#and you know what I'm not clarifying further

[ladybugboots]

I will draw a Pokemon of your choosing for proof of e-Sim donation! (any e-Sims bought AFTER Jan 22nd). The higher the donation, the more effort it'll have.

Please refer to the instructions on https://gazaesims.com/ for how to buy and send an e-SIM for Gaza! Take a screenshot confirmation that you've sent the QR code to the correct email ([email protected]); please include date/time of purchase and amount spent or GB amount!

Then, send that screenshot to [email protected], along with a Pokemon you want me to draw!

Please do not use my art for hateful agendas, NFTs, AI training, or monetary profit (like selling it). Thanks!

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free!

#edited it to further clarify what to include in the email! #OH additional thing but you can censor whatever other personal information if you need to feel comfortable i just need to know what's above #i'm not going to be looking at anything else promise #pokemon #e sims for gaza #free palestine #ladybugtxt #id in alt text

[tvckerwash]

you know, an interpretation of ct that I don't see that I personally really love is that she's a fuck up. like yes she's cool and she has some good fight scenes, but a huge part of her character is that she makes mistakes. the mistakes that she makes are ones that on their own aren't the end of the world, but she keeps making these little mistakes, and they eventually add up until she's out of room to make any more.

a really good example of this phenomenon in action is the actions she took leading up to her final confrontation with carolina and tex.

strike one, she thought she saw something in the water, but when asked by the leader what it was, she brushed it off as nothing when even if it had been nothing, it would've been smart to tell him what she thought she saw.

strike two, she didn't sense or notice florida's presence when the leader did, and she looks at the leader twice, once as she pulled out her magnums, and again after she did a scan of the room, almost like she was looking at him for guidance before he finds florida and takes him out with one good axe throw.

strike three, she couldn't convince the leader to leave when they had the chance to get away, and her cheap tricks were not enough to hold off either tex or carolina in a fight. they were only good for incapacitating her opponents enough for her to get away, which doesn't work when she has no escape.

ct is not tex, or carolina, or south. she is not a one woman army who can get herself out of trouble when she's stuck in tough situations. she needs people who can watch her back, she need a team who can cover her when she does mess up, and the leader and his team were not those people. she couldn't bring herself to trust them, and they couldn't bring themselves to trust her, and that cost all of them their lives.

#i say i never see this interpretation of ct as if I'm not the only person having ct thoughts in 2024 lmao #red vs blue #rvb #agent connecticut #this is why wash and ct work so good together they function best in teams but theyre put in situations where theyre on their own #and they suffer because of it #but where wash had no choice in ending up w/o a team ct did #the ability to choose is a powerful tool. but being able to choose means that sometime somewhere someone will choose wrong #oh to further clarify the interpretation of ct I'm used to seeing is stereotypical hyper competent badass bitch type character #I've never really seen ct that way though tbh. she's a rebellious smart-ass who loves stating the obvious #it's honestly a pretty childish trait which i think goes well with her complex about being seen as a kid who needs excuses made for #her subpar performance in the field #basically in her head ct is james bond but in reality she's cringefail loser girl who wants to be a hero #you know what analyzing and discussing how heroism is viewed in rvb might be a pretty good essay #these colorful guys and gals aint heroes theyre all losers trying their best #anyway I'm off to attempt drawing a meta! tucker piece that may or may not turn out

[ladyamaranta]

I think there is A LOT in the fact that Crowley chooses to kiss Aziraphale.

Gabriel and Beelzebub have chosen each other, yet the show is very careful in not having them kiss or even hug romantically; they are Superior Beings, not humans, so they don't conform to humans' way of performing, showing, or possibly even feeling love. If they were humans, I'm sure they would have happily kissed before disappearing into their happy ever after, because that's what (most) humans want to do in such circumstances, and also because it's a fast and sure way to clarify the feelings to the audience.

This is in contrast with the kiss Crowley chooses to give -a very rushed, passionate, not though through, human kiss. He had already talked about his feeling (as Nina suggested), he had already made a confession, no one at that point was in doubt about where he stands for Aziraphale. So why the kiss? It wasn't necessary to clarify his feelings...or was it? I think is was necessary to further clarify them. To me Crowley is not saying just "I love you" with that kiss, he is also saying "I love you in a human way, I love us not the Angels we could be Up There, I love us here on Earth".

He does not want to be back in Heaven, not even with Aziraphale; he's been there, he's been there in a very high rank, he knows that it is not a nice place. He wants to stay on Earth with Aziraphale and that's what he's trying to tell him by choosing to show love in a human way.

#meta #the kiss #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens #talking to myself

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

[deakyjoe]

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.

Okay, get well soon!

It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.

It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.

To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.

Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.

It wasn't.

In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.

You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.

That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.

"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.

Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."

"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.

"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.

So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."

Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."

"Oh." That surprised you.

He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."

God, were you that easy to read?

"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."

You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"

You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.

"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.

You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."

He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."

"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.

"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"

You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.

"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"No." You sighed. "It's okay."

"Yeah, I'm making you something."

You huffed. "You really don't have to-"

"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”

Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”

You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.

“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”

"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.

"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."

Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."

He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.

He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”

“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.

“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”

The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.

So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”

His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”

You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”

Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”

You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.

“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.

He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”

You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”

You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.

He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”

You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”

“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.

“You gonna feed me?” You teased.

Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”

He was right.

“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.

You were definitely a little bit in love with him.

You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."

Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."

"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Hot.” You insisted.

"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.

He huffed out a laugh.

You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.

“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”

You scoffed. “You’re something else.”

He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.

“How you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”

Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”

You hummed and stared at him fondly.

He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.

He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”

You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”

Maybe you were a lot in love with him.

So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”

Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.

He knew you so well.

You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”

You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”

“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.

“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”

“Me too.”

Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.

Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.

A/N: And we’re back!

#bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #ej’s writing #ej’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics

[ervotica]

Hi! Can you do one with Eris x rhysand daughter reader where they're mates, but in a secret relationship?? Maybe they're getting kinda hot on Eris's throne, but then Rhys & Feyre enter the room and they're discovered?

𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐦𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing; high lord!eris vanserra x fem!reader

summary; being the high lord of the night court's daughter is feat unto itself. when combined with being the mate of the high lord of autumn, it becomes almost impossible to navigate. you've been keeping your mateship with eris under wraps for a year. on a visit to the autumn court, rhysand unwittingly walks in on the two of you, and all hell breaks loose.

warnings; smut themes (18+ only, as always), ANGST, rhys is very mean in this i'm sorry i made him the bad guy, family issues, eris is sexy and also the love of my life

word count; 2.2k

a/n; wow the daddy issues rly popped off w this one ngl. just to clarify, i really do love rhys with my whole entire heart but i had to villianise someone for the sake of the plot. so enjoy this mess.

The intensity with which Eris surveys you is searing.

Not a new development - of course - but no matter how many times those amber eyes rake the length of your body, the molten honey of them burning into a deep russet as his pupils engulf his irises, it sets your insides ablaze with need.

You're perched atop his throne, clad in a gown of deep red with slits that slip down to reveal your bare thighs as you cross one leg atop the other. You certainly look the part of the Autumn Court.

He wants to devour you whole.

Your thighs part just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the scant fabric that barely covers your dripping pussy, and you watch the way that his eyelids drop, gaze darkening to something primal as the scent of your arousal encases his senses.

"Sit back for me, fawn," he murmurs as he stalks up the steps that land at your feet. Your muscles seize in waiting as you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress a coy smile. His palms slip beneath the silk of your dress, hiking the fabric further to reveal miles of bare skin that only he's privy to. You go soft like prey when thick fingers peel themselves from your skin to curl around your throat, a thumb pressing into the dip beneath your chin.

"Eris," you murmur. He coos, nipping at your earlobe.

"I know, my love. Needy little thing, aren't you."

Gods, you love it when he gets like this. The lust drives him mad–it's like he can't stop the dirty things that fall from his lips. Each word makes you wetter, has you squirming in your seat, begging for the sweet release you know he's bound to grant you– after he's had his way with you, of course.

His nose grazes at your cheekbone, breath hot against your prickling skin.

"Please," you whisper.

His grin is positively feline as his pointed canines protrude to scrape at the curve of your jaw. "All you had to do was ask."

And then his lips are slanting hungrily over your own, a palm curving around your waist to anchor your body to his own as he kisses the breath from your lungs. Your thighs part, granting him access to step between them and press himself flush to your chest; his fingers loop loosely around your wrist to guide your hand between his own legs. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue scrapes against the back of your teeth as you squeeze the hot, hard length of him, revelling in the way he ruts into your open palm. Your chest heaves as he growls lowly against your lips.

