#i wrote this instead of studying

[quindread]

THE COTTAGECORE MARI AU PROMPT THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

Pairing: Daminette (edit: they’re like 19/20 in this, post high-school)

Rating: It has mature themes, you have been warned. But it’s pretty tame at the same time. Violence + Sexual Themes

________________

Mari is diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety disorder after she quite literally removed her beloved city’s supervillain (and her dear partner’s parent) from the plane of existence. Like she removes the suffering from the minds of all of Paris and has Gabriel written off in a car accident a year after his wife’s disappearance. Only her Court (Adrien, Kagami, Zoe, Alix, Max) and the Order remembers. Mari and Adrien decide not to pursue a relationship. They’re both healing and are decidedly better off friends - siblings in everything but blood.

Lila, who was not punished due to her not really being a miraculous holder and upsetting the balance, continues to slander Mari. Her class isn’t hostile but has no desire to interact with the “new and mean Marinette” Lila was painting her to be. It’s still a huge betrayal given the fact that Mari was supportive and very generous to these people.

So here’s how her new housing arrangement works: have you ever wondered how Gina can afford to travel around the world without a job? Yeah, I think she came from money. Like, old money - real estate old money to be precise. Passive income and such. Hearing about her Fairy’s situation, she offers an unused property at the countryside of Metropolis.

Marinette’s therapist and parents approve of her vacationing there for the summer when they realize that her stressors and triggers where all environmental. So off our girl goes!

Note: She does not have the mother box with her anymore, just Tikki, Plagg, and Kaalki. (She does have unrestricted access to it as the Grand Guardian though - she trains with the Order once a week in Tibet until she doesn’t)

Mari is aware of the Supers and was relieved that the Kwamis don’t show up in x-ray visions and with the fear of them eavesdropping she learns FSL to communicate with them.

The townhouse and the verdure around the property inspires Mari to start a garden. The quiet oddly soothes her and when she feels lonely she goes into town or the nearby farmer’s market where she charms the locals. She meets the Kents - they love her! Martha enjoys baking with her. Lois uncovers her identity as Jagged and Clara Nightingale’s exclusive (and reclusive) designer - they bond over fashion trends and the gossip surrounding the industry. Clark and Jon were another story.

She figures them out having sensed the same soul in Superman and Superboy in this father-and-son duo. They x-ray her as a precaution and finds the mysterious cracks and evidence of past injuries that should have killed her. There’s a very anti-climatic reveal that Martha and Lois are not privy to with respect to Marinette’s wishes.

At least one Kent would be in her home during the day. The Kwamis are free to roam around when it was Clark and/or Jon visiting. She ends up bonding with Jon who also grew up too fast (metaphorically and literally).

She ends up extending her stay in Metropolis indefinitely. Her parents also decided to open a branch of their patisserie there which Mari managed. They visit her as often as they could.

Mari was dismayed to find that no, Metropolis had no schools with both a fashion and business degree - that’s how she ends up in Gotham University.

Jon tells Mari about a Damian - a friend of his.

J: He’s…. uh… he has a big heart.

M: …

J: He’s a bit of an asshole(?)

M: Ah.

Mari meets Damian who reminds her of Kagami - antisocial and proper. They share a few business classes and are both members of the art club.

Mari is still this ball of anxiousness and has only allowed Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi and Katherine Karlo into her life, the former she learned was close to Damian - she didn’t mind when she and the girls met up with Damian, he was quiet, honest, and minded his own business. Through their hangouts Damian finds out about the friendship between Jon and Mari.

He’s hesitant to befriend her at first due to the conflicting rumors about her: due to her timid personality she had a split reputation. One side called her sweet, shy, and kind. While the other calling her arrogant, high-maintenance, and rude. He soon finds out that the latter half were spread by cliques who’s offer of friendship she declined and men she rejected. He was glad that he relented to Maps’ insistent invitations - she was a decent person to hang out with and it didn’t hurt that she was pleasing to the eye. (She also enjoyed sharing her vegetarian salads with him - he starts appreciating it more when he learns that she picks the vegetables straight from the garden she grows.)

As her luck would have it, a robbery unfolds at one of their favorite coffee spots. Mari and Damian - who were both pretending to be civ - try to find a way to protect their friends. The robbers recognizes Damian as a Wayne and takes him and another GU(a school for rich and affluent people’s children) kid - Marinette - who had stood in front of her friends.

They’re gagged, blindfolded, and carted off to who knows where. Damian discreetly activates a distress signal and the bats spur into action. Mari, aware that she was sturdier than Damian, draws the men’s attention to her (she purposely pisses them off and gets beaten up when they start to pester Damian).

M: [removes her gag somehow] Really? A ski mask? And in black? How boring can you get?

*Damian shaking his head furiously in the background*

Kidnapper(KN): Shut up, girlie!

M: You know I always wondered how Kidnappers could have a secret a warehouse as a hideout. It’s not like you can afford the rent—

KN: Are you trying to get yourself killed?

M: You’re backed up by some politician aren’t you?

KN: H-How the fuck did this bitch know?

M: There’s literally a stack of campaign papers behind you.

KN: Wha—

M: That’s some shit graphic design by the way. I’ve seen grade schoolers that can do better.

KN: [points a gun at her] Shut up or I’ll blow your brains out.

M: You wouldn’t.

KN: The fuck do you know—

M: You need me alive to get ransom from my parents.

KN: …Nobody said you had to be in one piece though.

M: Touché—[get slapped hard]

*Damian basically starts convulsing in the background*

M: …Damn. You punch like a cunt—[And the kidnappers basically start to rough her up]

The bats arrive in five minutes and it’s Red Hood that finds them first. He sees these mf’s beating up a woman and goes ballistic(pun intended). Red Robin and Spoiler has to forcibly restrain him when he starts to use his fist instead of his guns.

M: [bleeding and bruised] And that’s how you deck someone, you amateurs.

D: [who was released by Black Bat is confused, mad at himself, and in awe] You blithering idiot! Why the fuck would you aggravate our captors like that?

M: [delirious] It was either you or me Damian. Can’t have your pretty face damaged now, can we?

D: [Is floored and very concerned] And what of yours?

M: … dun worry—my assets are…elsewhere… [passes out from the pain]

D: …

Later, his family would tease him about the flirting when he isn’t all sensitive about the incident.

Winter break comes, most of the Batfam visits the Kents(they have a penthouse/some ridiculous property in Metropolis) as a tradition. The Kents went to visit Gotham and stayed at the manor last year.

(Batfam who went: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, and Damian)

They visit Mari too. Dick and Steph are absolutely thrilled about her cottagecore lifestyle. So much so that they match her aesthetic and begin helping out in the garden - they send pictures to Alfred who request they bring back fresh produce.

Jon and Jason plot to get Damian and Mari together. Unbeknownst to them that Damian was already resolute on courting Mari like the decorous man that he was - he didn’t know what he was doing but Mari’s flush when he initiates flirting tells him he’s doing okay.

Because of his childhood, Damian was never the type to be touchy but imagine his shock when he finds out that one of his more prominent love languages was physical touch. He realizes he’s touch-starved almost immediately when Mari starts giving him small touches like a hand against his bicep, she had a fondness for touching his hair which never failed to deliver a shiver down his spine, and hugs from her are comforting - she felt like home.

