet comfortable laughter slips through.  You feel something land on the top of your head.  You look up to see that your lover has placed his hat on your head and is ruffling your hair through it.

“Whatever will I do with you…?”  He asks aloud.

“Snuggle me, maybe.”  You cheekily grin.

Screwllum hums.  “Well, suppose I’ll just have to comply.”

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

Httpsserene’s 2K Special - The Danny Ric Edition

Episode Five: TSA

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of.

Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably.

Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

[presidentcarterr]

ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ “ the kind of man you can’t refuse ” !

how i think rafe would deal with his cute lil gf getting too close with a pogue !

mentions: oral (f receiving), fingering, actual slut shaming, hypothetical slut shaming?, overstimulation, reader’s race is not defined, gullible!reader, reader’s got a fucked up home life, and ofc, a very toxic rafe cameron🫶🏼

ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

— we all know rafe doesn’t like to share, but that increases tenfold when his girlfriend is involved!

— rafe had spent months molding you into the perfect kook princess; polished manners, elegant makeup and dresses, and of course, complete obedience.

— however, he would begrudgingly allow the shallow compliments towards you from the fellow girls in his inner circle, and god forbid someone like topper or kelce even breathed near you.

— his biggest rule pertaining to friends was no pogues! since his sister had willingly gone off with those disgusting humans, rafe cameron refused to let anyone he deemed important get too close for comfort with a pogue.

— kiara, in an effort to make peace with her parents, began hanging around the country club again, and you thought she was the perfect person to make friends with!

— while rafe was off on the golf course, you lounged around the patio with some other kook girls, when your curious eyes land on kie.

— she’s by her lonesome, (a feat the other girls whispered about,) sipping her lemonade and internally wishing for an asteroid to hit Earth.

— one of the reasons why rafe picked you out of all the eligible girls was because of your kind heart! sure, it got annoying really fucking fast, but it also made you that much more willing to get on your knees!

— so, you picked yourself up from your chair and sauntered over to kiara. your introduction is adorable albeit a bit scatterbrained, and kiara has to stop herself from smiling.

— everyone knew rafe liked easy things, and you were just that, but… there was something about you that made kiara feel at ease. you complimented her muddied shoes, ignoring the obvious gawking from your abandoned group of friends and continued a conversation.

— “i dunno if she’s your style, but i really liked sabrina’s new song! she’s so pretty and her voice is amazing!” “don’t get me wrong, ‘m more of a marley fan, but she’s hot and she can sing. that’s a double whammy right there.”

— you, for one, were incredibly proud of yourself. was making nice with a pogue against rafey’s rules? of course it was, but kiara was a self-proclaimed pogue, so it wasn’t that bad! at least not in your pretty eyes…

— unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend learned about your efforts to include kiara as soon as they happened. now, rafe was smart enough to know that the girls who sent him snaps of you and kie talking were just doing so in hopes he’d break up with you, but that wasn’t his plan.

— initially, he was furious. he considered himself to be a proactive man; why couldn’t you listen and let him do all the work? but, rafe shot a few more holes and he simmered.

— if he were to break up with you, every guy on the island would be too scared to even think about trying anything with you, and any girl wouldn’t want to associate themselves with rafe cameron’s former whore. he wouldn’t dare do that to such a sweet girl like you, so rafe came up with a solution he thought would be fair to both parties.

— after a long round of drinks and munchies at the club, rafe was finally dragging you home for some much needed rest! you hadn’t mentioned your conversation with kie simply because your boyfriend was in a rare mood in which he didn’t look positively murderous, so you were content to gaze out the window and swing your legs.

— “rafey… could you run me a bath? pretty please? i’ve been really good today!” you simpered out, laying flat on your stomach in his bed.

— rafe stops himself from laughing at your words, nodding along and placing a kiss to your forehead. if only you knew what you were in for…

— the man ran you a bath, taking his time to pour in your favorite bath salt and greeted you with a warm towel once you were all done.

— he’d left you to your own devices whilst he showered off the sweat from today, which allowed you to text kiara.

— you decided to swap numbers before leaving, unaware that your boyfriend was already in the know about this clandestine friendship.

— rafe exits his bathroom, black boxers clinging to his lean hips as his blue eyes fall on you. you’re curled up in his bed, clad in his shirt and a pair of panties, occupied on your phone.

— “you tell kie about your bath tonight? i bet she’s real surprised that i treat you so good.”

— hearing the syllable fall from your boyfriend’s lips caused you to freeze, while rafe’s unwavering gaze glared into you.

— he can tell you’re getting nervous, with your trembling hands and how your eyes immediately begin to avoid his own.

— rafe rounds the bed and takes your face in his hands. “why you gettin’ shy on me, baby? weren’t so shy when you used my card to get you n’ that dirty pogue fuckin’ mimosas, huh? did you think i wasn’t gonna find out? those little whores you hang out with videoed it as soon as you walked your sweet ass over to her.”

— you want to whimper out an excuse; the same one you’d repeated to yourself earlier in attempts to calm rafe down. but, you know better. and that’s what makes it so bad.

— you glance up at your boyfriend, “i’m sorry. i know it’s all my fault.”

— his strong hands drop your face, while rafe bit at his lip and sighed heavily.

— rafe always found it difficult to be strict with you when you were so indulgent in the idea of things being your fault. another reason why he’d taken you in under his wing, you were from a broken home. however, he knew girls like you craved the punishment at the same time, so rafe used that as his crutch to stay strong.

— “go ahead and take your panties off, angel. ‘m gonna have to remind you how shit works around here. got it?”

— you waste no time in removing your underwear, flinging off your shirt in the process just in case your boyfriend changed his mind.

— he settles on his knees at the foot of his bed, while you scoot to be in front of rafe and you allow your legs to spread.

— rafe pinched at your clit, reveling in how he’d trained you to not make a noise when he did it. “such a pretty thing… i always hate when i have to treat this pussy so bad, but you make me do it, don’t you? you like being treated like a dirty slut?”

— you whined out a pathetic ‘yes,’ and rafe didn’t spare any time before he dove into your pussy.

— the rules of his game were simple. he’d do whatever he could to turn you on; spell his name with his tongue, force your hips onto the bridge of his nose, moan and groan about your taste… then, as soon as you drifted too close to the edge, rafe would stop. and he’d continue until he felt as if you learned your lesson.

— it was a game you had yet to master, and you were certain that he’d always find a way to win even if you had strengthened.

— the way rafe eats you out is… disgusting.

— he gnashes and slurps at you, trimmed nails digging into the meat of your thighs.

— “y’hear how wet she is? she’s drippin’ for me, baby girl… wish this coulda been a reward, not a punishment.”

— “taste so good, angel. dunno how a slut like you can taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

— if rafe felt as if you were holding back, he’d pull back and slip in a finger or two, scissoring them until you start to babble incoherently.

— “you wish it was my dick, huh? too fuckin’ bad, you dumb bitch. you’re not gonna get my dick anytime soon…”

— his jaded words only cause you to grow wetter, and you can feel yourself growing closer to an orgasm. but, rafe knows your body better than you do, and he immediately stops the assault on your clit and you stagger softly.

— once again, you know better than to complain about the unfairness of it all, and you murmur a tearful ‘thank you’ to rafe.

— the process repeats and repeats until you’re in a daze, eyes rolling back like a baby doll and you can feel your abs clenching from all the tension coiled up inside you.

— rafe told topper and kelce once that he could spend days eating your pussy, and that proved to be true for situations like these. he pulls away, a string of his saliva and your wetness forming and you almost look away from your boyfriend in shame.

— a hand goes to your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. the iciness that had been present is lost, and you can only see warmth inside them now.

— “you know why you’re in trouble?” “because i went behind your back and started talkin’ with a pogue. and i didn’t plan on telling you about it. and i spent your money without asking.”

