#fuck i need to take my mind off it or ill die

[dean-winchesters-clit]

I am getting the very strong and autistic urge to recreate Stede's goldfish tail now that I've seen the detailed bts photos.

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #our flag means death season 2 #stede bonnet #the gentleman pirate #ofmd #merman stede #mermaid stede #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death s2 spoilers #i dont even think it would be that hard #just time consuming #some stretchy fabric #a bit of chiffon #a monofin that i already own #some sewing and painting and there you have it! #fuck i need to take my mind off it or ill die

[pupcuck]

ROTTEN LUCK !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. smut, kidnapping, leon is like mentally gone icl, references to past assault and trauma, non-con, manipulation, suicidal thoughts/reference to an attempt, general leon self destructive behaviour, physical abuse, power dynamics, throatfucking, choking, breath play, somno, 1 instance of drugging, unmentioned age gap, anal, he puts duct tape on your pussy ok just once promise it’s not bad, religious references, 1 mention of vomit and piss not in a sexual way, slight misogyny, panic attack

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

anyway, please ignore typos :3 rbs and feedback is very appreciated :3 my medical knowledge sucks, so keep in mind that all of this is off LMFAO crossposted to ao3 (user clitkiss)

two

Lucky. Leon hates that word. He wasn’t lucky to get out of Raccoon City, he was just barely capable, you have to be unlucky to get into that situation in the first place. You’re a lucky guy, Redfield had told him once, Chris not Claire. Claire isn’t daft. And Leon wonders what is so lucky about him. He’s forty-six and all he’s got is his trusty Matilda, his mother’s old Bible, and a failing liver. His luck is preordained by God and it’s a total sham.

Leon Kennedy’s the one who showed up to drill sessions smelling like sweat and cock. Kennedy’s the one that rolls over onto his front and takes it like a good doggy. Kennedy’s green behind the ears, pretty in the face, and that don’t fare well in a boot camp full of men twice his size. Kennedy’s the one brushing shoulders with the President, got the USA’s most prized dick in his mouth and everyone knows that he wouldn’t dare bite down. Golden boy Leon fucking Scott Kennedy would just go ahead and use his tongue to clean up Graham’s ballsack. And you’re calling that lucky? Bullshit.

The DSO’s modus operandi is strikingly similar to that of the BSAA. He is but a cog in a well oiled machine. There’s one difference, not a dog tag to his name. If he dies, then he’ll die nameless, and he’ll be cremated by something nuclear, and it’ll all be for nothing. Ain’t that just the luckiest thing you’ve ever heard?

He has tried to kill himself once or twice or thrice. He lost count after the fifth. The gun jammed once, a bad joke. Left Matilda rendered useless. Was meant to be him, not her. And if Leon’s being honest, every day is an avid attempt, as in the drinking and praying his liver gives out. Once he managed to get halfway there. Doesn’t remember a lot. Just blood. Lots of blood. Why couldn’t you be quiet about your grief, Leon? Claire’s expression had asked, how I am, how Chris is, how Jill is.

‘Cause he couldn’t. He had to go ahead and splatter his grief all over the linoleum floor. Maybe then someone would find him, and they’d mourn him, and they’d feel sorry for him ‘cause he’d pitied himself enough. Leon told her a joke, yapping away like one of those butterscotch lapdogs. Claire said that in South Korea you’re allowed to snip a dog's vocal cords to stop them from barking. Lucky I’m not in South Korea then. She handed him an orange prescription bottle with his name scrawled on it, and that was that. They didn’t speak for a few months.

Once upon a time Sherry needed him, now he needs her more. Needs her to laugh at his jokes, she’s the only one that does. And he needs her to tell him, I love you, Leon. She’s the only one that says that. No one puts up with him like Sherry does. She puts up with him in the way most women do their fathers. Love their dads unconditionally and nothing can ever fix that. Terrible illness that is. So, yeah, Leon Scott Kennedy is far from lucky. Lonely? Oh, for sure. God. He’s so lonely he feels sorry for himself. That’s one thing Leon has always been good at though. Lending himself a shoulder ‘cause no one else will.

His fingers brush yours in the record store. The hairs on the back of his neck stand. Jesus. Is it getting that bad? Leon’s been without a fuck for a few months and he’s already itching. That’s a new low. When Leon looks up to catch sight of who made his dick swell with their fingertips, he catches your eye briefly. A mousy little thing. Easily spooked it seems by the nervous smile you give him.

You’re on the phone, I don’t know what he likes anymore, dad, yeah—I’m trying to find it—Yes, I know who sang Sex and Candy, dad, Kurt Cobain right? Is that the one he likes? Dumbass. No, I’m not wrong, could you put mom on the phone—Hi mom, yes, I know he’s my brother, mom—Ever since he turned fifteen he stopped talking to me properly—I don’t know what she thinks, mom—

A mommy, daddy, a brother, a sister too he assumes. You’re what they call lucky. Nasty undertone you’re using with your parents. If Leon’s mom was still around he’d talk to her so sweet. She’d tell him to pray and Leon wouldn’t resist. Alright, Ma, Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus Tecum— then his voice would trail off, and he’d pretend to mouth the rest of the hymn ‘cause he remembers fuck all.

He wants to knock you around. Shake you till your brains scramble. Wants you to flinch even when he’s being nice. Leon’s nostrils flare when you raise your voice in the slightest, even if it’s playful, it’s plain rude. How dare you? He can’t even begin to fathom how incredibly lucky you are. The thought crosses Leon’s mind once, twice, thrice. Just how suicide did that day back in September. If you can kidnap the President’s daughter from her bustling college campus, throw her over your shoulder like salt, why can’t you kidnap Miss Nobody from a street corner in D.C?

Your figure is distinguished by a single, flickering street lamp. He sees your shadow. Recognises the silhouette by the shapely legs and how your belted coat flares out to create a dramatic hourglass, Leon’s got a good eye for detail. Oh, it’s kinda sexy watching you in the spotlight, like a makeshift cabaret show, go on babe, bust out the flapper dress, he knows his stuff, he read Gatsby back in high school. He listens out for the tap of your heeled boots, click-clack, click-clack, there you are, you don’t even know what’s about to happen, do you? And it really is that easy. Just like throwin’ salt over your shoulder.

Temazepam, loprazolam, lormetazepam, diazepam, nitrazepam. Some melatonin too. Magnesium’s supposed to help with insomnia. How’s he supposed to know what your body reacts to best? Leon’s not your fuckin’ GP. Chloroform does the trick for everyone. Should’ve invited you out for drinks and roofied you instead.

Leon had gone for an old-fashioned method, listen, he was desperate. He doesn’t usually resort to such bruteish tactics unlike the older Redfield, not that Chris would use a morsel of his strength to harm a lady, but it had to be done. Yes, he choked you out. No, he’s not proud of it. He’s actually pretty disappointed in his lack of preparation. Oh, cut yourself some slack, Kennedy, it’s your first time kidnapping someone, and it was a heat of the moment type thing. To Leon’s dismay, that doesn’t last long, duh, he should know better.

While you regain sluggish consciousness on his couch, Leon’s tearing through his kitchen cabinets for anything to settle you down. Ah. That’s right. Ketamine. Ain’t it horse tranquilliser? What’s that doing here? Honestly, he’s got to stop raiding the infirmary for all they’ve got. A high enough dosage will knock you out for sure. If it kills you, then so be it. Beer for guys, wine for the ladies, and Ketamine for random sluts he picks up on street corners.

You’re blinking to clear your hazy vision, feeling around your crushed windpipe to assess the damage, he leans over you like a nurse from hell. The needle breaks your skin easily, so tender, before you have the chance to kick up a fuss, your eyelids turn to lead and close like a toy babydoll’s do when you lean them back.

Fifteen to twenty minutes, google says. Leon gets down to business, strips you of your clothing, takes you to his room, throws you on the king-sized bed that’s warmed only by him. He kept your panties on. They’re light blue and sensible briefs. A buzzer rings out in his head, bzzzt, boring. A million bitches in D.C. and he picked out the most vanilla one. Just his Kennedy luck ain’t it.

One minute. Leon presses his nose to the fabric of your panties, sniffs like a pig does in its trough, isn’t that just the sweetest smell? Fresh cunt. He licks up the print of your pussy, tongue landing on the hardness of your clit.

Five minutes. With your panties soaked with Leon’s spit, he decides to move ‘em to the side, and he groans in delight when he parts your cushioned lips to find that you’re stickier than toffee pudding, drooly cunt reactive to the pads of his fingers, to the tip of his tongue. He pushes back the hood of your bud, gives it a kiss, then another.

Ten minutes. He’s opened you up, gaped you around three thick fingers, Jesus, you’re so tight. It’s like your cunt’s vacuum sealed. Leon’s fingers prod at the squishy opening of your cervix, his thumb circles your clit, presses down like a button and he’s rewarded with another gush of slick. Beer on tap.

You rouse from your forced slumber at fourteen minutes. Huh. He’ll have to up the dosage next time. “Hi there, sleepin’ beauty.” Leon says in a rather cloying voice, amping up the sweetness when in reality he is less than fond of you. The lucky girl. He strokes your head soothingly, hovers over you to keep you in place. The panic sets in almost immediately, flailing limbs, asinine attempts at sentences that crawl up your throat and spill over. Who are you, get off me, get off me, please. What did I do? I’m sorry, please, let me go, let me go, please, I’ll do anything. Albeit your words are slurred, Leon chooses not to hear you.

“Aintcha just the sweetest thing?” He cups your cheeks, gaze so gentle it’s disarming. “I opened you up, didn’t wanna break ya, just wanted you to wake up before we got it on, I’m a real gentleman, you see.” Before he rapes you, he makes sure to ask: you got a rubber by any chance, sweetheart? Oh, and you don’t like that, you really don’t. ‘Cause your face falls fast like a drop tower ride.

The chance to scream is lost on you when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushes them down your burning throat till you choke and drool in an unflattering manner. Your jaw is too lax to clamp down on him. Leon takes this opportunity to smear his leaky, fat tip over your folds, pushes past the barriers of resistance and slides into your pre-gaped cunt. Lucky bitch. Lucky fucking bitch. Getting yourself a piece of Leon S. Kennedy’s dick. He reserves that for only the finest ladies, aka any girl that has a nice set of tits and dark hair, greying roots are a new preference.

