#absolutely no fucking reason to EVER put an animal on the streets

[silvermoon424]

I watch a lot of Hope For Paws (an animal rescue channel) videos and it always fucking infuriates me how so many people just abandon their pets on the streets. They don’t try to find another home for them, they don’t drop them off at a shelter, they just… leave them outside.

I think a lot of these people assume “it’s an animal, they’ll use their instincts to survive” when like 2 seconds of critical thinking disproves that. Even non-domesticated wild animals that were raised by humans will usually be helpless surviving on their own because they just weren’t raised to have same skills and instincts as their wild counterparts do. That’s why sanctuaries and rescue operations for exotic pets exist; these animals will die in the wild so people want to provide them a safe space.

If it’s that bad for a captive-raised tiger, why the FUCK do idiots think a domestic dog who has never had to take care of itself will be okay being let loose? Maybe we should drop their animal neglecting asses into a jungle and see how well they do. After all, humans still have survival instincts so I’m sure they’ll be able to tough it out.

#this is seriously one of my berserk buttons #there is NO excuse to abandon an animal #at the very least tie them up outside of a shelter with a bowl of water so someone will save them #absolutely no fucking reason to EVER put an animal on the streets #animals #animal rescue #rant

[l1vchuu]

resentment. part three

!! warnings: slight mentions of sh, angst, slow burn, strong language.

And Simon stood there, in silence. The slight yellow rays of the rising sun filled the now empty room- well, half empty. The walls- before filled with your favorite music artists and films, your bed- once piled with your fluffy little animals from Ikea and sheets- once warm and packed with your scent. Now everything was empty and dull- just like the way he had treated you the past few months.

His mind went blank- was he hallucinating? Were you there?

He looked around again, his gaze had sharpened. Did you request to have your own room? Where the hell were you? Why didn't you tell him?

Ghost closed the door behind him, making his way to Price's office- maybe he will tell him.

As the elevator closed its' doors behind him, he strode to the Captain's door, knocking three times before entering.

"Good morning, L.T."

"Good morning, Captain."

Price looked at the sight in front of him- a tall, masked, tired man. He knew what he was going to ask him- and he knew damn well how to answer.

Simon stood there, quite hesitant to ask the thing he had been thinking of- actually, he hadn't prepared the question at all- so the silence filled the room again until Price spoke up.

"She took a break- you will have your own room for a while."

A break? Ghost thought to himself.

"How long?"

Price took a sip from his coffee.

"A month. For now."

A month? A week or two- fine- but a month?

"Is there a particular reason-"

"No reason included."

Price turned to face him.

You and Ghost made quite the pair ever since they introduced him to you. You were always his sparring partner, and so was he. He only ate food if you were around, and so did you. You only accepted a mission only if he was there, and so did he.

After years of being friends and colleagues, you two became inseparable- which meant that absolutely everyone on the team knew that something was wrong. And only one person was to blame, right?

The Captain sighed, nodding his head slightly- a habit of his.

"You don't know, do you?"

Simon's head perked up.

"Know what?"

"She fainted yesterday. She was on the bed for a long time- and she basically looked like a corpse."

Price put his mug down.

"Look, Riley. I'm not the one to get into this mess- but I'm sure the others won't tell you, so I will. The nurse wrote that she fainted out of exhaustion- but that won't explain the cuts and bruises on her body, right? Did you even notice her change in behavior?"

Simon gulped.

"No, I didn't."

"You didn't notice anything? Nothing?"

"No."

Price massaged his temples.

"Our job is to make sure that our soldiers are in good shape and health, Riley. And she is one of our best."

Simon sighed. His mind was blank. Truly. Blank.

"I know, Captain. I've been on night shifts a lot and-"

"We all know what the real reason is, Lieutenant. Drop the excuses."

Price interrupted him, his tone was stricter now.

"Again, what I was saying was- You can't keep doing this. We can't let this team break the trust we have built for years. If one person goes down, so do the others. Understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"I don't know what happened, and it is not my place to do so. I'm saying this as a regular person- try to fix whatever the fuck is going on."

Simon stayed still and silent. His eyes looked tired, but his gaze was strong.

Price sighed again, motioning him to the door.

"This is not a good thing, son. You have a month to figure it out."

As Simon stepped to the door, Price followed behind him.

"And you better pray she won't fucking quit in the meantime."

These were the last words Price had said before Simon left the office.

-

You arrived at the airport, a place you hadn't seen in a long time. You didn't notify anybody of your arrival because you needed to be alone- you wanted to be alone.

You took a ride to your college apartment, glad that it is still for rent. As the taxi passed through the streets, the trees danced to the wind and the sunlight flew through the air. It was about 8 am and the shops were just opening their doors to the public.

The taxi stopped in front of the apartment complex. You paid the driver and got your things to your old apartment without any worries.

You finally had time- time to think everything through and manage your feelings, time to heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, it was the first time you paid any attention to your appearance and you barely recognized it. Your eyes were swollen and empty, your skin was pale and dry, your arms were scratched up- a habit you had when you felt nervous, and your thighs had bandaids.

You had forgotten about it- you hoped you never remembered it. A few weeks ago you almost began an argument with Ghost, but it just ended up with you staying alone in the bathroom, your tactical knife in your hands, and a whole lot of tears and physical pain. You never resolved problems this way, never. Self-inflicted wounds are something you hadn't done to yourself ever since high- school. So you thought about it- Why did I react like that?

You cleaned and stitched up your wounds after you had showered- your skin was hot and soft from the boiling water. It was quite frankly the first time you had taken such a long shower- but it helped you calm down.

Laid in your bed, bags scattered all over the place, you looked at the ceiling and thought about the upcoming month. What were you going to do? Well, you had money from your last paycheck- so you didn't need to worry about that, you need to do something to get you out of your mind, just like the old high school times. What did you do in order to forget about everything? Oh yeah, you joined the military.

There were many other things you could do- maybe go to see a therapist. No, not a good idea. Why? What will I say to them, I don't know what I'm feeling. We'll figure that out.

Jokes aside, you genuinely didn't know how you felt. What was it that bothered you? Why did you feel like that? Absolutely. no. fucking idea.

You hated everything around you, about you, including you. You felt like crawling out of your skin and existing without being perceived as a living person. You felt like a piece of flesh, slowly rotting into the ground, hoping for the bugs to come and consume you whole. You wish to be buried deep into the earth's core, maybe the warmth will be enough to comfort you. You prayed that one day people would walk through you as if you never existed. You prayed that one day people would say your name and not have you in their minds. You didn't want to exist.

But on the other hand, you wanted people to think about you and notice you. You wanted to be taken care of, to be perceived as a human with feelings. You wanted to be held and have sweet things whispered into your ear. You wanted people to smile as you passed by, people to remember little details about you. You wanted people to think about you when you weren't around.

Everything was so confusing to you at the moment. You stared at your empty phone, looking at all of the names of people who you used to talk to before. You weren't allowed any contact with your teammates if you were away- no calls, no messages, no emails. The only way they could possibly make any contact with you is through letters. Will someone write to me? you thought to yourself. Yeah, you said to Price that you didn't want him to notify anyone of your leave- but surely someone would've noticed by now, right? Will someone notice my absence?

But you were away. You were away from the base, away from all of the oils and gunpowder, away from the ink and the papers, away from the tablets and computers, away from the stingy coffee and oatmeal, away from the ripstop and the uniforms, away from the steel and guns. Away from everything.

The first thing that you could try to fix was your eating habits. You barely ate a meal a day for a month and your body was begging for it. But it wasn't going to be easy, of course. You still couldn't bring yourself to have any type of appetite. You still felt the salty taste of your tears on your tongue, and you could feel shivers down your spine. Maybe you could go grocery shopping? Maybe that could help.

You lazily stepped out of your bed, put on casual clothes, and headed out the door with nothing in mind- you'll figure it out.

-

It was a normal day at the base. Everyone was doing their daily routines and their assigned work, training, or planning any new missions. It was the quiet season- there wasn't anything crazy going on, which meant that the atmosphere was lighter than usual. It was everybody's favorite time of the year, except Christmas or Halloween.

Simon was sitting in his shared office, his desk being next to Kyle's. It wasn't a normal day for him though, his mind wandered all around you.

Ghost has suffered through most of his life, given the fact that all of his family was murdered because of him, and he has been imprisoned and tortured by a Mexican cartel. In papers, he is often marked as dead and he constantly wears a mask in order to protect his identity and uses it to cope with his traumas. He often has nightmares and hallucinations, which you used to help him with- would it be staying all night talking or maybe distracting yourselves with movies. He has a long history of disorders, which was the reason why you and he got so close. You coped together, you brought comfort to each other. He was the first person on the team that you got comfortable enough with to share your past, and so did he. It wasn't pity that brought you guys together- it was genuine coping and the need to get better, you healed together.

And there he sat, knowing the fact that he had possibly ruined all the progress you had made.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

Heya! This part was short, for which I apologize- it's supposed to be more of a 'filler', in order to get the emotions flowing in. But don't worry, part 4 will come shortly after, with more action and sadness! (just kidding, or..?) If you liked this part, make sure to like or reblog <: See you next time, lovelies <33

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty fanfic #ghost fanfiction #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley fanfic #cod mw2 fic #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #cod angst

[batty4steddie]

Can I Keep It?

@spicycinnabun and I's contribution to steddiebang 2023! ❤️️ | Chapters: 2/12 | Rating: M | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 | We have a playlist. ❤️️ | Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Chapter 2: Stupid Hunk

The early afternoon at Family Video was so boring. No one was coming in to rent or return movies. Steve had finished all the grunt work. Rentals that came back that morning were rewound if the customer hadn’t done it already. Everything had been put back in its place, and he had straightened up the store.

Usually, Steve enjoyed the free time getting paid to do nothing, but he was feeling listless about work and his love life.

Now, he was just leaning against the counter, playing with Eddie’s skull ring. He had been keeping it under the counter for when Eddie came back to return A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge or if he saw Dustin.

Steve found it fit perfectly on his ring finger and considered not giving it back.

He had a date tonight. He was taking Brenda to the basketball game. He wasn’t sure about her. She was gorgeous but even denser than him. Maybe it was the blonde box dye that had fried her brain.

The game was almost more exciting than the prospect of getting laid. He’d totally fucked up the year before and had lost state for Hawkins. It had been the cherry on top of not getting into college. Steve was looking forward to redemption for the team and a win for Sinclair.

When the phone rang, Steve answered it within a few rings. It was Dustin wanting him to come play D&D. Yeah, right. He would never socially recover from that.

Steve looked at the ring, spinning it around with his thumb. It chafed a little that Dustin thought he was jealous of Eddie. He absolutely was not. “I’m not cancelling my date with Bombshell Brenda. Sorry, Dustin. You and the freak can have fun without me.”

Steve was relieved when two hot customers walked in, giving him a reason to hang up.

Eddie sat on the bus. It was the last one running, and nobody else was on it except himself and the bus driver. He’d abandoned his van back at the trailer—too conspicuous. What happened was fucked. It was so fucked.

He made a noise of distress, picking his feet up off the ground and curling up into as small a ball as possible on the dirty carpeted seat. His eyes went glassy, locked wide in fright. The driver gave him a wary glance from his rearview mirror.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie had barely moved. The bus lurched to a stop, and the driver cleared his throat. “End of the line,” he said.

A few seconds passed. There was no motion from the back.

“Hey!” he said louder. “I said end of the line. You gotta get off, kid.”

That jolted Eddie. He stood on wooden legs and stumbled to the side door, pushing it open and stepping outside. The doors hissed closed, and the bus chugged away and turned around the corner, leaving him alone on the barren road.

There were no streetlights here. Nobody was around.

Eddie started walking briskly, glancing over his shoulder constantly.

When he reached a fork in the road, he stopped and stared into the depths of the woods. Cutting through it was the closest way to his dealer’s house. It was the only place he could go that he knew would be safe from the cops, who would no doubt be coming after him for the fucking death of Chrissy Cunningham. He didn’t know if it would be safe from whatever the fuck had attacked Chrissy.

Eddie stepped off the road and onto the dirt with a trembling breath.

The branches of the trees were long, spindly, and black. He should have heard the rustle of animals scurrying around and insects buzzing. He should have heard the wind off the lake. It was too quiet and too still. He could only hear his breath and the soft whimpers rising from his throat that he couldn’t control.

He started to run. He ran faster than he ever had before. He ran like somebody was chasing him because it felt that way. It felt like he was being watched, hunted.

His lungs gave out long before he did. Eddie was dripping sweat and heaving when he finally reached Rick’s place. The security light was on and casting a cold glow on the ground that wasn’t very welcoming, but at least he was out of the dark.