Meanwhile Mari does not have any idea how she survived the early stages of Damian’s advances. He was blunt and did not pull his words with insults but it apparently translated to him being verbally open with his affections.

M: I always wanted to be the Knitting Fairy while growing up.

D: Does it not please you that you became a garden fairy instead?

M: Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad.

D: Well, you certainly look the part.

M: [turns into the same shade as the poppy beside her]

And then when the tension between them became more prominent he wasn’t shy with dropping innuendos too.

M: [open’s the door for Damian, haggard from lifting sacks of garden soil] Oh, I didn’t know you were coming so early. I’m a bit of a mess. Sorry.

D: [Tilts his head] You say that as if I wouldn’t appreciate you sweaty and tousled after a rigorous activity.

M: [self-combusts]

And when the touching began?

M: Damian, what color do you think looks better with this shade of blue?

D: [places a hand on her side while looking over her shoulder] I think the a more neutral cream would do.

M: [stops functioning]

Their first kiss?

Pulled straight out of a book that Marinette only read in the privacy of her bedroom.

They’re teasing each other, it evolves to a game of cat and mouse with Damian skillfully evading her. She corners him by turning on some of her sprinkles. He gets wet, growls in the way he would in Mari’s dreams, and pulls of his shirt. She’s too distracted by the hard planes of his stomach to notice him prowling towards her like a beast moving to claim his prey. He picks her off the ground with ease - he’s a foot taller than her - and takes her to the sprinklers.

(I’m going to write this part out properly, maybe to inspire myself or a potential adopter of this prompt)

“Nononono!” Marinette shrieks as the first round of water splashes her. She writhes but Damian had her arms held down her sides.

“All is fair in love and war, Ya Amar.” She ignores the endearment in favor of closing her eyes as the sprinkles rotate in their direction again. But she knows what it means. Ya Amar. My moon. His moon. The water had nothing on the chill that ran down her spine

The water stars seeping into her intimates and she’s soberly aware that the light fabric of her dress would betray her. It doesn’t take long for Damian to discover that fact, he releases a strangle sound. She opens her eyes, he snaps his eyes from where he was clearly looking at her chest. He scrambles to drop her.

“Shit— I’m sorry. This was not my intention—“ he starts but she’s faster. Her now free arms grasps his shoulders and without a second thought, she drops her lips to meet his. Damian inhales sharply and he tilts his head, temporarily breaking the kiss before raising her higher and pulling her by the back of neck - he kisses her with hunger and passion that has Marinette melting further against his chest.

She wraps her legs around his back and he moves to tightly grasp both the back of her thighs. She would worry about bruises later when she didn’t have Damian’s tongue caressing her own. He drops them to the ground and Marinette does not release her hold over his waist. She whines against his lips when she feels the consequences of their activity.

His hands start wandering as he greedily collects and files the sounds that leaves her lips. He begins to trail kisses down her neck to the neckline of her dress that now clung to her body like a second skin giving him his first peek at the maddening shape of her body. And just when he trails a finger against the underside of her breast a loud noise pulls them apart.

Jason finds them and the sight in Mari’s garden has him dropping the shovel he was asked to bring over.

J: Fuck! No, don’t stop! Hell—I’ll leave—I didn’t see shit!

D: [moving to cover Marinette who covered her face in embarrassment] Fuck off, Todd!

J: I’m sorry! [slams the door shot]

D: Tt.

J: [shouts from inside the house] Use protection!

D: Todd!

They started officially dating that day and Jason had no reservations in sharing that he definitely cockblocked his little brother much to Mari and Damian’s horror.

Both keeps the PDA to minimum in school but it was very clear how amorous they where in “private”. There is a table in the art hall that Mari can’t quite look at without blushing to her roots.

She finds out he’s Robin after her first encounter with his alter-ego. He confesses his past when she confronts him. There’s fear of abandonment in his eyes when he gazes at her after his spiel but she kisses his worries and doubts away. She even goes to show her appreciation for his years of service to Gotham.

Her reveal happens when she unceremoniously drops a vial in Jason’s hand claiming that it would remedy the effects of the Lazarus pits with continuous use - it was completed after a year in the making.

Cardinal joins the Batfam occasionally as part of Batman’s contingency plans. They respect her choice as a retired super-soldier and try to keep her out of the business which she appreciates. She is officially initiated as a member of Justice League Dark as an informant/magic specialist and a wildcard.

Years later, she legally inherits the property from Gina when she and Damian get engaged. Damian moves in with her and she lives her cottage life all while being a reclusive designer that comes out once in a while for fashion week.

FIN

AN:

Maybe there’s a Lila take down somewhere but I don’t have the energy to write her at all. We all know its Damian and Tim that makes sure she never sets a foot in high society ever again.

Ig add some details about learning to healthily cope with her anxiety disorder under the guidance and love of her found family? (I have a similar illness but me and my therapist are still figuring it out so I have little idea how to write this) Her PTSD does not need further discussion (miss ma’am had to kill someone) but her anxiety disorder stems from the fact the she’s a person who’s in charge of world-ending powers - everyone and even yourself can become untrustworthy. She starts to get nervous from misreading body languages and everyone is suddenly out to get her.

#mlb x dc #i wrote this instead of studying #daminette #marinette dupain cheng #bamf marinette #maribat

[erenfox]

Sometimes I randomly think about how Percy witnessed and played a major role in the death of his first friend at Camp on the start of his 16th birthday.

And about how even after the events of HoO, ToA and CoTG - which is a very long time after TLO - May Castellan is still in her kitchen, happily preparing sandwiches and cookies for her darling little boy.

#yes i like suffering #i wrote this instead of studying #i wrote this instead of sleeping #jason never had a real mother #and looks awfully similiar to luke #and may never really spent bonding time with luke #jason really should have gone to visit and stay by may's side #sigh #luke castellan #may castellan #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #heroes of olympus

[cadmium-bear]

How to Train your Werewolf Girlfriend to Study

Note: yeah I decided to write this during my study break 📚 this is a short fic where Wednesday rewards Enid to encourage her to study

Exams were coming up and Enid has asked Wednesday to help her study. This meant that they would study in the library in their free time during the day and study in their shared room during the night. Enid didn’t realize how serious Wednesday took her request, confiscating her phone during their study sessions.

The werewolf could tell she was improving but the longer this dragged out the less motivation she had. Wednesday could tell her girlfriend needed some encouragement with all her soft whining that she doesn’t verbalize.

“I’m stuck on this problem, Wends.” Enid said as she slumped forward.

“You did the first step correctly and we went over this kind of problem. You can answer that, Enid.” Wednesday stated as she looked at Enid’s work.

The goth observed the werewolf rattle her brain to recall the solution. She’s aware that Enid was no genius but she’s not dumb either. She just needs a bit of encouragement. Wednesday sighs knowing what she has to offer to her girlfriend.

“Enid, mi amor. If you can answer this without my help, I will… hold your hand for twenty seconds.”

Enid turns to Wednesday excitedly. She knows the psychic is not a fan of physical affection so her willingness to use it as a reward was something serious. Despite the blush on the goth’s cheek she kept a serious expression so Enid knew she was true to her word.

“How could I say no to that?” Enid said with renewed vigor.

After a minute or so, Enid put her pen down to show Wednesday her work. Wednesday turns to Enid with a smile, “Looks like you deserve a reward.”