He’s fully sheathed inside of you, head rubbing painfully against your cervix. Bruising it from the look of discomfort on your face as you make stupid-sounding noises around his fingers. “Fuck, yeah, that hits the spot.” When’s the last time Leon had his way with a girl, wanton fucking, pulling hair, slapping— they all want it soft and sappy these days. And so did he up until a certain point. Up until he tried to kill himself maybe. Something must’ve flipped in his brain, now he’s overcome with the need to mess your pretty face up.

Leon’s forehead presses to your clammy one, your sweat is salty on his tongue when he kisses your cheek. Slightly sour scent, ugh, what’s he saying? Acting like he’s a fear-smelling B.O.W or some shit. Fuck off, Kennedy. His hips aim upwards when your body shifts due to the thrashing you’re doing, with each thrust he bottoms out with a wet squelch, rolls his hips into you at a force that knocks any chance of breath out of you.

“If you were a good girl,” Leon smiles, all teeth. They glint in the muddy darkness of his room, black-out curtains drawn so not even the moon gets to see what he’s doing to you, “then I’d be fuckin’ you real slow, real nice, rub that little clit till you came.” Your wrists are both cuffed within his grip, pinned over your head as he drives into you, as if his intention is to tear straight through you.

The heat in his gut uncoils, but he’s timed himself well enough, pulls out ‘cause god forbid he knocked you up. Knowing Leon’s luck he’d manage it. Then he puts his cock in your mouth, “I got some pliers out back.” He says in warning as he jerks the shaft and your lips hesitantly close around the tip when he gives you a mean look. Total lie by the way, no matter how abnormal Leon is he does not own a pair of tooth-pulling pliers. Shoots his load down your throat, you splutter and push at his abdomen to get him off.

He pulls out in his own time, lays beside you. All of his chakras are aligned. Apparently there’s seven, but Leon’s only got two. And they’re entirely dependent on whether he’s sucked and fucked till he’s thoroughly satisfied. By god he is. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. That’s the rest of it right. He remembers now. You might just be his saving grace, Lucky Girl. His very own Sancta Maria, Mater dei. Damn, you hear that, ma? Leon’s got it down to a T. Maybe some more pussy will get him singing out the rest of the prayer. He can get rid of that statuette on the mantle, swap it out with you.

He doesn't get a word out by the time you’re vomiting a vile mixture of acidic yellow and his seed down the front of your chest. Retching as you choke on the gift he’d given you.

Leon takes you to the bathroom, forces you into the shower cubicle as he sprays you down, not even waiting for the water to go warm. “Dry yourself off,” he gestures mildly to where there’s a few towels stored.

You don’t come back out of the bathroom for five minutes, then ten, then twenty. Don’t even answer when he knocks. Goddammit, Leon. Leave your kidnap victim alone in the room with all the razors, why don’t you? Fucking idiot. When he opens the door, you’re huddled in the corner by the toilet, dry heaving into the bowl and sitting in a puddle of your own piss. Stupid fucking baby. Is this what kids are like these days? When he was your age he made it out of Raccoon City alive, and no one made it out of there. No one lived to tell that story. And you’re here pissing your pants ‘cause he’s given you a nice, hard fucking? He pimp slaps you so hard your teeth clatter.

It takes two weeks for his Lucky Girl to be broken in. Not as long as he expected, so he’s pleased. And when Leon’s pleased, he’s nice. So today you get some screen time. You’re curled into his side, the way a baby bird does under its mother’s wing, squinting at his sixty-five inch TV, egregious really, who needs a screen that big? He’s flipping periodically through the channels whenever an ad break comes on. The 7.45PM news is on. He settles on that and you watch mindlessly, no objections.

The speech blurs like white noise to him, Leon’s not focused until your picture pops up on screen, and he just turns to you with this shit-eating grin. Graduation cap and robe on, all dolled up as you make eyes at him through the screen.

“Baby,” he grins wolfishly, ruffles your hair in a teasing manner, “you look so damn cute there!” Leon watches bright-eyed, suddenly enthralled, they list your name, your height, your weight, all stuff he actually didn’t know ‘bout you. Never bothered to ask. You don’t need a name, you’re just his Lucky Girl. “Don’t like the red lip on you,” he comments flippantly, “A red lip is for whores, don’t you think, baby?”

He was right. You got a daddy, a mommy, a brother and a sister. You’ve got it all. Lucky fucking Girl. A broken sob is torn from your throat, jagged and scratchy as you fling yourself halfway across the room, on your knees as you put your grubby fingers all over his shiny screen. Leon lets you. He finds it hilarious actually. Who’d you think you are? Carol Anne from Poltergeist? Like you’re gonna get sucked into the screen, crawling out the other end like Sadako, back into your daddy’s arms.

Our daughter—My girl, she had her whole life ahead of her—My sister wouldn’t do this—She was so excited to move on after graduation—She’s not the type to run away—My daughter—My sister—Our sister—

Your mother is a mess, barely able to get words out with the way she’s blubbering. “She’s layin’ it on a bit thick, don’t you think, babe?” Leon picks up his beer from the side table, slightly heated under the burn of the lamp. “You look like your daddy, cry pretty like your mama though.”

You stare at him horrified. Jaw hanging open as if it’s unhinged, not in the way a snake does when ready to swallow its prey whole. More in the way of a screaming corpse. When the rigor mortis has worn off, secondary flaccidity sets in, and the mandible drops open. Jeez, tough crowd tonight it seems. Don’t make him sew your mouth up, Lucky Girl. Leon wouldn’t dare, that mouth, that throat is precious to him.

CCTV footage plays on the screen, another sob racks your brittle frame, you didn’t know it was him that day, Leon realises. “Oh, baby, that’s where we met, ain’t that funny?” A blurry image of you on the phone, prattling away to your family like the Lucky Girl you are, he’s just out of shot.

We miss her—Please, if you know anything, if you find anything—Please—

“God, let me get my phone, darling, they look so upset I can’t stand it. I might have to call them up and turn myself in. Give ‘em an early Christmas gift, don’t you think?” If Leon went missing, who would look for him? Hunnigan with all her sharp edges, or Claire with her unwilling loyalty to him? Lucky Bitch. It’s making his temper flare, that’s enough TV time for today.

The screen fades out, goes black when he switches it off. “No, no, no,” you chant, “no, no, no, no, please, please—“

“I’m disappointed in you, baby.” Leon says honestly, sips his beer and laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you’d started to like me.”

You’re not listening, too busy fitting on the rug, grasping at the screen as if you can pluck your family out of it and reunite with them on his living room floor. Leon did think you were getting used to him though. Family’s family, blood is thicker than water. Cum is also thicker than water. And that’s what he’s pumped down your throat nightly in hopes of it clogging up your brain, so you think of nothing but him. Those dogs in South Korea, the ones Claire told him about, he’s got his own special method to take care of your vocal cords. No snipping, no surgery needed. Just the throat training method.

“C’mere, lucky girl.” He clicks his tongue as if he’s calling out for a dog. You lay unmoving, rocking back and forth, whispering to yourself like a crazy person. Bit creepy. Leon stands, he grabs you by the hair and drags you to sit at his feet near the couch. Simple and effective. Backhands you for good luck. He needs it. “Stop your cryin’ I’m getting sick of it.” Leon says, brows wrinkled as he lowers his sweats, brings your head down to rest on his thigh. Your tear-stained cheeks turn him on, the doleful eyes, runny nose. It’s hot. His sad little girl.

“Suck it.” Leon taps the tip against your pouty lips, swollen from his earlier kisses, coats them in his pearly pre, “I won’t ask twice, sweetheart.” You open your mouth, take him like clockwork. He don’t like that attitude. So he pushes your head down on his cock, watches your throat bob, uncomfortably full. Leon pinches your nose, listens to how you panic so nice around a mouthful of dick, gagging in a way you never have before. Not a gag that indicates inexperience, but one that is full of sheer terror, nails leaving red marks on his thighs as you drag them down his skin. Ouch. He’s gotta trim those down.

“You get it now, babe?” Leon hums, he lets you off this time, “Do what I say and it’ll be fine, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Leon,” you nod furiously through gulps of air, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Fuck. Another one of your panic attacks. He’s not got the patience to deal with this. “I won’t—“ A wheeze, “ I won’t do it—“ A croak, “I won’t do it again.” You’ve learned to handle yourself. Rub your chest with your right hand, stare at the ceiling till you calm down. Leon’s dick is still rock hard. Ready to crack open a walnut.

“Good girl,” he nods, “then get on with it.”

There is nothing you’ve done in particular to set Leon off. He’s just had a bad day. Hunnigan’s senses are much too acute, she thought something was off with him. That put him on edge. So he’s like a ticking time bomb. Just waiting for you to make one wrong move. And you do. You say no to him, pleadingly so, shaking your head as you look at him with your fairytale fawn eyes. Meekly admit that you’re sore and achy and it hurts.

“That’s not your decision to make, sweetheart.” Leon informs you, he grabs a roll of duct tape from the kitchen, nicks at the edge with his teeth and tears a strip off. You bristle, completely still, a thousand thoughts running through that pea-sized brain of yours. “But I’ll be nice today, been waitin’ to fuck your ass anyway.” He puts the strip on your cunt, over your chubby lips to hold them together, it feels strange and icky. The last thing Leon wants to see is blood. He sees enough of that daily. So he’s generous when it comes to prep, busts out the cherry-flavoured lube today, squirts a decent amount on his fingers, cock, and your tighter hole.

You squirm, he watches the unreadable expression on your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest. You’re nervous, but you’re wet, and that makes his chest swell in pride. Lucky Girl finally gets it. One finger slips past the ring of tight muscle, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, there’s one last line he’s missing. It’ll come to him. Two fingers in, he scissors you open, spits on it just ‘cause it turns him on to see it run down your crack.

That’s enough, Leon thinks when he fits the third. He wants to make it hurt a little. Wants to feel like a big, strong man. He sits back on his knees, flips you over onto your front, he likes you this way. Just takes you in, how your tits hang low, brushing against the mattress when Leon presses a hand down on your back to keep you from arching. He takes his dick in hand and in he goes, easier than he thought. He wonders if you can cum just like this, with his dick pounding your ass.