"This is what you do to me, fawn. I've wanted to rip this dress from your body and devour you since you stepped through the front doors."

You keen, head tipping back to bare your throat for him. Surrendering completely. Pleasure thrums through your veins when his lips trail down to latch against the soft skin you've exposed for him.

This male is your undoing.

His hand resumes creeping its way up your dress, the tip of his thumb pressing to your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. You moan softly, a sound that he swallows with his open mouth against yours and then chases, rubbing tight circles into the bundle of nerves until you're arching into his touch, lifting off of the throne to crush every inch of your body against his own.

His touch is dizzying, and you're so consumed by the feel of him against you that you almost don't hear the double doors to the throne room creak open. There's a bang as they fall shut behind the visitor, and it's loud enough to have you startling where you sit.

"I'm busy," Eris growls, his forehead still pressed to yours.

"This can't wait, I'm afraid," Rhys drawls. Your blood turns to ice in your veins, any and all arousal effectively dying as soon as your father's voice echoes against the stone walls.

"Oh, shit," you mumble. "We're going to actually die."

Eris pinches your chin between a thumb and forefinger affectionally, flooding the bond with as much warmth and encouragement as he can muster before his head turns, and you bury your face into the juncture of his neck in an effort to hide.

"If you'd be so kind as to escort the lady out, Eris." Rhys picks at the cuffs of his black jacket, brow quirking when neither of you make any effort to move.

"She's fine right here," he replies, clipped.

Your father's nose wrinkles in disdain as he strides for the steps, and your breath catches in your throat when he reaches the edge of the marble floor.

"What is this?" he asks, folding arms over his chest. "You really want your latest escapade present for this meeting?"

Eris' soft eyes harden, ablaze with a fury you've often seen but never been in the direct line of.

"You leave her out of this."

Rhys scoffs. "Don't tell me you've gone soft, High Lord." His tone is scathing, dripping with sarcastic venom.

Eris rises to the insult, shoulders squaring as he straightens to his full height. And it's then, and only then, that your father catches a glimpse of your stricken face, lips parted into a gasp as Eris stares him down.

You go still behind the High Lord of Autumn, pushing your body upright against the throne and willing yourself to simply sink into the chair and cease to exist. Of course, fate has never been in your favour.

"My daughter?" Rhys bellows. "You're fucking my daughter?" His voice bounces off of the stone that encases every inch of the room, and you wince as his violet eyes meet your own.

"It's not like that," you murmur; Eris is torn between focusing his attention on you or Rhys, even as you desperately try to soothe him through the bond as he did for you just minutes ago.

"What is it like then, baby?" Rhys condescends to you. "Don't tell me you love him, now." He spits the words with such hate that you're positive a slap would hurt less. "You are nothing to him, do you not understand that? He will use you and discard you and not think twice about it and I will be left to pick up the pieces because you are too fucking stupid to see that!"

You're sure that your heart ceases to beat when your father finishes speaking, becoming this cold, unmoving thing that weighs down your chest until you struggle for breath. Your father's chest heaves with a simmering rage that has always terrified you, and it makes your body coil tight with a silent sob; you continue to stare him down, eyes narrowed in an attempt to push the tears stinging your waterline back. Eris turns his back on Rhys then, surging forward to kiss the droplets away, smoothing the hair at the crown of your skull down.

"You are so cruel." is all you say.

"I'm telling you the truth," he spits. Your body snaps up at his words and you stand on shaking legs to plant yourself in front of Eris like a shield. The redhead settles his hands on your shoulders, his touch grounding as he directs his next words at Rhys, his voice like death incarnate.

"Apologise to my mate."

Your father blanches at the words, staggering back a step.

"Your what?"

"My mate," he repeats, voice quiet with the anger that coils tightly inside of him. The outrage at the way your own father deigns appropriate to speak to you. "Apologise to her. Now."

Rhys exhales, shuddering when he turns his gaze back to you.

"I expected better from you."

White-hot fire licks at your insides as you survey the disgust that curls your father's lip, the way his eyes flicker down to where Eris holds your emotions steady with his touch alone. You're overcome with the need to protect your mate, even if it means tearing your own flesh and blood apart with claws and teeth and poisoned words.

"You don't know the first fucking thing about him," you spit, willing your voice to stay steady. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"So tell me, sweetheart." Rhys doubles down.

"Why do you do this?" you sigh, some of the tension in your muscles loosing when Eris steps forward another inch to press his chest to your back, no doubt delivering a deathly stare over your head. "Every time I find something that makes me happy, you ruin it. He makes me happy. Why can't you see that?"

"I never thought you'd be this naive. I'm ashamed to call you my daughter."

You stumble backwards, willing yourself to stay upright even as Eris' hand grasps you by the waist and anchors you to him. You breathe, in and out, forcing the acrid air into your lungs even as you want nothing more than to lay on the floor beneath you and sob. He might as well have hit you.

"You've always been ashamed to call me your daughter," you hiss through gritted teeth. "I've never been enough for you, no matter how hard I trained or how much work I threw myself into, I was always the disappointment. And now I find someone that loves me, that supports me and wants me to be happy, and you want to rip that away, too? It's not fair!"

"That's not true," he says, though his stance falters. The mask slips and it bares the fear that lies underneath the cold exterior.

"That's enough." Eris' voice cuts through the stark silence like a blade. "You will apologise or you will leave, Rhysand."

He murmurs crooning apologies against your ear when you turn to tuck yourself into him, tears hot and fast against your cheeks that flare with heat in the wake of your admission. You feel as though you've been stripped bare before him, every vulnerability dragged to the surface against your best efforts to bury them. Your head tips back, glossy eyes meeting his and finding nothing but unbridled adoration in his gaze. He accepts you, scars and all.

"It's okay, fawn," he whispers. "It's okay. I love you."

You nod fervently, lashes drooping with the weight of your tears when he cradles your cheek and presses a kiss between your brows. His face rises to your father once more.

"If you'd like to keep your alliance with this court, you'd do well to apologise." His voice is rough and rasping with your pain but still leaves no room for argument. "(Y/N) is my mate, and soon she will be my wife and High Lady of Autumn. And I will not tolerate you speaking to her in this manner."

You steel yourself to turn and wobble down the steps to stand face-to-face with your father. You gaze up at him through tear-soaked lashes and the sight pulls at something uncomfortable inside of him. It's how you've looked at him for two hundred years– the longing in your eyes for him to accept you, the unyielding need for him to be proud. He never bothered to decipher what it meant. It's all too clear now.

"I will be leaving Velaris," you tell him, scrunching your nose in the same way your mother does when she's upset. It nearly sends him reeling. "If you never want to see me again, that is your decision to make. But my loyalty lies with my mate."

His lips part and then close as though he wants to say something. You internally plead for it. Say something, you think. Anything.

"I'm sorry that I disappointed you," you continue on despite his silence. "Everything I ever did was to make you proud and it wasn't enough. But I'm done ripping myself apart for your approval."

He watches your lips downturn into a frown, the crease that works its way into your brow the one he's been pressing kisses to and smoothing over for your entire life.

It's as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as you pass the burden you've been carrying to him before you're striding back up those steps, more confident than he's ever seen you.

You walk into Eris' open arms and smile, your face resting comfortably in the hollow of his neck as you breathe him in.

You don't look back when Rhys walks out of the throne room, the heavy wooden doors thudding closed in his wake.

"I'm sorry, my love," Eris murmurs.

"I'm not." You tilt your head to watch him, bringing up a hand to trace the contours of his features. You drag lazy knuckles over the edge of his cheekbones. "I have you."

A smirk cracks your stoic features and he stifles an amused grin at the question he knows is coming.

"So, High Lady, huh?"

He rocks you in his arms, nuzzling his cheek against yours and marvelling at the way you so naturally fit together. His true mirror, his equal in every way. You preen happily at the contact.

"Anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Within reason, fawn," he chides. You roll your eyes playfully.

"I was merely going to suggest we should pick up where we left off, my dear." Your hand glides the length of his body, circling teasingly around his hardening cock before veering away. He grunts, head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder.

"How could I ever say no to that?"

#acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #eris angst #eris vanserra angst #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra acotar #pro eris vanserra #eris fanfic #eris fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris acotar #acotar fandom #eris fluff #eris vanserra #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #acotar #eris acosf #acosf #eris vandaddy #fanfic

[demonpiratehuntress]

fictional boys (Monster Trio + Ace, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - their reactions to finding out you have a crush on a fictional character

warnings - slightly angsty in Sanji's part but otherwise none

a/n: Kaku is severely underrated and there is a shocking lack of fics for him

ZORO

You're always reading. This was normal for you, but Zoro had never seen you this engrossed in one before. You spent more time with that damn book than you did with him these days, and even napping with you was a pain because you always had it with you. And he didn't understand your obsession with it, until he overheard a conversation between you and Nami.