— the answer seems robotic, but only rafe noticed. he knows he can be a little intense when the issue pertains to pogues, but rafe only wants what’s best and safest for you! pogues only brought unnecessary drama and chaos.

— his swollen lips tug into a half-smile, “good girl. promise i’m gonna make you cum, and then we can go to bed, okay? sound good?”

— you nod eagerly, and at this point, you’re unsure if you really want to cum or you really want to sleep.

— either way, rafe dives back into your cunt, licking and sucking at a gentle pace and whispering praises into your inner thigh.

— “my good girl… you take your punishments so well…”

— “sweet thing, you’re all puffy. ‘s okay, rafey’s gonna take care of it.”

— “swear i’m gonna marry this pussy…”

— soon enough, the coil inside you snaps, and you’re finally allowed to orgasm. it takes a while to ride out, and by the end, you feel like you’re made of jello.

— the rare side of rafe takes control, and you’re cognitive enough to feel him kiss at your temples and then drape a shirt over you. then, you can feel a damp cloth run against your cunt, sweeping across your thighs before you’re tucked in bed.

— rafe cradled you to his bare chest, while ignoring his throbbing boner and kisses at your hairline.

— “you gonna shack up with any other pogues?” “no, rafey. ‘m done with them. i’ll delete kie’s number and everything.”

— speaking of kiara, you’d been in the middle of an important conversation regarding who was the best character on gossip girl before being sucked in by rafe, and kiara was positive you’d died after not receiving a text within fifteen minutes!

ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

inspired by my first asks EVER!!! @sexyxdylanxobrien @rafespinkbows !!! pls enjoy my lovelies😝😝

[mattslolita]

Can you do Matt angst ?

M

the greatest - m. sturniolo

in which ... you realize your boyfriend has fallen out of love with you, causing you to break down. boyfriend!matt x black!fem!reader

warnings ; mentions of alcohol, fighting, crying, angst, not a happy ending

"𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒐."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

things were amazing when you first started dating matt.

of course, in the beginning not all of the fans were so accepting of your relationship, some even making it known but after getting clocked by other fans, the hate comments and death threats to you calmed down.

matt seemed happier in the beginning — he was happy to flaunt you, never skipping the opportunity to show his affection for you or show how much he loved you. the amount of times nick and chris used to complain about how you both were practically attached to the hip and how matt would hog you, was insane.

but things were different these last few months.

matt had grown distant with you — the same way you had been inseparable in the beginning, it was now lacking. he stopped inviting you over to hang out, as well as reaching out to you to hang out. you understood youtube was a job that demanded a lot of his time, so you tried to brush it off.

but when he started lying about places he'd be at or was going to, you knew something was wrong — did matt find you too controlling? maybe that's why he felt it necessary to do those things. you wanted to talk to him about it, to fix things.

then matt stopped making love to you. now, you get that because of the stress with work he wasn't always in the mood, so you completely understood that. but even nights when you both were free and he either decided to go out without you or just not touch you at all? there was definitely a problem.

a lot of fans had even speculated the growing distance between you and matt. whenever you went live, you tried your best to ignore comments on it, always seeing things like, "how are you and matt?", "is it true you and matt will breakup?", "do you still love matt?".

you loved matt, and you still do without a doubt. but you definitely questioned if he still loved you.

you knew things were inevitably different once you started spending your night alone, or with nick and chris instead of with matt. or when matt ignored your presence entirely, opting to either go up to his room alone or spend the night elsewhere.

sadly you can count on more than two hands the amount of days and nights you cried in nick or chris's arms about your dying relationship with the man you loved. the man you thought you saw a future with.

which led you to were you currently are right now, on the dance floor of some random influencer party — you had come with matt, chris, and nick, but of course, matt had gone off somewhere without even letting you know where he was headed to.

nick offered to stay with you, but there was no way you would have him babysit you whilst you sulked in some corner since your boyfriend decided not to hang out you.

you didn't even realized how many drinks you had really downed until you caught yourself stumbling as you threw yet another red solo cup in the trash. your eyes felt bleary as they scanned the scenery around you, everyone seemingly having the best time ever whilst you felt miserable.

it wasn't until your eyes landed on a familiar set of brown locs that you ran the back of your hand across your eyes as they settled on matt — he was impossibly closer to another brunette girl, she was leaning daintily on his shoulder whilst he whispered sweet nothings into her ear causing her to giggle.

you don't know where the sudden burst of anger came from ( it had to be the alcohol ), but now at least you knew why matt was so distant with you.

your feet moved before your mind even registered it, leading you storming into the direction matt and the girl he was with — your eyes were stinging with tears threatening to spill as you bumped her shoulder harshly, sending her tumbling backwards.

"y/n, what the fuck's wrong with you?" matt hisses at you, grabbing your shoulder harshly.

you look at him is disbelief, scoffing. "what's wrong with me? how the fuck can you ask me that, matthew?"

you never called matt his full name. it always matt, unless you were trying to be funny you called him by his middle name — but your anger was clouding your judgement, and it was almost as if it was a wake up call to matt too, because he furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

"what's your problem, bitch?" the brunette girl hissed at you, regaining her balance as she walked towards you.

"you," you spit towards her, taking a step until you're right in front of her, "all up on my fucking boyfriend."

she shakes her head and laughs at this, giving you a mock look of pity. "well he certainly didn't mention you, now did he?"

a lump forms in your throat at this — multiple people have stopped partying as they were watching the scene in front of them. embarrassment and hurt blossomed in your chest as you fought the tears threatening to escape — you turned to matt with an incredulous expression, biting the inside of your cheek.

"didn't tell her, huh?" you say icily, your voice barely above a whisper. a sarcastic laugh leaves your lips as you brush past matt harshly.

you needed to leave — you didn't know where you were going, all you knew was that you felt suffocated and you needed to get out of that party. matt's voice rang out after you, but you didn't bother to stop walking. your feet were getting tired from with the speed you walked, but the adrenaline made you push forward.

"y/n, can you please slow the fuck down!" matt's voice was clear now, as he'd caught up to you.

your blood pumped in your ears as hot, angry tears spilled forth from your eyes as you refused to turn around and look at him. but you stopped walking — the breeze from the cool, night air would've felt nice, comforting even, if it weren't for the current circumstances.

"turn around, y/n," matt tells you.

you turn slowly, as the man you once called the love of your life takes slow strides until he reaches you. your eyes dart over all the features you used to once adore, but now you felt sick looking at him.

"why do you keep lying to me, matt?" your voice trembles, and he chews the inside of his lip guiltily. "it's evident, at this point. everyone can see you don't want to be with me anymore."

"i didn't know how to tell you without hurting you," matt admits, finally looking at you. his expression is a mix of guilt and pity, and you hate it.

"you understand lying to me and making me feel like a fucking fool hurts worse?" you tell him, looking into his blue irises.

"it's hard y/n, okay?" matt swallows, running a hand through his hair, "breaking your heart was the last thing i wanted to do."

"a little too late for that," you laugh sarcastically, shaking your head as you bite the inside of your cheek.

"i don't know what you expect me to say," matt says quietly, looking anywhere but you.

"what did i do," you ask shakily, wiping away the tears from your eyes.

"what do you mean?" matt retorts, his eyebrows furrowing as he scans your face.

"what did i do to make you not love me anymore?"

your question caught him off guard and truthfully? he didn't have an answer. all he knew was that he no longer felt the chemistry between you both. those same warm, fuzzy feelings he once felt in the beginning of your relationship, the spark, it fizzled out a long time ago.