Eddie didn’t have a key to Rick’s house, and he didn’t want to break in and leave evidence that he was there or risk someone seeing him. A key to the boathouse was hidden in a flowerpot on the back windowsill. Eddie went around, grabbed it and jammed it in the door, having to try three times before he unlocked it because his hands were shaking so badly.

There was no light inside, except for the scant amount coming from the windows and the moon off the lake. Eddie whimpered again, every creak in the floor and every shadow on the walls making him jump.

“Fucking relax, you coward,” he said hoarsely. The volume of his voice almost made him jump, too.

Miracle of all miracles, he found a case of beer on one of the shelves. He drank two of them. It didn’t do much to calm him. Mostly, it just made him feel nauseous and dizzy.

He still saw Chrissy’s body levitating in the air, her bones cracking to unnatural angles, her eyes sucking back into the caverns of her skull.

Eddie climbed into the boat and curled up under the blue tarp, scrunching his eyes shut as he tried to force the images away. The tarp made crinkling noises as he continued to shake, but eventually, his breath slowed. The adrenaline crash hit him, and he passed out.

But he wasn’t out for long, plagued by nightmares that made him toss and turn in the boat, getting twisted up in the tarp. The third time he woke up screaming, he stopped trying to sleep.

Eddie didn’t do much of anything when morning came. He tried to calm himself by going outside and sitting on the dock. It was a sweet relief to feel the warmth and safety of the daylight, but since it was the weekend, there were people out boating, and he had to retreat to the darkness.

He looked through Rick’s things and took an inventory of everything there. Most of it was junk and fishing gear, but there was a first aid kit and some old food in a cooler he could survive on. He couldn’t risk going to a store. He should have packed a backpack, but he hadn’t prepared anything. All he did was run. All he did was leave Chrissy.

Eddie hacked open a can of expired SpaghettiOs when his stomach started cramping, scarfing them down ravenously and cutting his tongue on the jagged tin. He devoured a Big Hunk bar, saving the other two for later like they were precious gems.

Looking at them reminded him of the video store and Steve. To think, he had been worried about finishing his trig homework. When now… now , look where he was. Eddie buried his face in his hands with a hysterical laugh.

That night, Eddie started hallucinating. The isolation was getting to him.

Chrissy’s deformed body kept manifesting in different places. Once on the ceiling, another time in the boat with him under the tarp, and another time while he was outside taking a piss. She tried to talk to him, but her jaw was broken, so it came out like a long, guttural groan. Eddie had never started sobbing with his dick in his hand before. That was a first he wished never to repeat.

When the sun went down and the darkness hit yet again, Eddie was so delirious he could barely differentiate the floor from the ceiling. He heard voices yelling outside.

They sounded, strangely, like his Hellfire Club gang. That sounded like Dustin’s voice. But that couldn’t be. It was a trick. It wasn't real.

Eddie broke one of his empty beer bottles on the side of the boat and then jumped into it, hiding under the tarp.

So, not only had Steve’s date been a total flop, but he’d been roped into going to Lover’s Lake and aiding in the search and rescue mission of Eddie Munson.

He wasn’t sure that Eddie was innocent in all of this. Of course, Steve believed in all that constitutional shit—innocent until proven guilty—but the freak thing he couldn’t shake despite Eddie’s sweetness and sweet tooth he had witnessed the other night in the store.

Still, he didn’t put up too much of a fight. He’d help. He always helped.

When they arrived at the boat house on Lover’s Lake, Dustin rang the doorbell in quick succession. Steve was more than willing to walk away when they didn't get an answer—mainly because it was super spooky, and it felt like they shouldn’t be there.

Dustin wasn’t willing to give up that easily.

Something was trying to get Eddie. Poking, prodding—one smack would have landed right on the family jewels had it been just an inch to the left. Eddie remained silent as the voices continued. They changed to a buzzing drone that grew louder and louder in his ears.

The poking stopped.

Mustering a burst of courage, Eddie sprang out of the boat and backed his attacker up against the wall, shoving him there and pressing the jagged glass to his throat.

Steve couldn’t feel the pain. He was too frightened. He tried not to breathe because the broken glass was too close. His eyes were wide as he watched Eddie. Eddie tightened his grip, which scared him more, and it got harder for him to breathe. He couldn’t believe Eddie was about to stab him in the throat.

One second, Eddie was holding what seemed to be a normal person, then it was Chrissy and her black hole eyes, and then some indiscernible creature barring its teeth at him. He pressed the edges of the bottle harder against its neck until Dustin convinced him they were who they said they were.

A scent invaded Eddie’s nose. He smelled… coconut?

Everything came into better focus, along with the frightened expression on Steve’s face. Chrissy and the monster temporarily vanished. Eddie could feel the frantic pulse beating away in Steve’s neck under his fingers, but he was still suspicious and let them all know it.

It took some more convincing from Dustin, Robin, Steve, and the redhead, Max, whom Eddie recognized as Billy Hargrove’s sister, who had moved in next to them with her mom after Billy died in the mall fire.

Finally, Eddie let go.

He slowly slid down the wall. His hands were trembling again. Dustin reached out to take the bottle from him, face morphing into something sinister. Eddie flinched as it quickly disappeared, and he was just Dustin again, the goofy, smartass little sheep Eddie had herded into his D&D club.

Steve stuck his hand in his jacket pocket and gently thumbed Eddie’s ring, trying to calm down after all that. He didn’t feel like giving the ring back anymore. If Eddie knew he had it, there was a possibility he could think Steve had stolen it. Then maybe he actually would kill him.

Eventually, Steve calmed as the others got Eddie to tell them what had happened.

Eddie tried not to cry as he attempted to keep his fragile hold on reality. There was no way they'd believe him if he told them the truth. They would probably pretend they did, and then, as soon as they had his guard down, they would knock him out and take him straight to the police station.

His eyes went glassy again as he started telling them everything. Even the part where he was a fucking coward who ran.

Then he learned about the Upside Down.

Monsters were real. Monsters were actually real, and they were way less cool than they should have been. Eddie was still trying to wrap his head around it while the three questioned him.

Robin was watching him closely, and Eddie felt exposed. He had a real-life encounter with something otherworldly, and “run” had been his final choice. He’d failed, and the princess had died.

Nearly getting his throat slashed had shaken Steve up. After a little while, he felt grounded again. Especially once he heard what happened to Chrissy. He kept his arms crossed as he watched Eddie and listened to him tell them what happened.

It was harder to hear than he expected. What Eddie witnessed was brutal. There was literally nothing he could’ve done about it. He knew if it sounded this awful, seeing it in person must have been terrifying. Steve didn’t understand why Eddie was beating himself up for leaving her there. He didn’t know what it was, what it was capable of or if it was coming for him next.

That didn’t change the fact that he was suspect number one. Steve was glad they didn’t bring the police into this, even though he had suggested it earlier.

The sting of Dustin favoring Eddie over him lingered from earlier, but Steve chilled out. While it seemed like and felt like Eddie was going to kill him, he hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have killed Chrissy. He had been scared and was too sweet… like the candy he’d bought at the video store the other night. It was clear the Upside Down had gotten to her somehow in the form of a killer monster.

Now that they had found Eddie and figured out what had happened to Chrissy, they could make a plan. Unfortunately for Steve, the first plan involved babysitting, and this time, it wasn’t the kids.

They were leaving when Dustin asked Steve to stay with Eddie. “If I can’t stay, you should. Seriously though, fuck this. Mom will be fine. She won’t worry if I don’t come home for one measly night.”

That was a lie, and his shifty eyes said it all.

“Dustin, look, man… Eddie is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He has a weapon that he almost slit my throat with, remember? You think he needs a babysitter?” Steve shook his head. Technically, he was already babysitting Dustin and Max. He had to make sure they got home safe with this Vecna creep going around breaking people’s bones and killing them. “We can come back tomorrow. We’ll bring him some stuff he needs, like food and water. He can’t live off beer for long. Plus, we’re the only ones that know he’s here. He’s safe for now.”

Dustin accepted his no since Steve promised they’d come back. Part of Steve did feel bad for Eddie.

Eddie’s cheeks burnt as he overheard their conversation through the open door.

While he appreciated that Steve had saved face for him, it was humiliating for Dustin to suggest it. For a kid to think someone younger than him needed to keep watch over him. Babysitter? Fuck. Even worse, Eddie’s heart was pounding again, and his breath quickened because he was about to be alone again.

Robin was still watching him with her observant owl eyes. When he looked at her, she handed him her flashlight with a sympathetic smile before joining the group outside. Eddie clutched it too tightly and gave her a half-hearted salute, grateful for the small comfort.

After the door shut, he heard the engine rumble as the car started and the quiet as the noise moved further and further away.

“Don’t,” he told his tear ducts fiercely because they were welling up again. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

This was all just… way too fucking much.

Eddie returned to the boat with the flashlight, sitting cross-legged with it in his lap for a few long minutes as he got his sniffles under control. The flashlight flickered, making his heart flutter, but it stayed on after he smacked the base violently with his palm.

Steve seemed like a brave dude. Braver than him, at least, to have been dealing with this other world for so long, these real-life fucking monsters, all while he lived his everyday life and worked at the video store. He was more than just the vain bully of a jock Eddie had pegged him as. Maybe. He bet Steve wouldn’t have let Chrissy get put under a curse. He would have done something to stop that from happening to her.

Eddie picked up a Big Hunk bar and opened it, drowning his feelings in corn syrup and peanuts. “Stupid hunk,” he muttered, taking a big bite, “being all hunky and brave.”

Eddie finished the bar, throwing the wrapper overboard. His head suddenly dipped as exhaustion hit him. He was close to tipping over when he caught himself and cursed, forcing his eyes back open as the boat swayed on its chains.

He wondered if Steve would have stayed and kept him company if Eddie hadn’t almost killed him. It had been an accident, but he hadn’t apologized. Shit.

The next time Eddie’s head dipped, he fell back and let sleep take him.

Eddie jerked awake to noise from outside. He vaulted out of the boat, bottleneck clutched in his fist as he peered out the window, panting with adrenaline. It was light out again, so he had actually gotten some sleep, but he wasn’t focused on that. Someone or some thing was there. The floorboards creaked.

Or not.

His heart had barely slowed before the door clanged open, revealing Dustin, Steve, Robin and Max.

Eddie’s shoulders slumped. He glared balefully at them, but it didn’t last long because he was glad to see them. “Knock next time, or I won’t be tipping,” he told Dustin.

“Uh, I’ve earned a tip for stellar customer service with a smile, thank you. No take-backsies.”

Eddie cleared his throat as the munchkins started unloading the grocery bags and making themselves comfortable. He set down the broken bottle. Robin leaned against a steel shelf and looked out at the water, which was peacefully still without any wind.

Max opened a bag of chips, and Dustin scolded her as she shoved a handful in her mouth. “Those are for Eddie ,” he said, way too overprotectively if everyone’s expressions were anything to go by.

Max shrugged. “Eddie can share.”

“Course I can. I’m not a chip hog. Unless those are Bugles,” said Eddie. Putting Bugles on his fingers like claws was always a tasty and perfectly on-theme accessory for Hellfire nights.

Fuck, was he ever going to have one of those again?

"We got Buges!" Dustin said. He was already helping himself to the chips, arm stuck in the bag, while Max rolled her eyes at him.

Eddie was hungry, but there was something he had to do first. He reached into his pocket, sweaty hand wrapping around the wrapper of his last Big Hunk bar. It turned out the information he’d filed away about Steve liking them would come in handy now. Hopefully.

He nodded at Steve, stepping towards him while everyone was all distracted. He held the bar out as a peace offering. “Hey, dude, um. I’m sorry about last night. You know, the whole…” he trailed off, motioning towards Steve’s throat with his other hand.

Steve wasn’t expecting an apology from Eddie. Nearly getting attacked had left him full of adrenaline after he’d gotten home. It had taken a while to wind down and fall asleep, especially after Eddie had horrifyingly recalled what had happened to Chrissy. Steve hadn’t known what Eddie was capable of until he had been in the thick of it. Eddie was strong and very threatening. Getting an apology made Steve confident that Eddie didn’t have it in him to physically harm him or anyone else. He was probably all bark and no bite.

As Steve listened, he smiled a bit, remembering it almost fondly as he lightly touched his throat. He looked down as the apology hit him and made him bashful that he was even getting one.

“I was kinda worked up. Hadn’t slept much since Friday. Which is still not really an excuse, I know,” Eddie rambled, “So, just—”

This was going swell.

Steve gave a casual shrug of his shoulders and then looked back up to catch Eddie’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Eddie repeated, clapping Steve on the shoulder and giving it a warm squeeze.