"So who's your favourite?" The orange-haired navigator asked excitedly, leaning forward for the gossip.

"(Random Name)," you answered just as eagerly, your eyes lighting up excitedly. "He's the coolest!"

"Right?" Nami agreed, a dreamy smile on her face. "And the hottest."

"Oh yeah definitely."

"Who's the hottest, now?" A familiar deep voice cut through before you two could get any further than that. Zoro stopped by the table, crossing his arms and looking unamused.

"A guy in this book," you answered your boyfriend, unaware of the hostility in his tone, "He's this really cool knight who-"

"I'm cooler."

You looked up at him in surprise, not expecting him to cut you off with those words, "What?"

"Your stupid knight," he clarified, "I'm cooler than him. And hotter."

You looked at Nami, who was trying her hardest not to laugh. Then you looked back at your boyfriend, who was looking at you expectantly. Waiting for you to agree.

"Zoro-"

"Oh, so you like him better than me?"

"No! I never-" You stopped, starting to smirk. "Wait...are you jealous?"

He glared at you, "I don't get jealous."

"Oh, alright then," you sat back, deciding to tease him. "Then I can tell you more about his heroics, if you'd like."

A growl followed your words, and the book was quickly pulled from your grip and tossed overboard. The silence was only broken by a splash, before you finally reacted.

"Zoro! What-"

"Mine," he suddenly lifted you up bridal-style, "All mine." He carried you off to his room to show you - remind you - who you belonged to.

"I'm way better than that shitty knight."

ACE

The last time Ace had seen you, you were reading. The next time he saw you, you were still reading. He had gone and had a whole island adventure while you'd apparently just lay on your shared bed with your nose buried in a book. He wondered what was so special and interesting about it, so when you went to go do something he picked it up and read a little bit of it.

"Ace? Are you actually reading something?"

You giggled from the doorway, watching as the second division commander jumped, startled, and dropped your book. He looked up at you, pouting slightly.

"Just wanted to see why it's more interesting than I am."

"It's not more interesting than you are," you denied, coming over to the bed. You sat down next to him, picking it up and checking if you still had your page marked.

"But you're ignoring me to read it!" He protested, crossing his arms. With that and his pout, he looked like an upset child. It was cute.

"I'm not ignoring you! It's just..." You sighed. "There's a character I really like and I want to see where his story goes."

"His?"

You realised your mistake too late. Ace's eyes narrowed, looking from your face to the book. For a moment, there was dead silence, before he suddenly burned your book to a crisp. Your eyes widened and you were about to scold him for that, but he quickly engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, nuzzling his face against your neck.

"You don't need a stupid book boy, you have me."

"Portgas D. Ace, are you jealous of a fictional character?"

"W-what?! NO! I just...you know...you don't give me any attention anymore!"

"So you're jealous. Of a boy who doesn't exist."

He groaned, keeping his face buried in your neck so you wouldn't see the embarrassing blush that fell over his cheeks, "Not jealous. Just want you." Before you could tease him any further, he leaned up to kiss you deeply.

"I'm the only one who's allowed to have you, no one else. Not even some damn fictional character."

LUFFY

He doesn't think much of it when you spend most of your free time reading. He doesn't feel threatened by anything or anyone when it comes to you, but he is also very confused by the concept of fictional characters. So when he hears you and Robin gushing about one, he is only intrigued by what you guys are talking about.

"Did you get to the part where..." Robin was asking you, rambling on about one of the scenes in the book.

"I did!" You gasped, "And I loved it. Especially what he did."

With Zoro napping, Sanji cooking, Chopper making more rumble balls, and Franky and Usopp working on the ship, Luffy had nothing better to do than come sit and listen to you and Robin. When he heard 'he', though, his interest was piqued.

"Who's 'he' (Name)?" He asked curiously.

You blushed at his question, unsure of how to explain this to your boyfriend, "He's, um, he-"

"He's (Name)'s fictional crush," Nami answered for you, shooting you a playful smirk. She knew damn well what she was doing, and your eyes widened.

"Luffy-"

"What's a fictional crush?" He blinked, confused.

"Nothing!" You quickly responded before Nami could open her mouth again, "It's really nothing, it's not important."

"It means (Name) likes a boy in the book she's reading," Nami continued, "The same way she likes you, Luffy."

"NAMI!" The glare you shot her could make sea kings tremble.

"But why?" Luffy questioned, "(Name) said I'm the only one she likes like that."

"And that is true," you agreed, smiling as you gave him a quick but loving kiss on his cheek. Sometimes you were grateful for Luffy's obliviousness.

"Good, because I would have just fought him for you."

SANJI

Sanji was happy to see that you had found something to occupy yourself with while he was busy, so he wouldn't feel guilty about leaving you alone so much. He would bring you snacks and refreshing drinks while you read, happy to serve you and keep you satisfied while you enjoyed your mental adventure. But a conversation between you, Nami and Robin changed everything.

"(Random Name) is so hot," you were gushing as Sanji arrived with another tray of drinks, "Like, unbelievably hot. And he's so sweet, too. Definitely boyfriend material."

While Nami and Robin eagerly agreed with you, Sanji almost dropped the tray he was holding. His eyes went wide at your words, and he felt his stomach churn.

"My love...who are you talking about?"

He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but why would you openly talk about some other man in front of him? Is this how you felt when you saw him give attention to other women? He swore he would stop right now if it meant this person wasn't real.

"A guy from the book I'm reading," you smiled up at him, but faltered when you saw the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shook his head and forced a smile, "I'm glad you're enjoying the book, love."

"Sanji, he's just a fictional character," you turned to face the cook completely, "I wouldn't really date him, even if he was real. You know I only love you, and you alone."

Your words were reassuring, and Sanji was grateful it wasn't any real person, but the words 'boyfriend material' rang in his head again. He set the drinks down. Then, unexpectedly, he got down on his knees and clasped his hands together in a begging gesture.

"(Name), my sweet, beautiful girlfriend that I love more than anything else in the world, I promise to stop looking at and flirting with other women if you stop reading that book!"

You raised an eyebrow, realising that he really was jealous of (Random Name), "You really mean that?"

"Yes yes yes! Please!"

"You better keep that promise."

"I will, because I'm only yours and you're only mine."

KAKU

With Kaku's job being...what it was, you spent majority of your time at home in Water 7 alone. He was almost always away on missions, leaving you with nothing to do but turn to books to occupy yourself during the day. So in the absence of your boyfriend, it was only natural you would be drawn to fictional men as a way of receiving affection.

Kaku didn't expect to come home and find downstairs neat but empty.

"(Name)?" He called out, frowning when he got no response.

He came upstairs, finding you asleep on the bed with a book clutched close to your chest. He looked at the title - it was a romance. That made him feel guilty; he knew you didn't like romances, and that you only read them when he wasn't around. He tried to remove it from your grip so he could cuddle you instead, but this action stirred you and you slowly sat up.

"Kaku?" You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, then smiled softly, "You're back. Hi."

"Hi," he replied sweetly, returning your smile. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's alright," you reassured him, "I didn't realise I fell asleep. Must have read until I passed out."

He chuckled at that, before gesturing to the book, "What were you reading about?"

"This?" You looked down at the book. "Oh, I just heard from a friend it was good. And that the main male character is swoon-worthy, which he is. I can see why she liked it."

At the mention of the male MC, Kaku felt an unjustified and unnecessary bout of jealousy swell up inside him. You liked the guy in the book? Maybe if he had been here you wouldn't.

"You don't have to be jealous you know," you started to smile playfully. "He doesn't compare to you."

"I'm not jealous," he tried to deny it, but his rosy cheeks gave it away. "It's a fictional character, why would I be jealous?"

"'It'?" You teased, pulling him closer to you. "So jealous you can't even give him a pronoun." You laughed, and the sound relaxed the tense CP9 agent.

"Ha, ha," he replied dryly, wrapping his arms around you. "Come here."

"I love you, and only you," you smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Good, because it will only ever be me and you."