"you didn't do anything," matt answers softly, and you can hear the truth in his voice, "i just don't love you anymore."

you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest, and you felt as if it'd jump out — the truth hurt. alot. but he had finally been honest with you after all these months. there was nothing you could do to reverse the way matt felt about you and quite frankly? you were done trying.

tears are re-built in your waterline, and you nod your head at this, scoffing bitterly. you look down at the m necklace that adorned your neck, before you yanked if off, not caring if it hurt or not.

matt watches you with a somber expression, when you motion for him to hold his hand out — you drop the necklace into his hand then close his fingers around it, patting his knuckles as the tears slipped from your eyes.

"sorry i wasn't good enough for you," you tell him bitterly, "maybe that girl in there could be, yeah?"

without waiting for a response from him, you turn on your heels once again and start your journey walking towards wherever, not having a set destination.

at the time you had clearly forgotten that nick and chris were at the party too — chris saw the whole thing unfold before his eyes, and he watched your heart shattering expression when the girl told you matt didn't mention his girlfriend. you.

and it angered chris to his core. matt didn't even realize how amazing you were — the way you loved, how you cared for those around you, matt truly had taken you for granite.

if it was up to chris, he would've done anything in his power to make you realize you deserved so much better than his brother.

lil 💌

when i tell y'all i had this hoe BREWINGG ! anyhow stay tuned for a possible part two ? w chris ? 😳 love y'all & hoped you enjoyed <3

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @inkyray

[yournightmary]

Loser!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU

AN:: first time writing, literally scared shitless🔥 english isn’t my native language🙏

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who made a pasta recipe once (probably from instagram reels), and became a self-appointed master chef. Forgot about the fact that it took her 3 tries to even cook the pasta.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who can’t stop saying flavor instead of scent. She just genuinely doesn’t see the difference.

“What flavor do you want?” she asks you while holding up two colorful packs of wax melts. She bought a wax burner and used it to melt chocolate so she can have chocolate covered fruit anytime she wants. Used it 2 times total.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who vapes. I’m sorry but that’s the truth. She just loves to puff on her cute little mixed berries disposable. Also, keeps saying she can quit anytime she wants, she can’t.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who uses axe body spray. If someone asks about it she just says it works better, but she actually likes the scent. Kind of her guilty pleasure.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who hated on the sims franchise her whole life only to find out you’re a fan. She pirated the whole series (DLCs and all) off of some russian website in one night. Got like 20 different viruses but at least her girl could play the sims 2 happily.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is terrible at foreign languages yet has a duolingo streak that over 500 days. She knows how to say ‘the apple is red’ in german and can barely pronounce her order in mexican restaurants.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is chronically online. Constantly posting shit to her insta stories, sending you tik toks 24/7 and all that stuff. One time she got so invested in a facebook group drama that she didn’t reply to your texts for the whole day.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who wears the most unfunny-funny shirts you can imagine. Stuff like ‘women want me, fish fear me’ and ‘eat, sleep, game, repeat’. And they’re always either way too big or way too small.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who always said she doesn’t want any pets, that it’s too much of a commitment for her… Then she found the ugliest kitten she’s ever seen on the street and took it home without thinking. Let you choose the name but calls him ‘stinky’ no matter what. Like mother, like daughter.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who couldn’t tie her shoes until she was 15. That’s it.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is so lovestruck for you that I can’t even explain it. She’ll always do the cheesiest things possible, like standing before your house with roses, a bluetooth speaker and a promposal poster or bringing you every little thing she found on her walk that ‘reminded her of you’.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who doesn’t like to go out on dates. She’d rather stay at home with you, watch a movie, make dinner together (you’ll be the only one actually cooking), maybe paint something or just spend time together doing nothing… Would really enjoy a date at the planetarium though.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is a total yapper. Can and will talk about anything and everything for hours on end. And if you mention an interest of hers? Oh god, get ready to see a powerpoint presentation about it. Literally the definition of ‘☝️🤓’ but in a good way.

I’m so scared to post this it’s not even funny☠️ Hope you liked it <3

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Okay, Naruto fans. Please explain how the one character that keeps sweeping in your polls has pathetic wet dog energy, and I'm talking about Kakashi. Now, I must confess the only episode of Naruto I watched was Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura trying to steal bells from Kakashi. They managed to steal the bells only because Naruto stole his book and read the last few pages, which it was heavily insinuated that the book was erotica and spoiled the ending for Kakashi, and he had a full-on meltdown. So again, pathetic wet dog energy. Is it the mask, and you guys find him all mysterious or something? Or is he actually competent at his job, and I just got a bad episode? I would like to know because he's on the same level as Gojo with me. It's just like a generic anime white-haired dude. So, I would genuinely like to understand why you guys love him so much

Defend Your Blurbo #5

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans.

Most of you should at least have some idea who Kakashi is. I know there are many opinions about my various photo choices because I've gone through several. After all, people keep sending me different ones.

But I think the anon is forgetting about the scar and the red Sharingan eye which I think a lot of people find attractive

So, Naruto fandom defend your blorbo

[aflairforthedramattic]

bedless - chris sturniolo

summary: your mental state is getting worse but chris is there for you.

warnings: mental health struggles. so angst. hurt and comfort. that’s it.

it was silent throughout your apartment. the only noise heard was the soft white noise emanating from your ceiling fan.

you were exhausted. mentally, physically, and emotionally. you don’t remember when you started to feel this way. maybe it’s when you subconsciously decided to stop taking your antidepressants. you don’t know why you stopped; you just forgot to take them one day and never retook them. they were working, though, and maybe some part of you was scared, so you stopped.

you tried to hide it from them, chris and his brothers, and you were doing a good job. from forced smiles to light-hearted conversations and engaging in fun hangouts, you perfected the routine. masking yourself and pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not, your whole world felt like it was crashing and falling apart.

it’s been three days since you last saw or spoken to chris. you knew he had tried to contact you since, but you couldn’t find it in you to respond. so now you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, listening to it hum.

you eventually got up from your spot in bed and relocated to the shower. you hadn’t even bothered to remove your clothes and just stepped in. the water was freezing, practically inducing hypothermia if you stayed in too long, but you couldn’t care less. at least it made you feel something. so you sat on the shower floor, knees to your chest, as you let the water consume you.

chris became worried about you. he messaged and called you multiple times tonight, and all left unanswered. the thought of something terrible happening to you, eating him alive. what if you had gotten kidnapped? or have gotten into an accident of sorts? or even been brutally murdered? his active imagination was running wild now. he had to make sure you were okay.

after forcing matt to drive him to your place. he made his way up your apartment complex and to your door, entering the code on the keypad and unlocking it. as he stepped in, he noticed the disarray your apartment was in. dishes piled up in the sink, trash scattered about your place, and laundry, dirty and clean, piled on the couch. this was so unlike you. he dismissed it, though, and made his way towards your room, knocking at the door before letting himself in.

hoping to find you in bed asleep, he was met with disappointment as you were nowhere to be found. it quickly faded as he heard the shower running and saw the light emitting through the cracks of the bathroom door, indicating that you were in there.

assuming you were showering, he sat on the bed and waited for you to come out. half an hour passed, and you never did.

feeling anxious again, chris went to the bathroom door and spoke.

“ma? you alright in there?” he questioned.

no response.

that was enough to have his heart race. testing, he twisted the knob of the bathroom door, and when it showed zero resistance, he pushed it open.

the sight was heartbreaking. there you were, fully clothed, in the shower, soaked. chris let out a shaky breath and made his way toward you, shutting off the shower and pulling you out, not caring if he got wet in the process.

“shit, you’re freezing.” chris blurt out.

he immediately started stripping you of your damp clothes, and you stood, allowing him. finding fresh clothes to put you in, chris dressed you and led you back into the bedroom. no words were uttered the entire time.

you felt so weak. chris wasn’t supposed to see you like this. he wasn’t supposed to find you in the shower, practically freezing yourself to death. he wasn’t supposed to know. he wasn’t supposed to know you were hurting. but now he did.

you broke down, sobbing as you muttered apologies after apologies to chris, feeling sorry that he had to deal with you.