Enid excitedly offers her hand for Wednesday to take. The smaller girl only chuckles as she intertwines their hands. Taking it a step further, she leans in to place a quick kiss on Enid’s cheek. She leans back to see the colorful girl’s surprised reaction.

“You’ve been working hard, ma cherie. You deserve a bit more.” Wednesday explained.

Enid could only react with a goofy grin. It’s rare for Wednesday to offer physical touch so whenever she does, it always made the werewolf giddy.

“Do I get anything if I do well on all my exams?” Enid teasingly asks.

“Show me results first then you can have your reward, mi lobo.” Wednesday smirks.

Enid couldn’t blame the other students for theorizing that she got better grades when she started dating Wednesday.

#wenclair #wednesday x enid #wenclair fanfic #i wrote this instead of studying #back to the books for me

[marblemoovt]

Cowboy Riding - Simon Riley/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Porn With Plot, AFAB Reader, Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Slight Praise Kink, Slight Degradation Kink, Bathtub Sex, Pet Names (Love, Pet, Darling).

Summary:

Working two jobs to make ends meet, you keep running into a certain cowboy.

------

His words snap you out of your daze. “Tell me, love. Have you ever ridden before?” It’s a random question, but maybe this is his attempt at small talk. You search his eyes but can’t decipher the emotion they hold.

“I don’t own a horse, but I can ride one,” you reply. You can barely afford for yourself, let alone another creature. One day you’ll scrounge up enough money and get the hell out of this town. But for now, you remain stuck. Stuck pouring drinks. Stuck dealing with drunkards. Stuck bathing adult men who can’t seem to bathe themselves.

“What about a cowboy? Ever ridden one of those?”

Note:

I can't believe I finished this. I probably should have waited until after my first final, which is on the 10th, but oh well.

I'm still learning how to write smut. I struggle a lot with it because I'm so used to reading other people who write it beautifully. But you know what, if I keep writing, one of them's bound to turn out decent lol. Just pray to the rng gods.

Since this is my first fic for Ghost, I wasn't sure how to capture his character, especially since this is in a cowboy setting.

Thank you @pipops for introducing me to cowboy!ghost

Am I projecting my red dead redemption 2 hyperfixation on this? Maybe.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Bang!

The saloon doors slam open as a body flies in and collides with a table. The splintering of wood catches your attention from the bar. You set down the glass you were drying. The patrons erupt into hushed whispers as everyone cranes their heads to get a good look, but no one moves. Sighing, you walk around the counter to check if the poor soul is still alive. You knew you shouldn’t have picked up this shift, but the other bartender begged you to cover for them. Plus, there’s a nice revolver you have your eye on.

The creak of the floorboards fills the silence in the room. Upon closer inspection, the heap of debris and limbs is an unconscious, but very much alive, man. You kick his shin but receive only a groan in response. Your boss is not going to be happy about this. As you roll up your sleeves, the doors swing open, and a shadow looms over you.

“Hands off,” a gruff voice locks your body in place. Turning your head, you meet a broad chest. Huh. You crane your neck, and there’s a skeleton glaring at you. Your lips are glued shut, words trapped by an invisible seam. His eyes are dark; they remind you of coal that has been set aflame. Maybe that’s why his gaze feels scalding. Despite being autumn, the room is unbearably hot.

Without another word, the mysterious stranger picks up the unconscious man like a sack of potatoes and slings him over his shoulder. He turns to exit, but you grab his vest. He stares at you in silence. You look at the broken furniture and swallow the lump in your throat. The fear of having your pay docked pries your lips apart.

“You need to pay for that,” and you point at the heap of wood. For a second, you think you’ll end up like that man: battered and unconscious. Arms thick like tree trunks and a frame that hulks yours. You don’t stand a chance, but that’s why guns were made. You eye the shiny pair of revolvers around his waist and grimace. Let’s hope he’s a terrible shot.

The skeleton man grunts, “Later,” and leaves. The second the saloon doors click shut, the chatter resumes. The atmosphere returns to normal like nothing ever happened. You grumble and fetch a broom and dustpan, wracking your brain for an excuse to give to your boss.

Unfortunately, your boss is incredibly pissed. He doesn’t dock your pay, but damn, did you receive an earful. You rub your temples, trying to soothe the throbbing. But the shrill scream of your boss still haunts your eardrums. The only reason you keep this job is that the customers tip well, especially once you get them piss-drunk.

Exiting the saloon, you head to your next job at the inn. It’s not common for you to work two shifts in one day, but you’re short on money. You pass by the gunsmith and pause at the display window, looking in with a sigh. When you arrive, they assign you to the baths, your least favourite task. There’s just something repulsive about bathing strangers—men—who feel entitled to do as they please with you. Sometimes you get lucky, and they only require you to fetch items and set up the bath. Other times you have to tend to customers with wandering hands. And let’s just say you were relieved of your bath duties for a few weeks after shoving a bar of soap down a man’s throat—but not before breaking his hands!

The stairs creak underneath your weight, and you hug the basket of towels and soap to your chest. You silently pray that whoever is behind that door isn’t a complete asshole. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in.”

You open the door, and there’s a skeleton staring at you.

Fuck.

You close the door without a word. Should you leave? But you can’t not do your job. Another incident like last time and you could find yourself fired. It’s not like he remembers you, right? You crouch in front of the door with your head in your hands. What are you going to do?

The door swings open, and a shadow looms over you. “Are you coming in, or are you gonna dillydally?” His husky tone redirects the throbbing in your temples elsewhere, and you press your thighs together. “Either you get in, or I ask for a replacement.”

You shoot up and rush past him into the room. Wordlessly, you set your basket on the counter and check that the water in the tub isn’t too hot. Flicking the bubbles off your hand, you stand to the side and wait.

“Aren’t you gonna undress me?”

Your gaze snaps up to meet his. “What?” you sputter, blood thrumming in your veins.

He tilts his head. “Isn’t that your job?”

You pad over to him like a wary animal, watching for the first sign of danger to turn tail. His dark eyes remain fixed on you; they pull you closer to him. Your fingers graze his neck when you untie his bandanna. You take off his vest, your touch trailing along his broad shoulders. The air feels heavy, and your lungs ache from the pressure. Breathing in deeply, you hold it in before exhaling slowly. Your pulse continues to quicken. He never looks away from you. Even when you begin unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes burn into the crown of your head. You pull the fabric apart and suck in a gasp. Muscles, well-defined and chiselled, wherever your gaze wanders. An array of scars litter his body like brushstrokes, and you restrain yourself from tracing every single one with your tongue. 

Clearing your throat, you reach up a hand towards his mask. “Don’t.” The command is sharp, and it cuts through the building tension. You look at him with wide eyes. His grip on your wrist isn’t harsh. You’re more startled than anything. You didn’t even see him move. “The mask stays on,” he says, releasing you. You nod dumbly and fumble with the button on his pants, tugging the material down. All that remains are his undergarments. You swallow, and your throat feels like it’s covered in tar. You undress him, and he’s—almost—as bare as the day he was born. The words clog your throat. It’s not like you’re surprised since he’s a behemoth of a man. But holy shit is he also massive in other parts of his body.

He doesn’t say anything. You haven’t decided yet whether that’s a blessing or a curse. No command to touch him, no order to undress and join him. He walks around your dazed form and lowers himself into the tub. The water sloshes and spills over the sides. Bubbles obscure most of his body. Damn it. You grab a towel and a bar of soap from your basket. 