#one piece #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d luffy #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #op x reader #op x you #kaku one piece #kaku x reader #kaku x you

[luveline]

hi love! i have a request in mind. i read your guidelines and saw you’re not writing smut atm so just want to clarify that that’s not what this is!! i was wondering if you could write something where reader has abnormal pain during sex? and it’s just the conversation either before trying (thinking it will be awful and she’ll get rejected) or right after (and not having bad success for that first time). the reassurance of it would be wonderful to read, especially in your voice! as for the character, i’d love either joel or hotch! whatever comes easier <3 love ya jade

hi lovely, hope this is ok!! fem, 1k

cw suggestive/adult themes, mdni

"Am I doing something you don't like?" Aaron asks quietly. 

You sigh and turn your face from his kiss, skin aflame. It was a matter of time before he read your hesitancy, but you'd hoped to power through. This is the dealbreaker for some guys. You're especially terrified of Aaron's rejection in particular. 

"It's not you," you murmur. 

He drops his hand from your shoulder to your thigh, far from anywhere intimate but a heart-skipping touch regardless. "No?" he asks, matching your murmur. "We don't have to go any further. I misread you, honey. I'm sorry." 

"You didn't. It's… I want to," you say, pitch heightening and weakening at the same time, almost raw. "I really, really want to, but it's–" You look down at his chest. "It's embarrassing." 

"Oh." He clears his throat. "I'm not young. I promise, I know the reality of a woman's body–" 

You laugh unexpectedly, "No need to brag." 

"What I'm trying to say is that I know what real women look like. I'm not expecting you to be a two sheet spread." 

"Aaron, that's really sweet, but it's not what I'm struggling with." 

"Sorry," he says. He rubs your leg gently in apology. He looks embarrassed himself now, an odd expression on him, but reassuring in a way. 

"I have this thing. Sex," —your voice sounds weird, fraught with nerves— "can be really painful for me. Sometimes I can't do it because it hurts, and I don't want to lead you on when it might not, uh, work." 

Aaron holds his silence. You rush to fill it.

"We can still try, I'm not saying I can't have sex with you, I know that for most guys it's not something you want to go without and I get if that means I'm not right for you–" 

Aaron takes your hand. "Hey, wait. Wait. Who says you're not right for me?" 

"I just know sex is a big deal." 

Aaron is full grown, and you should've expected this, but it still shocks you when he speaks without cringing, "I won't tell you I don't enjoy it, but having sex with you isn't the only thing I want from you. Honestly, it probably doesn't make the top one hundred." 

"It's not that I can't…" 

"Right. It hurts?" he asks. 

Emboldened by his question, you squeeze his larger fingers between yours. "Yeah, it can hurt. Not always, but even if we take it slow I can't guarantee I'll enjoy it… The top one hundred, really?" 

Aaron leans down slowly to kiss your cheek. "Really. I don't want to lie to you, I want you. But mostly to make you feel good."  

His tone is quiet, measured, with a hint of hoarseness, and his breath fans warm over your skin. This is the very first time you've had this conversation  and still wanted to try afterward, confident that the partner understands what you're saying. 

"I probably should've told you before." 

"You told me when you were ready, that's all I want from you." He kisses your cheek again, before his arm is woven across your shoulders and your face is hooked into the curve of his neck. "Thank you for letting me know." 

"Aaron–" You laugh, the weight of your small secret finally lifted. "You just said thank you for my putting you in possibly the most awkward situation I could have when ten minutes ago you were giving me a hickey." 

"I think I'm old enough to do both." 

"All this focus on how old you are," you murmur, pressing your lips to his jaw. "You realise I barely think about it?" 

True and untrue. He doesn't feel any older than you when he's kissing you into a tizzy, but he's handled this conversation with immense and reassuring maturity. It is so, so nice to have been able to talk about your problem without shame or disgust in the mix, and nice, too, to know he isn't expecting supermodel perfection under your clothes. 

"I know you don't. It's hard not to think about sometimes, maybe you'll understand when you're older." He chuckles at his own joke as he pulls you close, leaning back in the couch cushions and encouraging you to rest the entirety of your weight on him. "Can I kiss you again?" 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, careful not to jab his chest with your elbows as you grow closer, closer. It's easier to kiss him knowing that no matter what happens, he doesn't mind. He understands. 

"Thank you," you say against his lips. 

"Stop. It's the very least I'd do for you." He kisses the corner of your mouth, covers your hand on his face with his own. "And… let me be crass, but when you say sex, you don't mean every aspect, do you?" Your eyes close as he pulls your nose against his. "I meant what I said earlier, about making you feel good."  

You huff an amorous laugh, "Not every aspect, no… We can figure it out. Please?" 

"Let's make something very clear, honey. You don't have to say please to me. Not about this." 

It means the world to you that after everything, this mess of conversation and flirting alike, you can wrap your arms around him for a hug and be received like it's the one thing Aaron was waiting for. His arms slide behind your back, one hand curled against the curve of your waist and the other stretched broad between your shoulder blades. 

"If it makes you feel better, I have a mole shaped like Louisiana on my stomach," he mumbles. "I didn't know how to bring it up." 

It's not that funny, but paired with your adrenaline rush and the comfort of his arms, you burst out laughing. Aaron joins in with his high-pitched laugh, so unlike his usual dulcet tone, and that makes it worse. You laugh so much you almost forget what you were doing before. Then he touches the small of your back under your shirt, and you remember. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

[nyaskitten]

EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lego ninjago dragons rising #lego chima #lego legends of chima #chima #legends of chima #callout post #long post #edited all 'she' for 'they' here !!

[bug-is-snug]

starved pt. 2

part one

plot: you're a zombie <3 CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, self-cannibalism (stay safe cutiepies!), blood, gore, eventual smut (That means Minors DO NOT INTERACT), self harm (I think? I'm not sure but I'm adding it to be safe!), military inaccuracies, dead dove do not eat kinds of stuff

A/N: let me know if I missed anything with the content warnings! Also please forgive me for the terrible accents, I am but a small humble person with the brain made of v8 juice- Also some of this was written on mobile so forgive me if there are any grammar errors ^^; banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"

You felt your face grow warm as your mind went back to the sight of your Captain's wrist. Well- mainly his veins...God, he had lovely veins... You imagined grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth in, tearing away at his skin and tendons with gnashing teeth...while you daydreamt you couldn't help but wonder; How sweet would his flesh taste? Shaking your head profusely, you let out a huff and continued to head off towards the barracks while ignoring the emptiness in your stomach. God, you could feel the blood running down your throat, warming you far better than any hard alcohol... "Stop it." You hissed quietly to yourself, as if you had any control over the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind, "Don't think at all, just shut up!"

Taking a moment, you lean up against the wall and desperately try to gather your thoughts. Your stomach growled almost angrily, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Hungry?" A familiar voice cooed playfully, their Scottish accent giving away their identity instantly. You look up to see Soap, your heart instantly beginning to race. Your eyes scanned over his body while your nose took in his scent, which allowed you to recognize that he had just gotten back from the shooting range, the smell of his musk and the gunpowder making your head swim. "Uh-" Christ, you sounded dumb, "Maybe? I dunno, I kinda skipped lunch today...though I do hear that your body can make you hungry when you're exhausted so- uh- maybe it's that?" ...WHAT? Where did that even come from?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?! Soap raised a brow, staring at you for a moment and giving away that he was also just as bewildered as you were over the shit you just said. "...I am going over here now." You quickly walked around him, attempting to make it to your room. "Hold on now, that dinnae make a lick o' sense. What's goin' on wi' ye?" A strong, calloused hand grasped at your forearm making your heart jump to your throat, "Ye alright, lovie?" You shuddered slightly, digging your nails into your palms as thoughts of tearing your precious teammate’s ribs apart and sinking your teeth into his heart while it still beats made you feel dizzy and your stomach ache. What would it taste like? Sweet? Savory? How much would you be able to devour before someone else stumbles upon the sight? You quickly interrupted your own thoughts as you blurted out, "I think I'm sick is all." Soap hummed and reached over, pressing his hand against your forehead. "Ye dinnae feel sick, ye feel cold to be honest, lovie..." He muttered. "Sarge-" You were cut off by his hands feeling up the scruff of your neck and under your jaw. "Sorry, mate. My mum used to do this to check if me or my siblings were sick..." His voice was low, as if he trying not to spook an injured animal. "Sarge, I'm fine, honest-!" You tried to reason with him. You knew he was telling you the truth, but you also knew how he was. To clarify, while the relationship between you and Soap was rather handsy it was usually a welcome action and when it wasn't, you would tell him and he would back off. The touches the two of you would share sometimes bordered on inappropriate, but it often didn't go much further than that. It was a very intimate relationship, one that could be missed if someone didn't have a trained eye. However, it wasn't quite romantic...just intimate and sometimes intense-