“i’m sorry, chris,” you hiccuped, trying to speak through the tears.

“for what?” chris asked, feeling confused about what the hell you were apologizing for.

you stayed silent, and chris took that as an answer. he pulled you in an embrace and ran his hands up and down your back, attempting to soothe you.

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” chris whispered in your ear.

you pulled away from his embrace and sat on your bed, speaking. “i’m so tired of everything, chris. i can’t do this anymore. i don’t want to do this anymore.”

chris’s eyes began to tear up, hearing you spill out your guts. hating the way you were hurting and wishing that he could take it all away and do the hurting for you if it meant that he would never hear you utter those phrases ever again.

the bed dipped as chris sat down next to you, “i’m here for you always,” he murmured. “let me help you, please let me help you.”

you looked up at him, making eye contact with him for the first time since he arrived. “okay,” you whispered.

“okay.” he repeated.

“let’s get some rest for now, yeah?” chris spoke again as he started to coax you under the sheets and into his warm embrace.

chris fell asleep first, and you lay on his chest. now, the only thing you could hear was his heartbeat, lulling you to sleep and reminding you that you were going to be okay.

a/n: please tell me yalls thoughts in comments and need some sort of validation. sorry not sorry for the sad shit but if you couldn’t tell i have problems. also this was sort of inspired by the song bedless by pierce the veil so yeah. any ptv fans reading?



[i-am-baechu]

♬ Summary: After Y/N tells him something, Jungkook will do anything to show her that this is the right universe for her. Even though she already knows that 

♬ Pairing: Established relationship; Jungkook x reader 

♬ Rating:  Explicit (18+) 

♬Genre: Established relationship, comedy, fluff, and smut

♬ Warnings: Smut 

♬ Part of, ‘ His Fan Girl

♬ Author’s note: Special guest lol and Part two to Seven 

♬ Playlist: POV - Ariana Grande

Y/N sat in the back and smiled to herself. This was the first time she actually met Mingyu in person. She actually talked to him through facetime on accident and him being an extrovert was happy to make a new friend. Especially if that friend is his best friend's fiancé.  

Jungkook just released his single Seven and Y/N couldn’t be happier for him. She felt bubbly at the song but she does everything in her power to ignore the explicit version. Even though Jungkook sings it to her everyday. She knew the song would do good and the music video shows how clingy he is when he’s in love. Army loved the song and the accomplishments that he did with the song amazed her. She knew Army powers but it always surprises her. 

She let out a laugh when Mingyu messed up the choreography and her laugh only got louder when she saw Jungkook glare at him, “Mingyu, I told you to learn the choreography!”

“I was learning it!”

She shook her head and stood up from the ground. She walked towards them and placed her hand on Jungkook, “Be nice to him. He has a lot of choreographers in his mind.”

Jungkook pouted at this and turned towards her, “Don’t defend him.” 

“No, Y/N, defend me.” 

She leaned forward placing a kiss on Jungkook’s cheek, “Just re-do it. No harm in re-doing it.” 

He rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Fine but you need to film one with me.” 

“Whatever you want, love.” 

She sat back down and watched them do it again. She took out a bag of cookies from her pocket and nibbled as the two argued about the lighting. She picked up a water bottle and looked at Mingyu, “Mingyu, you should have some water.”

Mingyu smiled at her and glared at Jungkook, “At least someone is nice to me.”

“She’s an extension of me which means I’m being nice to you.” 

After an hour, they finally got the clip and Jungkook shared it on Tik Tok. The drive home was quiet and a thought came to her mind. She let out a small laugh and tiredly turned towards Jungkook, “You know...I wasn’t supposed to go to the BTS concert all those years ago.” 

Jungkook raised his eyebrow and glanced at her through the mirror, “What do you mean?”

“My cousin had tickets for Seventeen. Her mom upgraded her tickets to meet and greet tickets at the last minute.”

“Yo-You were going to meet Seventeen?” 

“I was but I declined because I had a test the next day. I didn’t really think about it until I saw Mingyu today.”

Jungkook nodded his head in a nervous manner and then looked back at her, “Who’s your bias?” 

She let out a small laugh and leaned back in the seat with her eyes slightly closed, “Why?”

“Just curious...” 

“Honestly, I like all of them. I don’t have a bias. I’m going to take a nap okay...I’m tired from work.”

Jungkook nodded his head and rubbed thigh gently as he stared at the road, “Get some sleep babe. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” 

It’s been a week since this conversation and Jungkook has been having dreams about it. What if Y/N went to that concert? He would’ve never met her and he would probably still be single. The possibilities of her being with someone else never crossed his mind because it was always them together. Nothing more and nothing less. It was another night and Jungkook was sound asleep well, trying to be. The mind is a dangerous place. 

“Jungkook, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Jungkook put down his papers and turned to see Mingyu smiling at him, “Oh? Who?”

He moved to the side and there was Y/N. She was dressed in a pink floral dress with her hair in a low pony-tail. He felt his heartbeat go faster at the sight of her, “This is my girlfriend, Y/N L/N.”

He glanced at Mingyu and then back at Y/N, “Girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I met her at a meet and greet. I saw how shy she was and I couldn’t stop myself.”

She shyly smiled and gently smacked his arm, “Gyu...stop it.” 

Mingyu wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled at Jungkook, “Y/N, this my close friend, Jeon Jungkook.” 

Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at her and he felt guilty. This was his best friend's girlfriend and here he was looking at her like she was his. He shook his head and smiled, “He-Hey.” 

She bowed her head at him and offered him a smile, “Hello.”

Mingyu leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “I’m happy you can meet her.” 

Jungkook shot up in his bed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, “Fuck.” He glanced to the side to see Y/N sleeping with the plushie that he won her at a festival. He smiled to himself and pushed some hair off of her forehead. His touch wasn’t light enough and she moved in her sleep. She opened her eyes and frowned at him, “Are you okay, babe?” 

He sighed and looked down at the blanket, “It’s stupid.”

She slowly got up and she wrapped her arms around his arm with a worried look, “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you baby. Take your time.” 

He sighed and glanced down at her, “It’s something about last week that happened...I’ve been thinking about it.” 

She frowned and thought to herself, “Is it because I ate your noodles? I’m sorry-”

“What? You ate my noodles?”

She let go of his arm and frowned, “Yeah....is that not what you're talking about right now? 

“No...you owe me noodles though.” 

She let out a small laugh and pushed some hair off of his forehead, “What’s bothering you then?”

“You were supposed to go to a Seventeen concert...instead of mine.”

She nodded her head and her face shifted in confusion, “Yes? I declined it, remember?” 

“I know...but my mind is making up situations. In another universe you would’ve been with one of them instead of me.” 

She frowned at this and hugged his arm, “Well, it didn’t happen baby. It was fate for me to decline and it was fate that we met.” 

He glanced down at her, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you're my everything. Jungkook. Is that why you’ve been sending me flowers everyday?” 

“Well, you deserve all the flowers in the world and also yes.” 

She let out a laugh and kissed the side of his head, “I appreciate the flowers but baby, I always want you. In every universe.” 

The next moments were blurred but the only thing she knew was that Jungkook was cock deep inside of her. His body pushing hers into the mattress. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and she couldn’t help but admire his dark brown eyes in the lighting. She pushed some hair away and he stopped mid thrust to look at her. She smiled and leaned up the best she could, placing her lips gently on his, “How could I want someone else?” 

He brought his hand and gently touched her face like she was made out of glass, “I hate that I thought of that. Will you ever forgive me?” 

She clenched at this question causing him to moan, “I will...you have a whole lifetime with me to do so.” 