It felt like Eddie was looking directly into his soul. Their eyes connected for an abnormally long beat. The intensity made Steve’s eyes drop to Eddie’s lips, and he immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise just like they had when Eddie had the bottle to his throat.

Eddie’s stomach stole the show by rumbling like an angry bear, interrupting Steve’s weird physical reaction to the apology and touch. Steve nodded, understanding. “It’s cool,” he said, brushing it off. He had been over it after Eddie told them about Chrissy, anyway.

Eddie nodded, annoyed at his stomach for no discernable reason. Steve had accepted his Big Hunk and his apology.

Moving away, Eddie sat down and started ripping open the bag of cereal. The smell of the Honeycombs invaded his nose. He was shovelling them into his mouth between sips of sugary sweet Yoo-hoo when Dustin told him the bad news. He always went with the bad news first.

It didn’t surprise him that the police were looking for him and that he was the only suspect, but his lips still trembled, and his appetite vanished, a nauseous feeling replacing it.

The entire town would be lighting their torches and sharpening their pitchforks. Many people already had a problem with him, especially the members of the church, so hunting him down was going to be like Christmas morning for them. He didn’t see any way this could end well for him.

That was until Robin informed him that this wasn’t their first otherworldly rodeo. They had been through this kind of shit before.

Eddie glanced at everyone in the room, lingering on Steve until he nodded in confirmation.

Eddie's eyes bulged as they tried unsuccessfully to reassure him, and his eyebrows lifted. Jesus Christ. Right, there was nothing to worry about. Nothing whatsoever. And a girl with superpowers, so what? That was totally normal.

Sirens sounded nearby, making them all go on high alert.

“Tarp!” said Robin urgently. “Tarp, tarp!”

Eddie ducked under it, pulling it over himself. He clenched his eyes shut as they waited and whispered the chorus of Leper Messiah to calm his racing heart. “Time for lust, time for lie. Time to kiss your life goodbye...”

Fuck, this was it. He was going straight to the big house. He would be reunited with his dear old man, who would be thrilled to see him, especially after their last conversation where Eddie told him about his big plans. About how he was really going to buckle down, graduate school this year, and get his diploma. Hell, maybe even get into a college.

Dad had laughed his ass off, sporting a wide grin through the plexiglass. " You really think you can get into one of those smarty-pants schools?"

It was said with affection, which made it hurt even more.

Steve followed the others to the window as soon as Eddie was out of sight. He hung back slightly. They watched the cops speed right past the boathouse.

Once the sirens dissipated, Steve felt a slight sense of relief. Eddie was still wanted, but at least they wouldn’t have the police snooping around with him only hidden under a tarp. It was the most obvious hiding place. When Steve originally started poking around with the oar, it was clear to him then. Not only that, but Eddie’s broken bottle was no match for a policeman’s gun.

It was only a matter of time before someone else figured out he was hiding here at Reefer Rick’s. They had to prove Eddie’s innocence sooner rather than later. While Dustin made it sound totally plausible, they had a lot of work to do.

“They’re gone. For now,” Steve said, grabbing the top of the tarp. He pulled it back just enough to free Eddie’s face. He still looked terrified. That made him feel bad. Steve didn’t want to leave him here all alone again, so he thought quickly.

“We need to get you out of here,” he told Eddie. Steve’s house was in the direction of where the police were going. No one would expect Eddie to be there. “We’re going to take you to my house. My room is in the basement. My dad is out of town, and my mom is probably passed out on the couch. It’ll be easy to sneak you in. I do it all the time with my dates. What do you say?” Steve thought it was a pretty good idea.

Robin’s eyebrows slowly climbed into her hair. She gave Steve a peculiar look, unseen by Eddie.

Eddie’s brain was now short-circuiting from a completely different reason other than fear. Not even in his wildest dreams would he think he would be offered shelter from Steve Harrington. At the very most, he should have been offering Eddie a hiding place in his dusty pool shed or something—not in his very own, very personal bedroom in his basement.

Eddie’s stomach was unexpectedly flipping the fuck out as he looked up into Steve’s, also unexpectedly, kind brown eyes. “Um…I…are you—”

—really sure you want me there? He didn’t get to say because Dustin interrupted him, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Great idea, Steve! Then we won’t have to ride out so long to bring him things.”

Robin’s eyebrows said it all. What was Steve thinking? She was surprised. Steve was, too. He had just invited Eddie to stay at his house… in his room.

Whatever, it wasn’t that big of a deal. And there was no taking it back now.

“Can we leave now?” Max asked. She was rubbing her temple, her forehead creasing like she was in pain.

Steve looked at Max. She had really been worrying him. It sounded like whatever had gotten Chrissy was after her now, too.

Eddie sat up quickly, moving the tarp off himself and jumping out of the boat so he didn’t miss his ride out of there. “Well, I’m not going to miss that thing one bit,” he said honestly. Anything would be an upgrade from the boat.

His mind was already off to the races. What would Steve’s bed be like? Hard? Pillowy soft? Would Eddie be sleeping on the floor? Maybe Steve had a couch in his bedroom. Rich people had other furniture in their bedrooms, right? Why would Steve’s mom be passed out in the middle of the day? How many dates did Steve sneak into his bedroom on a weekly basis? Why was Steve doing this for him?

Steve nodded, “Alright, let’s go. The quicker we get Eddie to my house, the quicker we can find out what the police are after.”

Steve led the way out of the boathouse. He got in the car first and waited for everyone else to pile in before starting it. As he backed up, he caught a glimpse of Eddie in his rearview mirror. He seemed less rattled, which made Steve feel better about his decision

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddiebang23 #gifs by me #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things edit

[seishun-emergency]

anyways. got tired of that whole "being sick" and "resting" thing so i made a tierlist! enstars characters and what i think their best/favourite style of competitive dance would be

explanations/notes under the cut if you're interested whatsoever in my thought process

ballet: starting with the obvious ones we've got izumi (canonically did ballet) and then the mfers who seem to have obvious ballet training (fushimi, shu). the other 4 i can't explain aside from like. vibes. look me in the eyes and tell me that adonis wouldn't absolutely kill it with the jumps expected of guys in ballet. hokuto has the prince vibes necessary for like every pas de deux ever! i think tomoya would get lifted a lot. and i think midori could do the lifts

jazz: there's like three threads of reasoning behind every character here. either 1) they aren't rigid enough for ballet but benefit from the structure and technique of jazz, 2) have the Energy for it. the Sass or 3) have the other kind of Energy for it (energetic/jumpy/etc.)

contemp/lyrical: i feel the need to point out that i accidentally put 4/5 of la mort here. Not On Purpose. (worth also noting that noir neige's choreo falls loosely in the vein of contemp/lyrical) kuro and tatsumi might be weird ones but hear me out i think they would both benefit from the looser amounts of freedom and ability to express yourself that contemp and lyrical have. how directly it is used to express emotion, particularly Sad or Upsetting ones

tap: now i'm biased because My favourite style is tap but i think everyone here either has the natural rhythm to understand tap from a musicality point of view or they would be able to make the rhythms of tap make sense to them in a logical way. (also i think tori did tap? in the fine vs. trickstar DDD match?? at least it sounded like it in the anime) specifically for hajime i think he would find it easier to just have to coordinate two of his limbs instead of his entire body at all times until he eventually gets better body control via dancing more because lord knows i was also like that,

hip hop/street: mostly self explanatory! tsumugi is there because of the brilliant smile music video are u kidding me. who taught him to fucking breakdance. i think shinobu would be surprisingly good at it because he's got good body control and would be good at picking up specific details of choreography! and i think aira just deserves to have cool moments

improv: barring the canonical one (leo tsukinaga ur insane) these are all guys i think have a lot of natural creativity and talent and would love to just fucking go at it with any song! they get to express themselves and their dance style and knowledge in arguably the most raw way possible on a competitive stage

musical theatre/variety: if you've never seen musical theatre/variety at a Dance Competition let me tell u this is some of the funniest most over the top shit ever. anyways. wataru is here bc he's the theatre bitch (otherwise he'd be in ballroom or jazz) and chiaki is here because he is so over the top (otherwise he'd be in jazz or hip hop)

ballroom: i can't see them doing any competitive styles and feeling comfortable in them. that is why this tier exists. they'd both do ballet tho if they HAD to choose one bc it has the necessary structure/similar expectations of elegance and poise

#leo composes #enstars #ensemble stars #i use my other special interest of Dance to make Insane Tier Lists #and also analyze every music video's choreography but that's harder to translate to tumblr #it's just me screaming at my computer and rewinding every five seconds to rewatch something #'leo what are your qualifications to make this' uh #i did competitive dance for 10 years and have been dancing since i was 3! #i love dance. i love talking about dance

[k-ru-h]

theres something to be said about inherent human kindness and art and all that

i had an absolute trainwreck of a day and an hour long gap between classes, so i decided to plop by the local art store thats too far away from my home but maybe a 10min walk from school. they had really good prices and i wanted to buy the pretty pastel watercolors for myself and my friend, to make the day less miserable.

the storeworker, a kind-looking old man (surely at least in his 60s), picked up all the aquarelle boxes, saying he didnt want me, a seemingly abled person, to have to kneel on the floor to look at them. and he told me how he doesnt stock all the colors but he explained to me in detail, umprompted, how to order them for myself, with or without paying him. and he told me how hes owned this store for 28 years and hasnt changed locations (despite the location being horrible) because hes genuinely attached to this one. this shitty, tiny little hole in the wall place with no AC or even proper ventilation. and he started talking about his days as an artist, and all the incredible people he met, and how stores from the capital monopolizing certain brands ruined his once proud selection of products, and how to properly use watercolor paper, how to use distilled water and stick to one paper brand and how his personal dream is to get his hands on the aquarelles created only by and for that one russian college, and he treated me, a fucking infant baby child (18) whos been doing aquarelles for like two days (4 years) as a genuine peer and worthy conversation partner. and i almost started crying from the genuine love i felt for him.

and the day after, i got hungry between classes and decided to stop by the bakery. the bakery itself is overpriced - for the same price as other ones, you get maybe half the product. and its been closed for tax fraud maybe a month ago.

and this storeworker is an elder woman - not as old as the artist, but surely near or in her 50s - and she sometimes wears the bracelet i made her. the other students call her the "empress" of the store (named "empress"). she is the only reason i go there, and i only go when shes working the shift. at first it was because of the free food shed give us. shed always toss in a few cookies, she even remembered my favorite, and shed wish you a "royal" day (pun intended). soon, we started going there outside of the rush hours, and actually talking to her. her dream has always been to be an opera singer, but this is a poor country, and she has a sickly mother and a son who lives abroad to take care of. but she told us she found her fulfilment in work through the kindness she spread - not just the free food, but the compliments and kind words. and i almost cry every time i remember she didnt know she was so loved by the students. when i told her everybody only goes there for her, she actually didnt believe me, and when i noticed she dyed her hair (we now have similar haircolors!), she put it down and posed in front of the little hanging mirror with the biggest smile ive ever seen on her.

and i havent seen this person lately, im assuming because i havent been to one of the two places she frequents and she, probably, has, but theres this wonderful woman - i cant tell if shes old or worn down by hard work and stress - who always has the most vibrant, colorful jewelry and carries a little cardboard box.

and she approached me one day, i was going to meet up with some friends to talk about lord of the rings, and she stopped me to tell me how beautiful my hand made jewelry was. and she was holding a puppy under one arm, almost cartoonishly, and told me all about how she used to have a jewlery stand right here in this street. all of the money shes ever made shes invested in taking care of stray cats and dogs. even if it meant shed go hungry, she always made sure the animals she took care of were fed and warm and happy. but the stand was closed because of tax issues, and no cop was sympathetic towards the little kitten or puppy shed always take with her, so she was forced to make ends meet however she could and beg for money or pet food donations. and this wasnt her pressuring me for money - i hadnt even brought my wallet that day, i had my phone and some tea. this was her genuinely just wanting to stop and compliment me, and being delighted to have someone to talk to, and whenever i see people treat her like dirt i want to cry.

my point is, i met a painter and a singer and a craftsman, and all of them were the kindest people ive ever met. and i don't really look approachable, i usually only get hateful looks in public, but these three people, with far more experience than me, just genuinely wanted to talk about the things they cared about, and what they create, and i think creation makes you kinder. i think painting and singing and crafting, no matter if its a life long profession, a dream, or a failed venture, makes you more than the summ of all your parts. or something cringe like that idfk

#i just needed to get this vent out of my system actually bye

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

What make up product do you never use? I rarely wear make up, usually only for like certain occasions but one thing I’ve never used is foundation

Do you ever sit with your legs open? more than I probably should lol it’s the tomboy in me...I’m always in jeans so it’s whatever I don’t care :P

Have you ever been offered drugs on the street? no

What is one place you have been to and hated? Clifton, CO...