Standing behind him, you dip the soap in water and lather it between your hands. Then you rub his shoulders, fingers travelling along every bump and ridge of his muscles. You start a light massage, keeping in mind to use more pressure than usual. Kneading any knots you find, a low rumble purrs from his throat, and your legs press together. His head leans back, and even in the bath, he’s almost as tall as you. Your hands move down to his biceps, and you bend over to reach them. 

You take a peek at his mask and admire the white skull against the black fabric. Obsidian eyes meet yours. They steal all the air in your lungs and turn the blood in your veins into molten lava. His gaze searches your face, and there’s a rush of heat simmering beneath your skin. You blink and avert your gaze, pulling away to get the rag. Wetting the cloth, you wipe down his body. He smells like pine trees and campfires with a faint whiff of bourbon. It’s sweet and earthy—addicting. You shudder, doing your best to ignore the pulsating in your core. 

“Alright there, love?” he asks. There’s a sparkle of mischief in his eyes as he rakes them over your figure. “Promise I don’t bite. Much.” You can hear the smug grin in his tone. The pool of heat in your belly bubbles and overflows into the rest of your body. The man knows exactly what he is doing to you. 

“Fine,” you squeak, blaming your rise in temperature on the warm water and manual labour. 

“I went to pay for the table, but you weren’t there,” he says. You stop scrubbing his arms and rewet the towel, wringing it out to buy yourself more time.

“Oh?” That’s all you manage to say. Oh. No witty remark or even a complete sentence. Just oh. You bite your lip and turn to face him. Much to your surprise, his eyes aren’t black, but a deep brown. The flicker of candlelight makes them look like pools of honey. Colour does not affect their power to hold you in place. For a brief second, you wonder how they would look between your thighs. “Were you looking for me?” you whisper.

“Not at all.” And his voice is husky, rough as the gravel on the road. It leaves you raw and wanting. You drag the towel across his chest, feeling his pulse beat steadily beneath your fingertips. Your heart is thumping in your ears, twice the rate of his. Trailing down between the valley of his pecs, you wash his abdomen. It feels like you’re cleaning a statue, albeit a squishy one. You hesitate to go further. 

He stops you. “I can take it from here,” and he takes the towel. You stand back, fiddling with your fingers now that they have nothing to hold. The splash and drip of water fill the void of silence. 

“How’s that man?” you find yourself asking. “The one you carried away.”

“In jail,” he responds. Simple and short. The silence stretches. You fidget with the buttons on your sleeve, picking at them until you force yourself to stop in fear of loosening the thread.

When the quiet becomes too much, you ask another question. “Was he bad?”

He shrugs. Beads of water roll off his collarbone and down his chest. “Don’t know, don’t care. Had a pretty bounty on his head, and that’s all that matters.” Your head perks up. Bounty hunting always fascinated you, but you have neither the equipment nor the skills for it.

“You’re a bounty hunter?” You step closer to the tub, fingers grasping the metal rim.

Amusement glints in his eyes. “When I want to be.”

His answer is vague; too vague now that your interest has been peaked. “What else do you do then?” you ask, leaning forward in excitement.

There’s barely any white beneath the skull mask. You’re treading in an ocean of coffee with nothing to keep you afloat. You would risk drowning if it meant having his gaze on you for a moment longer. He examines you and cocks his head. “Do you do this with everyone you bathe, or am I an exception?”

The question catches you off guard. You can’t remember the last time you worked a bath where the company was enjoyable. “Just haven’t seen you around before, that’s all.”

He chuckles. It’s low and sinful. You know the sound will repeat in your head later tonight once you’re alone in your room. “Darling, the less you know, the better.” The pet name sends a pleasant buzz through your body. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you bolder and drunk on impulsivity.

You tilt your face forward, your nose brushing against his mask. “Why? Would you have to kill me otherwise?” You’re joking, but the look in his eyes sends a chill down your spine. And then you remember that you know nothing about this man. You don’t even know his name.

His eyes trail down to your lips, and you almost miss how his throat bobs. “Wouldn’t that be a shame,” he mumbles. He locks his gaze back onto yours, and you inch closer. Would you have kissed by now if the mask wasn’t in the way? Your lashes flutter, lips a hair away from his face. He waits for you to make a move. Your fingers dig into the wooden boards of the tub, and your lips graze cotton. At the last second, you wrench yourself away, staring at the wooden floorboards. 

Tar coats your throat once more, and the words feel like molasses on your tongue. “If you don’t need me anymore, I can head on out.” 

You’re moments away from bolting, but his stern tone stops you. “No,” then a bit softer, “stay.” You peer at his eyes and relax your shoulders.

Your lips quirk into a smile, and you mock salute. “Yes, sir. I promise to be on the lookout. No one will attack you while you’re buck naked.” You pull a stool up to the side of the tub and sit. 

He chuffs and rolls his eyes. “Ghost will do.”

“Ghost, huh? Unusual name,” you comment, introducing yourself afterwards. 

“Yeah? Well, it’s not as stupid as Soap.” You have no idea who Soap is, but you feel sorry for them. 

“Who would name their child—”

“Do you live alone?” he interrupts you.

You pause at the sudden shift in conversation. “I beg your pardon?”

“You work two jobs. No one to go home to?” And there’s that look again like he’s studying you.

You frown. “I don’t think that’s very polite of you to assume.”

He leans back and closes his eyes. “So that’s a yes, then.” You swear he’s smirking underneath that mask; he sounds too smug not to be.

You bristle, heat crawling up the nape of your neck.“Well, what about you? Got a ranch with a wife and five kids?” you snap.

He cracks open his eyes and gives you a sidelong glance. “Jealous?” he teases with a lilt in his voice. “No. I have my horse and my… brothers. That’s enough for me.”

“You don’t get lonely?” you ask.

“Never, especially not right now.” His stare is a permanent brand on your skin. You shift in your seat before getting up entirely. Grabbing the towel from him, you walk behind the tub. 

You clear your throat, and he leans forward, exposing his muscular back to you. You hold your breath and trace what looks like an old knife wound. “Where did you get this?”

Ghost shakes his head. “Like I said. The less you know, the better.” You don’t press further, cataloging each scar you come across and tucking the information into the far recesses of your mind. 

When you’re done scrubbing his back, the bubbles have dissipated. The water is cloudy from the soap, but you can see the long curve of his cock twitching. Your fingers itch to explore his shaft and trace every vein you find. 

His words snap you out of your daze. “Tell me, love. Have you ever ridden before?” It’s a random question, but maybe this is his attempt at small talk. You search his eyes but can’t decipher the emotion they hold. 

“I don’t own a horse, but I can ride one,” you reply. You can barely afford for yourself, let alone another creature. One day you’ll scrounge up enough money and get the hell out of this town. But for now, you remain stuck. Stuck pouring drinks. Stuck dealing with drunkards. Stuck bathing adult men who can’t seem to bathe themselves. 

“What about a cowboy? Ever ridden one of those?” He looks dead serious. Is this attractive man flirting with you? Your eyes flick towards the water and fuck if you thought he was big before. 

You bite your lip and walk around to his side. “Not lately,” you answer. Your fingers dip beneath the water and skim along his stomach. “Are you offering to take me on a ride?” And you’re drowning, swimming in endless depths of honey and gold. You sink deeper. Feel your blood turn to sludge as your limbs become heavy. All oxygen leaves the room when his large hands encompass yours. 