He chuckled at this and gently thrusted into her making her eyes close, “I will do two lifetimes to get you to forgive me.” 

“Jung-Jungkook, this isn’t a competition.” 

“Y/N, you are the woman that I dreamed about when I was younger. The manifestation of every thought of what I want in a partner. I love you, I love you. You are not only my garden but the sun to my garden. My wife.”

She felt her heartbeat faster at his confession and leaned up to bring him in a passionate kiss. He returned the passion (maybe even gave more) and let out a dreamy sigh against his lips, “You’ve been watching too much Netflix.” 

He let out a laugh and kissed her again, “It’s the truth. I love Jeon Y/N.”

She let out a laugh and pressed her forehead against his, “I love you more.” 

“Impossible.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed when she felt another thrust. She couldn’t stop herself from clenching and he groaned at the feeling. The pure feeling of overstimulation and pleasure was taking over, “Jung-”

“I know.” 

She let out a moan at affirmation and he placed a kiss in the crock of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he rocks against her. His hips sutter and she felt his fingers digging deep into her skin as he climaxed inside of her. 

He pushed hair away from her forehead and kissed it as she was dazed out, “This is the right universe. Always with me, always. I love you.” 

[laura1633]

Lestappen #5 for the prompts

Omega prompt game - part two.

This one turned out to be a little bit fluffy 🥰 I do have some different dynamics (Omega Charles/alpha Max) and some different pairings so I will try and get to some of those to mix things up.

Charles can’t help but chuckle as Max brushes up against his cheek before moving in to nuzzle against his neck. The Dutch omega currently looks like an overgrown kitten, bopping his forehead against various parts of Charles’ body and rubbing the side of his face up and over every inch of bare skin he can find. 

Max has always been a huge fan of scenting - both giving and receiving. When the omega has had a good day and he is all smiley and giggly he will launch himself into the nest and spread his sweet happy scent all over Charles’ body. When he’s had a bad day he’ll bundle himself up in Charles’ clothes and slowly be coaxed into a nice gentle purr as Charles delicately scents him. In fact Max loves scenting so much that Charles isn’t sure any more where one of their scents starts and the other ends. They both smell of the embers of Charles’ woodsy campfire aroma and Max’s sweet marshmallowy notes. A couple’s scent that blends together perfectly.

“We need to go in a minute” Charles isn’t sure what has gotten into Max today but he’s being extra diligent with where he lays his scent. He has rubbed his cheeks and his neck and his wrists everywhere at least twice but doesn’t look close to stopping. The omega bunches up Charles’ t-shirt until it is scrunched right up to the alpha’s chest and then proceeds to scent Charles’ stomach once more. 

Charles lays back and watches the concentrated look that has formed on Max’s face. It’s the same type of look Max sometimes gets before he jumps into the cockpit of his car - fully focused and determined.

“Max I - “ Charles’ breath hitches as Max starts rubbing further downwards until the omega is nuzzling against Charles’ crotch, “I can’t - we have to go.” 

“Just a tiny bit more” Max pouts and then continues layering his scent on top of his alpha. One layer is not going to be enough to last the day, especially if Charles gets sweaty during practice or the rain washes away the potency of the scent. Max knows he has to take his time and build layer upon layer if he really wants his scent to last throughout the whole day.

Max isn’t stupid, he knows that Charles loves him, there are just days when he is scared that that love won’t be enough. The paddock is full of available omegas all primped and primed and ready to hunt down a rich attractive alpha. Max is well aware that they’d jump on Charles in a heart beat if he so much as gave them a fleeting glance. It’s why Max has taken it upon himself to make sure everyone is aware that Charles is his and there is no better way to do that than making sure his alpha is drenched in his scent. 

“Are you nervous about something?” Charles reaches out to stroke his fingers through Max’s hair but the omega is still wiggling around and rubbing against him skittishly. 

“No” Max looks up and frowns in Charles’ direction, “I just thought you would like my scent on you.”

“I do” Charles takes the brief pause in scenting to shuffle himself up into a seated position against the headboard, seemingly much to Max’s annoyance. The omega makes a funny little growling type sound, much the same tone and intonation as a disgruntled puppy. Charles knows it is meant to be intimidating but it’s more like a yap than a roar. 

“Why don’t you come and sit in my lap?” Charles has barely finished asking the question when Max clambers up on to him and immediately swoops into the crook of his neck to continue with the scenting. They really should have left quite some time ago but clearly there is something going on with Max. As much as the omega loves scenting, this is all starting to feel a little more desperate than normal.

Charles isn’t completely naive, he’s noticed that Max likes to scent him before they venture out anywhere. He actually finds it pretty cute that his beautiful omega who has alphas falling over themselves to chase after him is so precious about making sure everyone knows that Charles is his. Today seems different though. 

“Baby, do you want to tell me what is wrong?”

“I already said there is nothing wrong” Max mumbles against Charles’ neck. 

“Okay” Charles hums still unconvinced “Maybe we can continue this in the car, I have a meeting with Fred and Bryan and -“ 

“Bryan” Max huffs under his breath. 

“Yes, Bryan.” Charles curiously notices the way Max’s beautiful scent starts to sour, “You don’t like Bryan? I thought you said it was good that I had a new race engineer.”

“Why him though?” Max untucks himself from Charles’ neck and pouts back at his alpha. The omega’s cheeks have started to glow red and the rouge shade is starting to spread up to the tips of his ears.

“Has he done something to upset you?” Charles can’t even recall a time when Bryan and Max were alone so he’s not sure what his race engineer could have done to make his omega so upset. 

“I think you are really talented too” Max murmurs as the red on his ears starts to glow, “I don’t know why he is always saying that stuff, of course he should stick to telling you about gaps and brake balances”

“Baby” Charles coos softly, “Are you jealous?”

“No” Max frowns and the lines of his forehead all start to wrinkle up, “It’s just … why is he always telling you how amazing you are? That is my job. I am your omega. He should just get his own alpha to praise.” 

Max cuddles back in against Charles’ body as the alpha tries his best not laugh, clearly Max has been listening to his onboards again and doesn’t like what he has heard. 

“I can feel you laughing” Max’s mumbles as he pulls back a few inches from Charles, “I can feel your chest vibrating. It’s not funny.” 

“I’m not laughing about what you think I am.” Charles brushes his hand through Max’s hair, “Sweetie, Bryan is just doing his job. He isn’t interested in me, he is just interested in me winning. And even if he did want me that doesn’t mean he gets me does it?”

“No”

“And why is that?”

Max scrunches his nose up like he is trying to mull over the possible answers before settling on one, “Because you have me.” 

“Because I have you” Charles smiles, “My little toasted marshmallow.” 

“Charles” Max rolls his eyes but grins just as widely as the first time Charles used the silly little nickname. It’s quite fitting though, Max’s mallow scent does smell like it is toasted once it’s mixed with Charles’ smokey camp fire scent. 

Charles leans in and licks a line right up Max’s neck, his tongue running broad and flat right against the Omega’s scenting gland, “You taste of toasted marshmallows too.”

Max scrunches his eyes up until his face looks squishy. 

“Why would I want anyone else when I have free marshmallows for life?” Charles laughs and leans in again, licking right over the same spot. Max giggles and squirms around but doesn’t make too much of an effort to escape, the omega clearly more than content to be perched on his alpha’s lap. 

He looks pretty when he’s laughing, the blue’s of his eyes sparkling and the skin around them crinkling up. It’s adorable. More so because Charles loves nothing more than when Max is relaxed and happy.

“Baby you do know I am never going to leave you don’t you?” Charles tries to keep it light but it always tugs at his heart to hear that Max thinks for even one second that this isn’t for life. 

“I guess” Max gives Charles a faint smile, “But there are so many omegas chasing you all the time. I just need them to know you are mine.”