Have you ever seen a jellyfish? not in person

Do you know who Dylan Moran is? yeah

What’s your favourite kind of soup? alphabet lol no joke

Do you ever put bread in your soup? if it’s tomato soup of course I dip my grilled cheese in it! otherwise no

Would you like me to stop asking questions about soup? lol I don’t mind

Is there anything in the USB key slots in your computer/laptop? no

What advertisements are on your screen at the moment? none

Do you ever get a really itchy nose when you’re unable to scratch it? I mean I can scratch it but it just keeps itching and drives me nuts sometimes lol

Has anyone ever randomly licked your face? not full on lick but like poke with his tongue when kissing my cheek to mess with me lol 

When was the last time you bought a book? Tom Felton’s memoir a few months ago

What question do you hate being asked in surveys? they can get pretty repetitive but I don’t necessarily hate any, it is what it is 

Are you upstairs or downstairs at the minute? it’s a one level house so neither lol

Did anyone ever draw on your face when you were sleeping? no

Have you ever done that to someone else? I’d never do that, I’m not Jigglypuff :P

Have you ever been asked for directions? yeah

If so, did you ever give someone wrong directions? hopefully not, I suck with directions even for myself let alone trying to help someone else!

What’s your favourite brand of chocolate, galaxy, cadburys, or nestle? Nestle since the other two aren’t a thing here lol

Are there any farm animals near you? oh yeah there’s tons of farm land here so lots of people have cattle. closest ones to farm animal around here I’ve seen are goats, sheep, and cows

Are there any lakes near you? a few small ones

Was there ever a time when you felt absolutely terrified? a lot of times actually

If so, why? many reasons, depends on what terrified me at the time

Is there any TV show you watch religiously? Jeopardy, Shark Tank, Hoarders, EVERYTHING on ID (crime shows), Law and Order: SVU, court shows mainly Judge Judy, Bar Rescue, To Catch A Smuggler...just to name ‘a few’ XD

Have you ever been in your local newspaper? one time the first time we moved to CO, I was in 5th grade and our class was in the newspaper for our class pet and I’m reaching toward it to pet it which is the pic they chose for the paper lol it wasn’t front page or anything though

Have you ever called your mother ma or mammy? no

Can you imitate any other accent? yeah Brit and “country” pretty well, I think :P

What is your funniest memory of the 6th contact in your phone? ironically enough that’s my fiance cause I have him listed as ‘Babe’ XD and wayyyy too many to even count or list

Have you ever protested? no

Have you ever participated in a parade? no

Are you going to do anything for Paddy’s day? already passed and couldn’t drink so...sucked

Were you ever chased by an animal? not that I remember

Has anyone ever really insulted you? ha you serious? all my life

Have you ever told an elder to fuck off? not to their face...but I’ve worked a lot of retail so nuff said XD

Do you ever make banana sandwiches? oh my goddddd no but I fuckin love them!

Do you blush easily? ohhh yeah it’s ridiculous lol

Are you single/or taken? taken

Are you happy with that?^ yes

Do you make the first move or do you prefer it the other way around? other way around

What is the most painful thing you’ve experienced? physically I’d say my collarbone being broken, with ovarian cysts bursting and the cramps from that a very tight close second

Do you feel guilty about anything? all the fuckin time

Do you hug someone whenever you see them? my fiance, my dad/stepmom/stepsis when we visit them in NJ

Have you ever been in the accidents and emergency room? I damn near live in the ER...accident wise? yeah, a few bike wrecks growing up and most recently when I totaled my car last year due to a DUI....I should be dead right now, let’s put it that way and I somehow came out with only major whiplash and a few bumps and bruises..

When was the last time you bled? What happened? I won’t state the obvious since I’m a woman XD umm this major basal cell on my hairline that I’m having major surgery on soon to remove with subsequent surgeries for skin grafts given how extensive it’ll be bleeds/pusses all the time even without touching it and rescabs/repeats so...yeah 

Is there anyone you know that gives you the creeps? not that I can think of at the moment

Do you call random objects ‘gay’? no

Have you ever started talking to someone that you thought was someone else? no

When you look behind you what catches your attention the most? the tv tray next to the loveseat (I’m sitting with my back against the armrest and legs stretched out) and the clutter on it :P

#survey #bored #about me #random

[thelovelydiane]

FIGHT ANGEL REVIEW

Why yes, I am a fighting game buff. How could you tell?

For my first review I wanted something absolutely spectacular, something to really announce myself as a connoisseur of pornography. Then I saw Fight Angel and realized I needed to review this instead. Fight Angel Special Edition - not to be confused with Fight Angel Complete which adds a few more customisation options, is sure to be an EVO event soon enough. Any day now. Released on Steam in August of 2019 and as far as I can tell nowhere else - Fight Angel is a 2D fighting game with 3D graphics that you stick on when Rumble Roses simply isn't enough. The first thing you notice when booting up Fight Angel is that the UI is HORRIBLE. In the settings to turn the music down you must hit left, because of course you do, but when you do so you're brought back to the menu on the left so you must go back in for each notch you want to bring it down. The horrible UX carries over to the character editor of course. The editor is one of the biggest drawing points, being able to make the girl of your dreams and have her kick the shit out of people. You can't navigate the character creator with a controller, the "eyelash style" option does literally nothing, menus just go the wrong way sometimes, it's almost impressive what a mess it is. The options themselves are about as in-depth as you'd expect at least. The anime style is fine. There are… really off-putting models in the backgrounds of the stages though. Some are children too? which. Buddy you should NOT be here.

My character's name was COOLGALÍN by the way. Leave her alone, she has Alexandria's Genesis.

I played the arcade mode and (a portion) of the story mode in easy - my reasoning was quite sound - oh my fucking god I'm really playing a porn fighting game. The game's mediocre at best. No character really feels unique, there's not a whole lot that's interesting going on. At least you can look at boobs though. …If you download a patch, of course. This game doesn't come with nudity pre-packaged (despite a warning for nudity when you open the steam page). When you try to unequip a characters bra in the menu you're given a message telling you you're not allowed to do that, and the clothes tearing only goes as far as the underwear. So yeah, the game's quite tame.

The arcade mode doesn't offer much. The final boss - the Akuma or Sagat - is Una. I don't have a picture of her on-hand and I'm not installing this stupid game again. When you fight her there's a creepy ambient track playing to show how fucked up and creepy she is, really get the atmosphere going. Sadly, the normal shitty midi keeps looking in the background, I guess they hardcoded the midi into the fights or something. It's also an excruciatingly short loop. Your reward for beating the arcade mode is you get to see the character you beat it with dance. It's not good.

This might come as a shock, but the story mode leaves something to be desired. It sucks and not in a fun way. Rather than a cheesy over the top story, what I expected, it's the most boring and milquetoast thing I've ever had the displeasure of sitting through. Yulia, our protagonist, entered the FIGHT ANGEL TOURNAMENT, and not much else happens. As far as I got at least, my patience was wearing thin at this point so I stopped. The plot consists of conversations between characters in their default poses. The main menu theme is playing. Text unceremoniously appears beneath them. There is nothing else.

This game sucks, dude. There's no love put in anywhere, not for fighting games, not for porn games, probably not for living either. If, for some reason, you do genuinely want a fighting game to jack off to then I'm sure there's some Street Fighter nude mods you could download. They're bound to be more fun and sexier than whatever the fuck this is.

I guess I need a way to rate these games - let's go with these three categories for now. GAMEPLAY: 3/10, it's a bad fighting game. WRITING: 1/10, genuinely would be better if it was non-existent. HOTNESS: 2/10, you can't jerk off to this. There aren't even boobs without a patch.

#nsft #game review #review #h game

[kingkatsuki]

Put it on my list, it's #1 there 💕

Or or or, you're a streamer! You're normally playing horrorgames or shooter, sometimes when you have a hard time you pull out Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley, but you've never tried Otome games before. So, 'Love me, Hero' would be the very for you and it just blows up on your streaming side.

"Streaming legend YN started dating Pro-Hero Bakugou again!?" some socialmedia news would write, because you and Bakugou just broke up.

You hoped you could avoid the 'ExploGod'-Route for as long as possible, but the tutorial actually starts with a fucking explosion. So you're stuck there, playing through the shittiest story you've ever read, muttering some things like "He wouldn't react like that" or "That's too cheesy for him, he's got a reputation to keep" and "Really? The writers really think he would just leave the still ongoing crime scene because you're too afraid to cross the street?" Like, you're shittalking the game constantly and your fans agree with you, but in reality... You just don't want to admit you have fun playing it, even tho you think it's shitty.

BUT, that was just the tutorial, the real game is something else. It's filled with angst, comfort, innuendos and flirts. You change your mind after the first two chapter, it's good - and that hurts. They actually got the character of your past lover done, and that even accurate.

You're playing until chapter 6, where you're in a relationship with him, went on a few dates, just fell in love with him (again, or harder you don't know if you ever stopped loving him), the usual. But then, they've written a fight between you two and you had to choose.

"Let him decide between more Herowork or you"

OR

"Tell him you'll leave if he walks through the door"

And you're just... heartbroken because that's kinda what happened in real life a few weeks ago. A game predicted it, made it inevitable, your friends and family told you he would choose the Herowork, because that's all his life is about, fuck even the Pomerian he saved three chapters ago knew it.

You deleted the game that day and went offline for a week...

-💕 (ooops, that got angsty real quick 😅)

OMG NO I THINK YOU’RE ONTO SOMETHING WITH THIS!!! You already know those kinda fics are my absolute shit so I am in love with this idea!

Imagine if the shitty otome game has you remembering all the reasons why you love him all over again, and like Twitter and everything blows up to try and get you back together with him in real life? Maybe Bakugou sees the news headlines or tweets that you’re playing and he creates an anonymous twitch (or whatever streaming site idk) account so he can watch you? Maybe he leaves little comments along the way too? Agreeing with you when you say he wouldn’t react like that or do something like that?

You could even spin it that Bakugou hears they’re bringing this game out and he thinks it’s stupid because even into his late 20s he’s never had a girlfriend but whatever. He finds your account online streaming it and he’s curious so he watches you play, and maybe he falls in love with you on the stream???

God you’ve got my head spinning with ideas now. Your MIND!

#💕anon

[aggravatetheaxe]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request an imagine where a victim “escapes” from the slashers and hurts s/o in the process. What would the slashers do during and after? Thank you!!

Hi! I wasn't sure which slashers you wanted for this, so I put my list into a randomizer and went with the first 5!

Walter Sullivan

Thomas Hewitt

Jason Voorhees

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Erik ("The Phantom")

SLASHERS WHOSE VICTIM HURTS THEIR S/O

cw: mentions of suicide, reader being injured/in mortal peril, mentions of torture and killing etc etc

--

Walter Sullivan

Oh no. Oh dear.

You are possibly the only good, pure thing in this world or the Otherworld and someone hurt you? Walter is ... not happy, to put it lightly. The only person who should ever hurt you is him, and he won't do that unless it's for your own good.

This only enforces his belief that the world and everyone in it are monstrous. It drives home the truth he's already convinced of - this existence in terrible and torturous and needs to be destroyed if anything holy is ever going to be allowed to blossom again.

Whether The Victim is pre- or post- Walter's suicide, he's already stopping at nothing to go after them. He doesn't view it as personal, he doesn't hold any particular hatred for most (most) of his victims; they're simply links in a chain. But this person, the one who hurt you ... it's personal. They'll die in absolute agony.

If the victim in question is pre-suicide, Walter will bring them down and find somewhere to keep them for later. This will not be a quick death.

While they're bound/gagged or knocked out, he'll check on you. You're special, possibly even the Mother Reborn, and he can't let you die until the time is right. If you're seriously injured, he'll see to it that you're taken to the hospital, and pray to a dead God if he has to that you'll be alright. If you're not seriously injured, he'll do his best to patch you up - he lived on the streets for many years and had to take care of himself, so he knows basic first aid.

Once he's certain you're safe, he will put you somewhere where you won't witness what he's about to do. Even if you want to see it, he'll insist you stay hidden, saying the sinner doesn't deserve to be in your presence. You'll have to really convince him if for some reason you want to watch.

Their torture will depend on what they did to you. If it was just a few scrapes and cuts, he'll let them feel every ounce of pain before they die. If they really hurt you, their torture will be prolonged. In his mind, and according to his religion, death is a sacred sacrament, and this evil being doesn't deserve its release. If they did something to seriously traumatize and/or sully you ... the crime scene he leaves behind is going to be grisly, to put it lightly.