“I am. Won’t throw a fuss if you decline,” Ghost murmurs. It’s an offer, not a demand. Calluses brush against the back of your hand. You pull away and take a few steps back. He nods and places his hands on the sides of the tub. Before he can lift himself out, your clothes plop onto the ground in a pile. The soft thump draws his attention, and his irises darken. 

You preen under his appraising stare, rubbing your thighs together for relief. The air teases your nipples into stiff peaks, and you hear him swallow. His eyes follow the sway of your hips as you strut closer. 

He sucks in a breath. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” and his voice cracks with want. 

You drag a finger across his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. Leaning into his ear, you whisper, “Is there room for one more in there?”

The groan he utters sends a spike of arousal to your core. He looks at you with blown pupils and gives his shaft a few pumps. “There’s a seat right here,” he says, and you climb into the tub to claim it. The water is lukewarm at best, but the man beneath you radiates heat. Your clit brushes against the tip of his cock, and you hiss through clenched teeth. You definitely need some preparation before attempting to take his length in you. Not only is he long, but he’s girthy too. And the thought of it splitting you apart makes you clench. You seat yourself on his thighs, his erection pressing against your stomach. His hands cup your bottom, and he kneads the soft flesh. “Gotta stretch you out first,” and his fingers spread your slick folds. Your breath hitches when he draws circles around your entrance. “Ready?” 

“Fuck yes,” you respond, aching to be filled. Ghost plunges one finger inside, and your nails dig into his shoulders. One of his fingers feels like two of yours. The slight burn fizzles when he sets a steady pace, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your hips rock to match his movements. “More,” you plead. 

A breathy chuckle rumbles from his chest. “As you wish,” and he adds another digit. Crescent moons mark his skin, and the sting spurs him on. He crooks his fingers to reach the spongy area on your walls. All your nerves short-circuit, and you beg him to do it again. So he focuses on that sweet spot, stroking until your vision becomes spotty. When the meaty part of his palm grinds against your clit, your walls spasm as your orgasm hits you like a stampede. He doesn’t stop, pistoning his fingers with deadly precision.

“No more, please,” you beg. You’re starting to become too sensitive. The pleasure is teetering on that fine line that separates it from pain. You try to wiggle away, but his other hand pins you in place.

“You can take it. I know you can,” Ghost coos, fingers seeking to coax another climax from you. You bite your lip and shake your head. Tears sting the corner of your eyes. Still riding your previous high, you’re dangerously close to that precipice. He adds a third finger, sending you careening off the edge. The second orgasm rips through you, electricity sparking through your veins and setting every nerve ablaze. This time he slows down and allows you to ride his fingers. Your hips roll, grinding against his palm, anything to add to the friction.

“Fuuuuck,” you moan, trembling from the aftershocks of your climax. You slide off his fingers and bring them to your mouth, licking them clean.

He groans at the sight. “Fucking hell, pet.” His hips jerk when you grip his cock, sliding your thumb across the tip. “Ride me,” he orders. The authoritative tone makes your stomach coil. His hands rest on your waist, fingertips bruising your hips. “Don’t be shy. Show me how well you can ride my cock.” His words are filthy, and you want him to kiss that dirty mouth of his.

You take in a shaky breath. “Yes, sir.” Aligning yourself, you sink down slowly. The stretch is incomparable to earlier. Even after three fingers, you’re still struggling to take him. He grunts and digs into your waist, thighs quivering with anticipation. There’s a delicious burn as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girthy length. He disappears into you inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt.

“Christ, you’re tight,” he spits out. You try to even your breathing. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and you can feel him throbbing inside you. His tip kisses the entrance of your womb, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. “Alright there, love?” Your mind is unable to process his question. There’s a thick fog blanketing your head, and all you manage is a whimper. He chuckles and strokes your lower back. “You haven’t even started moving yet.”

Like a newborn foal, your legs struggle to support your weight. Using his thighs, you lift yourself up and sink back down. The sensation of his cock dragging along your walls knocks all the air out of your lungs. You’re eager to chase that feeling. You pick up the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm. The water around you sloshes, and waves form with each bounce of your hips. His hands trail up your body, and he brushes your nipples with his thumbs. He hums, admiring how they pebble from his touch. You shudder and lean into him, mewling when he tugs and twists your nipples between his fingers.

“You’re riding me so well, pet.” His praise is music to your ears. You want to hear more, want him to moan your name as you milk him for all he’s got. So your hips move quicker, slamming into him at a brutal pace. He’s consistently rubbing against your cervix, and you’ve already cum multiple times because of this. “Gonna kill me with that sweet cunt of yours,” he grunts. 

The only thought left in your mind is to feel his seed spill inside you. And when you beg him to fill you up, the look he gives you is predatory. His hands return to your waist, and he starts using you. He uses you like an object for his pleasure. His strong arms lift you before slamming you down onto his cock, and he repeats this motion. You don’t move, too cock-drunk to do anything but take what he gives you.  

All you can smell is cedar and bourbon mixed with the musk of sweat. It overwhelms you, and you don’t think you can work at the bar anymore without your arousal smouldering like the embers of a flame. A salty aftertaste remains on your tongue, and you wonder if he tastes as good as he smells. Ghost curses when you clench around him like a vice. You could listen to him make these noises forever.

He’s twitching wildly inside you, and your clit throbs alongside it. “Fuck, darling. Gonna stuff you full just like you asked. You’re filthy like that, aren’t ya? Riding a man you just met like a whore, begging him to fill you with his seed.” You clench at his words, and his amused chuckle tightens the knot in your stomach. His deft fingers find your clit and mercilessly tease the bundle of nerves. The toe-curling pleasure is too much. You’re starting to lose track of where one orgasm ends and another orgasm begins. “Again. Cum,” he commands, and your body obeys. Your vision blurs, and your heartbeat crescendoes in your ears. He’s officially ruined having sex with anyone else for you.

His hips rut into you, chasing his own high. Your walls flutter around his cock, and it throbs in response. He chants your name like a prayer, dissolving into a groan as he empties his seed inside you. Thick ropes of hot cum paint your walls. You stay seated, panting to catch your breath. His chest heaves, glistening with sweat. He admires the bulge in your stomach before gingerly unsheathing himself from you. A grimace tugs at your lips as you clench around emptiness.

Ghost steps out of the tub and dries himself with a spare towel from your basket. He gets dressed and wordlessly moves towards the door.

“Will I see you again?” you ask, clambering after him. Your knees knock together, but your grip on the tub keeps you upright. The breeze chills your wet skin, and you can barely walk. You’re worried he’ll disappear if you let him go. Like an apparition. Like a ghost.

He pauses in front of the door and looks at you over his shoulder. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“I’ve been meaning to learn—”

He interrupts you. He seems to have a habit of doing that. “Sunrise. At the lake. I’ll teach you,” and he leaves without another word.

You stagger over to your clothes and slip them on, the fabric clinging to your damp skin. When you grab the basket from the counter, you nearly drop it from the unexpected weight. Rummaging through the towels, your fingers brush against cool metal. 

Inside is the revolver you had your eye on, and engraved on the barrel is a familiar skull.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

The number of headcanons and plot bunnies that spawned from my brain is insane.