“Is it not enough that I know I am yours?”

Max drags his teeth flat against his bottom lip as he thinks, “No. I want them all to know too.” 

“Max - “ 

“You’re the first thing I ever went after that was just for me” Max’s cheeks are still red as he brings himself to meet Charles’ gaze, “I of course wanted to drive but that was also for my father but you, you are all for me and I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing I ever had.”

Charles’ breath catches as he tightens his grip on Max’s hips protectively. 

“Sorry” Max whimpers, “I can stop scenting you now if you want.”

“No” Charles knows he’s going to get in a world of trouble when he shows up late at the track but sometimes there are more important things to consider. He is Max’s alpha, he’s meant to keep the omega safe and make sure he is happy and feels loved. All of these things are more important to him that meeting and briefings. 

The alpha hooks his hands under his top and drags it up and over his head, “You can sent me for as long as you want” Charles reaches out and holds Max still, “But only if you know that I love you and you’re never going to lose me. Okay?”

“Okay” Max’s lips curl upwards as he gives Charles a rather shy smile before diving back in and getting to work building those layers of scent up on his alpha.

Being scented by Max is never a chore for Charles, he loves the act as much as he loves the end result. Having his omega rubbing up against him is one of the nicest feelings in the world, enough to make him rumble happily as he dives in and starts scenting Max right back. 

[makerofmadness]

ok so what the hell is the legal drinking age in earthbread man like. So I was thinking I would finally have to take the L on the "how fudging old is Alchemist Cookie" thing because Witch's Castle has that side story where she botches an experiment and it basically causes her to act like her brother. Including the alcoholism. (Tbh it is like my favorite special story in the game like part of that is 'cus of favorite character bias but also it ends really sweetly like WC is just really good for grape siblings fans in general they get a lot of content-). So I was like "okay then she has to be at least 19 if we assume the drinking age would line up with the real world/country the game is from. I can take an L I thought she was younger than that but I was wrong" BUT THEN FOR GINGERBRAVE'S BIRTHDAY WE GET THIS:

WIZARD IS A CONFIRMED CHILD THO????

Basically this is like really ancient shxt but like there was something called I think the Junior Cookie Challenge once where basically 9 kid characters gave you missions and WIZARD WAS ONE OF THEM

This is the picture I could find but like. Yeah Wizard's definitely a kid then. (I think this event happened before certain characters were even a thing including Alchemist when I checked the dates so like I have no idea if the characters were like limited for a reason or if this was all the kid characters in the game at the time but regardless I'm. Fubkign. Top 10 questions science can't answer Number 1: how fubkign old is Alchemist Cookie- like I'm guessing she just wasn't designed with a particular age in mind let's be real here-)

but like.

If Wizard can drink then like what is the legal drinking age on Earthbread man like-??????????

EDIT: I looked at the dates wrong/was thinking of when Alchemist existed in Ovenbreak I think and not in LINE (Alchemist was released like years before this event I think)... but then I ran into SOMETHING ELSE that throws a wrench in the works and by that I mean:

so DEVIL COOKIE ALSO existed before this event and yet was excluded but they're like. Really obviously a kid ESPECIALLY as of Witch's Castle (fudging. Three words: Crayon Doodle Set [literally their room decor includes a set of fudging crayola or some shxt like. I think it's obvious what impression we're supposed to get of them like obviously I don't think crayons should be locked off to only kids but like traditionally they're kinda thought of like a kids thing and Devil isn't like. Artistic-themed so to inexplicably have them... you can tell what's being communicated y'know?-) (and like I think Devil being the same age as Angel kinda. Is obvious-).

So the Junior challenge thing pretty much confirms nothing as to which characters AREN'T kids. Just which characters ARE kids. Frickin' almost had it and then lost it again-

Edit again: I also discovered that. Cream Puff existed during the time the Junior Cookie Challenge ran. And yet she wasn't in that. But now they're running kinda a sequel to that in Kakao Cookie Run and she's in THAT. So basically yeah it was never exhaustive 100% frickin' I'm going insane I'm having like two people debating with me (peacefully thankfully) over if Wizard's not actually drinking something alcoholic but like what is he drinking we don't know it could be anything but like he has a wine glass they could've given him a normal glass but they gave the kid a wine glass and we all have to suffer the consequences they didn't even put like a bowl of fruit punch on the table or anything just to say "haha he's just drinking this don't worry he's just a silly little guy :3" no they left the door wide open for us to at least ASSUME if it's not CONFIRMED by this that he's fudging destroying his nonexistent liver at the ripe old age of Child idk it's 2:22am as of me writing this

[faith2wood]

hey! i just finished beholden. i wanted to ask what got you writing, what had you stop for a decade, and what got you back in?

Ahhhh! Asking me why I write? You wanted word vomit? You're getting word vomit.

(There's a little spoiler for Beholden under the cut.)

What got me writing?

RAGE. 

No, really.

I was a lurker/reader in the Buffy fandom at the time, and I'd only occasionally read HP fics — 95% gen!fic, 4% low rated canon romance, 1% Sirius/OC smut, because the rest of my faves were kids, and I wasn't interested in anything else. 

And then after DH, with Draco getting pushed to the brink of redemption, but not crossing the line, and with Harry's view of him changing — always so sorry, so sad for him, always noting how scared he seemed, even switching to calling him 'Draco' — I was left with such a need to read that pairing. I wanted Draco to cross that line, and I wanted that soft understanding Harry had found for him to get explored. 

So, I tried reading Harry/Draco fics. And OH MAN. 

I was no stranger to character-bashing and unusual interpretations of canon — Buffy fandom was pretty damn crazy — but I knew my way around that place. With Harry/Draco, I stepped into the WILD. Fic after fic, all I could find was everything I loved and everything Harry loved in canon torn apart to pieces. His friends, his girlfriend, his House, his beliefs, his humor, the things that he wanted, the things that he fought for, the things that he was willing to die for, his character growth in DH, the confident brave man he became after Dobby's death, all of it dismissed, usually in a handful of exposition paragraphs. Endless apologies for the pure-blood supremacists. Draco 'redeeming' himself by quoting lines written by his fans on discussion boards, and therefore showing me he's not regretful, just full of excuses. Or he's not even redeemed, just cool and rich and suave (lol) and so much wittier than that bumbling, irrationally angry Harry Potter that felt plucked straight from OotP with all his teen angst painfully exaggerated. And then in those fics Harry just goes with it because he thinks Draco is hot. 

I could go on. I won't. 

So, I had that petulant moment where I thought, "Fine. I'll do it myself. How hard can it be?" 

Well, pretty damn hard, apparently. It's hard to create convincing drama. It's hard to get the characters in the right frame of mind so your plot could work. It's very hard to write smart and witty characters. It's hard to convincingly redeem someone. It's hard to juggle a cast of side-characters. It's hard to spell the word nesscscseary. It's especially hard to take that perfect, plausible, well-thought out story in your head and write it down without losing at least half of what makes it good. It's also hard to find time to write and write well. And of course your personal opinions on canon and fanon can seep through no matter how hard you try not to preach, and it can totally ruin a story.

That realization tempered my rage. It didn't mean I was willing to read the things I don't like, of course; I always liberally use that back button. But I did eventually find fics that I love and reccers I can trust, and learned to forgive when authors cut some corners.

Oh, but the taste of POWER writing gave me. The fact that I can just write the things I want to read. Cater to my own preferences. Simply not include the things I don't like. I want it, it's there; I don't want it, it's not.

So that's why I started writing. So I could read exactly what I wanted to read. Stories perfectly tailored for me. Honestly, I'm my biggest fan. I'm my own writing bitch. It doesn't even matter if I fail to do a good job while writing down the little movie that played out in my head, because I know my own intentions. I thought it all through. What I've written might not make sense to a reader sometimes, but it always makes sense to me. And I can always forgive myself if I feel like I failed. I find it very, very easy to forgive myself. Others, not so much, especially if I start to suspect they don't love Harry enough.