If the victim in question is post-suicide, the results will be similar, but he has absolute control over the Otherworld - and he will utilize that. He will have his creations take care of you and keep you somewhere safe ... they may be terrifying, but they won't hurt you unless he wills it. As for the victim, he can twist them into their worst nightmares over and over again before killing them. He will make them see their wrongdoings and pay for their evil. They will beg for mercy and there will be none.

After it all, he will simply move onto the next one, with you somewhere safe ... until it's time. Until it's time. You are so perfect.

Thomas Hewitt

Dammit. If he'd just been quicker or smarter, he could have caught them before they escaped and hurt you. He immediately blames himself.

There's no time to beat himself up over it, though. He briefly checks to make sure you're not bleeding from anywhere vital and sends you (or locks you up) somewhere safe before going after the victim. You're on your own for first aid for now - unless you're literally dying, he can't let them leave the property.

If you are literally dying, he's staying and doing all he can to help you. But if Hoyt yells, he may have to pawn you off on someone else and hope they do a good job taking care of you. He'll hold your face and give you tender kisses goodbye - whether you want them or not - because this might be the last time he ever sees you.

He chases the victim in a fever, much more erratic than you would expect from him. He's faster, less careful, more inclined to put himself at risk just to get a swing in at them. It's not generally anything personal when he kills someone - it's something he does for the good of his family, and because he was told to. This one he's not interested in saving for meat. They hurt you. You, his special person. He's going to grind them into the mud, and he's not even going to let Hoyt have a go at them.

Sometimes, sometimes, he struggles to see the animals in his victims. But this one ... he doesn't even feel the urge to twist them into an animal. That's a whole human, an evil one, one he wants to kill. It's a different feeling for him.

Once it's all over and everything's calmed down, he's rushing directly to your side. People don't come around all too often, so he's comfortable putting down the chainsaw for now. He neglects any skin projects he planned and lets someone else do the butchering, focusing on taking care of you, especially if you're seriously injured and put up in bed.

If you're not as seriously injured and tell him you're fine, he's still keeping an eye on you ... and making sure you're well-fed. You've been through a lot and it was all his fault. He doesn't want you to be exposed like that again. Next time someone comes around, he'll insist you hide somewhere.

Jason Voorhees

It's a toss up whether or not he'll actually notice you're hurt. Not because he doesn't care or anything, but because Camp Crystal Lake is a lot of ground to cover and there's a low chance he'll be in the same area as you at any given time.

For this imagine, though, let's assume you've found your way to him or he's sensed you're in trouble and has rushed to you.

You were supposed to be safe in the cabin, so he's a little irritated that you wandered out, but that's completely overshadowed when he realizes you're hurt. He stops everything he's doing and clinically and thoroughly pats you down, identifying every solitary injury.

Just like his mother before him, he is a vengeful soul, so he is not letting this go even if you're just scraped or bruised. If you are critically injured, he'll at least get you to the cabin and get a tourniquet on you.

Otherwise, he leaves you behind. Not very mindful, but you should know that he wants you to get back to the cabin or at least stay out of the way. He is no longer thinking of you - he has established his target and knows what he has to do. He's laser focused and decisive as he stalks after them, using anything at his disposal to get to them.

Their death is quick - he doesn't play around - but he has a lingering sense of irony and playfulness. If there's a particularly interesting weapon nearby, he'll take them out with that; or perhaps he'll hurt them in the way they hurt you, just, you know ... more fatal. And a lot gorier.

After that, he'll move onto their friends, until every last one is dead. Once his objective is completed, he is returning to you directly and finishing the job of patching you up.

He can't help but feel a little guilty that you were hurt. You shouldn't have left the cabin, true, but perhaps he should have been watching for you. He should have locked you up. Pamela might say rude things in his head. Then again, she might comfort him. If she doesn't like you, maybe she'll even wish he'd left you to die.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Well ... you usually keep him around to scare off other Ghostfaces - something he's very handy at - but you don't usually run into trouble with his victims.

He doesn't really tell you to go anywhere in particular when he's killing. He knows you can take care of yourself. But now he feels stupid for not having a backup plan. Of course some asshole was gonna eventually identify you as his loved one and try to get cute. He should've had something prepared for that.

But, if he's good at anything, it's improvising. He skids into whatever room you're in, drops his weapon, and pulls his mask off right away to check you over. If you're only mildly injured, he's visibly relieved, and tells you to stay put while he deals with whomever hurt you. If you're more seriously injured, he'll grab your phone and shove it in your hand. "Get in the car, get the fuck out of here. Drive to the emergency room if you have to, just leave."

If you're unable to drive, he'll make you call emergency services - or call them for you, if he has to. The game is over, he's done playing; this isn't fun if he's not winning. Everyone in this place is gonna be dead and he'll be long gone by the time the ambulance shows up for you.

The one who hurt you is going to get an extra special surprise. A particularly grisly death, and a bunch of selfies/short videos of Ghostface with the corpse - taken with the victim's own phone, posted to their instagram, tiktok, facebook, sent to any discord groups, and any other social media they have. If he has the time, he'll even make them in meme formats (definitely posting with meme captions, the fucking troll). He'll probably send a copy to you as a "hey, look what I did!"

If there are survivors, especially if that survivor is the one who hurt you, you better believe he is immediately doxxing them. Since he's had a little time to cool down, he might even play the long game, maybe catfishing and blackmailing them. Ruining their pathetic little life even further would be pretty fun. In the end, though, they'll die like all the others.

When all is said and done, he's going to be there for you, helping you recover any way he can. He'd suggest rest (for an amount of time relative to your injury), some movies and candy, maybe some video games. And time spent with your favorite Ghostface, of course, right?

He'll never forget what happened, though. Even though the person is dead, he'll be stewing and pissed off about it for a long, long time. And he won't let something like that happen again, or at least, not without a contingency plan in place.

The hash mark/tally mark he stitches into his costume to symbolize this kill is gonna be twice as long and large as the others, maybe in the place you got hurt as a reminder.

Erik

You already know what's about to happen.

If anyone so much as hurts your feelings they're getting menaced and receiving a strongly worded letter - actually physically harming you? That's suicide.

If he can't immediately kill this person, or if you're seriously injured, his primary objective is helping/comforting you. He has to push down a lot of wrath to do it ... every instinct tells him to immediately dispatch the fiend responsible ... but you are more important to him than anything in this world, even revenge. He will administer any first aid you need and may even drug you with ether to ensure you rest.

Don't think that means your attacker is off the hook, though. As soon as he decides you're well enough, he will put you somewhere safe - lock you away if he has to - and kill them. His preferred method is the Punjab lasso, but if they did something particularly egregious, he'll knock them out and take them to his torture chamber. They have a lesson to learn before they go to Hades.

Another option is, like Deacon, playing the long game ... playing with his food, stalking them, making them live in fear before they die. But he has a lot of wrath in that skinny little body, so it's a toss up as to whether or not he'll actually be able to follow through with that for very long. It depends on his mood, really!

He will keep the killing and torture hidden from you, of course ... unless you express an interest in seeing the vengeance being carried out. He would be worried for you, however, and advise against it. Those sights are not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for someone as beautiful and good as you.

Once all is said and done, it's as if it never happened. As if that person never existed! What a happy thought! Sometimes you even think Erik has completely forgotten the incident ... until he's stalking another victim and he locks you away again, and you remember you are always on his mind. He will never, never let that happen to you again.

#imagines #walter sullivan #walter sullivan x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #erik the phantom #phantom x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher community

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

#this is so long #origins smp #originssmp #ranboo #tubbo #philza #philza minecrft #sneegsnag #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit #help this is so long

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders​ 

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you

[13uswntimagines]

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog​

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest. 

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck. 

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt. 

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.  

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen. 

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman. 

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia. 

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.” 

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around). 

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.” 

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK. 

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.” 

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly. 

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?” 

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,” 

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration. 

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran. 

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.” 

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest. 

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.” 

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone. 

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response. 

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?” 

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,” 

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,” 

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart. 

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally. 

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,” 

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business. 

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued. 

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned. 

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.” 

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?” 

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.” 

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now. 

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar. 

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,” 

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.” 

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight. 

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore. 

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms. 

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.” 

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled. 

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.” 

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,” 

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.” 

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships). 

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level. 

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you. 

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #alyssa naeher imagine #alyssa naeher x reader

[mmvalentine]

Hey. Can you write a canon divergence where feyre runs into Issac when she visits her family in acomf and jealous Rhys👀

A little 'fresh mating bond' feysand? Oh yes. Yes I can.

We're All Just Animals

We arrived in the human world a day before the meeting with the mortal queens. Now that we were mated, Rhys was voicing a new interest in the village where I grew up, and wanted to spend a day walking around my old town. More importantly, we wanted time to walk around with each other in a place where we didn't get stopped every other minute to be congratulated by doting citizens. With the bond so fresh we... weren't always up for being around other people for extended periods of time and avoided being caught in casual conversations.

So there we were, wandering the market place like newlyweds. At home, I had put a stop to Rhys buying me lavish gowns and precious jewels. Leave the hoarding to Amren, I always said. But here I let him spoil me with trinkets from local vendors: wooden rings, pressed flowers, and spun sugar in the shapes of birds.

To our great satisfaction, no one approached us. No one knew who we were or wanted to make small talk. I supposed I looked very different now to what I used to- where I had been a pale, dirty starveling last I lived here, I was now fae with decadent meals every day and months of Illyrain training. If I walked past nineteen year old me, I'm sure she wouldn't recognise me.

But Isaac Hale did.

"Feyre?" he called.

"Isaac!" I beamed. Since Rhys and I had been mated, it felt like everything delighted me. Despite the looming tensions with Hybern, I was just so deliriously happy, and the feeling was as intoxicating as it was unfamiliar.

Isaac? Rhys echoed in my mind. He knew exactly who Isaac was.

"How are you?" I asked him. "Where's your lovely wife?"

"I'm good. She's at home," Isaac said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to not stare too hard at me. I remembered how it felt to be dazzled by the beauty of the fae, and I felt a little sorry for him.

"I'm supposed to be bringing home a bag of salt and a few other spices," Isaac said. "Should we walk together?"

Ice crackled into my veins, starting where Rhys's hand held mine and shooting through my arm to my heart. I glanced at him, and if his grip hadn't turned vice-like, you couldn't tell that he was bothered at all.

The mating bond was a strange thing. The ever calm, ever suave Rhys I knew was consumed by the possessive instincts of evolutions past, and I wondered in the last few days where his reasonable self had gone to. I was all too aware of his absolute intolerance of males around me- even his own brothers, sometimes.

"Sure," I said, smiling beatifically at Isaac.

Then again, maybe the mating bond did strange things to me, too.

We turned and strolled down the street together, and as we did, Rhys's hand slipped from mind and slid round my waist instead. Tugged me into his side, and dug a little too hard into my flesh.

"So," he said, his voice perfectly light. "Isaac is it?"

"Yes," Isaac blinked, as if only now becoming aware of Rhys. My smile grew slightly wider, while Rhys beside me only got colder. I couldn't deny the rush I felt when Rhys got like this. When I could make Rhys like this. "I'm an... old friend of Feyre's."

"Funny," Rhys said casually. "I'd never heard of you."

Liar, I shot at Rhys. His talons scraped against the shield of my mind, found purchase and latched on. I shivered.

Isaac chuckled good-naturedly. "Ah, well, I suppose that makes sense, given... ah, our relationship." Wrong answer.

The talons twitched tighter, and the edges of my vision blurred for a second. I swatted at them, and they loosened again.

"It's been a long time," Isaac said quickly, noting the way Rhys and I walked together, the way Rhys was holding on to me.

"Too long," I purred. "We were going to stop by the tavern for a drink, if you'd like to join us." Rhys stopped dead in his tracks.

Feyre, he murmured, dangerously low.

"That would be lovely," Isaac said, and only noticed a second too late that Rhys's expression had lost all pretense at civility and was now openly hostile.

Rhys, I mimicked.

"Fantastic," Rhys said, eyes sparking. "Lead the way then." He gestured dramatically out in front and Isaac, now wildly uncertain, glanced at me before walking ahead of us.

What are you doing? I asked Rhys.

Going for a drink with your ex-lover, apparently, Rhys replied. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

He's an old friend, I reasoned. Don't kill him.

Rhys's eyes slid sideways to mine. Feyre I know you what you're doing.

I blinked innocently back at him. I don't know what you're talking about.

I pried his talons off my mind primly, and they sulked away.

I hadn't been to the local tavern since leaving the human world. It was dark and dingy just like I remembered- although my fae nose now picked up scents that I really didn't need amplified.