Could this be an entire series? Easily. Will I write it? Probably not. Maybe eventually.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #simon riley smut #cod smut #cowboy!ghost #no y/n #afab reader #gender neutral reader #Simon has a large cock and you can't convince me otherwise #The 141 and Los Vaqueros live on a ranch together and you can pry that from my cold dead hands #I wrote this instead of studying #Pray for me #Time to cram for finals

[m0use123]

[ Car pulls up to restaurant].

Asami :- I'm going to go park the car. Can you go find us a table?

Korra:- Yeah of course babe.

[Five minutes later].

Korra sprints out of the restaurant carrying a table.

Korra :- START THE CAR !!!!

~Fin~

#legend of korra #korrasami #how i met your mother style #i wrote this instead of studying #korra's a dork

[sunshinebingo]

Follow Gwyn, Azriel and their twins as they get ready for the day.

Word Count: 1.8k

Read on Ao3

7.10 am

Gwyn is pulled from her sleep by the bouncing movement of the mattress. She does not have to look to know that this is caused by two little ones jumping on her bed. She cracks open an eye to see Azriel already looking at her with sleep in his eyes and a smile. Considering their lack of sleep for the past three years, both of them deserves at least several weeks of rest. But that will probably have to wait until their twins are fully grown adults.

‘’Daddy wake up,’’ Catrin shouts in Azriel face when he closes his eyes again. As always, their twins decide to divide and conquer. Catrin starts tapping on Azriel’s face with her tiny hands while Eli grabs one of Gwyn’s arms. ‘’Mommy we have to gooo,’’ he complains as he pulls with all his force.

Like all Saturdays, all the kids of the Inner Circle spend the day together. Sometimes it is at Feyre’s painting studio, sometimes they come to Azriel and Gwyn’s Beach House, other times it is at the House of Wind. Today, they will all go to Elain and Lucien’s private house in the Day Court where Elain, Nesta and Gwyn will be babysitting while the rest of the Inner Circle are busy with their respective duties. Catrin and Eliot have been so excited about this trip that it was the only reason that has led them to go to bed early last night.

When Catrin starts poking her finger in her father’s eyes, Azriel grabs her and pulls her in his arms. Their winged daughter giggles when Azriel places kisses all over her face and belly. Seeing all the fun they are having, Eli releases Gwyn’s arms to throw himself on Azriel. Gwyn beams at the sight of her mate being attacked by their children. Unable to resist, Gwyn grabs her son and joins them in their battle of cuddles.

7.30 am

Azriel opens his mouth to take the strawberry that Eli is handing him with sticky fingers. On the opposite side of the table, Gwyn scoops yogurt off of Catrin’s pyjamas after the little girl has insisted that she can eat on her own.

‘’I want to see the pegasi,’’ Cat says, brushing her hair out of her face and spreading yogurt in it in the process.

‘’What about you,’’ Azriel asks his son as he lifts him up to place him on his lap. Once Eli gets comfortable, he goes back to digging his favourite fruits out of the bowl and feeding the rest to his father. And so breakfast is spent with Cat and Eli talking about what they will do once they are in the Day court.

7.55 am

Azriel takes his shower while Gwyn helps Eli and Cat pick an outfit for the day. If he did not have to leave for a mission, Azriel would have already started to tidy up the house. With two active children, their house often looks like a storm has come and knocked everything out of place. They had planned to clean up a little last night after their kids had gone to bed. But their late night cleaning up has instead turned into other late night activities. Ones that has led to more mess but in their own bedroom. Thank the mother and the cauldron that they have dressed up again after since they have forgotten to lock the door. On the mornings when Catrin and Eli would come to their parent’s room and find that it’s locked, they would knock and call for them on the other side of the door until someone eventually lets them in. Neither of their parents complain about it though.

In the children’s shared room, Eli settles for a black t-shirt and pair of light grey shorts. The only thing he has gotten from his mother is Gwyn’s red hair and his lack of wings. Apart from those, Eli is the portrait of his dad. They even have similar preferences in clothes. Cat, the more bubbly twin, goes for a green floral dress.

‘’I want gween because Lulu likes gween,’’ Catrin says in that funny way of hers. She has always had a soft spot for Lucien, or Lulu as Cat and Eli likes to call him.

‘’Okay then,’’ she looks at her twins after laying the clothes on their beds, ‘’Who will go first?’’

8.10 am

After Azriel is ready, Gwyn hands him Eliot while she takes care of Catrin in the bathroom. Azriel takes the opportunity to reduce as much of the mess around the house as possible. Azriel picks up all the books and toys lying around to put them back where they belong. Eli starts to help by carrying some of the toys but ends up being more interested in playing with the toys than putting them away.

8.25 am

When Gwyn comes out of the bathroom with Catrin engulfed in a fluffy brown dressing gown with bear ears, she finds her son and her mate sitting on the rug and in the process of building a block tower. As soon as she puts her daughter down, Catrin runs to them and knocks the tower down.

‘’Hey,’’ Eli shouts and pushes his sister away.

‘’Catrin,’’ Gwyn scolded her.

Azriel grabs the boy before he could throw a block at his sister. Before a fight erupts between the two, Gwyn walks to them and takes Eli from his father.

‘’Get her ready or we’ll be late,’’ she tells Azriel as she carries Eli to the bath.

8.35 am

After Catrin is dressed, Azriel sets to combing her hair. Unlike her twin, Catrin has her father’s dark hair. Though she resembles Gwyn the most with her paler skin and her teal eyes. Their family always like to tease that both Gwyn and Azriel have been gifted with a little copy of themselves, both in looks and personality.

8.40 am

Azriel adjusts the last bow in Catrin’s hair just in time for Eli to come running in the room giggling and completely naked.

“Got you,” Gwyn laughs when she finally reaches him. She wraps a towel around his little form and lifts him in the air. Gwyn hands their son to her mate before she rushes back to the bathroom so she can also get ready. Azriel immediately sets to get their little redhead dressed while his sister twirls around the room in her floral dress, dancing with one of her teddy bears as if it is her dance partner.

9.00 am

Gwyn gets out of her and Azriel’s private bathroom with a towel barely covering her body. She startles when she finds her mate looking for something on the nightstand.

“What are you looking for?” she asks as she starts to look for the proper clothes to wear. When she turns around, Azriel is staring at her with a look that she knows too well. Their bond thrums when Azriel’s lips pull up into a smirk.

Gwyn walks to him and pulls him down for a kiss. He pulls on her towel and lets it fall to the ground. A second later, Gwyn pushes Azriel out of door and closes it in his face. Azriel chuckles and walks back to his babies.

9.03 am

“Daddy look I’m flying,” Catrin tries to capture her father’s attention while he looks for Eliot’s shoe under the bed. When he looks up, Catrin is jumping on the bed and flapping her wings.

“Baby stop or you will hurt yourself,” Azriel groans as he starts to crawl under Eli’s bed. What he finds first is not the missing shoe but the little boy himself.

“Hi daddy,” Eliot beamed at his dad. Azriel can barely fit half of his body there. But Eli was so small that he has been able to completely slip under the bed.

“What are you doing here buddy?” Azriel asks incredulously.

“My shoe,” Eli says, waving the white shoe in Azriel’s face. They both get out from under the bed and Azriel finally puts Eli’s shoe on.

9.10 am

Gwyn enters the kitchen to find Azriel trying to console a crying Catrin. The reason for the tears is that Azriel has said no to Cat bringing the jar of peanut butter in her backpack.