Looking into his eyes, you could tell that while he was indeed just checking up on you, there was a small sense of enjoyment at the fact you were letting him casually paw at your sensitive skin. You let out a soft hiss in pain when he pressed down on a particularly tender spot, "Johnny, too hard..." "Sorry, lovie..." Soap said quietly, letting go after a moment. "It's okay..." You assured him, "What's the prognosis, Doctor MacTavish?" He chuckled at your teasing and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yer feelin' a bit stiff is all. Probably from yer god-awful posture." "Then I am going to do what I was planning to do and go take a nap. I should probably tell Gaz...I was gonna eat lunch with him today..." You said, disappointment heavy in your voice. "I can tell 'im fer you, lovie. Dinnae ye worry yer little head ‘bout it." Soap smiled, reaching over and giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you gave him a relieved smile, "You'd really do that for me? Thank you, Johnny..." He smiled back, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. "Yer welcome..." You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow which made him chuckle and give you a wink before he walked around you, leaving you on your own as you finally made it to your room. You remembered the last time you retreated to your room when feeling unwell while you stared at your bed, closing your door behind you. It was a few days after the attack... Your body felt like it was on fire, especially where that damn doctor had bitten you. Your heart raced and your arm felt like your veins had poison coursing through them. You had refused to let anyone know, nor let anyone take care of you going as far as to barricade the door. Stupid? Yes, but what were you supposed to do? Let the teammates whom you trust your life with every single day know you're unwell? Ask them for help because they're your found family and you would drop everything to take care of them if they were in this state because you love and cherish them as people? Cringe- You groaned in pain, curling up in your little bed while digging your nails into the fabric, tearing them effortlessly much to your surprise. "What the fuck?" You huffed out, grimacing as you stare at the ruined sheets, "I just bought those..." Was that what you should have been worried about? Absolutely not, but you have to cope somehow. The pain was unbearable, but the worst of it was the fever and the fever dreams that came along with them. Well, you called them fever dreams; they actually appeared in your mind when you were awake. And most of them were really just...urges... Visions of ripping people apart filled your mind. It felt so real...you could feel your fingers digging into some faceless person's skin, tearing apart their flesh and ripping apart their ribs while they screamed and thrashed. The more skeptical part of your mind shoved it off as just an edgy little thought that you had as a courtesy of watching so many horror movies with Gaz, just a silly little spout of aggression. No, it was the thought of eating the person that got you to worry. It was the thought of burying your face into their warm body and sinking your teeth into their heart that scared you. The worst part of it was the fact that your stomach growled every time you imagined chewing and swallowing, like a forbidden fruit... Blood spilling down your chin like you had just bit into an apple after days of neglecting your hunger became a feeling you craved desperately. "Please just be a really fucked up version of the flu..." You whispered, "I swear to everything that is good and holy if it's not-" You were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a quiet sob while you clung to it. Somehow, you felt embarrassed about how much pain you felt. You've taken bullets for fuck's sake! You have broken bones, dislocated joints-! And a little stomachache is making you cry?!

"What the fuck...?" You muttered, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Upon seeing the literal puddle of it in your hand you cringed, “Mm…that’s nasty…”

Sitting up, you use the headboard of your bed to keep you steady while your head pounds and begs you to lay back down. You huff, leaning your head against your arm for a moment. This fucking sucks. There is no denying it!

Your nose is pressed against your flesh, and you catch a whiff of yourself…Oh my…

Your stomach beckons you, and in that moment, you don’t even care. How can you? You’re starving!

So…

Without a second thought…

You sink your teeth into your wrist with a sickening squelch, tearing through veins and muscle. And, God, if it didn’t taste lovely…

Back To Current Day…

You sit down on your bed, running your fingers over the stitching you had done over the once torn sheets. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough!

With a sigh, you lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as you reach over and gently touch your forearm, your fingertips sliding across the edge of the bandage. You didn’t really want to check if the wound was still there…but you didn’t want it to get infected either.

Your eyes glance down as you kicked off your shoes, scooting into your bed while your hand slowly peeled the bandaid off. You expected infection…a festering, pulsing and pus filled one…however, there was nothing. Your wrist was completely healed, like nothing happened-! How…?

You shake your head as hard as you can, as if it would shake the thoughts away. You ball the bandaid up and go to the trashcan, tossing it before going to your sink and rinsing your hands off. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s- er- not ideal, but it’s something! Maybe you should keep a journal of your changes- No. Too risky. If anyone found it…

Your eyes closed as you lean against the counter, inhaling through your nose while your leg bounce uncomfortably, “I can’t see a doctor…I really should but-! …What if I hurt someone…?”

You found yourself doing that a lot; whispering to yourself, fighting yourself…etc…

But that’s neither here nor there, it’s time to eat.

You started to head to your mini fridge, kneeling down before it and opening it up to take a package of raw meat out. You tear it open with your finger, feeling yourself begin to shake…

Shoveling raw meat into your mouth was not a good feeling. Did it scratch that lizard part of your brain? Yes. But social norms taught you to be disgusted with such bad manners-! However…as you sunk your teeth into the raw chicken breast, you ripped and tore away at it, feeling yourself grow more and more ravenous as it you continued. It tasted pretty okay for the most part, which is what surprised you the most.

Tasted like chicken, obviously, but the raw flavor added to it somehow? It was so hard to describe! But…then those thoughts came…

You were imaging the meat belonging to Soap, your beloved teammate. You felt so dirty and perverted…

‘This isn’t normal,’ You reminded yourself, ‘This is NOT. NORMAL!’

You didn’t even realize someone else had entered your room until they cleared their throat, making you snap your attention to whomever it was.

Oh shit.

#bug sure is snug in this rug #141 x reader #task force 141 #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #poly 141 #john soap mctavish x reader #zombie au #zombie reader #john price #141 au #cod 141

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Title: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: "I think I'm being haunted," you say. "By the ghost of my dead best friend."

For Horrorfest request:

Dabi with the movie Candyman?

Word Count: 1084

notes: yandere, implied kidnapping

“I think I’m being haunted.” 

The words come out so fast that you’re not entirely sure that your friend heard them at first, until she gives you a look that is a mixture of pity, confusion  and--maybe you’re imagining it--curiosity. 

“By my best friend’s ghost,” you continue, when she doesn’t say anything. You stumble a bit over the words, realizing how crazy it sounds, how out-there. Especially to your friend who has never given so much as an inkling that she believes in anything remotely supernatural. 

“He died when we were younger--there was a fire, and…” 

You shake your head, unwilling to go further. 

Your friend reaches out, touches your arm. When you look up, she’s got the softest, kindest expression on her face. A smile, subtle and warm, with a twitch of knowing anxiety behind it.

“I know something that might help.”

--

You wake up, breath hitching, sweat covering the back of your head, making your hair and pillowcase damp and uncomfortably warm. 

--

“All you have to do is say their name in the mirror three times,” your friend told you. “And they will appear to you.” She paused. “You could try to get closure. Or at least know that you’re not crazy.” She laughed a little, but the sound didn’t match her expression. 

It was your turn to look confused--and curious.

“My neighbor had a problem with a ghost,” she clarified. You stared, and she bit her lip. “And… so did I, once.”

You frowned. She had never mentioned it, not even once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your friend shrugged.

“You probably wouldn’t have believed me back then.”

You said nothing, because she was probably right on that count. You didn’t really believe in ghosts yourself until a few weeks ago. 

That was when it all started--the haunting. 

Items missing from your apartment, treasured things. Your old stuffed bear. A photo of you and Touya as children, and that hurt the most, because it was the only one you still had. 

Your mother had misplaced your photo album before you moved out, but this one, the one you kept in a frame on your bookshelf, had been spared. Admittedly, the photo frame had gotten dusty, but so had other things from your childhood.

And now it was gone. Who would take it? Not some petty thief. Nothing valuable was missing. Just your personal treasures, and trinkets.

And then there were the noises. Footsteps in the night. The sound of a cupboard opening and shutting in the morning, before you got out of bed; sometimes they were left open, and your fingers twitched while you shut them.

And… you swear, you swear this is true, you began to get the distinct feeling that you were being watched. During the night, and then during the day. While you tried to sleep. While you showered. While you ate what simple meals you threw together, unable to focus much on cooking or shopping as time went on.

If what your friend told you is true, maybe you can get some closure. 

Maybe you can ask Touya to stop haunting you. 

Maybe you can tell him you’re sorry.

--

This isn’t going to work. It can’t work. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.

You take a breath, then another. You’re just anxious. You’re just… frayed.