He fucks like an animal, you gasp and yelp below him, unable to handle it as his hips smack against yours. The duct tape is starting to peel ‘cause your pussy is fucking soaked. That alone makes his balls tighten as he turns you back over to do damage control, and ‘cause he wants to see your face while he fucks. You look like you’re lovin’ it. Alright. So you’re an anal slut. Got it. He pushes back into your ass, groans when you clench around him, the duct tape peeling at the corners, he can’t handle it. Et in hora mortis nostrae. Leon’s mind blanks when he cums, fills your ass and his limp cock slips out. Shit. A-fucking-men. That’s right, he remembers. That’s how you end a prayer.

You don’t cum. He tears the duct tape off clean. You let out a loud ‘Ow, Leon!’ and frown at him. Beads of arousal stick to the piece of tape, your pussy is pulsing, walls fluttering around nothing. Leon kisses your swollen clit, rubs it steadily till you cream on his tongue, sweeter than molasses his Lucky Girl is.

“Leon?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.” You tell him shyly, gaze at him with this dumb fucking smile on your dollface that makes his heart squeeze. God, he’s gotta keep you around, his lucky charm.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader

[leviathanofdeath]

rotb spoilers

watched it again. need to talk about Mirage.

im thinking abt how Mirage was peeping in on Noah's brothers room . he was just curiously watching them, trying to be sneaky but accidently crushing the car under him (of course cuz he is huge) and then accidentally smacking his head on a rail, causing his lights to turn on. very silly typical Mirage thing. He really went home with Noah and then instead of staying put he wanted to see what Noah was up to ♡ and then him promising Kris that he'll protect Noah no matter what, even receiving a walkie talkie to make sure. I fucking love that shit. even before Noah got in the car, Mirage was fucking with him by continously locking the car door. you cannot tell me its not love at first sight GRAHHH

Mirage defending Noah in front of everyone. explaining that he already likes Noah just from the little cop car chase, and that he thinks the human is cool! I love how attached he already became. and him saying "I cross my spark, hope to die" and realizing how cheesy it sounded. literally Gold

And i noticed that Mirage is always near Noah. Hes always close to him in some way. Whether it be in his garage, outside his apartment, walking/standing next to Noah, giving him the little gauntlet thingy so they can at least communicate and Noah can protect himself. They're always together, and hes always keeping his promise. hes so dedicated to protecting Noah.

the death scene. Mirage confidently saying hes going to deal with Scourge while Noah and Elena go to enter the code, even tho he knows he isn't going to win. But Noah immediately stops as soon as Mirage gets downed. And then he's there, about to get hit when Mirage covers him. Literally dying on top of him. Losing an arm and a leg just to keep Noah safe, to keep his promise. are u serious. And its not until this moment Noah realizes what's being taken from him and he begins to freak out because!! Mirage is Dying! And after he does, Noah almost gives up. He is devastated; he's lost someone. He says he can't move, he can't do anything, and its his brothers words that help him regain his composure.

And then luckily, Mirage comes back with a quip and tells Noah to take the wheel. And Noah does. And Mirage continues to protect Noah. HE CONTINUES TO SHIELD NOAH EVEN AFTER HE'S LOST SO KUCH OF HIMSELFN!@ HES WILLING TO DIE FOR NOAH!!! HE DID DIE FOR HIM!!

because of mirage, Noah was able to meet Elena and get that key. because of mirage, Noah was able to enter the temple and receive the codes for said key. because of Mirage, Noah helped save the world. all because an alien had to keep a promise and thought that Noah was cool.

now listen if that ain't complete and utter infatuation then idk what is

and Noah deciding to not sell Mirage is SO IMPORTANT. He originally went to take the key from the museum because he wanted to be able to sell Mirage for cash and save the planet, so seeing Noah go through so many changes throughout the film and then eventually changing his mind is so impactful. when he took the Mirage suit off, he was looking at it so fondly because he realized now that he can't get rid of Mirage. Mirage became special. he then began to use spare parts to build Mirage back up, stating that its his car and he's not gonna sell it no matter what because Mirage is special. Mirage saved his life and this is what Noah is doing to pay him back.

IM SOOO ILL I LOVE GAY PEOPLE !!!!

#tf mirage #transformers mirage #transformers rise of the beasts #tf rotb #transformers #noah diaz #mirage x noah

[bucksangel]

okay you’re straight up ATTACKING ME!!!! It’s been two days and i’m still losing my mind (which is the natural response to seeing sebastian) this will be quick but it’s giving me soooo many ideas😫😫

pairing: alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

word count: 870

warnings: 18+ minors dni, mention of oral (f receiving), alpha!bucky being a complete menace, kinda dom/in charge!reader??, that’s it i think

It’s hard, so fucking hard trying to ignore him. It helps that you’re standing with your back to him, but you can feel his gaze - glare more like. He’s been like this ever since you woke up this morning: pouting when you refuse to kiss him, whining when you wiggle out of his hold every time he manages to wrap his arms around you, he even shuffled to the couch and flopped onto it with a dramatic huff when you slapped his hand away when he tried holding yours.

Bucky Barnes is a baby, but you’re too stubborn to give in to his wishes.

“Come on, darling,” He whines from the couch, and the low rumble he lets out soon after makes you want to give up the act, makes you want to sink to your knees and crawl to him, forgiving him for the earlier incident. “I said I was sorry, don’t you wanna come let your Alpha apologize properly? I’ll get on my knees -”

You cut him off by throwing a nearby pillow towards him, glancing over your shoulder for a brief moment to see that he’s now sitting up, resting one hand on his thigh with his other arm thrown over the top of the couch. It takes all your might to force yourself to look away and focus back on making your tea, but you do it anyway.

It lasts not even five seconds, because then Bucky pulls out the big stops, lowering his voice as he says, “Omega… Come on.”

With a huff, you turn on your heels, placing your hands on your hips and glaring at the man you’ve called yours for over two years. His pout is gone, replaced with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as he waits for the inevitable.

“No,” You say harshly, but your heart’s not in it. You want to forgive him so badly, but he needs to learn his lesson. “You threw away all of my underwear! What am I supposed to wear when I go out now?”

“First of all, I didn’t throw all of them away. I left you a couple of thongs and those sets I love so much.” Bucky’s musky Alpha scent is slowly filling the room, the sheer dominance he radiates is clear to anyone who comes in contact with him but it’s more prevalent now with his leather jacket hugging his biceps. “Plus, we hardly leave the house anyway. And you know very well how I feel about you wearin’ panties around here.”

It’s true, you do know. In the beginning of you two living together, you quickly learned it’s best to not wear pants. You don’t like wearing them in the comfort of your own home anyway - something Bucky is extremely appreciative of. But especially panties, they merely get in the way of his desire to fill you up at any chance he gets. And it’s not like you’re complaining, oh god no. The day you’re not ready to take Bucky’s cock at any given moment will be the day you die.

It’s just… You liked the pairs you had, and they were expensive. So for Bucky to just throw them away - even if you know he didn’t mean any actual ill-will by it - kind of irks you.

Though not nearly as much as the infuriatingly smug grin on his face as you falter, he knows you’re going to cave, you always do. You’re weak for him, always have been, and always will be.

It’s just good that he’s the same way. He’d jump fifty feet in the air if you asked him to, he’d go out at one in the morning and get you food if you even suggested you were hungry, and he’s proved time and time again that he’s worthy of being your Alpha.

But right now, all you want to do is continue to gripe and make him buy you more. But then an even better idea pops up, and it’s your turn to smile deviously.

“You’re right,” You start, crossing your arms over your chest and slowly walking towards him. “You and I both know how you feel about my panties, and I guess you did leave me the good ones. But a verbal apology isn't going to be good enough.”

“Ome-“

“No.” Your harsh tone shuts him up, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’ve already ripped up quite a few because you’re too impatient to actually take them off. But throwing them away is too far.” Stopping about a foot in front of him, you have to will yourself not to laugh at the shock on his face.

“Your ‘apology’ will be me sitting on your face until you give me as many orgasms as the underwear you tossed out, okay?”

At that, Bucky straightens up one of his eyebrows raising as he leans forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “Omega, you have no idea how okay with that I am.” With that, Bucky shoots up, wrapping you in his arms and literally sweeping you off your feet as he carries you toward the bedroom.

It’s going to be a long day, and it’s a good thing you don’t have anything planned.

#biteofcherry #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #bucky barnes drabble #alpha!bucky #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns drabble #my writing #my drabbles #˚ʚ friends ɞ˚ #𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. love letters .⋆•. ๋𖥔

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Charlie Dalton, Neil Perry and Todd Anderson Taking Care of Their Sick S/O

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Charlie Dalton x sick!gn!reader (romantic), Neil Perry x sick!gn!reader , Todd Anderson x sick!gn!reader (romantic)

Warnings: The reader has a cold so... yeah. Also, since I'm sick myself, my brain isn't really working at it's normal level so apologies for any mistakes! (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Unfortunately I'm still sick (it's only been a few days). Fortunately, I'm still motivated to write headcanons to get me through this relatively mild illness (and I'm starting to feel better)! I've got a Todd one-shot draft that I started a year ago and never got around to finishing, so here's my first offering to the Dead Poets Society fandom. I'd love to write more for it, both reader-insert and not. I'm not sure if I'll end up writing any more sick fics (I've already written hcs for Yellowjackets and Abed Nadir and Annie Edison from Community) since I should be better soon, but if you're still interested check out my fandom list and requesting info and feel free to send an ask!)

CHARLIE

Charlie will jokingly tell you that you’re disgusting.

If you’re not amused by that, he’ll awkwardly but sincerely apologise, his mortification thinly veiled.

He isn’t entirely sure what the hell to do to make you less sick.

(He'll have to consult his more medically knowledgeable friends for advice)

He will ask you if you want him to kiss it all better.

(And he will not hesitate to kiss you when you give him the go ahead)

Suffice it to say, he does not care all that much about getting sick himself.

(A small part of him hopes that he does get sick so you'll have to take care of him)

He will spend so much time with you, you’d think you were dying.

He will also get you anything you ask for (even if it has no clear use in making you physically better- he just wants to make you happy).

If his earlier attempt at joking doesn't work, he'll still persist in cracking jokes and making you laugh to make you feel better.

(If your laughter causes you to break out into a coughing fit, though, he will feel awful).