“You can have peanut butter when we get home later love,” Azriel says, wiping the tears off of her face.

Gwyn walks to Eli who is trying to pack his bag by himself. She kisses him on the cheek and removes everything from the bag to put them back in a better order.

“Plus I’m sure you will have far better things to eat there than peanut butter,” Azriel tells Catrin as he places her on the table next to Eli.

Seeing that his twin is crying, Eli places a hand on hers to comfort her. Catrin turns her palm upwards and laces her fingers with her brother’s. Soon after, the crying turns into sniffing until it finally stops.

9.20 am

Gwyn shuffles through the kids wardrobe to find a new shirt for Eli after he has spilled apple juice on it. Eli, who is completely unbothered by all this, sits on his bed, licking the wet spot on his shirt. When Gwyn walks to him, her son refuses to lift his arm up for her to put the new shirt on him.

“I don’t want this one,” Eli shakes his head.

“Come on baby,” Gwyn almost pleads, “We are going to be late.”

“I want to look like daddy,” Eli pouts.

Gwyn rolls her eyes but smiles as she walks back to the wardrobe to swap the white shirt for one that will make Eliot look more like his father.

9.25 am

“Mommy,” Catrin shouts and jumps into her mother’s arms as if she has not been gone for only 5 minutes.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Azriel asks after he finishes adjusting Eli’s backpack.

Cat and Eli jump around in excitement. After a final check that everyone has all that they need, Eli and Cat rush for the door.

“Don’t run,” Gwyn warns, walking behind them.

“Let’s go,” Cat says excitedly once she is outside.

Azriel locks the door and checks the ward around the house just to be safe. When he goes to winnow everyone to Day, Azriel finds Gwyn and Eli walking towards the front door.

“Eli wants to pee,” Gwyn shrugs before unlocking the door and walking back inside.

Azriel picks his son’s backpack from where he has left it on the porch and joins Catrin.

9.30 am

“Are we all ready,” Azriel asks again and waits for everyone's nods.

Gwyn picks Eli up and Azriel carries Catrin.

“Sure?” Azriel asks one last time.

“Let’s go,” Cat replies eagerly.

Gwyn laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Let’s go before something else happens.”

Gwyn places a hand on her mate’s shoulder before he finally winnows them all to the Day Court.

Thank you for reading!! 😘

P.S... There's also An Afternoon at the Berdara Household

#Gwynriel #Fluff and more fluff #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #Gwynriel babies #I wrote this instead of studying #There might be mistakes #But I don't care #As long as it got me distracted #also disclaimer #... I don't know much about kids

[beetleisblue]

Ok prompt: Luz and Amity betting they can handle tickles from the others palisman, but Amity can’t handle beans tickles and gets wrecked?

Dumb teen challenges

——————————————————————

Sorry it’s been a second. Schools been crazy!

Summary: Luz and Amity make a stupid bet about being able to take eachother’s pailsmans tickles better. Amity is humbled.

Lee: Amity

Ler: Stringbean and Luz

Warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! It’s written for comfort purposes. I totally do understand if this is something you don’t want to read and you’re free to scroll away!

——————————————————————

“Whatever you do don’t think about it, Amity~ don’t think about how much it tickletickletickles~”

Luz giggled into her girlfriends ear, cuddled up next to her side as Stringbean rolled her tail down the witch’s forearm so very painfully slow.

One dumb bet declared 15 minutes ago had led the two in this situation.

One stupid bluff Amity had flaunted about being able to take tickles better than Luz.

One silly suggestion that whoever laughed first was doomed to an eternity (more so a few minutes) of tickles by both the winner and the winner’s pailsman.

Two pailsmans later and both girls were taking turns trying to endure soft ticklish teasing.

Luz had taken hers like a champ, Ghost’s nuzzling into her neck never getting a single giggle out of her.

Amity, on the other hand, was riding the struggle bus.

“T-That- Ehe! That’s nohot fair! You can’t tehease me like that!” She giggled back.

“Youuuu loooost!~” Luz giggled along with her, fingers descending onto her girlfriends stomach as Stringbean began to flick her tail across Amity’s neck.

Amity screamed out in laughter.

“nnNNNOOOHOHO! YOHOU CHEHEATED! CHEHEATER!”

Deep down, both girls knew they had only crafted a ploy to laugh together.

(Sorry it’s short! I’m sorta in pain.)

#sfw tickling community #the owl house tickle #the owl house #lumity #tickle fluff #lee!amity #amity blight #luz noceda #stringbean #ler Luz #i wrote this instead of studying #sorry if it isn’t my best work

[friendsdontlieokay]

Mike has been acting very weird lately, like how he used to react to El being missing. He snaps at the tiniest things, gets irritated about simple stuff, stays rude and upset most of the time... he's just different and not like himself anymore.

At first, it seemed like it was probably because of the combination of puberty and the bleeding of hell into Hawkins altogether, but maybe there's something more to it, like he wants to disguise himself or is hiding away from something...from himself.

But as always, everyone is too upset and dazzled up with their own lives to pay attention or talk out with the boy, and Mike doesn't mind actually, it's always been this way and it's honestly better if no one gets to see through the mask he's wearing.

Until a fair evening when the family starts to have an early dinner and Ted starts to bicker about how he's going poor and poor in his studies and everything regarding life as each day goes by.

Ted being Ted, keeps saying the most nerve hitting comments one by one, like how Mike's so young and already on the path to failure, how he has no good future ahead of him or how he should be more like Nancy, in a calm manner whilst feasting on his chicken, of course.

But unlike all the other times, Mike genuinely snaps and throws his plate out of the table, breaking it, and everyone gets off guard by the sudden incident.

"YES! I'M A FAILURE, I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN, BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT, I DIDN'T ASK YOU GUYS TO BRING ME IN THIS WORLD, YOU DID! AND NOW YOU'RE BICKERING CAUSE YOU CANNOT KEEP MANIPULATING YOUR "LITTLE BOY" TO OBEY YOU ANYMORE! I CAN'T DO THAT SO DON'T EVEN EXPECT ME TO!" and with that being said he storms out to his room.

Nancy, who's growing more and more astonished by her brother's behaviour, follows him with a rush and enters the room before he gets the chance to lock it.

"Mike, what the hell was that?"

"What the hell was what?"

"What is going on with you?"

"What do you mean by what is going on with me?"

"Mike what the hell just happened in the dining room? You just broke your f**king plate!" She snapped.

"Oh so now you're here to punish me because I broke mom's favourite plate? Fine I'll pay for it!" There he goes again, he's not the same kid anymore who would spend hours in the basement playing DND, or the naive yet smart kid Nancy once knew.

"Mike seriously what is wrong with you!?"

"EVERYTHING NANCY, EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH ME! NOTHING IS RIGHT ABOUT ME! THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW RIGHT? I'VE ADMITTED IT! SO NOW JUST GO TO YOUR ROOM AND TALK WITH JONATHAN OR STEVE OR WHATEVER! JUST LEAVE!"

"MIKE! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH YOU, SERIOUSLY! YOU'VE BEEN ACTING SO WEIRD THESE DAYS, WHAT'S GOING ON!?"

"Weird.." suddenly he's stressfully calm. "I told you already everything is wrong, dad was right, I'm a f**king failure, that's what's wrong with me".