What made me stop writing?

I didn't stop writing. I stopped posting. I stopped interacting with fandom. I felt like I had my fill. I'm happy to recycle plots and read and write similar things over and over again, because I want what I want, and I won't apologize for it, but apparently I've reached a limit after all and felt like I have nothing new to offer.

I kept writing stuff. Fanfic for other fandoms, original stuff, even HP fics. Most of it unfinished and unedited and unpresentable, but enough to satisfy my occasional cravings for specific things. Which, as I said, is the whole point of my writing.

So I'll rephrase your next question: What got me to finally finish a Harry/Draco fic and post it? 

THE CURSED CHILD. lol I haven't seen it. Or read it. I haven't even read the synopsis. Next gen, eh, I was never interested. But I caught some spoilers about it on tumblr and reddit — about Draco's wife being ill and dying. That's some incredible stuff. Draco being so loving and dedicated, standing up to his parents, so heartbroken when the person he loved died but still being a wonderful father to his son. It's like I discovered a whole new Draco to think about. It got me all inspired. It's everything I ever wanted for him, except of course his wife dying. So he got to save his seemingly terminally ill lover in Beholden, and got the chance to be a loving, tender husband I wouldn't dare to even imagine after finishing the books, as it would feel too OOC to soften him up to that degree.

It likely wasn't visible, but in my mind, Beholden is kind of a Cursed Child fix!it fic — for that tiny part of the story. I needed it so desperately, I actually finished and posted it.

I have a few more asks in my tumblr inbox, and I'll very happily answer them, but it might take some time.

[strawbs-screaming]

what i think your favorite PO boxer says about you

based on my biases and a year of experience (if you get mad over how i talked about your fave im going to turn you into a can of spam)

first time ive ever maxed out the tags

if i missed your fav tell me ‼️

doc louis - you have good taste and are starving for content about him, you really are a survivor

little mac - you either project onto him or just like calling him your son

glass joe - you have a thing for pathetic men (understandable tbh) and like calling him a wet cat since he fits that desc well

von kaiser - same thing as joe but add a hint of "oh no hes hot"

disco kid - you literally have no enemies i love you so much its not even funny (platonic)

king hippo - my god you are good at making up lore, how the fuck do you make a solid personality for a character that only roars and grunts

piston hondo - im 100% youre a saint, no hondo fan i met has ever been unpleasant to talk with

bear hugger - you either see him as a father figure or just think hes hot or (secret third option) you like making jokes about him being a disney princess, either way youre cool

great tiger - oh you have been here for a long time, literally every great tiger fan i know has been in the fandom since 7.000 BC or something, also youre prob really good at art

don flamenco - you use the word "cunty" on a daily basis or just like making fun of his stupid bald head, also yes he has eyeliner on 100%

aran ryan - you'd overthrow a goverment for this greasy rat, youre extremely extremely gay and/or neurodivergent and thats very good for you, you also like making him say lad and have had to go ankle deep in irish slang when making him speak in fanfics

soda popinski - ive never seen someone have soda as their fav, hes always 2nd place somehow so im just gonna go take a shot in the dark and say you like the color pink (mental gymnastics who??)

bald bull - you are a mixed bag, i gen cant put a finger on what kind of personality bull stans have but i can say you either find him hot or like making fun of him, maybe both

super macho man - least serious people ever with some traumatizing lore for the boxers & their own ocs, you prob make him say bogus 88268292 times in a sentence and i can respect that

mr sandman - ive only seen 2 (two ) ppl who have him as their fav and its kinda sad, youre starving for content of him and i wish you the best

birdie mac - hes your son (im not elaborating)

gabby jay - same thing as joe but you went over the top with liking dilfs

narcis prince - gay. gay gay homosexual gay. you went for the self obsessed blonde twink and you thought it wasnt obvious?? you fucking homosexual

heike kagero - youre 1000% queer, sorry to be a broken record about the gay thing but ur fav is literally a man with long hair & makeup that has to be some flavor of queer

hoy quarlow - you are/were another ancient punch out fan, you def shitpost a lot

bruiser bros - where are you??? ive gen never met a bruiser bros fan and its concerning like dude where did u go

texas mac - im sorry but you dont exist, ive never ever seen a texas mac fan, not even someone who mentions him

mad clown - you foul clownfucker. you have weird taste in characters you find hot and tbh im all here for it

masked muscle - same thing as texas mac but theres a slight chance you exist, if you do please show yourself

dragon chan - another punch out ancient fan, you probably were most active in 2013-2019 and kinda miss old shitposts and have either moved on or dont participate much anymore

spo aran - (this is mostly for Charlie but i have hope that theres some other spo aran fans out there) youre probably looking for other spo aran fans, goodpeed soldier, goodpeed

mask x - you arent getting away with this fuck you

[hatredmadeofgold]

So, Raiden has DID, right. This is a fact.

What do you think about his system? I know you write fanfic about him, do you think there are any other elaborated parts other than Raiden and The Ripper? (I'm not a fan of "evil murder alter," but I feel like naming would be pretty ambiguous. :)

Hey anon, I am sorry in advance but this answer is 2263 words long lmao Go sit back with a beverage of your choice (I recommend water) and enjoy the ride.

[Not sure if you’ve read my little attempt at an essay from July 2022 about him having DID (it’s here), but I do consider it outdated now and would love to update it (same as the one on him having ASPD) at some point when I got the energy for that.]

This is a fact made me laugh a bit, ngl.

I am not a fan of the “evil murderer alter” thing either (I watched Split once and while I give my kudos to the actor’s portrayal of various alters, the story itself sucks ass and I also found it boring as hell to be honest) — if anything, Raiden’s entire system consists of “evil murderer alters”, or none of such at all. We’re speaking about a character who admits to enjoying murder, and that wasn’t The Ripper speaking back then in MGS2 either — Raiden isn’t left in the dark of his violent nature, but he’s left in the dark about the details.

I don’t want to give too many spoilers for my fanfiction series @mgsr-sing-to-me away, since the story goes in-depth about my concept of his DID system, how it was created and what each alter roughly represents, but I’ll try to give you a quick rundown:

Something I think most MGS fans can all agree on is that Raiden in all three games in which he appears feels somewhat different, to the point of ‘inconsistency’ even, and this has created my interpretation and headcanon for him to have DID in the first place, and Raiden having suffered from amnesia is a well-known canon fact.

To me, however, it’s not MGR Raiden who feels strongly different in terms of personality — it’s MGS4 Raiden who feels like an inconsistency.

I consider the Raiden we see in MGS4 actually a different alter being in control of the body than the one who is in control during MGS2. During MGR, it feels like a mix of both of those alters but let me get to that later.

‘Jack the Ripper’ is an obvious alter, not an ‘alter ego’, and when I played MGR in Japanese, the cutscene after the Monsoon boss battle in which Raiden touches the wound on his abdomen made me realise — hold on, he suffered amnesia right there.

Something that I strongly dislike about the English Dub of MGR is that Quinton Flynn isn’t really good at the portrayal of Jack. Throughout the Japanese dub, however, Ken’yuu Horiuchi uses his voice to show the literal switching between at least three alters present in Raiden throughout the game. Unfortunately, this isn’t evident in the English dub much at all, aside from the Jack the Ripper Awakens cutscene.

For easier understanding’s sake, I will give those alters some nicknames (also to prevent spoilers for my fanfiction):

The Raiden of Denial, as we see him both in the first half of MGR and MGS2

The Raiden of Dissociality, as we see in the later half of MGR and on and off during MGS2 (especially during {optional} Codecs with Rose)

Jack the Ripper

The Raiden of Sorrow, as we see him during MGS4

I took these 4 observed alters from the canon as my pillars to roughly create my concept for his DID system, which boils down to an approximate number of 16 or more alters in total.