Nothing will happen, probably, and you’ll realize that this has all just been some walking fever dream, the end-result of too much stress from university and your job and all the villain attacks in the area. Your mind has clearly retreated to the last time you felt understood, safe, comfortable; aching for the hole left by the loss of your best friend, a hole that could never be filled no matter how much dirt you tried to shovel into it.

Your fingers fumble with the matches in the darkness of the bathroom. You were tempted to leave the door open, but your friend was clear on that count: it needs to be as dark as possible when you complete the ritual. 

There’s the telltale sound of the match strike, the faint scent of sulfur. And then the match is lit and you quickly hold it down towards the tea candles you set up on the bathroom counter. When they’re lit, the bathroom is less dim, but no less frightening. If anything, the flickering candlelight bouncing off the walls gives the room (and your reflection) a strangeness that makes your chest tighten.  

Just… do it. Do it and get it over with, and if nothing happens, then you can call a therapist to work through your clearly ongoing grief and stress issues. But if it does work, then maybe… maybe.

You exhale, closing your lips a little, and look straight into the mirror. 

“Touya… Touya… Touya.”

A moment, then another. Then another. 

But the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. There is no rippling, no blurring, no appearance of the ghost of your dead friend. Nothing at all, except your own tired face and the flickering yellow-orange light of candles. 

A low ache blooms in your chest. What were you expecting? That his ghost would show up in the mirror and forgive you for not being there for him, forgive you for letting his picture get dusty, forgive you for living the life he never did? 

You scoff at yourself, at the ember-lit reflection in the mirror.

And then the bathroom door behind you creaks open, and every nerve in your body stands on edge.

The reflection in the mirror does change, then. Not replacing yours but showing a figure standing behind you. Not just a figure--

Touya is standing behind you.

Only his hair is black and he is burnt and it’s Touya, Touya, Touya burnt from the fire and here to drag you to hell or drive you crazy or something incomprehensible in between.  

You turn, slowly, aware of his reflection in the mirror, aware of the way adrenaline has taken away your ability to feel your body.

“Touya,” you say, voice hoarse. I’m sorry, how are you, why are you here, why have you been haunting me--all these words stick to the roof of your mouth.

The specter grips your wrists with all-too-warm hands, and oh, oh, this is not a specter but flesh and blood before you, something twisted and wrong but wholly alive.

“Not anymore,” he breathes out, and he smells of sulfur and ash. 

The candles behind you all snuff into darkness at the same time. 

#yandere dabi #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest

[lanadelnegan]

idk if this one is too weird for you and i‘m anxious, but,,,

negan going down on you despite you being on your period and we realize he‘s into it a lot

*deletes myself*

nothing is too weird for me babe. let me clarify.. there is NOTHING.. and I mean NOTHING.. I wouldn't let negan fucking smith do to me. xx

Vampire

Negan x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving) while on your period, squirting

not the bloody mouth gif

"Not now, Negan." You turn away from him, holding your hand over the pain in your lower belly.

Negan slides into bed behind you, spooning you close. You can feel his erection pressed into your lower back and you wish you could please him, but you're too miserable to even move.

"What can I do to make it better, sweetheart?" He asks, bringing his hand down to your belly, replacing yours. The touch of his hand gentle rubbing you immediately relieves some of your pain and you relax into him further.

"Nothing.. but I.. want you to be satisfied." Your hand drifts behind your back, finding Negan's hard cock and rubbing it through his boxers.

He grips your wrist gently, pushing your hand away. "Don't worry about me, baby. It's okay." He kisses the side of your neck.

"No, I want to make you happy.."

Negan chuckles. "Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea how happy you make me. Relax, get some rest."

"No, Negan.. I want you.." You groan, frustrated that your period hormones always makes you so horny and desperate. You may not be in the mood for sex, but you want to make him feel good. "I want to make you cum.."

"Yeah?" He breathes into your neck, whispering softly. "I've got an idea, baby. You trust me?"

You nod, patiently waiting to see what he's got in mind.

The covers peel off of you, leaving you cold and exposed in nothing but your tank top and panties while Negan positions himself below you, urging you to lay on your back and spread your legs in front of his face.

Your eyes widen as you look down at him. "Negan, what are you-"

"You wanna make me cum, right baby?"

"Y-yes.."

"Lemme eat this pussy then." He slides your panties down your legs and you arch your back, helping him get them off. You can't believe he actually wants this right now. You've never messed around with anyone while on your period, and your cheeks redden with embarrassment.

"Negan, I'm - I'm bleeding down there.."

"I know what a period is, doll." He smirks up at you, spreading you apart and licking his lips at the sight of your red, swollen pussy.

He breathes in deep, hovering his nose right above your opening. "Lay back and let daddy make you feel good, baby."

You obey him, leaning your head back against your pillow and shutting your eyes. He trails light kisses along your inner thighs, moving closer to your center with each one. His last kiss presses against the crease of your bikini line before he slightly pulls his head back, eyeing your cunt as if he can't wait to dig in.

"My dick is hard as a fucking rock right now, baby... Just from the smell of you." His breath blowing against your clit as he whispers makes you shiver and you feel him spread your lips apart further before lightly dragging his tongue from your bloody hole to your clit.

"Mmm, fuck." He says against your clit, making it vibrate and your back arch.

His arms slide under your thighs, bringing his hands up to rest on your stomach as he pushes you down, not allowing you to move. Your legs are spread even further apart in this position and you lift your head up to look down at him.

He lightly licks at your clit as he stares up at you through his brows. Suddenly his warm mouth pulls away, leaving you cold and wanting more.

"Please don't stop." You beg.

"Wasn't planning on it, baby." Is all he says before his tongue dives deep into your wet hole, curling until it's flush against the walls of your swollen cunt. Your mouth gapes open as you watch his eyes roll to the back of his head and flutter shut at the taste of you.

"Negan!" You cry out as your hand drifts to his head between your legs and your fingers tangle and tug at his salt and pepper hair. He lets you push his head further as his tongue shoves deeper inside of you until you're sure it's soaked in blood.

He moves his tongue inside you so good that your hand falls from his head to grip the sheets beside you. You try to arch your back again but his hands are still firmly holding you in place, so you cry out loudly instead.

You lift your head again to watch him and he comes up for air, meeting your eyes. You instantly blush at the sight of your blood covering his lips and he grins lustfully, revealing even more red on his teeth.

"Negan, there's.. blood on you. All over you."

"Feel like a fucking vampire, doll... I need more." His voice is deep, desperate, and raspy as he watches your cunt, waiting for you to give him more of what he needs. "Push it out for me."

You flex the muscle in your pussy before pushing, immediately feeling a thick drop of liquid run down your slit. Negan groans as he watches the drop of blood slide down to your asshole before leaning in to catch it with his tongue. He swirls it around your tight hole before licking a stripe back up to your pussy.

"Oh my god.. Negan." You moan out, enticing him suck on your clit again. His tongue works against you eagerly as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His left hand suddenly leaves your stomach, reaching underneath himself to stroke his aching cock.

"Negan - stop, I'm, I'm gonna cum!"

"Fuck. Me too, baby." He whines against your clit, working his tongue harder and faster.

The thought of Negan cumming sends you over the edge and a rush of warm liquid squirts out of you, making Negan quickly dip his head lower so it lands in his mouth. He lets out a long, hoarse moan as a mix of your blood and juices fill his mouth. He swallows every drop down with ease before going back for seconds, collecting as much as he can like he can't get enough.

Moments of him drinking, moaning, and licking you clean pass by before he finally comes up for air.

"Goddamn, girl." He says out of breath. "Fucking love this time of the month."

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #jdmorgan #negan fanfiction #jdm x reader #twd negan #jdm fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdmfanfiction #negan smith #negan x you #negan x female reader #negan x reader #negan smut #negan smith smut #jdm smut #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jdm fanfic request #jdm fanfic #negan fanfic #the walking dead #twd #dead city negan #dead city #negan request #jdm request #daddy negan

[withleeknow]

quiet. (m)

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluffy-ish, suggestive content; unedited. minors dni. word count: 0.6k note: SO we had an evening of obsessing over lino yelling and being loud as fuck in general and it... might've awakened something in me so here ya go lol k bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

The second you walk into your bedroom, Minho's hands are on your waist, holding you with your back against the door.

"Hey," he says, voice dropping lower. It doesn't help your dilemma at all. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

"I don't know. You've been kinda quiet since earlier. Were the boys too much?"

It was yours and Minho's turn to host game this week. All of his friends came over and wherever that group goes, anarchy follows. They were beyond chaotic, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. At the end of the day, those goofballs are still some of the most lovable people you've ever met.