NEIL

Neil knows exactly what to do.

He may not like his dad's dream of him becoming a doctor, but damn he has such a knack for looking after you.

He makes sure you’re drinking enough fluids and taking any medicine you need to take.

No matter how disgusting you might get, Neil is completely unfazed the whole time.

If anything, he'll find it funny and try to keep you in as high spirits as possible.

If he does mind getting sick, he certainly doesn't show it.

For example, he doesn't hesitate when kissing you on the cheek or forehead.

He loves you so much that it really won’t matter to him if you can- or do- get him sick.

He’ll regularly ask you if there’s anything that you want or need, and if you’re comfortable, and if you’re too hot or cold.

It’s evident that he cares about you getting better.

He’ll sit at your bedside and try to take your mind off of how you’re feeling.

But, he will insist that you need to rest up, so when you’re asleep or trying to fall asleep he’ll be as quiet as humanly possible to make sure he doesn’t wake you up.

If he does end up waking you, he’ll feel terrible about it.

He’s so loving and caring anyway, but especially when you’re sick.

TODD

This guy is fucking terrified.

He assumes that anything he does will only make you sicker.

A small part of him is convinced you will die under his care.

So, he begs Neil for advice, and Neil humours him so that Todd doesn’t drive himself nuts.

Todd will regularly ask you if you need something, and he’ll repeatedly offer you whatever Neil advised him about.

He’s also completely torn between his innate desire not to get himself sick, and his deep love and affection for you.

So, please don’t get upset with him if he recoils almost every time you cough and sneeze, because he does spend as much time as he possibly can at your bedside.

Speaking of which, Todd sits at your bedside like a loyal golden retriever.

He’ll hold your hand (internally panicking about your high temperature, of course) and place the occasional kiss on the back of it.

He’ll also read some of his poems, works in progress and completed, out to you, and he’ll make sure to pick plenty that are about you specifically.

Sure, he’s nervous, but you love his poetry and all he wants to do is reduce how terrible you feel.

#dead poets society #dps #dps headcanons #charlie dalton #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton x reader #neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #headcanons

[moethewriter]

Idk if you're comfortable doing these but maybe reader is on their month and needs comfort from finnick. Had mine last week the cramps, nausea and back pain was crazy fr lol. Or maybe just a comfort reading been a rough week

Please and thank you have a lovely day 🫶🏾

Of course I can write that anon! Periods are the worst. TITLE: Chamomile Delights WORD COUNT: 1.1k WARNINGS: Period content, fluff TAGS: Can be read as gn!reader (women aren't the only ones who get periods y'all!) A/N: Loved writing this one! Periods are ass, and as a non-binary person who gets them, we all need a little comfort! Hope you all enjoy this! I'm still not feeling 100%, this flu is lingering my friends, but writing has been taking my mind off of that! Love yall! Also not beta read as per usual, sorry for any spelling mistakes! Haha! -

It had come early, and to say you weren’t happy was an understatement. You wanted to die, truly lay down and allow yourself to become one with the earth because anything would be better than this shit. You didn’t remember the last time you felt this horrible during your cycle, usually you could manage but today was just … awful. Everything made you want to cry, or you when something inconvenienced you, you wanted to chuck it against the wall and watch it smash. You were nauseated at the smell of anything Mags brought you to eat, and to top it all of you just felt so fucking miserable.

Finnick had been gone for a few days, off in The Capitol, when your period had started, usually he would be there to provide any sort of comfort you needed but right now you were alone. You couldn’t blame him, Snow had summoned him and many other Victors for a week of galas and to introduce the new Victors. You feigned illness, which in some ways was true, but you were upset he couldn’t stay with you. Had you known it would start, you probably would have gone because at least then you would have your built in space heater.

You wanted to have him near you, as childish as it sounded. He always made you feel better and doted on you. He made you feel better and knew how to take care of you. But mostly you just missed him. His comforting smile, the way he would rub your lower back and just hold you to help you fall asleep. You were miserable without him, and you looked like shit. It wasn’t ideal, but you could make it through the worst alone if you had too. You felt like something that had just crawled out of a sewer drain, and you were sure you looked like it too.

Finnick hated seeing you so ill. He always wanted to make you feel better in whatever way he could. Whether that was holding you while you angrily muttered and cursed at the world for having cramps, or making you a small dinner that he knew wouldn’t make you sick. Well more like got Mags to make something while he presented it to you, he had never been the best cook and when you weren’t well he knew it was hopeless to try and feed you anything he made, it was sweet the way he tried so hard.

Some days he was a pain in your ass, but you didn’t mind that anymore. 

“When he gets home, I swear I’m going to kill him.” You whispered, throwing a pillow over your head, maybe if you suffocate yourself enough, the lack of oxygen flow would stop the pain all together. “Damn fucking President Snow calling his ass away. Maybe I’ll kill him next.” You grumbled under the pillow.

“Kill who next?”

You sat up straight, regretting your decision the moment you cramped up a little more. You felt a small wave of nausea hit you as you covered your mouth. You hadn’t expected him home until far later in the week. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting your eyes. “You’re home early.” You observed the glitter on him, his demeanor and the way he was dressed.

It wasn’t unusual for him to come back from The Capitol dressed far differently than anything he wore at home. It wasn’t Finnick’s usual style, he preferred a more low key look when he was in District Four, always had, but he did look gorgeous.

“And you look like shit.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. “Are you in pain?”

“I feel like shit, thanks for the observation, Finn.” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, obviously.” You were far grumpier than you wanted to be but you couldn’t help it right now, the light was too bright and you abdomen felt like it was crushing your insides.

“Ah. I see.” Finnick said, exiting the room.

You grumbled to yourself angrily, desperately searching for a position that gave you any relief, though nothing you had tried worked thus far. At least Finnick was here, despite the annoyance you had at the entire situation, you were thankful he was home early.

“Hot water, and a cup of tea.” Finnick said, returning a few minutes later holding a steaming mug and a small towel.

“Finn.” You felt tears well up in your eyes. “Sorry. I’m not upset, and sorry for being a dick, thank you.” You smiled, as he passed you the cup, you inhaled it and the smile grew.

Chamomile, a luxury to get when you were outside The Capitol. It was your favourite tea, always had been, and he  managed to snag a few boxes of it when he could. He always thought of you like that, whenever he could get you something he would. 

He sat beside you, gently pressing a kiss into your shoulder and you exhaled deeply at the simple, yet comforting gesture. Having his presence was already a comfort.

“What do you need from me?” He asked, pressing his chin to where he laid the kiss. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”

“Kill me?” You questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You sipped the tea he had brought you and felt the warmth take over your body. 

“Well … not that.” He snorted into your shoulder, his hands moving to gently massage your sides. 

“Thank you for the tea, and the hot water. Hold me, massage my back … work your usual magic Odair, because when I tell you I’ve been so unpleasant these last two days … I’m not lying.” You huffed.

“You’re not always unpleasant?” He teased, moving the massage to your shoulders.

You could feel the deep knots slowly being undone, and you let out a sigh of relief, you hadn’t realized the tension had been that bad.

“I will kick you off this bed.” You warned, shooting him a glare.

“Then who would take such good care of you?” Finnick smiled, continuing to work his magic. “No one can live up to this.” He laughed, a small sound coming from the bass of his throat. 

You loved his laugh.

“Hush, let me relax.” You closed your eyes, and focused on his soft humming,

Days like these had always been so miserable, you had gotten so used to riding it out alone, but now you had Finnick. He would always take care of you, and you would in turn, take care of him. There would never be one without the other, not anymore.

“I love you.” You said, simply, leaning into him.

“I love you too.” He said back, holding you closer.

#moeswriting #writing #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #the hunger games #fluff

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.

Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting

Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this

Silverwolf: Istfg

[seen by Bladie]

His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.

He feels sick.

This misery of his never going away.

“I have to go.”

He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”

So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.

He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.

“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.

“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)

Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.

In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.

“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.

”Is it you Blade?”

He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.

”Are you okay?”

”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.

He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.

But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.

He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”

Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.

“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”

”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.

You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.

“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.

He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.

“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.

So he asks again, “What do I do?”

Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”

He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.

Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.

He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.

”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.

He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.

Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.

“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”

You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”

”I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.

“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”

He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.

”Is it okay if I give up?”

No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.

So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?

“It’s okay, right?”

”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”

He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?

“Thank you.”

No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.

You two were just the same.

He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.

He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.

But how could you, how did you do it?

A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.

Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.

What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.

Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

#what have i done #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #honkai star rail angst #blade x reader #blade smut #blade angst #blade fluff #i wont take that back #suffer with me #hsr angst #yingxing #blade hsr #hsr x you #honkai star rail fluff

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #steddie drabble #steddie au #mental health #mental health is important #you are not alone #you are loved #you matter #you are enough

[pleasehelpmeimfying]

Could I ask for sub Aventurine? Maybe he is really in his head with work and wants to not think anymore so reader pampers them and gets them in subspace? Idk up to you 💙🩵

LMFAO TURNS OUT I DONT FULLY UNDERSTAND WHAT SUBSPACE IS😭 so I’ll try my best LMFAOOO BUT ILL MAKE THE FIC SCRUMPTIOUS 😍.

(No fonts due to my lack of storage. Mb goober :( )

{Amab!sub!Aventurine, possible Aventurine OOC. Angst if you squint hard enough. Amab!top!reader, blowjob, Aventurine receiving, Shitty rushed fic. Definitely gonna edit the story line later 💀…}

Read at your own risk.

Working day in and day out. Barely any time for breaks or self pleasure. It’s either something going terribly wrong or more idiots with little common sense fucking something up.

His work was never done. Aventurine just wanted a break, something to look forward to. The lack of sleep caused bags to slowly form under his eyes. The more he became more irritable, the more he was losing his mind in this work space.

Aventurine was reading over some delays that was recently reported, to focused in his paperwork to notice you entering his office with his favorite meal. Slowly you walked towards your lover with a small smile gracing your lips. You took advantage on how.. distracted he was.

You placed the food on a nearby shelf, slowly making your way behind him. Did he suspect a thing? Absolutely not, and it was amazing. Once you made it behind him you wasted no time to cup his face from the back and give him gentle kisses all over the left side of his face.