There were tall barrels dotted around the room that stood in as tables, and in the centre of the space were a couple of worn couches. We picked up our mugs of ale and sat down on one of the latter. I had Rhys on my left, and I leaned my back against his shoulder as I turned to Isaac. Isaac set his drink on the low table, and sat down on my other side. Moved a little further away when a low warning growl emanating from Rhys as soon as his backside hit the cushion.

"How are your sisters?" Isaac asked, now clearly uncomfortable. Rhys's arms slid around my middle, and his chin rested on my shoulder.

"They're doing well," I told him. "They're much more comfortable since my father's trade has picked up."

"Yes, I've been glad to see your family's good fortune return," Isaac said. He reached for his mug, which happened to be near my knee. Rhys's teeth snapped loudly next to my ear, and I slapped his thigh lightly.

"Behave," I said mildly. I reached up and stroked his hair without looking at him, and he moved his head to touch his nose to my palm.

Isaac, on the other hand, was looking at Rhys with wide eyes and had snatched his hand back so fast you'd think the tankard was on fire. Without a drink, he rubbed his hands together awkwardly. I picked up my own mug, and slid Isaac's across to him at the same time. The taste was sawdust on my lips now, but Isaac drank his down quickly.

"See the Archerons often, do you Isaac?" Rhys asked lightly. He was now circling his nails on my knee, and they were just a bit too sharp. I could feel it all the way up my legs. A craving for more, more, more of Rhys's touch stoked in my belly. Isaac blanched a little at how Rhys's mood seemed to be lurching.

"Uh, no, but the family is well known around town, of course."

Dear gods, I thought. His hands are actually shaking around his ale.

Rhys saw this too, and his gaze went straight to them.

"I see," was all he said, and then he pulled me right into his lap. I would have objected, it was far too intimate for this public setting. But then his hands squeezed on my hips and I realised he was hard beneath me, and all thoughts emptied out of my head. I shifted my hips automatically.

Isaac tipped back the rest of his ale, and stood hurriedly.

"Well," he said. "It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Feyre."

I held out my hand and he touched my fingers. Rhys went deathly still around me, and as soon as Isaac turned to leave Rhys was up and walking me roughly across the floor. Down the hall toward the staircase that led up to the rooms, where the shadows were dense and we were away from the main room. Then he spun me roughly and pushed me toward the wall, where my hands caught me and my breath came fast. Rhys threw up a shield so hard it cracked the beam on the ceiling, and then he had his lips on the back of my neck and his hands pushing up my skirts.

"Mine," Rhys snarled in my ear. His nails raked up the backs of my thighs and I gasped at the sensation. "You're fucking mine." And then with no further preamble he yanked my hips back toward him and sank himself inside me.

I cried out with the sudden movement, and then a wild little laugh escaped me.

"Oh so you think it's funny, do you?" Rhys asked, and started fucking me with his hands tight on my hips.

"A little," I said breathlessly. "Are you jealous of a young mortal man?"

"No," Rhys growled, and one of his hands landed on the wall next to mine, bracing as his pace increased. "No I'm not jealous of that boy."

"Then what's- oh, mmm what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is you're my mate and no one, fucking no one gets to touch you but me." He punctuated his sentence with sharp thrusts of his hips. I arched my back to get him deeper, and his teeth gripped my neck at the junction of my shoulder.

"Well make me yours then," I said, and the words set Rhys off into a frenzy. His hands slid over my chest and squeezed my breasts on top my clothes, and he was fucking me so hard I could barely breathe.

"You wanna be mine?" Rhys panted. "Fuck me back." I moaned and tried to keep up with the hurtling pace he had set. "That's it," Rhys said. "Fuck me back and come on my cock."

Indeed the pleasure was piling fast now, and I gloried in this unhinged, savage version of Rhys that so rarely got let out. Now, mating bond in hand, I had its collar on the end of my leash and I loved it.

My head fell back against Rhys's shoulder and caught my ear lobe between his teeth. My hand reached for my clit, but Rhys stopped me and put both my hands firmly on the wall in front of me. Then his own fingers slid between my thighs and his tongue continued under my ear in time with his hand.

"Come on my cock Feyre," he said roughly. "Do it. Do it now."

And my body knew who it was answering to. My climax stuttered out of me and I spasmed in the cage of his arms. Rhys tightened around me as he fell into release too, and we were shaking and shuddering and coming apart against the dull wood of the tavern.

Rhys rested his forehead on the top of my shoulder while we caught our breath, and then he cleaned us up with a wave. The sounds of the crowd floated back in as the shield protecting us dissolved, and Rhys grinned against my beck as he hugged me once more into his chest.

"Such a wicked, cruel mate," he purred. I turned my head to kiss him, far too pleased with myself, before walking back out in front of him.

I ran straight into a man with as much ale on his breath as was left in his mug.

"Oh hello sweetheart," he said.

And Rhys stepped up behind me and gave such a feral growl that the man backed away very fast.

"Home," he gritted out, and I kissed him hard on the mouth as he winnowed.

****

It occurs to me that I could also have done a whole bit about Rhys reading Isaac's memories of Feyre in the barn, but also it's 11.24pm you get what you get 😂

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars

#asks #prompt fill #feysand #feysand fic #acotar #mine #smut

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 10

First

Previous

Grocery store trips were weird. Tim had never taken them before, and now here he was buying food for the three of them regularly. He’d thought it would be harder, for some reason. But, no, it was just boring.

Tim rolled his eyes as Damian pointed to the nearest brightly colored object -- a bag of Not Cheetos… holy shit they were called Fritos this wasn’t allowed he has never been so vehemently against anything in his life.

He sighed as the baby yelled at him for the bag. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have gone in the chip aisle.

He looked down at the kid in front of him with an apologetic smile.

“No, kiddo. See, I would love to get that for you but, unfortunately, Mari said I can’t buy you any more random sweets. Blame her, not me.”

Damian was, apparently, too smart for his tricks because he banged his fist on the front of the cart and babbled at him angrily.

Tim sighed and leaned forward until his forehead touched the cool metal of the cart, thinking.

And then he got back up and handed the kid the bag of chips. Damian didn't know that it was food, Tim was pretty sure, and he had nothing against… ‘Fritos’ (outside of their name, obviously). So, why not? He could eat them. It was better than dealing with a tantrum in the middle of a store, at least.

Damian lit up and hugged the bag to his chest as if it was a soft stuffed animal and not a plastic bag filled with air and maybe a few chips.

Tim smiled faintly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head and then continued on his way, scanning over the list idly.

Oh. Marinette had added something. He squinted down at her messy scrawl, bringing it close to his face as if he could will the words to make sense.

And it worked. Ha. Take that everyone who didn’t believe in him.

Okay. So, she needed ‘pads’.

Sure. No problem.

He walked over to the aisle.

Hm. Okay. There might be a tiny little problem.

Why were there so many different brands? And sizes?

He stared around at them all helplessly. Sure, he had glimpsed the box a few times but he certainly hadn’t paid it much mind -- it wasn’t for him, why would he?! But now he was standing in an entire aisle full of products and there were way too many of them. And why did they all look the same? Shit!

He looked at Damian, who was biting the edge of the chip bag and giggling about the crinkling noises it made. But, once Tim turned his gaze on him, he looked up at him with wide eyes, attentive.

“Any chance you know what type Mari uses?” Tim joked softly.

Damian popped off the chip bag so he could babble at him. It was very helpful.

He considered, very briefly, just standing there in the aisle with the same helpless expression until some kind-hearted person took pity on him and he could avoid the embarrassment of calling Marinette at work to ask what types of pads she used… but, no, the idea of asking some random person for help was way worse. He had to just suck it up and do it.

He pulled out his phone and called Marinette. He was pretty sure it was lunchtime for her, anyways.

She picked up within a few rings, voice slightly muffled as she answered with a simple: “Problem?”

Tim didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or amused that her first thought when he called her was that something was wrong.

But he quickly alleviated her fears: “No, everything’s fine.”

He could hear the phone shift slightly as she assumedly went back to eating. “Right, then what is it?”

“Nothing bad, really…” Tim started awkwardly. His face reddened without his permission. “Just wanted to know what brand you used for, um, hygiene products.”

“... hyg --? Oh.” He heard her laugh at him and his face only reddened further. “What, the world's greatest detective couldn’t figure it out?”

“That’s my dad!” He mumbled a little huffily.

She snickered a little longer before finally saying: “I think the brand is called ‘Forever’ here.”

“See! You don’t even know!” He said even as he pulled down a box with the word written across it in elegant script.

“That’s because the name changed when --...” She seemed to remember she was at work -- or, at least, that there were other people around -- because she cut herself off suddenly before she could admit to being a dimension hopper in a world that likely wouldn’t even believe in the multiverse. “When… I switched brands! Yeah. Heh.”

(Tim swore he heard her mumble ‘technically not even a lie’ but he wasn’t quite sure.)

He started to put it in the basket but then he paused.

“There’s a lot of sizes.”

“Um… I think a four?”

“Yeah, no, they have letters here.”

“Fuck, right, hate that, um… D, I guess.”

He switched out the Cs he had gotten and smiled as Damian reached for him. He clearly wanted out of the cart -- Tim wondered, vaguely, if it was uncomfortable -- but that wasn’t going to happen so he decided to distract him:

“Want to talk to Mari, kiddo?”

The kid blinked up at him a few times before lighting up. “Mar-ree!”

He pressed the phone to Damian’s ear with one hand until the kid took it himself and then motioned for him to go ahead. “Takalam maeaha.”

“... marhaba?” Damian said, giving Tim a look that seemed to scream ‘you’re weird for making me talk into a box’.

Marinette must have said something back, because the kid’s eyes went wide. Damian looked around wildly for a few moments, clearly trying to figure out where Marinette was, before he realized that her voice was coming from the box. He gasped a little and pressed the phone against his ear even harder and started to ‘talk’ to her. It was a weird mix of Arabic and a few English syllables thrown together haphazardly, Tim was just glad he was learning.

Tim started on his way through the store again, sure he wasn’t going to get his phone back anytime soon.

He’d gotten all the necessities and they had money left in the weekly budget...

He headed to the kid’s aisle, head tipping from side to side as he considered what to get. Maybe a new book? Damian had taken a liking to them, though Tim was pretty sure that was more because he thought the English language sounded kind of funny rather than any real passion for stories.

He picked up a book about letters and looked down at Damian. He sounded annoyed now.

He looked at Tim with an annoyed expression and shook Tim’s poor phones a few times. “Mar-ree!”

Ah. She must have hung up because her break was over.

How was he supposed to explain how phones worked to a baby? Especially since he knew phones so intimately thanks to his time working on the model he was using.

He gently pulled the phone from the kid’s hands. “Mari’s at work. You can see her later.”

“Bu…” Damian pouted.

Damn it. How dare the kid be cute? Tim was about five seconds away from walking to Marinette’s job so the kid would smile again.

He hesitated before reaching behind himself and grabbing the first soft thing his hands landed on. He pulled it out and squinted at the stuffed cat. It was cute, he supposed, but he didn’t know why it was rainbow-colored.

Whatever.

He offered the plush to Damian and the kid seemed to instantly forget about the phone.

(And the chips. But the kid had put it in his mouth so it looked like Tim was buying that anyway.)

He pressed a kid to the top of his head and then continued on his way.

… and that was when he heard it:

Haha, someone got called a DILF.

… wait a minute… he was the only person with a kid around here…

His head whipped around so fast he would have gotten whiplash if he was old -- which he wasn’t -- to see two girls in their mid teens. And they were definitely looking at him. They even tried to hide behind the next aisle in order to avoid his gaze once they realized he had heard them.

Tim didn’t know what to do about this. Someone had actually called him...

He was 19! He couldn’t be that yet! How?! No!

And, sure, the logical part of him knew they were technically right. He was attractive (he hoped) and, when it came to the ‘dad’ thing… if Damian never got his memories back, then Tim would pretty much be the only dad that he had ever known. He would be a dad.

But, again, he was 19-years-old, he didn’t want to think about this.

So, to ward off the impending crisis, he looked around the aisle he was in wildly for some kind of ‘kid’ thing.

He found some marshmallow guns and grabbed two. Then he got some marshmallows because those weren’t included for some reason. Whatever.

He looked down at the basket, aware that he was now over budget, and eventually decided to put back the book. Who needs to learn?

(Besides, if Damian really wanted to just hear people talk, Tim could totally do that. He had so many random facts in his head thanks to random rabbit holes he had gone down while sleep-deprived, he could just rant about those if the kid wanted.)

So, he checked out, loaded up with all the bags and the baby, and started walking home.

… he was totally going to learn to drive. Even if Gotham streets were safer -- especially when he had a baby on him -- it was a pain to carry all the groceries even the few blocks to their apartment. Literally. The bags dug into his skin. He swore he could taste blood.