"No," you say, "everyone was fine."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I promise." It's cute that he seems genuinely concerned about this, that he thinks something must've happened to upset you in some way when it couldn't be further from the truth. You lean forward to press a quick kiss against his cheek, before you shrug, asking him, "Do you remember when Hyunjin kept interrupting you and you yelled at him to shut up so you could speak?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought it was hot."

Minho takes a moment to stare at you, and you watch in real time as the worry in his eyes slowly dissipates to make room for something else as the realization dawns on him. Twinkling amusement.

Then he chuckles, shoulders slightly sagging with relief, before he pulls you closer to his body, shortening the gap between your face and his before he lets his lips brush against yours. Not quite capturing your mouth with his. Just a ghost of a kiss.

"Is that why you were so quiet?" he mumbles against you. "You got turned on?"

"Hmm."

"Silly. Got me all worked up over nothing." Another chuckle, and suddenly he's bypassing your lips, much to your disappointment. Minho moves to kiss your cheek, then along your jawline before he starts trailing down your neck. "You liked my voice that much?"

"I always like your voice. You know that."

"Then what's different?" he asks, pressing his mouth against that spot that he knows you love. It makes your breath hitch instantly. "You liked that I was mean to Hyunjin? Want me to yell at you like that?"

You laugh lightly, baring your neck for him to mark. "I don't know. It just felt like you were... authoritative. It was hot."

"Yeah? You were thinking about it while everyone was there? You were thinking about me?"

You could tell that your admission strokes his ego, judging by the way his hands slowly drift southward to grab your ass, holding your hips flushed against his.

"I thought about a lot of things."

"What else?"

"Thought about what it'd be like if you were more like that with me," you say, but then you feel a stupid need to clarify what you really mean. "In bed."

Minho detaches his lips from you in an instant, though his hands are still on your body. He looks down at you with darkened eyes and mischief swimming in those beautiful irises. His gaze flickers briefly to your lips before he asks, "Do you want me to?"

For some reason, you feel a hint of shyness prickling at the edges. You asked for this, quite literally just now, but maybe it's the way that he's looking at you that's making you a tad nervous, like he's a predator and you're his prey.

"Yes," you confirm after a minute. "I want you to."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he takes a step back from you. The switch up is crazy, and coupled with the way his tone turns sultry in a blink of an eye, it's enough to make your head spin.

"Get on the bed," he tells you, palpable temptation dripping off every syllable.

"Minho..."

"On the bed. Don't make me say it again."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.11.2023]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee minho

[eyesthatroll]

TOUCH

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after game care

warning(s): none i believe, didn’t really hardcore edit this, though.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: is this cringe..? who knows. title is random, couldn’t really think of one. i kind of like this, though, i don’t know. as always, reblogs + constructive criticism are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well, thank you all for 700 followers! that is absolutely bonkers —mari <3

Jack turns the polished doorknob with a gentle, almost reverent touch. The door creaks open just wide enough for him to slip inside, his steps like whispers against the hardwood floor. He carefully eases the door closed, each inch moving with silent precision to preserve the serenity of the room.

His cautious efforts, however, seem almost futile as he enters the dimly lit space. The soft glow of a vintage lamp casts a warm, golden hue across the room, creating a cocoon of muted comfort. In the far corner of the cozy living room, there you were, curled up on the soft leather sectional, your presence barely stirring in the tranquil air. You were wrapped in a world of your own, ensnared by the allure of the latest book you had bought.

With a quiet sigh, he drops his bags by the door, kicking off his shoes, which land on the floor with a soft thud. Only then, did you finally lift your gaze, your awareness slowly dawning like the first light of day.

Pushing your glasses up to rest atop your head, your book becomes momentarily abandoned, your focus shifting toward your boyfriend. A tender smile graces your lips as you greet him, your voice carrying the warmth of affection, 'Hi, my love.'"

He offers you a small smile, his movements deliberate as he limps over to you, a testament to his eagerness to share a proper greeting despite the discomfort from his leg. Leaning in, he tilts his head downward, and his lips tenderly meet yours. He brings his calloused hands up to your face, cradling your cheeks with a delicate touch as his lips become one with yours.

The kiss lasts only for a few moments, before you're pulling away. As you draw back, a subtle frown creases your features, communicating your concern without uttering a word.

In the silent exchange of your expressions, Jack, attuned to your every nuance, shakes his head, discerning your worry. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

He attempts to offer you reassurance, but the subtle hesitation in the way he avoids putting his full weight on his left leg as he moves doesn't align with his words. "What happened to your foot?"

You had witnessed him take a harsh hit against the boards toward the end of the second period. And despite getting back up seemingly unscathed and returning for the third period, the discrepancy in his gait now raises questions.

"My knee," he clarifies, his voice gruff as he steps into the kitchen. He begins to rummage through the refrigerator until his fingers locate a chilled water bottle.

"Did you tell someone?"

Jack's stubbornness and unwavering commitment to hockey, even in the face of injuries, was well-known. He had a tendency to push himself beyond reasonable limits, insisting that he possessed an innate understanding of his body well enough to avoid serious harm. That sentiment did nothing to alleviate your persistent worry.

“No.”

Exhaling a sigh, you shake your head to yourself. “Jack, why n–”

“Leave it alone, baby, please. I’m tired, my body hurts, and I just want to go to bed.”

“Fine.” Dropping your hands in surrender, you end the conversation there. You knew that pushing the conversation any further would only fan the flames of an argument that you had no energy to occupy.

Jack trudges sluggishly upstairs, and you steal a few moments to gather wits about you, before closing your book, leaving it to rest on the coffee table, extinguishing the warm glow of the lamp before heading upstairs.

Upon entering your shared bedroom, you find Jack sitting at the edge of the bed, midway through the process of undressing. He struggles to remove his shirt, wincing in discomfort before abruptly halting.

"Your shoulder too?" You ask, closing the distance between the two of you. As you approach, he subtly spreads his legs to make room for you, and you slip into the space in between them with ease. With a gentle touch, your right hand rises, tucking away the stray, overgrown brown locks that obscure his face.

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, you take hold of the bottom hem of his shirt, carefully drawing it up and over his head. A hiss of discomfort escapes his lips as his arms are lifted above his head, revealing the pain he had been silently enduring.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you?" you ask, your voice carrying a tender note as you tilted your head slightly at him.

He shakes his head. "Will you rub my back?"

Your teeth graze over your bottom lip.

"Of course I will. Let me grab some lotion, okay?" You assure him with a small smile, leaning in to plant a quick, reassuring kiss against his forehead. Stepping out of his grasp, you make your way to your ensuite bathroom, where you retrieve a bottle of lotion from the counter beside the sink.

Upon your return to the bedroom, you find Jack laying on his stomach, his pants discarded, leaving him clad in only his boxer shorts. Quietly, you cross over to his side of the bed, and with a gentle grace, you mount his legs, straddling him intimately with your own legs positioned on either side.

Gazing down at him, your fingers delicately traverse the landscape of overwhelming redness that adorns his back. A sympathetic ache washes over you as you thought of the pain he must be enduring.

Reaching for the lotion bottle at your side, you squeeze a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Rubbing your hands together, you diligently work the lotion into a softened lather before gingerly pressing your palms onto his back. With a mindful touch, you apply moderate pressure, your nimble fingers skillfully working to unravel the knots of tension that had taken up residence along the contours of his back.

"Are you okay? I don't wanna hurt you," you murmur, with genuine concern. In response, a soft groan escapes his lips, and his hand reaches out to give your thigh a reassuring squeeze, conveying both his appreciation and trust in your touch.

A half an hour unfolds as you devotedly work your skilled hands across his back, your focus honed on the stubborn kinks in his shoulders. Your touch becomes more assertive, a firm pressure applied to those strained areas, eliciting soft grunts of relief from Jack.

It's not until you reach for more lotion that you notice the steady rise and fall of his chest, a sign that he had drifted off to sleep.

With a slowed motion, you lean forward, your lips softly gracing the middle of his shoulder blades with a soft kiss. A sweet, wordless expression of your affection.

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction

[weepingchronicles]

platonic yandere hunter headcanons

tw/cw: yandere behavior, stalking, creepy(?), drugging(tranquilizers), guns mentioned, hunting obviously, cussing, kidnapping

a/n: i guess this is my first yandere oc? I don't know if he'll ever have a name or background but I'll just call him hunter

He acts like a friendly neighbour at first and for right now that's all he is.

To be honest, there is something slightly off about him.

The way you've never seen him without a weapon of some kind draped across his back. Or the way he leers and asks you questions slightly too personal.