Did it startle him? Oh absolutely. Aventurine momentarily frozen in place, quickly recovering to a sly smile and weak chuckling. He should’ve known your ass would pull some shit like this. Yet he couldn’t resist melting into your warmth! You treated him all to well, and deep down he was still confused why anyone would choose to love someone like him.

“Aventurine, how long have you been working? You haven’t been home in a while.. I was getting worried something.. might’ve happened.”

Your worry and concern for his well being made his heart grow and grow. Filling up with unthinkable amount of love just for you. How long has it been since you held him? How long was it since he felt your love? To long perhaps. Still his eyes lingered at the work in front of him. Staring up at him with blank areas still to fill out.

Aventurine let out a stifled breath. His annoyance slowly creeping back at him. He just needed a little more time to finish before he was sure he wasn’t sure this man was dying rn that he was done for the night. Regretfully he would say the same thing as he did all those others times before.

“Hm, I need to get back to this. I swear I’m almost done my love. Just need more time..”

Genuinely you weren’t really paying much attention to what he was saying. Blocking him out with a playful smile. Then before he knew it, your guided his face to look at yours and placed more deeper kisses on his gorgeous face. Luring him to you. Did he care? Nahh..

You moved a bit away, taking your hands off his face. He felt his heart drop. Just a little bit! Before he saw you push his chair further from his desk so you could get better access to him. That damn back side of the chair was killing you slowly 💀.

“Your eyes.. you look so tried baby. I can’t allow you to keep working like this. How about we go home and get some rest, yea?”

Aventurine did NOT feel like moving. He just wanted to just slump against his chair. Though he would rather die than tell you that. So let’s put on that infamous poker face shall we?

He looked at you and gave you a smile. Weakly nodding in an attempt to play through his false facade. Did your bitch ass notice it? Yes and it was both concerning and hilarious. So you decided to cup his face one more time and bless his ears with your words. And in between words you kept squishing his face:3

“Second thought.. how bout we stay here just a little while longer. Relax a bit before you rush back home.”

Aventurine didn’t know what to do. First you wanted to go and now you wanna stay? Eh, he’ll just go with the flow. Though your hands felt so warm and soft. Once again he melted into your touch.. Then his mind wondered to places it shouldn’t have. First ranging to sweet thoughts, then to some more.. let’s say delusional thinking. Next thing you know as he has a ranging boner.

He knew that you knew about his problem. Probably why he turned into a whining mess in the next 42 minutes..

Hands tangled in your locks as he kept buckling into your mouth. Aventurine bit biting his bottom lips as muffled whines were forced out of his throat. Tears ready to spill at any moment as you kept going. Slurping his length without much care as your hands forced his thighs apart.

“<Y/N>.. please! I c-can’t hold- Nmmph! Hold I-It!♡︎”

Your mouth was warm and wet it almost made him go crazy. Aventurine didn’t know how your jaw wasn’t in agony by now. Forgot that thought, his lower half was absolutely being destroyed by you. Legs shaking as he tugged your hair one last time before combusting in your sweet mouth.

A gurgled moan slipped through Aventurine throat as the tears finally spilt. Back arching as his legs kept opening and closing. He just didn’t know what to do, what a poor baby.

“Shitshitshitshitshit… OohhHH! MmpPHH♡︎!”

His mind went completely blank. Not a single thought resided in that beautiful brain of his. Only tears and pleasure clouded his mind. He didn’t even notice you take his cock out of your mouth. He was just to fucked out honestly.

Aventurine body was twitching as he took deep breaths, trying to hold to some kind of saintly.

Maybe he would’ve finish his work later if he even remembered.

#i’m going insane #x male reader #male reader #pls send asks #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #sub aventurine #dom male reader #ask to tag #asks open #ask blog #send asks #ask game #send me asks #anon ask #ask me anything #ask #ask away! #sillyposting

[lizzieislife94x]

Impossible Mission (w.m)

Requested <3

ill try my best (:

Wanda Maximoff x G!P reader

Y/ns POV:

I walk up and down the jet biting my nails "what if we're walking into a trap Wanda we have no back up it's just you and i" she steps in front of me and rubs my shoulders to calm my nerves "y/n calm down its ok its a simple retrieve mission we just need to get in grab the files and out there's only a handful of hydra agents at this location we got this we work great as a team" I feel my nerves calming and nod "yeah wands you're totally right I'm sorry for freaking out I just get nervous when we have no one near to back us up but Tony wouldn't send us alone if it was dangerous " she looks at me and smiles "exactly now suit up so we can kick some ass and get the files and get back home to the compound" I walk to the back of the jet to get my suit on and take a few deep breaths time to kick some ass y/n you got this "wanda remember put the jet into stealth mode" I yell on the way to the front of the jet "I know I got it y/n we land in exactly 4 minutes are you ready?" I nod and shakes both my hands "it's now or never let's kick some ass Maximoff " I give her a huge grin and she giggles, I follow Wandas lead as we head into the building without being detected I keep my eyes on all areas and sit back and watch as Wanda takes 2 guards out with ease I didn't even have time do anything I stop my movements hearing someone creep up behind me I turn and start fighting one of the hydra agents knocking him out easily smiling at myself proud we make It into the room we've been looking for and both of us quickly search every area looking for the files we need "Wanda stay here get the file I hear someone outside ill handle it" I whisper and sneak out quietly leaving Wanda to get the file as I turn the corner I come face to face with one of the agents and automatically get into fighting stance "oh bring it on buddy" I smirk but suddenly he throws some sort of powder into my face as I take a deep breath, shit what was that I quickly take him down and start freak out, I'm gonna die what was that oh god I crouch down and feel tears as Wanda runs out "I got the..." she stop abruptly and looks at me "y/n what happened are you ok where are you hurt " I try and steady my breathing and stand up "I think I'm gonna die he threw some sort of power in my face and I'm pretty sure it's some sort of poison" I sniff pointing down at the unconscious agent as Wanda giggles like a school girl "I think your going to be ok" she states squeezing my shoulders I look at her confused "Wanda this is serious we need to get back to the lab so Bruce can help me" I feel her eyes travel down my body as she continues to giggle "y/n I promise you, you're going to be ok let's get back to the jet" I follow her eye line to the huge bulge in my suit why the fuck why am I hard the more I look the more my adrenaline calms and I'm hit with the instant feeling of arousal why the fuck am I horny "I'm so confused why am I feeling so uh.." I think of the right words to use as I walk back to the jet super uncomfortable "y/n he hit you with some type of sex pollen, hydra have been working on it what better way to disable a deadly enemy than turn them into a horny motherfucker" she giggles and it starts to click inside my head thank fuck but Holy shit this boner is hurting and making me feel amazing, we get back to the jet as I lay down and Wanda fixes the jet for take off I need to get out of this suit it's making my dick hurt, I take my suit off leaving me in my boxers and sports bra I slowly rub my hand over my bulge fuck that feels good maybe I could whack one out quickly and it will help a little I fucking hope so.

I slide my boxers down and slowly start to rub my hard member oh shit that's good I start to work a little faster moaning as the thought of Wanda pops into my mind why am I thinking about Wanda and why is it making me feel so fucking good "thought I'd find you here in this position" I hear her sweet voice without thinking I turn to face her dick in hand I don't know what it is I think the powder is taking over me I start to work my fist on my cock looking straight into her eyes moaning never breaking eye contact fuck what is happening it's like I can smell her arousal I can smell her pussy, fuck I walk over trapping her against the wall and start to kiss her neck "y/n we shouldn't this is wrong..." she moans not sounding convincing "I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk for a week" I growl into her ear "fuck y/n use me, I want you inside me" I start to rip her suit  off leaving her naked as I spin her to face the wall and spread her legs lining my cock to her entrance slamming inside her without warning "fuckkkkkkk y/n" Wanda screams a mixture of pain and pleasure I gave her a second to adjust and start to thrust deep inside her tight little cunt "fuck Wanda so fucking tight and wet for me the minute you walked into the room I could smell your dripping little pussy" I husk into her ear as she moans in return "such a good little cock slut" I smirk fucking her harder against the wall "y/n don't fucking stop use my pussy fuck your so big I can't hold back I'm Cumming" she moans as she starts to cream all over my cock I look down at the sight and bite her shoulder gently as I continue my brutal pace pounding her pussy not giving her time to recover I'm to focused on my own high fuck it feels so good I slam in deeper and harder feeling the familiar knot in my stomach as I groan "I can't..its coming again " she breaths out whimpering under me after a few more pumps I start to unload my seed deep inside her waiting little cunt "wow fuck" I pant "get on your hands and knees" I whisper into her ear as I slide my dick out her sensitive cunt rubbing the tip against her clit "oh god y/n shit" she moans as she gets onto her hands and knees I moan at the sight of her dripping cunt mixed with both our cum I get down on my knees and line myself up to her waiting core "you're doing so well taking me wands you feel so fucking good your helping me so much" I groan as I slide my dick inside her slowly this time resting my hands on her back as I start to thrust slowly building my speed fuckkkk she feels amazing I groan and slap her ass as she moans and screams my name "I'm gonna cum" she moans out in a whisper as I feel her walls squeeze my cock I continue to thrust as she squirts all over my dick I moan into her ear and thrust harder and faster "to..much y/n I can't fuck so sensitive " I continue to thrust slowly feeling my release approach "give me one more baby I know you have one more in you" I moan rubbing her back "you're doing so fucking well princess one more " she moans "fuck ok y/n I can do one more" I smirk and pick up my pace fucking her at an ungodly pace after a few thrusts I slam deep inside her and fill her with my seed as she screams my name her own orgasm washing over her. 

Arriving home in 8 minutes I hear Jarvas announcing fuck I'm still hard as a rock this is gonna be along night I lean down picking Wanda up sitting her on the bench as I pass her, her suit to get dressed and I go put my suit on and try my best to hide my bulge "I can't walk y/n" Wanda glares "ops I'll carry you" I bite my lip and laugh as the door opens and Tony and Nat stand waiting for us "oh my god Is she OK" Nat yells running to us and Tony smirks "Romanoff she's fine"Tony laughs as I carry Wanda inside Tony stopping us "so I was right they have some sort of sex pollen" he says with a smirk "you knew and you sent us?" I ask glaring at him "not 100% but now I do and I see the way you and witchy look at eachother we could all see the sexual tension so you're welcome" I laugh and look at Wanda "I can't fucking walk Tony" I laugh and carry her upstairs "I promise I'll make it up to you" she bites her lip looking at me "I'm not sorry I'm ready for plenty more poundings till your little problem is sorted just give me 30 mins to calm down" I bite my lip and nod laying beside her. 