But he had an end goal in sight, so he went faster than usual that day.

He set up the guns, leaving Marinette’s on the kitchen table and then took a seat on the couch with Damian. They spent the few remaining hours playing games (Tim was pretty sure, he had absolutely no clue what Damian was saying but the kid seemed to have fun and that was all that mattered) and watching TV.

Tim heard his door click and looked up.

He quickly reached for the marshmallow gun and turned to point it at the door.

Damian watched him in silence, perfectly still as if he understood that this was something that they needed to be quiet for.

Usually, this kind of worried Tim. They always gave Damian to Kaalki and Tikki when they sparred, but Damian had always been… shockingly well-behaved? Not in the good way, either, he was far too still and quiet. Tim was starting to suspect that, at the very least, the kid remembered the first year of his life in the League. He hoped that the trauma would fade away with time. Kids forget things that they experienced as babies when they grew older, Tim himself couldn’t remember anything from before he was three, so hopefully this would be the same.

… but he really wanted to get Marinette with a marshmallow gun. So, he swallowed down the slight bit of anxiety rising in his chest and looked through the scope as Marinette finally managed to open the finicky door.

Damian’s eyes widened and he made a quiet ‘ah!’ sound.

Tim jumped at the sudden sound and pulled the trigger. The marshmallow gun made a fmpf sound as it fired off the shot.

The marshmallow bounced off of Marinette’s forehead harmlessly. Because, y’know, it was a marshmallow.

She blinked a few times and then knelt down to pick up the fallen marshmallow. She scanned it over a few times, eyes narrowed.

Tim hardly paid attention to her, looking over at Damian. The kid looked very confused, eyes darting between the gun and Marinette and the marshmallow on the floor repeatedly as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

And then he flopped back on the sofa with a quiet whimpering sound.

Marinette and Tim frowned at each other. He could see confusion and concern knitting her eyebrows together, meanwhile all he had was dread coiling itself in his gut. Because… what if Damian did remember his first year with the League? Or, even worse, what if he would slowly regain all his memories? No kid deserved that...

Tim felt something hit the side of his head, snapping him out of his daze. Oh. Marinette had grabbed the other gun and promptly gotten her revenge.

Damian didn’t see this, at least, just staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Marinette sat on Damian’s other side, gently picking him up and nuzzling her nose against his cheek. Then, she sat him back down between them, sidling close so the kid could curl into her side. Tim, after a few seconds, scooted closer as well.

“Want some marshmallows? They’re yummy,” she tried hesitantly.

She shot one into her hand and, after tearing it in half just in case, handed it to Damian.

The kid took a hesitant bite, still looking a little put out, but then he gasped a little. He happily chewed away at the marshmallow, the event easily wiped from his mind in favor of the yummy thing in his hand.

Tim sighed in relief, reaching behind himself for the marshmallow bag so they wouldn’t have to shoot any more. Just in case.

“Quick thinking,” he said, which was kind of a compliment if you squinted.

She smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s what I’m known for.”

There was a few seconds before she sighed just a little, gently combing her fingers through Damian’s hair. The kid reached out and gripped Tim’s shirt in his hand, surely getting it messed up thanks to the marshmallow on his hands but whatever, and tried to tug him closer. He obliged. Marinette rested her head on his shoulder absently.

“What would I do without you?” He mused.

“Probably starve on the streets,” she said bluntly.

He scoffed a little. “The minute this kid goes to sleep I’m going to shoot another marshmallow at you.”

“You can try. Only reason you even got me last time was ‘cause I didn’t know you were going to do it.”

“The element of surprise is a totally valid tactic!” He pretended to whine.

She grinned at him. “But it won’t work again.”