"Where are your parents?" "Oh, are you close with them?" "Aw, that's a shame."

Still he was nice, enough. He never crossed a line. If he saw you getting uncomfortable his teasing and questions immediately stopped. So, that must be a green flag?

During winter, you had stopped hiking and going out to the trail you normally would. I guess the time spent away from you made Hunter fall deeper into his obsession with you.

He'd follow you to the grocery store, dentist, whenever you'd leave your house. He'd justify thinking it's just to keep you safe but didn't clarify on what.

During this, he'd learn more about you. Your habits, schedule and personal life.

You didn't have a good home life as far as he can tell. Sometimes he'd hear shouting within your house right before you burst out and slam the door to walk off some steam.

He thought he could treat you better, give you the home he thought you deserve. He had begun to think he knew you better than anyone else did.

Once you're back in the forest again is when he'd slowly force himself into your life.

He'd somehow "bump" into you whenever you're hiking and escort you. Saying "It's too dangerous for a kid like you to be walkin alone out here." You were creeped out to be honest but he was somewhat right.

Although he was actually pleasant to be around, one time he took you to the river and helped you catch a fish. He offered to help you cook it back at his place but you declined.

Other times were more silent but eventful, you'd both sit and enjoy the nature breeze, the birds. Sometimes when you were lucky a deer would run by, blessing you with its innocent presence.

You asked why he hadn't shot it, considering his job is to hunt.

"Because I'm with you, kiddo."

The more time you spent with him, coincidental or not, you slowly began to open up. He somehow knew your likes and dislikes in which you couldn't help but ramble about when brought up, he found it entertaining.

All your baggage too began to untangle. You'd talk about your problems with your family and how you go out into nature to get away from it all. It becomes your only safe space.

Hunter understood easily, he was always attentive when you talked of your parents but you failed to notice the murderous look in his eyes whenever he heard something that ticked him off a little too much.

You began to see Hunter as a father figure. I mean, he'd comfort you when you were sad, took you out fishing. He was more of a father than your biological one.

One day after fishing, he asked you if you wanted to go back to his cabin and cook it. He'd always ask you but always declined, but this time you actually felt safe enough to accept.

Hunter was delighted and drove you to his cabin further into the woods.

It was a lot nicer than you expected, you think it would look like a cabin from a horror movie or something but it was newly furnished or just well kept.

Hunter told you sit down and get comfy while he prepared the fish.

You did so in the living room. He gave you some hot tea but you never actually drank it, being far more interested in his home.

Hunter never talked about himself or family, you thought maybe it was because he was divorced or just secretive about personal things.

But as you roamed around the living room you noticed there were no framed photos at all.

Well, there was one. It was a photo he has taped on his window above the sink with him and you. You had caught your first fish and he wanted to take a photo to celebrate which you begrudgingly complied.

You roamed around more, careful with your footsteps to not make any creaking. You didn't want him to think you're snooping, I mean you are, but not in a bad way!

You came across a room that was slightly ajar enough to peek in. It was his bedroom.

His bed was messily made and on the dresser were empty or half empty beer bottles. Leaning on the wall were a couple shotguns, you didn't know if they were loaded or not. The only innocence misportraying his room were these lilacs in a vase you had collected on a hike with him. They were slightly dying, hunched in posture while a couple petals fell.

You roamed around more, you found the bathroom down the hall and passed the kitchen without Hunter noticing as he was cooking.

You had looked in every room so far besides the basement.

It was sketchy you will admit, but maybe that was your guilty conscience punishing you for snooping around.

You had went down a couple of steps and there was a hall. Most of the rooms down the hall were normal, for extra storage, that kinda thing.

You made your way down to the final door. It had a slide bolt lock and was probably the only door where the paint was peeling.

You figure it was just another storage room or maybe a place to keep his guns..(why would he need that kind of lock anyway?)

You open the room and peek inside, you find a light switch and turn it on. The room is ghostly cold, making you scrunch up your shoulders in chills.

What... the fu-

Your mouth fell slightly agape. The room had posters of your favorite media and characters plastered on the walls. On one side was a dresser and on-top were some of your childhood plushies that mysteriously went missing awhile ago.

"What the fuck is this.."

The most scariest part to you was that in the center was an old mattress covered by a thick blanket and few pillows. Alongside was a long chain connecting to the wall, it was meant for someone.

Your heartbeat sped up, Hunter was not who you thought he was.

You quickly ran out and went upstairs again, standing in the hall where you could hear Hunter humming to himself while cooking.

You froze there for a couple seconds, debating on what to do. You could just make a run for it but you don't know the way back home and it would take forever to get back on foot. Plus, he has guns. The other option was to pretend everything was fine, all good. You didn't know how well you could that, putting a hand to your chest made you feel your frenzied heartbeat. What if he knew something was up and killed you? What if you pretend and stay but he kills you anyway?

Your thoughts began to blur as if you were a deer caught in headlights, you only snapped out of it once you heard Hunter calling your name.

"There you are! What's wrong?"

You felt your lip twitch, control yourself.

"I- I was looking for the bathroom." You felt your throat suddenly dry up, like you've just been in the sahara desert.

Hunter chuckled at this and gestured to the bathroom that was just further down the hall.

His smile faltered when he realized you wouldn't move yet when he reached out to your shoulder, you instinctively backed away.

"Kiddo?" He said, slightly confused and panicked. He looks down to the basement and saw the door was still open.

Realization hit him and he was trying to muster up an explanation, anything.

But you were already running, you didn't have enough time to put on shoes so you were running on only your socks.

You tried to remember the path you came from, you couldn't just run down the road he'd easily drive by and catch you. Everything in the woods looked different as the sun began to set and the sky was cast with an orange hue, it was almost more alive than in the daytime.

You didn't stop to look behind you, only running as fast as your wobbly knees could take you but you could hear your name being called in the distance which somehow urged you to sprint faster.

Fuck, maybe your parents were right in saying to do Track and Field. You were panting, your chest felt itchy and your cheeks burned yet felt cold all at the same time. You knew you couldn't yet stop though.

Finally, once you couldn't hear your name being called is when you stopped by a large stone.

You tried to contain your breaths but they came out in only puffs as you regained control of yourself.

How the fuck were you supposed to get home now!?

In a state of hopelessness you began to softly cry. You came into the woods because it was your safe space but all you want to do right now is be back home on your bed.

Before you went into a full breakdown, you heard the familiar call of your name again.

Hunter.

You gasp and hide behind the large stone, accidently falling in a small river and biting your lip at the freezing water.

You peek out the best you can without revealing your hiding spot.

You see the blurry image of Hunter walking, is he...

Is he holding a gun!?

"Kiddo!? Come here, I'm not going to hurt you. Let's just go back to the cabin and get you warmed up."

'Um, I think I rather freeze to death out here, thanks.'

You knew he was getting closer as the creaks in the twigs and leaves louden.

Feeling you have no choice but to make a run for it, you do. Either he finds you hiding, shoots you or you run and he tries to shoot you.

"(Y/N)! Come back here now!"

Is this guy really trying to get you to come back willingly? Why is he not shooting?

"Come back or I'll shoot!" Oh, there it is.

You don't stop running however, you run in a zig zag motion to make it hard for him to shoot but I guess he never told you how good of a shot he was.

A shot came to your left calf and another at your shoulder, making you crash into the dirt and solid ground in front of you. You thought it would hurt more, a bullet ripping into your flesh like a fucking parasite. But what you felt was stinging.

Yeah, it still fucking hurt but it wasn't a pain you expected from a bullet wound. In that last moment you have consciousness, you turn over peering down at your calf and seeing a dart poke right into it.

A dart?

Hunter rushes by your side, finally catching up to you.

Your instincts urge you to escape but a numbness spreads throughout your body, making your eyelids so very heavy.

He lifts your head in his hands, caressing your hair and brushing away dirt on your face.

"Shh, it's okay now. Just go to sleep, everything will be okay once you wake up."

You tried to move, run, protest, anything! But it felt like someone put a weighted blanket over you, or more like ten blankets.

You began to lose consciousness and your eyesight blackening. You could feel your wrists and ankles getting tied together. You were pulled over what felt like Hunter's shoulders, as if you were a freshly caught deer. Maybe that's how he saw you.

You didn't have much of a say either way as he trudged further into the woods again, carrying you.

a/n: woop yay!! my first original character! feel free to ask any questions bout him, if you have any. I might make a part 2 to this when I feel like it but I have a bunch of other requests to do at the moment. also let's not talk about how it's almost 6 am and I'm writing this

#platonic yandere #yandere #soft yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere original character #oc #original character