AN: hope this is OK if not I will fix bits :) If you have a request let me know and I'll try my best to bring it to life word count for this chapter is 1.7k enjoy  (this is actually a fav of mine anyway drink water and stay hydrated babe<3)

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #fanfic #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #oneshot #mcu #smut #wattpad #lizzieislife94x #wandavision #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #wanda x you

[eclecticqueennerd]

Confessions

Part 3

*language, mentions of r*pe, kidnapping, mild gaslighting, brief mentions of smeggs, angst*

Butcher POV

You lot didn’t deserve how he’s been treating you lately, pushing you to the brink of exhaustion and then pushing some more. His need for revenge for Lenny caused Kimiko to almost die. No, that was her fault. She shouldn’t have jumped in front of Soldier Boy. Sure, Frenchie could have been killed but still, Kimiko will get better, she always does. At least y/n wasn’t hurt.

Oh y/n. He could list all the reasons as to why he fell hard and fast for you but there’s not enough hours in the day. Where he barked orders to the crew, you were there to keep their spirits up. When he fell victim to his thoughts of self-loathing, you were there to talk him off the ledge. You showed the boys loyalty when you finally got your revenge on the supe that killed your husband after finding out how high the Vought shit ladder went. You were support, humility, loyalty, kindness, knowledge, and compassion. Everything that Butcher wasn’t.

But then you had to go and become the very thing he despised. A fucking supe. In the back of his mind, he knew y/n was forced into becoming enhanced and that he shouldn’t have stormed out, especially after finding out how Homelander violated you. But even in the best of times, Butcher can’t control his anger. Despite how many times you’d tell him he’s not, he’s exactly who his father says he is.

*flashback*

When you were kidnapped by Homelander, Butcher went into beast mode. Anyone who had the smallest bit of information on where you were located was met with brutality that even made the boys nervous to be around him. When Grace told him that you were found and safe with her, he damn near dropped everything to drive as fast as he could to meet you. He had to see that you were alright. He needed to hold you and by doing so, would calm the waves of fury, sadness, and relief that was pulsing through his veins. He had to tell you that he loved you.

Grace refused to tell him your exact location, per your request. You should have just spit in his face, it would have the same effect. When the two of you were reunited, all the ill feelings dissipated as he finally got to embrace you. She’s fine, she’s here, my y/n.

“Where ya been dove, what took you so long?”

“Sorry, I wanted to stay longer to train.”

“You let some other cunt train ya? I coulda done it.”

The calm went as quickly as it came once new information came to light on how to take Vought down. Butcher never got the chance to confess his feelings.

While on missions together, Butcher wanted to but never breached the topic of what happened while you were kidnapped. He wanted you to trust him and tell him in your own time, as he did with you about Lenny. He was attentive to whatever needs you had; you did not want for nothing. As time progressed, he noticed subtle differences. You were quick to catch things falling off the kitchen table, you were finally able to open that jar of pickles you always asked Butcher to open, he purposely tightened it each time to make sure you’d come to him for help. One night you cut yourself with a paring knife while mincing garlic and the next morning,

“Hey, how’s the finger?”

“What about it?”

“Ya cut it last night making dinner.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did, I patched you up.”

“I think you dreamed that, Billy. See?” Butcher looks at your finger, “My finger is fine.”

“Huh, guess I did dream it.”

“Looks like we’ve been hanging out too much, you’re starting to dream about me dicing my fingers off.” Y/n was also increasingly jumpy around him even though he was as gentle as possible around her.

In hindsight, this should have been a red flag, but he's always been blinded when it comes to you. Now, piecing it all together it makes sense after you told him you were a supe.

“Hello, Earth to Butcher.” Maeve snapped her fingers. He came back to the task at hand, the Temp- V. Frenchie and Kimiko were at the hospital, MM quit the mission and went back to his apartment and tasked Hughie and y/n with finding Soldier Boy after he blew up a small building in New York.

“Did you even hear a word I said, Butcher?” Maeve asked. He shrugged,

“No.” Maeve scoffed.

“You should apologize to her.”

“To who?”

“Y/n.”

“You’ve got no business talking to me about y/n. How bout you just give me the Temp-V and fuck off?”

“Come one I know the two of you are fighting right now. She’s your friend and if you just tell her-“

“Who the fuck is telling you all this, eh?”

“Starlight.”

“Well, that cunt doesn’t know everything. I’ve got nothing to apologize for. I’ve done nothing wrong.” That’s fucking lie. Maeve threw the packet of vials on the couch.

“Fine, don’t take my advice. What do I know?” Just before Maeve left, Butcher stood up and offered her a drink of vodka.

“I’m 4 months sober you asshole.”

“Oh... Starlight never told me.”

“Like you said that bitch doesn’t know everything.” Maeve looks at the bottle and back to Butcher, she grabs the class and plops herself onto the couch. As the evening sky turned black, Butcher and Maeve busied themselves fucking on MM’s desk in the corner of the hideout.

“You know what Butcher? You’re a real piece of shit.”

Yeah, yeah, he was.

#mothers milk #the boys #the boys amazon #kimiko the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #frenchie #karl urban #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #queen maeve #reader insert #female reader #angst #Spotify

[starjunkyard]

A scene of foreman telling house in ep21 s8 that "persevering through pain for loved ones... isn't that what life is?" before being followed up by a scene of house screaming at taub in the middle of the hospital hallway that life is pain. Life is pain. His entire life is pain. How he wakes up everyday and thinks about ending it. And yet hes still fucking here and what is that if not a confirmation that house's entire life is lived for wilson

Its so like. Because from an outsider's perspective its so childish. Its so out of bounds though thats completely in character for house; you don't tell people whether they should live or die, least of all if they're diagnosed with a terminal illness you know will suck the life out of them every second they aren't in the ground. You don't get to tell people that you dont have that right but. But. but

House is here and house is in pain. He's hurting and he's been hurting and he wants that to end but its been an unspoken agreement for years that wilson would never forgive house if he just gave up. Wilson would never let him do that. He would never ever forgive house for that not ever

So house is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He is alive!!!!!!!!!!!! Because wilson is his best friend and house cannot live in a world where wilson hates him even if he isnt around to feel it. So house persevered through the pain he grit his teeth and just kept fucking Going because wilson hating him is a worse fate than any infarcture any perpeptual state of chronic pain, a fate worse than anything

Before stacy before cuddy before everything it was new orleans and wilson in that cell. House has been living for wilson. House's entire life past the infarcture and the pain and the pain and the pain has been for wilson. He has been living in unimaginable pain for 20 years because its been an unspoken agreement that i need you i want you you need me you want me. I need you here you cant go anywhere You cant leave me

20 years of being in a perpeptual unending state of chronic pain. Years of living under this unspoken agreement, being bound to this contract that keeps you screaming keeps you hurting keeps you gutted and emptied out but you never minded it, you never left. you let it take you because you love him. Because you love him he loves you and he lets you love him and thats enough

So can you imagine what a slap in the face it is to have him tell you outright that he wont live for you.

That his life, his death: it'll be about him. All this whilst your entire life has belonged to him. Your life your death everything you've ever done its been about him for him. For him. And you feel furious and cheated to tears because its then that you realise he never even asked. You gave it to him handed your bleeding beating heart warm and fresh to him on a silver fucking platter and he never even asked for it. But you're asking him now. You're actually asking him you're begging him, you are begging him you're telling him that you love him, and he's saying no? He's saying no?

Can you even begin to imagine-- just a fraction of that betrayal? That humiliation? I've fucking grit my teeth weathered 20 years of pain i stayed alive because i knew that you wanted me to-- because i knew that you loved me and you wanted me to stay, and that was fine, because i loved you too. And i never even made you say it. I never made you say the words because i thought it was something we both understood intrensically, down to the bone-- and still im telling you now that i need you that i love you and now the deal's just off?

I weathered through 20 years of pain because surely you would have done the same for me-- and you're telling me now that your life is going to be lived on your own terms? when my entire life has been lived for you? When ive been in hell for 20 years just so i could keep loving you? You; you looked at me in the eyes, led me on had the gall to keep me alive-- just to sit here now and tell me that the agreement ive lived my whole life around was a one-man deal? That you cant be bothered to stick your heels in the dirt a little, grit your teeth and go through a quarter fraction of the hell ive gone through so that you stay here! can be here Be Here and keep continuing to love me when ive been doing that wordlessly thanklessly for 20 years? How could you make me ask? How could you tell me no?

How could you keep me alive and breathing if you knew that this was even remotely in the realm of possibility? You kept me in the dark-- knew this whole time that leaving this friendship could actually be an option for you-- and you kept me alive?

#Oungh #Hrrggh #HHhnjj #HHAOUHH #Its been 5 months and i am on. the last episode of house md #5 months of this #Its beating my ass you can probably tell. Im genuinely a fucking wreck #I know what happens. Watching it actually play out is a whole other fucking ballpark #I cannot do this man it hurts #House is telling him that he loves him and hes so upset and angry and afraid and its making him something wild #He deliberately tried to kill a patient. He actually tried to murder a patient #Hes telling him that he needs him that he loves him and its not enough and hes pulling every string and its not enough #Nothing is enough and hes grasping handfuls of sand grasping at straws for the first time in houses life he cannot fix this #He is helpless in every sense of the word no amount of spite of diagnostic skill of wit will fix this #Gregory house is truly absolutely helpless and his best friend is dying and hes going to Watch #house md #gregory house #james wilson #johan being crazy about yaoi md #house md meta #hilson meta #relationship analysis #character analysis

[chainofhyrule]

So I remember sending this to you a while ago when you still had ignis, right? I made the ficlet I wrote twilight, but honestly? I think Legend might fit the bill a little better.

Legend with an anemic reader.

I mean think about it:

Depressed bunny man sees the only person he looks forward to seeing on a daily basis freezing because they're anemic (but he doesn't know that).