I say ’16 or more’ because Raiden has never received adequate therapy for his mental health issues during canon, and it’s hard to determine an exact number of alters in general due to the covert nature of the disorder.

I decided to keep the exact number ambiguous but clear and simple enough to not get overwhelmed because technically someone with such severe trauma as his could result in poly-fragmented DID (aka 100 or more alters), but that’s not even set in stone.

Let me get into the specifics a bit.

—

Raiden of Denial alters are parts of him that are, what the (flawed) model of structural dissociation would probably call “apparently normal parts” (short: ANP). I take this model with a grain of salt because DID isn’t as neatly structured as this model suggests (in my experience), but to keep it simple, these alters are less aware of the full extent of their traumas and are therefore ‘functional’ in everyday life as well as interpersonal relationships, however, they feel less ‘fleshed out’ or ‘mask-like’ in his case sometimes.

All Raiden of Denial alters tend to run away from their past, hence I label them with the word “denial”. All of these alters are adults, and the apparent Host alter {at the time}, present in the first half of MGS2 until the nanomachines suppressing a part of his memory (aka suppressing the majority of the system) are deactivated by Solidus Snake, is one of such.

—

Throughout MGR, we can see two alters intruding on each other’s consciousness with thoughts, feelings and memories. One of them is like the one we see in MGS2 and the prologue of MGR, one in denial. Then there’s one we see sometimes in MGS2 and more and more prominently during MGR, a dissocial one.

We see an indirect switch right at the beginning of Chapter 1, where a dissocial type takes over. This shift is also picked up by Kevin, mentioning Raiden’s callousness that Raiden does not respond to.

These two alters are in so much conflict with each other throughout the game that Jack the Ripper decides that he’s had enough of that shit from the other two because neither of them is capable of handling being consistently confronted with triggers and reminders of “who they all really are on the inside”, and shoves them both out of the frame and takes on full control.

This comes with strong amnesia about what happens during his takeover. It’s not total blackout amnesia, but rather that it feels like watching himself act in the third person perspective, and the memory feels like Raiden is watching a YouTube video on a bad internet connection in 360p resolution.

—

Now Jack the Ripper is a persecutor-type of alter — an alter that has a protective role for the system, however, a persecutor’s methods are causing harm to the system overall.

I don’t want to give too much away from my fic as I said, but I’ll give you the hint that Jack the Ripper that we see during MGR is both an adult and a child at the same time.

A child who is trying to protect himself by lashing out at everyone and everything around him. It is obvious given the context of what we are told from the games that Jack the Ripper was born from the horrible things he was forced to witness and forced to do himself when he was a child soldier in Liberia, hence his age-ambiguity. And even The Ripper is split into several variants, making The Ripper his own category of alters.

The variants of The Ripper handle various parts of the horrible things that he had to endure as a child soldier, and they vary in ‘age’ and what triggers them out but they all behave roughly the same.

Despite being different alters of the same category, unlike the other alters within the same category, Ripper variants all consider themselves to be one and the same, perhaps unable to understand the barriers between them as well as gaps in memory.

Also one part of these alters is a child alter who has none of these violent and hostile traits at all, but is still a part of this category. This alter is protected by the rest of The Ripper, and contains all of these emotions that he was not allowed to openly show to guarantee his survival back in Liberia, like fear, sorrow, and pain but also empathy.

There are multiple of these child alters in the system, but they are hard to distinguish without giving them names, some have memories of their trauma, and some are completely oblivious.

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The Sorrow type of alters are what we exclusively see in MGS4 and are what I associate with self-hatred, recklessness, suicidal ideation (internal homicide), self-harm and substance abuse.  

Sorrow types are either adults or teenagers. They exclusively have a detailed awareness of Raiden’s addiction issues, which is another headcanon I have and is also listed in the content warnings for Sing to Me (ARC 2: Parasite Eve will handle this topic the most; and it may or may not be rather graphic, it depends on what I decide in the end what I will decide to publish).

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Now I have listed 4 types of alters but I did not say anywhere that each category of them equates a set amount of alters to get to the number of 16 known alters in the system.

Because there’s another category to throw into the mix: Introjects.

So far, I have 4 introjects in mind that are part of Raiden’s system, but due to Sing to Me spoilers I cannot share them all.

Introjects are alters based on another person, be that a person in the system’s life, a celebrity they look up to, or even a fictional character. They exist in all DID systems in real life (and some sources confirm fiction-based introjects aka fictives since the 1980s) and their existence has a link to the psychology of child development.

One introject Raiden possesses is based on Solidus Snake/George Sears. Said alter is also a persecutor type and could be overlapping somewhat with the Ripper category, but is not a direct part of them. This persecutor introject of Solidus causes the entire system a major hit to their self-esteem, as he enacts the very same punishment onto the system, as the real Solidus Snake did on Raiden when he was a child soldier under his control, and also sabotages a lot of Raiden’s relationships by ‘protecting’ him from perceived threats that he sees in others.

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Another I have in mind is perhaps based on Solid Snake/David and could have formed way before they’ve actually met. This makes sense because Raiden had gone through 2 years of VR training for the Big Shell mission, which put him into Snake’s role when he was on a solo infiltration mission on Shadow Moses Island in Alaska. This David introject is very loosely based on the actual person and is more of a fragment of what Raiden had been made to believe during those times. After their meeting, this introject might take the role of a ‘caretaker’ type of protector. Caretaker in this context must not be understood as to be something like a mother or father figure! However, this alter is counteracting the Solidus introject as well as the Ripper variants, by trying to get himself back on track.

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Then there’s a fictive I feel like I can share about, and it’s the only female alter in the system: Ripley. And with that one I mean the actual Ellen Ripley from the first 4 movies of the Alien franchise.

Given that MGS2 mentions Raiden and Rose having met over arguing over King Kong, I came to think of what other types of fiction Raiden would enjoy and wrote myself a (still unfinished) list of movies and books.

The Alien franchise started in 1979 with the first movie, so it even matches timeline-wise that Raiden possibly saw those movies in his late teens, perhaps on TV or borrowed them from a local video rental store. Kaijū movies seem to be his thing, and although the Alien franchise is not considered one, it does overlap in some aspects of the genre.

Ripley as an alter might have formed when Raiden was moved into a foster family’s home, and to cope with his terrible nightmares that felt far too real, his psyche latched onto the fictional character to dissociate himself further from his past.

What I imagine is that he saw his nightmares, the flashbacks, and what he went through as something as undefeatable and unkillable as the xenomorph as described in the first movie, “the perfect survivor, without a conscience, guilt or remorse, nor moral code”.

Now Ripley was able to survive the xenomorph, and also kill it — by shooting it into space. Something that Raiden always wished to do with his past, just to erase it, as we learn in MGS2. At the time this alter takes its shape, he was maybe 15 or 16 years old. Ripley is also a protector, to protect the child in him additionally from pain. This alter then also takes a motherly role for the system inside Raiden’s Inner World, something that cannot be seen by an outsider.

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The last introject I cannot say anything about it, since that one would give a too-harsh spoiler for my story plans with Sing to Me. I’d LOVE to talk about this alter and the absolute mindfuck he will create once he surfaces and interacts with other characters in the story, but my hands are tied. It sadly takes me so much time to work on the story due to the lack of energy I have overall, but it’s on my mind every single day. Even writing this answer took me two nights T_T

And considering that I’ve written over 2200 words to answer this ask already, I will make a cut here. Because honestly, I could write an entire book about Raiden (and Sam).

Which… I am actually doing, sort of, with my fic, due to its sheer estimated length of around 100 chapters for just the main story.