He wrapped an arm around her lazily. “We’ll see.”

~~~~~

Next

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#pads..... of paper?? #nearly made tim go #do with this information what you will #into the unknown #maribat #tim drake #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug

[i-need-air]

Hey it's me again ❤️

I'm just gonna whisper something in your mind (is that even possible?)

Having a baby with Hybrid Katsuki.

Just that. Imagine girl. Perfection.

Ok, real talk here. Every time I see a request from you I uwu a little bit bc I know for a fact whatever you're requesting will make me get so immersed and involved and I'm gonna 💕💞AAAAAA💕💞 while writing AND [lemmecatchmybreath] it happened once again skdjdkfkf Hope you enjoy and sorry it took longer than normal~

Word count: 1.8k

× listen 🥺 I already started and I'm melting, ok?

× when he finds out you're having a smol baby together?

× he freezes and looks at you in a whole different light

× if you're getting pregnant, he will definitely smell the change in your scent and will know even before you do; he'd be instantly by your side with a bewitched expression on his face, taking your cheeks into his palms to just soak everything in yet he's shaking slightly

× and even if you adopt [hopefully a smol hybrid], something deep inside of Katsuki, burried and long forgotten surfaces

× this is the life he always wanted, he always craved even in his darker moments

× this happiness, this fulfillment, this joy

× I absolutely believe he will diligently read and learn everything about the baby to come; will educate himself like no other, deciding to be the very best father he could ever be

× his life was rough and he was stolen away from his biological family, he will now have a chance to have his own and he will not fail you or the baby

× when you hold the little bundle of sunshine in your hands, head down admiring the beauty of a new life, he will stand there, again in shock, again soaking this moment in... so beautiful, so perfect

× will he ever tell you that? of course not; angry ass wild pomeranian—

× but his face gives him away every single time and when you tilt yourself to hand him his new son or daughter, he falls in love for the second time in his life;

× he burries his nose in the soft and fragile skin of the baby's head and breathes in, his instinct kicking in to defend, protect, care, look out for...

× watch carefully because once the baby makes a noise, he'll still, unsure of what to do, but smile so softly as the baby coos in his arms securely; that right there is the best image you can have of soft Katsuki.

× the first few weeks are actually horrible, sorry to break it to everyone aksjskdj not because he doesn't know what to do or does not want to help; on the contrary, he is so incredibly attentive but he also recites the books he learned by memory at this point and it's getting absolutely infuriating;

× although understand him, please; he wants to prove he's a good dad 🥺 except you wanna smack him bc he scoffs if you suggest something he isn't sure about.

× you will find him standing by the baby's crib as it sleeps; he's just???? making sure this is not a dream????? don't question anything though

× can we hc Bakugou with a daughter too? [ already established in the Hybrid!Kiri hcs that Kiri'd have daughter bUT i just really really like beefy men with tiny daughters;;; my heartttt;;; ]

× his little angel, no discussion, no argument, his daughter can do NO WRONG!

× he's very down to earth though, don't get me wrong, he just absolutely adores spoiling her

× speaks softly into her ear, the lowest you'd hear from him

× gruff, raspy, gutural voice ofter overused to scream now low and soft as he holds her into his chest; doesn't do baby-voices or anything like that, but calls her his angel then smirks at you if you're watching;;; then starts softly complaining and bitching about you to the baby 💀 all while rubbing her back

× omfg his hand is as big as her tiny back; guys, call an ambulance, I'm—

× Katsuki would be the type of little shit to pull what I just said then grab you and glue you to his chest too; he'd look down at you both, eyes shining in such adoration he'd take your breath away just before he continues his ranting about you;

× once the baby starts being more interactive, her giggles specially the ones induced by her daddy will make him melt; absolute diminute baby with a small wiggling tail clapping her chubby hands at her dad? his eyes would widen suddently, ears snapping high in surprise and he's taken back by the emotions overtaking him

× he's gone, man; she has him wrapped around her tiny little finger and you can't do anything about it

× instantly acts all in denial if someone is around though; scoffs to hide is obvious smile, placing a palm on his mouth to further block it out and tickles her with the other, earning another fit of giggles

× please, don't tell him his whole tail is waving from side to side

× the only clear giveaway apart from his ears and it's;;; a d o r a b l e;;;

× specially when your daughter also starts wagging her tail in response whenever he does it;

× "Hey, come see what the dumbass is doing!" or "Look at what she did" while showing you a video; proud pappa 🥺

× we're bringing back Proud Bakugou bc hIS DAUGHTER iS tHe BeSt; no, seriously, his kid is the mf best in the world and he will start this presentation with—

× now sit down with me and accept this: the baby; yes, your sweet daughter; mhm, that adorable screeching angel; mhm;;; she'll talk so early it's disturbing.

× at 6 months or so she's already saying mamma, dadda, kitty, woof-woof

× seriously terrifying how sharp she is and how she cannot shut up; for the love of gOd, Katsuki, this is all your fault... it doesn't matter, he just smirks as he has another reason to brag to anyone about his child

× did that street vendor look at him funny? "I'M GONNA FUCKING TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAUGHTER—"

× super-protective of her and fucking hates with a burning passion if anyone dares to do that thing where they match up babies saying "Maybe they'll get married when they grow up"

× hands down, no filter, he just looks deep down in whoever had the audacity and says "Like fucking shit they'd deserve her."

× drag him away before he throws fists

× he will definitely if you don't drag him away and you know it, they know it, the baby knows it and cheers for pappa, the whole world knows it at this point and they're buying tickets to watch the shitshow

× chest carrier and walks around with the kid like a boss

× man has shit to do, don't even dare to judge him;

× handles fits really well, he's impressive to say at least

× she's spoiled, yes and always has new toys, coloring books, whatever she wants but the moment she throws fits, he puts his foot down

× baby would be smol angery bb all adorable in all her Bakugou genetics anger and he'd just stare, tapping his foot

× literally waits in place until she calms and looks up at him with big, round eyes, puffy red cheeks and ears lowered

× mission accomplished; he nods then picks her up;

× and you're there amazed??????

× "The fuck you lookin' at?" lil shit still has a foul mouth tho, but make him get just as pouty and embarrassed as the child in his arms by saying something cheesy like "How amazing you are as a dad 💕"

× all rainbows and unicorns until she starts repeating insults and fr tho, Katsu almost shits his pants, fearing your reaction. Will, hands down, chill out with the insults even if he meant no damage with them; he has this unreadable expression on, a mix of shame and fluster, dread too? he's sorry, ok????

× loves, loves, loves cooking for you both and once the kiddo has her own special chair to sit at the dining table together, that's when he sees it: his dream

× you, wiping some food off her cheek with a loving expression, talking about your day casually, baby giggling while she moves her face away playfully; he loves you both so much.

× has these rare moments where, at the end of the day once you're settled in bed, he'd hug you tight and thank you in his mind for... for this... all of it...

× once she starts walking they're both a disaster

× seriously, do not expect the household to be silent ever again [ well, that dream was gone long ago anyway lol ]

× "Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?"

× rapid giggle running around from place to place

× "Oh, for fucks—"

× "Katsuki." you only need to say, catching him in his insults

× 😳 ... "Kid, come back, we're goin' to the park." Skdjkdfkl

× sudden adorable tiny fast steps approach him bc they're going for walkies!

× he is very careful with her and teaches her about stranger danger; also teaches her how to growl and even if her attempt is a total failure, small rawr leaving her lips, he's like "Yes. Good job. Now give it more heart."

× he growls as an example

× she growls back, sounding like a cute lil pup 🥺💕

× as she grows up, she obviously acts more like her father yet he knows when to stop the bad behaviors and it only takes a warning growl from him to get her to cease

× yet somehow you're the strict parent at the end of the day??????? tf????????? who made the rules??????

× starts calling her brat, squirt, lil shit 💕lovingly💕

× "your child" if she did something bad

× "Your fucking child kicked the ball into the vase and broke it." Aha, nice one, Katsuki. Good job.

× not to brag but her puppy eyes don't work on him but yours do; the problem is her puppy eyes do work on you bc she's the light of your life so if she wants something; she'll puppy-eye you knowing you'll get it for her bc daddy loves you very much 💕💞

× literally evil mastermind; didn't I tell you she's sharp? pft, she's playing you both so hard

× every day he comes back from work she runs to him at the door, tail wiggling happily behind her as she stretches her arms to be picked up and he always does, without a doubt, then proceeds to kiss the top of her head

× come out to greet him too? the whole loving routine is his absolute thing and wants to see you, have you kiss his cheek; he complains but adores it soooooo much!

× you have a family night; BONDING WITH MOODY POMERANIANS. Yes, plural, and it sounds perfect~

× even if it's just one of those animated movies he hates so much, he'll watch through all of it and make sarcastic comments just to make you both laugh; will grin satisfied asf if he manages to do so bc he's the best.

× will definitely want another kid, so how about maybe a boy??? hmm???

× asks you if you're up for the idea and if you agree, he'll roll his eyes and crack his shoulders, acting so very uninterested and purely exhausted yet his smirk would give him away:

× "Knew you'd torture me with another devil"

× throw him out, istg— 💀

#bakugou katsuki headcanons #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #hybrid!bakugou #hybrid!au

[hotdamnhunnam]

Eat My Crow

A/N: So who else is obsessed with jealous Jax?!? 🤤 This fic is based on the two below requests – in which you and Jax make each other jealous and end up having a huge fight over it, followed by super hot makeup sex!

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, ANGSTY ANGST, rough sex, possessive jealous dom!Jax Request: Two separate anon requests – (1) & (2)

Word Count: ~2.5k

So you married a snack. There’s no problem with that. You’ve accepted the fact that your husband, the crown prince of Charming, is going to strut his fine ass around town calling everyone darlin’ and flashing his signature slut-magnet smile, ‘cause that’s just his style. You’ve gotten quite used to it now after being his wife for a while.

But the problem with Jax... well, he’s more than a snack. He’s a whole fucking feast. He’s a goddamn buffet, on display every day, all-you-can-fucking-eat. And the bitches attack when he walks down the street. You’ve been taking this shit in stride, telling yourself it’s alright. And it is, you decide. Because it’s gotta be. Even when he flirts back, he’s assuring you constantly that no one else means a thing to him, honestly. 

Babe, it’s just business. I promised you my pussy-hounding days are finished. And I mean it. Really do. Ever since you and I started this, I’ve never thought of sex with anybody else, not for a minute. Have you even seen yourself? So fucking beautiful you’re on another level. No crow eater could ever get my dick so wet and take it so damn well. I’m serious. The whole Cara Cara crew doesn’t got shit on you. Fuck all those whores. I mean, maybe I did... before. But baby, now my heart is yours, and yours belongs to me too—doesn’t it? Just gotta trust me with it.

And you do believe it’s true, that you’re his one and only princess in a sea of faceless bitches. Jax loves you, and no one else. Love is your witness.

Still... some nights the dirty bastard really tests your fucking limits.

Like tonight. You watch him from across the room and feel the daggers you’ve got glaring from your eyes. He’s flirting up a storm and working all his charms, one pornstar clawing at each arm, while your arch nemesis is practically grinding her pussy up against his thigh. 

What kind of shameless cunt seriously goes by the name of ‘Ima Tite’? Of all the clingy twits who think that Jax will be attracted to their false lashes and fake tits, she’s your absolute least favorite. A couple times she even tried to pick a fight. You always put her in her place, but she can’t seem to stay away...

Just then, an unexpected voice distracts you from your jealous daze. “...Hey.”

You look up from your drink, with a few blinks to chase the daggers from your gaze. This random guy is a new prospect that you recognize; you’ve seen him once or twice. He’s kind of cute, you think, in quite a clueless little fuckboy kind of way.

Though normally you don’t have eyes for anyone but Jax, you force yourself to see this cheap vending machine treat as a satisfying snack. ‘Cause if your man is gonna keep on letting his married ass come under attack... then that’s a game that two can play.

***************

“Babe, you okay?”

You glance up from the bathroom sink to see your husband standing in the doorway. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, trying to hide the true reply that’s shooting from your eyes. Just go away.

“Know there’s no point in ever lying to me, right?” he tells you as he steps inside.

You heave a sigh, meeting your own bitter stare in the mirror, well aware that Jax takes pride in reading your mind. “It’s nothing; I’m just—”

“Sick of seeing me swimming around in a pile of sluts?” he finishes the sentence. Coming through. “Come on, Y/N, just... please don’t let ‘em get to you.”

Already he’s fucking you up with the force of his presence, the way he moves close and surrounds you in his manly scent, drowning you in his essence.

“Babe, you know I hate these pornstar parties just as much as you do. Boob job Barbies aren’t my thing, but I’m taking one for the crew. Apparently letting the girls rub up against the prince of Charming keeps them coming. Keeps the whole damn business up and running. Who knew?”

“I did, for one,” you groan, as he enfolds you in his flannel-clad arms and looks up to lock eyes in the mirror, smiling at the view. “And stop being a cheeky little shit, ‘cause you did too.”

Jax doesn’t fight you on that since it’s too blatantly true. “What do I have to do to prove—”

“That’s just the problem, Jax,” you snap as you reluctantly pull out of his embrace, stepping away, pushing him back. “You shouldn’t have to ‘prove’ your love.”

“Damn right I shouldn’t,” he huffs, not too happy about how you just shoved him off. “But here you’re telling me the way I love you isn’t good enough.”

“No, I’m not,” you mutter, not even wanting to get into the real reason why you’re so mad. Because it doesn’t matter. “I never said that.”

“Think I don’t know how to read between the lines? Told you a thousand times that I will always read your fucking mind.”

“Yeah well, read this, genius,” you hiss, flipping your middle finger in his face. Because of course you’re so fucking mature that way.

The gesture was so pointless that he easily dismisses it, that very instant. “Seriously, Y/N. We talked about this. It’s business. They’re just emp—”

“Empty or not,” you interrupt, ranting without a second thought, “they’re always all over your ass, and you know how I feel about that. Know it pisses me off seeing so many hoes eating my fucking crow.”

Jax rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Babe, they’re not ‘eating’ shit—”

“Yeah, well they’re feeding it. Constantly smothering my husband in a sea of tits. Raking their filthy fingers through your hair, while I’m standing across the room right fucking there.” ... as if I don’t even exist, you finish in your head, not saying that aloud. Not yet.

“So the hell what? You don’t trust me to handle myself around sluts?”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about trust.”

“No, that’s exactly what we’re gonna talk about. ‘Cause clearly you don’t have any in me,” he counters forcefully. “Clearly you still have doubts, when I tell you that all of this business is meaningless, empty—”

“I’ll tell you what’s empty,” you snarl, slamming both hands into his chest aggressively. The suddenness of your attack has him reeling until his kutte-clad back is pressed against the wall. “Your fucking promises. That shit you’d always tell me. Guess all that was also just part of your business.”

Beautiful blue eyes blink at you. Appalled, confused. More than a little shocked. Just what you meant, he has no clue. And he’s ashamed that he can’t see straight through you in this moment, just the way he loves to do. “Y/N, the fuck...?”

Right then, as you’re all set to spell it out for him... you hear a familiar voice just outside the bathroom. Loud enough to hear through the closed door. It’s that fucking whore. She won’t bother to knock, you’re pretty sure. And all of a sudden... the lioness lurking behind the woman in you feels a spiteful kind of urge you’ve never had before.

“I need your cock,” you grunt, which is an honest statement; Jax’s dick is the one thing you’ll always want. No matter how, no matter what. “Like, now. Let’s fuck.”

Jax takes a pause, clenching his jaw, dim lighting glinting off his golden locks. “Babe, we should talk...”

“No, we should not,” you snap, pressing your lips to his to shut him up, heavy and hot. “Fuck that. Just fuck me, Jax.”

And the lust-driven lion in him knows there’s no use trying to fight back. He cedes to your demands, leather and flannel sliding down his flawless body as you pull at them with frantic hands. Giving in passionately to exactly what you want—and in a split second, he’s suddenly the one on the attack.

You rake your fingers through the lustrous head of blonde hair that belongs to you, the way those other bitches love to do. Fuck all those whores. Every last lock is yours, just as his cock is yours, and you both know it’s true.

Once Jax is slamming you against the wall like an insatiable animal, that’s when the bathroom door opens. And Ima stands there gawking for a moment, just as you’d been hoping. Just as you had planned. 

Jax doesn’t even register her presence—far too deeply engrossed in ferociously fucking you over—as you and she briefly make eye contact over his shoulder, you shoot her a fierce, fiery glance. Bitch better back off my fucking man.

Now that you’ve staked your claim, you’re finished with this game.

Jax isn’t done—he hasn’t come—but today, just for once, you decide that you want it to end that way. Allowing him release would grant him victory. 

You’re well aware that you’re being the cattiest, brattiest bitch in fucking history. But maybe you deserve to be. Maybe that’s one of the perks of being queen. You’ve earned the right to whip your claws out and to get a little mean.

“Okay—enough,” you say, pushing him off.

He’s never looked so shocked, still impaling you on his massive monster cock. “Uhhh... what the fuck?”

“Jax, I was just using your ass to make a point in front of one of your crow-eating sluts,” you tell him, clear and blunt. Pretending not to care as you see him flinch in disgust. “And now I’m done. Got what I want.”

He looks incapable of processing the shit you’re dishing out. Stung by each word out of your mouth. Apparently still clueless as to what this is about. 

You know deep down you shouldn’t blame him, but the only other option is to blame yourself. And you just can’t. At least not right this instant. Shit would hurt like fucking hell. He wouldn’t understand. The reason you escaped into the bathroom in the first place, just to wallow in your heartbreak... fuck’s sake, you don’t even fully understand.

Hope he doesn’t notice as you wipe a stray tear with the back of your hand. “Did you hear me or not? Get the fuck out.”

He noticed. Definitely did. Holds back his own somehow. “Y/N, who even are you right now?”

“The fact you have to ask, Jax...” you murmur, pushing him further back. “You wouldn’t have to if you’d only looked at me just once tonight. The way you promised me you always would, right? No matter what? Promised that I’m the only woman in your life, the only face you ever see, even when you’re buried in sluts? Maybe that’s where you really want to be. Because you’re fucking blind, apparently.”

Quietly shoving his unsatisfied dick back inside his pants, he tries to hold you in place with his other hand. “Y/N—can...”

“No, Jackson, we can’t just talk about this shit. Because it honestly makes me sick that you didn’t even notice, when—when I...” your voice trails off into a shaky sigh, terrified to admit the unspeakable thing you almost did. “Fuck this. Right now there’s nothing you can say.”

You turn to leave, wiping more tears on your sleeve. You hate yourself so much more than you hate him, in this moment. Truth is you don’t hate him one bit. Couldn’t even if you wanted. Just hate the way that loving him drove you to do something so stupid and dishonest. Hate yourself for being so ashamed about the fact Jax didn’t notice. Is that his fault? Yeah, it probably is. But not nearly as much your fault for having done what you did in the first instance. You crossed a line that he didn’t. A line he never would, because he’s good.

Whereas your sorry ass... you reckon, right this second, that you’re no better than any of those damn crow-eating cunts you hate so much. Much worse, in fact. The truth is you don’t deserve Jax.

“For someone who can always read my mind, you sure as hell fucked up today,” you choke the words out of your throat, knowing they’re out of line. Trying your best to keep your dignity afloat, though it’s an ever-sinking boat. “Why don’t you get back to your business. Prince of Charming keeping everything running, just like you said. For once now I won’t let you have the cake and eat it, act like you’re some loving husband, as if I’m your one true princess. ‘Cause I’m not, okay? Guess the prince doesn’t always get his way.”

Once you’ve fled from the bathroom—ignoring how you only feel worse now that you’ve turned your back on him—you drown out the pain in your heart with a series of shots at the bar. Wondering if you should run back into his arms and explain everything and tell him just how sorry you are. 

Just a minute afterward, you hear the front door to the clubhouse slam shut, hard. Fucking loud, as Jax furiously storms out.

That’s when you notice, finally, that the prospect you had almost kissed, right on the motherfucking mouth, not long ago tonight... is sitting at the far end of the room, with a few concerned club members and crow eaters hanging around at his side. The poor bastard is healing from some fucking serious wounds.

That’s all you need to see, to realize suddenly—Jax did notice. Of course he fucking did. And you could kill yourself in shame for having ever doubted it. 

Why hadn’t he confronted you with that shit, when he joined you in the bathroom after pummeling the prospect with his jealous fists? Hadn’t your man been mad about it? Fucking pissed? Why didn’t he step in between the two of you and stop it sooner, if he’d noticed, so it wouldn’t have to come to this...? 

Truth hits you now, somehow, long overdue—it must’ve been because he trusted you. Figured you were playing some stupid game and trusted that you wouldn’t overstep your limits, though you ultimately very nearly did. He must’ve trusted you the way you should’ve always trusted him. Clarity hits you just as hard as the door slamming when he’d stormed out of the room.

And you have never felt like such absolute shit.

You had hoped that Jax would be pissed, to be honest. Because you’re so fucking mature. Had wanted him to channel all that alpha male possessive jealous rage toward you, for sure. That was what you had expected. After dishing out a lesson to the overstepping prospect, he would be all set to ruin you in bed...

But you had ruined any chance of that, by being so insensitive and immature and insecure instead.

Now all you want is just to throw yourself at him, wherever he has gone, shamelessly begging for forgiveness, for the stupid awful shit you’ve said and done... beg for possessive, jealous Jax to savagely punish your sorry ass, as soon as he gets home.

***************

... Continued in Part 2!

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