He's like, are you sick? Why tf are you so cold? and readers just like well I have a chronic illness lmao

Cue him shooting up and being like "chronic huh?????" like that one family feud meme

I'm sorry but I get giddy thinking about this. He's the black cat lover in the relationship, 100%

And his favorite person, i.e. the only person he actually likes-- could be dying (not really but that's what he thinks lmao)????? He can't just let it slide, oh no. Not when it's you.

So bunny man does what bunny man thinks is best. Your anemia becomes your free coupon for unlimited cuddles, any time of day (He would fight god himself if god tried to tear you off of him)

Trinkets. Might give you little things like hand warmers or gloves or fuzzy socks or even his hat in a pinch, just to keep your hands and feet warm (let it be known his hat is only for your hands. Feet gross him out, I don't make the rules)

And when he finally understands what anemia really is, he's momming you into eating properly. He's a mom friend, the mom in the relationship, you've called him mom before literally just to fuck with him.

"You're fucking eating it even if I have to pin you down and shovel it in your face because I fucking will" (I personally headcanon that he has the mouth of a sailor. It just fits)

"Eat, goddamnit, I don't want you getting sick"

"Did you take your iron this morning? No? You're taking it. Now."

Will stand up randomly to fetch an extra blanket if you're still cold.

"Shut up. I didn't get up for nothing, don't get used to it" he'd scoff as he wraps you up in it and grumpily kisses your forehead.

Totally lets you sleep in his bedroll with him.

...And fucking hates it when you put your cold feet against his legs, or your freezing fingers on his neck. Screams like a bitch. Everyone in the camp has heard it; Wars actually started calling him princess at one point and it almost ended in bloodshed.

"...You're gonna get it, you little shit," he'll growl at you when you make him scream like that. But he can't resist your cute face and that sweet, innocent giggle, can he?

...No, of course not.

Bunny man who has a black cat personality has my heart💖

NO BUT WHY DO I NEED THIS???

I have reread this like a least a DOZEN times by now and HHHHHHHHHH—

HELLO?

Just imagine him being so reluctantly sweet about it though 😭😭😭

Recruiting the others to keep an eye on you (I’d hc only Rulie or Wars) when he has to go do something. On some of the better days he still has a tendency to fuss. On the worse ones, you’d best bet your ass you ain’t doing anything unless it’s absolutely necessary. Time must chide him many times that your aren’t fragile, but in his mind it’s only “mustcareforynmusttakecareofynmustnotletynstrainthemselves—WHYAREN’TTHEYWEARINGTHEGLOVESIGAVETHEM???”

poor bby would revert to the bunny “must care for the kit and keep kit warm” function and would rather die than admit it 😭😭😭

best bet under that glove is a magic cold-resistant ring of some sort 🤭

#BBY BOY BBY BOY BBY BOY BBY BOY— #WAAAAAA WHY’S HE GOTTA BE SO FREAKING CUTE THO 😭😭😭 #We need bunny man fics like this #NEED THEM #chain answers

[turnstechgodhead]

ok to the anon thats talkin w me about mental eelness and bro and the "knight of time" line:

id post your entire ask but its Very Long and im struggling to answer all of it in a way that isnt fucking with my head and anxiety so im going to answer with only the character analysis stuff HERE on this post my apologies

for the record i dont even remotely know how to begin tagging this mess down here and i really think itd be better suited for my nsfw blog but yall aint asking about this on that blog which is fair take care of yourselves

JSYK it's stuff about brocal/intrusive thoughts about inc st and c s a SO kids please avert your eyes for my comfort thank YOU

i dont personally have ocd afaik but as someone who Has intrusive thoughts (actual horrifying ones that dirk, gabe and i have to beat back with a stick, not the ones kids think are intrusive thoughts today)

i definitely think that's how bro approaches raising dave; overcompensating for the accusations from his mind and cal[iborn] leading to total icing him out

okay same anon who was asking abt the “i was raising the knight of time” line. you saying “caliborn made [bro] believe that platonic affection is in fact not platonic at all and is instead sexual[the implications when bro is constantly carrying around cal with his arms around his neck btw. insane.]” is fascinating. is this based off the fact that caliborn thinks even hugging or a kiss on the cheek is “filthy?” it makes me think about ocd/bipolar disorder/misc mental illnesses and intrusive thoughts. i have bipolar and im a huge softie for kids but my intrusive thoughts sometimes try to convince me that my affection is somehow sinister.

YES very much

i need to describe to you my thoughts on brocal really quick bc i think that'll help put it in perspective and idk how else to talk about it;

heres the thing

cal is both bro's boyfriend and his fucking family okay

imagine you're a kid and you have this puppet friend that speaks to you using silly words and tells you that you should eat glass maybe :) or cut your fingers off or tear off your own head and hes the only thing thats taking care of you as a person even if hes mean

he tells you that people touching is inappropriate and vulgar and he cant believe theyre doing that in public (but its okay if we hug and cuddle you know?)

but also as you grow up this puppet starts calling you weird shit like stud or hunky or what the hell ever and maybe. youre going to kiss him

this puppet is the only thing you care about because hes the only thing that cares about you youve been with him for years and years and he talks to you and hes all that matters and now youre obsessed with him and you dont know when that happened but you have an obsessive personality anyway

youll do anything for him. (let me kill for you)

hes the only person you love because you dont love roxy this way (consuming, overwhelming, obligating to do what he wants, because he's all you have)

and well shit

if cals telling you that youre a freak for wanting to cuddle on the baby like you did that once (call it the knight it helps keep your distance) then i guess you're a fucking freak because its not even your right to treat it as family anyway; it's bigger than you. it's more than you will ever be and you need to make sure it doesn't fucking die and apparently that involves at least a little bit of affection cal please understand(what a disgusting species)

#mumbling #brocal #homestuck #bro strider #tsgzv #tsgw #gabe and dirk are my mind parasites btw #PLEASE dont call me a system #timaeus posting

[neo-novaa]

hi pretty!! Hope you're having a great new year so far <3

Here's an idea: jake sully x doctor!reader where he gets hurt or something and goes to the lab for a checkup and meets this new doctor that he never met when he was a human. He thinks reader is very attractive while taking care of him and examining everything and starts getting flirty 👀

Could be fem!reader or gn!reader, whatever you feel like it's best!! Don't feel pressured if you don't like this req, I'll totally understand if so! Have a nice day/evening! ♡

- 🦢 anon

swan anon i love you so much thank you for putting this into my brain. --

doctors orders

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x doctor!human!reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: brief mentions of blood and stitches with some terribly written flirting, very ooc jake i fear,,also only partially proofread

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

*ੈ✩ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: definitely went a bit off the rails and might've written a bit too much,,.. hope this is what you had in mind swan anon!!

jake was a lot more traditional than his fellow na’vi. he was spiritual, sure, but only to a certain degree. yes, he believed that with certain herbs and salves, small wounds could heal overnight, and light illnesses could fade in less than a week.

however, for something like a strong gash spewing blood down his face, Jake would much prefer to go to someone whose main form of medical practice was rooted in a more scientific reasoning

that, and a part of him was genuinely worried about bleeding out before getting back to the clan's tsahik.

so, he opted for flying over to the lab. it was quicker, and much, much more reliable.

the only unfortunate thing about going to the lab was that it wasn’t necessarily avatar friendly, seeing as though he literally couldn’t even fit through the door.

he landed the ikran a safe distance from the lab, mentally whispering a quiet “stay” before breaking tsaheylu. 

at this point, jake couldn’t rely too heavily on his feet (having blood gushing from your head for a solid twenty minutes can definitely have that effect), as he barely managed to stumble towards the window of the lab.

if he had been in more control of his body, jake would’ve gracefully walked up to the incredibly out-of-place structure, knocked on the window, and motioned for the first doctor he saw to come outside. ideally, that's how it would’ve gone. because jake was suave. he was cool, confident, calculated--

but what ended up happening consisted of jake stumbling up towards the lab, banging only once but very loudly on the window, and passing out on the soft grass beneath him.

---

“holy shit!” jake yells as he sits up quickly, the pounding in his chest matching the hammering in his skull. and when his vision unblurred and that burning smell finally left his nose, he was finally able to get a good look at you.

“hi.” is all you said, your oxygen mask obstructing your voice. he looked down to your hands, noting a small, plastic and broken canister.

“the fuck is that?” he murmured, sitting up, and resting his back against the lab. he hissed at his head making contact with the wall behind him. jake reached up to his forehead, finding that it was, suprisingly, no longer bleeding.

“i needed to make sure that you weren’t going to die on me.”

he glances at you, his gaze fluttering all over your face.

“yeah…” he mutters, straightening his posture. “who are you?”

you move closer to him-- wow, okay, a lot closer to him. you’re standing between his legs, and yet still you’re barely a head taller than him.

he barely registers the fact that you’ve given him your name.

“so what’s the prognosis doc? is it fatal?” you’re wiping away the dried blood from his forehead with a damp cloth, not even beginning to bother with how much is on his face, his shoulder, his torso…

his very, very lean torso--

“yeah, actually, it is.” you joke. “i’m not a real doctor. this is all a dream.”

jake chuckles, you can feel his breath on your chest. even in your tank top, the sticky humidity is clinging to your skin, and the closeness between you two isn’t doing anything to help that.

because of body heat, of course. no other reason.

“i wouldn’t doubt it,” he rasps. “you look like you could be straight out of a dream.”

he feels your hands still on his forehead, and you almost drop the bloody handcloth. you cover it up with a quick chuckle, beginning to move down to his cheek. “gosh, how much blood did you lose sully?”

“you know my name?” he quickly interjects.

“of course i do,” you respond absentmindedly, trying your best to wipe away the dried blood from the curve of his jaw. “everyone does. you’re a bit of a local legend.”

you have to laugh at your own words. a bit? that was quite the understatement. you were sure jake’s name would be in the na’vi’s songs for generations to come. at this point, his name was probably engraved in the minds of every soldier that the RDA had on pandora before they were booted off this moon.

but he didn’t need to know that. you didn’t want anything else to go straight to his head, it might cause him to start bleeding again.

“so how’d this happen?” you say, filling the stiff silence.

“i’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.” there it is, the confidence was coming back. must've had something to do with the blood loss, he notes.

“that’s very mature,” you step away, glancing quickly at the blood on his torso, and deciding that he could probably take care of that himself. “and also not how this works.”

you pull out the tube of numbing cream, hoping that there’d be enough for a wound of this degree, of this size. in proportion to a human, it’d be more than enough. but, lucky for you, jake was nearly twice your size, meaning that the gash on his forehead was twice the size of the ones you're used to.

you resume your position between his legs (it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you) and begin to lathe the clear substance right around the problem area. it’s cold to the touch, and surprisingly shocks jake.

shocks him enough to flinch,

shocks him enough to put his hands on your waist.

you’re sure he notices the sudden pause in your breathing, stupid oxygen mask makes that shit way too loud.

“hey-- easy, shit still hurts.” he hisses. you ignore the way his words make your face hot. 

“sorry,” you barely mumble, suddenly hyper-focused on the way that his hands are still on your body.

those few moments of silence make your stomach churn. you’re positive jake has noticed both his hands on your waist, and the lack of protest that you’ve put up. you’re careful not to move, not even an inch, because that would bring attention to his hands. too much attention and he might just move them.

you’re applying the unnecessary second layer when you decide to speak. “this stuff is really strong, give it a few minutes and you won’t be able to feel anything on your forehead.”

jake nods to the best of his ability. “a few minutes?”

“a few minutes.” you echo.

“a few minutes gives us some time,” he says, thumbs fussing with the edges of your top.

his words and ministrations catch you off guard. so much so that you noticeably tense. “what do you mean by that?” you say, managing to hide the anxiety gnawing the back of your throat.

from the corner of your vision, you can see his bright eyes glance up at you, flicker down to your lips, and back to your eyes.

“how’d you wind up here.”

you decide that it might be hard to explain why jake would need a third layer of this so-called “strong stuff,” so you decide to best to take a step back and away from him.

you hide dissapointment when you feel his hands leave your waist.

“i’m gonna need you to be a bit more specific on what ‘here’ means.” you’re reorginizing your medkit, trying your best to avoid looking at him again until the redness fades from your face.

“this lab. in the middle of nowhere.” is all he says, but you can hear him shuffling behind you. you decide to sit down, trying to set up your automatic suture. 

“technically, i came for quaritch.” you look up. he’s nervous. “i’m far from a soldier, trust me." you clarify, eyes falling back on the appliance. "i came in with a second flight of doctors, scientists, xenobiologists, et cetera., people that quaritch knew he’d need if he wanted to colonize this moon. i mean, parker was here for the money, you knew that-- everyone did. but quaritch wasn't really part of that mission, not at heart.”

you’re fumbling with the device-- god, how did these things work? you remember norm showing you a dozen times, but the memory never quite stuck with you.

“but obviously, with the great war, i immediately left home base with a handful of other nerds like me who didn't want any blood on their ha-- okay, fuck this thing,” you toss the automatic suture back into the med kit, digging around for its more primitive, manual counterpart.

“what’s that?” he asks, bringing a hand to the paste his forehead.

“first of all, don’t touch that, it’s in a really fragile state right now and if you get too much on your fingers, you won’t feel them for a few hours." you notice the way his hand immediately drops into his lap, and the way his ears are sheepishly pinned to the sides of his head. "second, this should be more of a trade-off. you ask me a question, i ask you. mutually beneficial.”

“mutually beneficial?” jake says, smiling knowingly.

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re gross.”

you’ve finally found the surgical needle and thread when you remember your initial question. “so what happened? what’d you do to yourself to get us into this mess.”

“oh yeah? there’s an ‘us’ now?” jake rasps with a smirk in his voice. you’re about to quip back when he quickly carries on with his answer. “i mean i was just out there, flying, reflecting,” oh, he’s getting poetic now?  “trying to just…be alone for a little while, when this fucking stingbat comes straight at me-- i mean straight at me, as if it had some personal vendetta against me,”

you walk up to him with your needle and stitching thread, interrupting his incredible storytelling to wipe away the foggy salve with a handtowel. “can you feel me?” you say, jabbing a finger around the spot.

“i’d like to feel you,” he breathes against the flat of your chest-- dear god why do you keep doing that? why do you keep standing so close to him? none of this was necessary! you could accomplish the same things if you stood at his side!

“fuck off, i wish i let you stay passed out on the ground.”

“you and i both know that isn’t true sweetheart,” jake hums, sighing before continuing with his story. “but it flew right at me, trying to eat my face. i was able to pull it away, but the bitch got a piece of me to-go.”

“wow…the brave jake sully and his formidable opponent,” you lean closer to his face, finally sticking the needle through his skin. “a stingbat.”

his eye twitches at the quick, dull poke. “you sound good when you say my name.”

“you sound better when you’re not saying anything.” you quip.

“and what’s a pretty thing like you doing on pandora?” jake grins.

“patching up a klutz who got his face bitten off by a god damn stingbat.” you chaff, and the way he smiles doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“i didn’t really have that much of a choice,” you decide to elaborate. “it was either dying on that shitty neon planet, or try to do something good in my life.” you’re halfway done, and jake is messing with the cuff of your loose fitting pants. 

“which is?” he’s looking up at you again, with those big bright eyes that are making your job really, really difficult.

“which is stumbling around until toruk makto gets his face bitten off by a stingbat--”

“you’re never letting that go, are you?” he interjects, flicking at your ankle.

“hey! ouch! if it weren’t for me, you’d be passed out on the ground, bleeding out of your forehead. not a very noble way to go, is it?” you say, gently kicking his thigh. you finish off the stitch and take a step back, admiring your clean work. 

“guess that means i owe you my life, hm?” he’s putting his hands together, looking up at you with pleading eyes, feigning desperation. “come on doc, what can i do to repay you?”

you roll your eyes, turning around to repackage everything that you took out from your kit. “i can think of one or two things that you could do to settle your debt.” you say, your words laced with something sultry.

“yeah?” you hear jake from behind you. “and what might that be?”

you shrug the kit over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. when he’s like this, sitting down, it makes him seem so much less intimidating. 

“avoid getting your face bitten off by a sti--”

“say stingbat and i’ll throw this at you.” he’s holding a rock-- where the hell did he get a rock?

you hesitate.

“a stingba--”

jake throws it, missing you by a mile. you laugh, loud, it’s damn near a cackle.

“you’re lucky i lost so much blood. if i was at peak performance i could’ve gotten rid of you.” he’s standing now, you have to pretend like it doesn’t make him infinitely more threatening.

“just like how you got rid of that stingbat?”

“shut up-- need to find another damn rock and actually hit you this time…” he’s stumbling over to his banshee, which -- to your surprise, hadn’t moved much; it seemed to be watching you as you were patching him up, a quick reminder of the bond that some na’vi have with their ikran.

he’s whispering something to his ride when you decide that’s your queue to leave. you’ve done your job, you fixed him up, all in a day's work.

but still, you turn around, finding jake staring right at you.

“don’t get anything in it. like…mud. or anything else. could cause an infection.” you’re suddenly stumbling over your words. “maybe rub some more salves on there-- i honestly don’t really know how na’vi medicine works.”

“definitely seems like something you should know more about.” he jeers.

you nod, pursing your lips. you take a few steps closer to him, very quickly noting the sudden aprehension in his banshee’s stature.

“just come back in two weeks so i can take the stitches out.” 

“maybe i should come over earlier for a checkup.” jake says, coiling his forearms with the banshees antenna. 

“oh, and you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you say, eyeing him.

“you know i would sweetheart.”

you sigh and shrug your shoulders, taking a few steps away from his ikran. “fine, a week.”

“two days.” he bargains.

“four days, and i’ll be waiting for you.” you say, and his lack of a rebuttal is a silent sign of agreement. 

all jake does is bow his head, slip his visor over his brow bone, and take off into the sky of the early evening.

and all you do is wipe the sweat off your palms, and linger a little too fondly as his ikran disappears over the forest.

#avatar #atwow #avatar fic #atwow fanfiction #jake sully #jake sully x reader #✧. ┊ avatar ! #✧. ┊ ufo !

[intynidad]

I have a request! Could you write nsfw Isaac hc’s with male reader? I don’t reeaally have specifics, but if you could maybe include a bit of insecure reader too that would be great..thanks!

FINALLY SOME LOVE FOR MY BOYYYYYYY

we need more male reader in the yandere fandom to be honest i also put some sfw headcanons in the mix as a treat 

isaac nsfw and sfw headcanons with bit insecure male reader!

When you brought up the topic to Isaac, his genuine confusion was evident. His mind seemed to go into a state of bewilderment, questioning with a resounding "What? Why?" He struggled to comprehend how someone as strikingly handsome as you could harbor insecurities about any aspect of yourself. In that moment, you unlocked his hypeman mode, and he embarked on a heartfelt monologue, highlighting every admirable quality he saw in you (which essentially encompassed everything). As he poured out his thoughts, he even shared some of his own vulnerabilities, silently hoping that you wouldn't perceive him as awkward. This intimate exchange strengthened the bond between you, and a mutual promise was made to support each other in overcoming these insecurities. Whether it was dealing with acne or ill-fitting clothes, you embarked on a journey of improvement together, engaging in skincare dates and sewing sessions, dedicated to addressing each concern with shared determination.

now let's go for the good stuff ;)

Isaac is not the biggest down there but his cock is thick so he will compensate with passion and rhythm 

he is the definition of a switch, but if you get shy during the session he will take the reins of the situation 

really likes giving out oral, he enjoys the tangy flavor of your pre-cum

he really likes oral but likes to take it slow, he will start at the base of your shaft and slowly go up and lick the tip until is pink  and when you are all worked up he then takes it in his mouth 

push his head down that it, just do it he loves it

if when fucking, you try to cover your face he will do one of two things he will either: 

gently cup your face and make you look him in the eyes 

or go rough and say something among the lines “Look at me when my cock is inside you, prince”

if you are the one fucking him, he will moan so loudly, he is very vocal about what he is feeling and would want to touch you as much as he could 

if you ever want to turn off the lights because you don't like how your body looks, he totally gets it!

he would actually prefer it too so you don't see all of his freckles around his body 

(kiss them and he will die) 

the king of body worship, mf be thanking you for fucking him

loves to tease your nipples, think is kinda cute how hard they get

this man made to himself the promise to kiss every inch of your body, and let me tell you he is DETERMINED

#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere story #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yanderecore #soft yandere #yandere x reader #smut #yandere boy #yandere x male reader #male reader #isaac the customer