Nancy's already drawn back by the confession "Mike.." she goes nearer and places a hand on his shoulder "you can talk to me you know".

He throws her hand away "talk to you!? You're the golden child Nancy, you would never understand!" He snaps again.

"Mike-" "No! Don't Mike me right now! You'll never understand, no one ever will, I don't deserve to be here, to exist, I don't belong anywhere, I'm an outcast, a monster!" it looks like he's trying to hold back his tears.

But instead of being sympathetic, Nancy's voice is stern "MIKE! NONE OF THAT IS TRUE, YOU KNOW THAT! YOU'RE NOT A MONSTER!" And when Mike dared to look back at her eyes, he realised that she's been trying to hold back her tears too. She feels so ashamed of herself, for letting Mike lock himself out, far away from the world, from the people he cares about and the people that care about him, for him to be so alone, so scared, to think he doesn't belong, to shrink in pain every passing second, but she has come here to fix it and she will

Nancy sits on the bed and makes him sit right beside her too. "Mike..what happened?" "Nothing" he replies, but she isn't letting go this time "Mike. What. Happened?" There's determination in her voice and Mike's not sure if he can escape it, but he tries, tries to lock himself in once more.

"I don't know, it doesn't matter". He lies. "YOU DON'T KNOW? IT DOESN'T MATTER, MIKE? WELL IT MATTERS TO ME! MY LITTLE BROTHER'S SAYING HE FEELS LIKE AN OUTCAST, A MONSTER, LIKE..LIKE HE DOESN'T BELONG AND YOU'RE SAYING IT DOESN'T MATTER?" she snaps again, and Mike spots a tear trickling down from one of her eyes.

He feels bad for not telling her the truth, but he can't, as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that Nancy's going to hate him if she gets to know WHO he is, or WHAT he's like, and he doesn't want his sister to hate him.

"You wouldn't understand"

"Then try to make me"

"You won't understand Nancy! There is something so wrong with me, I am broken! I've tried to fix myself, I've tried to fit in but I can't! I don't know how to!"

"Mike-"

"And if I tell you, you are going to hate me too, I just know that"

"MIKE!"

He jolts by her tone and looks up to her just to see that tears are spilling out of her eyes with seemingly no end, and for a slight moment Mike wants to comfort her but that would be totally out of context.

"DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN! DON'T YOU EVER EVEN DARE TO THINK THAT! I AM NEVER GOING TO HATE YOU! NEVER EVER! YOU'RE NOT A MONSTER BUT EVEN IF YOU WERE ONE, I WOULDN'T HATE YOU!"

For a millisecond, Mike thinks she'll understand but then again he's too afraid to risk it, he knows that if he tells her, she's simply gonna walk away and never talk to him again, maybe she wouldn't tell their parents, but it would still be horrifying to see her every day and get reminded of how the ice between them almost finally broke but he destroyed it because he's so damn disgusting. But he knows Nancy, and he knows that she's not gonna leave him alone, so he decides to spill it before he starts understanding how much his sister genuinely cares for him and loves him, in more depth. Like ripping off a bandaid.

His heart is almost bursting out of his chest and he's on the verge of a panic attack, still he's ready to go and make Nancy hate him.

"You don't understand Nancy I'm gay! I'm a f***king faggot" he's crying now, there's no reverse button in life, he has already doomed everything.

"SO!? I KNOW IT MIKE IT DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING! DID YOU REALLY THINK I'M GONNA HATE YOU FOR THIS? YOU'RE MY LITTLE BABY BROTHER, MIKE, AND YOU THOUGHT I WOULD HATE YOU FOR BEING GAY!?" He looks up to her and he internally breaks, not like he's damaged-broken, but he's sad-broken, because Nancy's not only spiling tears right now, but she's wholeheartedly crying, gasping-crying.

He's also crying just like her and he's so glad and surprised and relieved it's like a 404 error, he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to say but he knows he needs to say something, cause Nancy's crying and he feels like a bad guy for thinking she would hate him.

"Nancy I-" before he even gets the chance to finish, Nancy pulls him into a hug and even though she's practically crushing him by hugging him so tight, he doesn't mind at all, in fact he feels like he's finally able to breathe after ages so he just leans into her hugging her tighter and sobbing hard recklessly.

"Mike, I'm so sorry that you had to feel like you couldn't talk to me, to leave you alone in this bullshit hell hole to suffer all alone, to make you feel like a monster for never checking up on you and for always being so indulged in my own life that I barely come to know about what's happening in your life, for-for being such a selfish person, I know I don't even deserve to be your sister, you're such a good kid and kind hearted person Mike. Gosh, you're a paladin, a literal paladin, you're the heart of the party who cares about his loved ones so so much, who would do anything to protect the people he loves. And Mike, I know it's usually always the other way around, and I'm sorry that I couldn't give you a chance to say that but I truly look up to you, and I am so so so proud of you, bub, and honestly it feels so weird to call you my little brother cause you're so tall and big but it feels like you were a kid just yesterday, learning ABC's from that little phonics book you had, and it's hard to believe that it has been so long gone, I just wish I could've kept you little for just a little while longer, I wish I could play barbies with you for a little bit more time, I wish I talked to you and hugged you even more, I wish I hadn't turned away from you, I'm so sorry Mike for growing apart and distant, and I can't even blame it on my age, that is totally on me, and even if you don't or can't forgive me I just want you to know that I'm really very sorry. You're so grown now, you've literally been through hell and back, and still doing so that it's almost hard to believe that you're still that tiny marshmallow that couldn't pronounce my name and used to call me Nanny, but still deep inside I know that you are still him, you're still my baby brother and Mike, I know I don't say it as much as I should, and right now you might have a hard time believing me but I love you so much, I really really do." To be honest, Mike didn't know that, maybe when they were children he did know that, but they've gone through such huge metamorphosis in their own lives, he doesn't know it anymore, but he believes her, he truly entirely does, but he's sobbing so bad right now, he is in no state to speak so he only clutches to her tighter, sobbing even harder.

Mike is so overwhelmed by everything, how everything's going okay, and maybe even more than okay, by how everything's fixing, all this time, he felt like a mistake and right now someone's telling him he's not a mistake, that he's valued and that somebody looks up to HIM, and it's not just someone, it's Nancy, the golden child in his family, the best student in his school, an aspiring journalist, a badass who can almost win any battle, who kicked off Vecna's ass. Nancy Wheeler is saying she looks up to him and is proud of him, that really is such a big achievement on its own, but then again at this moment he knows that Nancy is no one apart from just his big sister, his superhero sister, his first best friend, his sister, his Nance, his Nanny.

But as much as he loves everything, he absolutely hates the way Nancy looks at herself, or how she thinks she's worthless because that's a lie, she's amazing everybody knows that, and he would never ever admit it yet he feels disgusted by the thought of Nancy thinking she couldn't give him a reason to look up to her, cause he's been looking up to her since God knows when. But for a fact, he knows she's not lying or making that part up to show him his better sides because that's exactly the way he feels about himself too, he just knows that they need to be there for each other and be each other's mirrors to show them their real true and wonderful selves.

"Mike I would never hate you, I could never do that even if I wanted to, and I would never want to. We're gonna fix everything that's hurting you okay? We're gonna fix it together I promise, and this time I promise to keep the promise, it's a promise."

Mike's already relieved and glad that she doesn't hate him for being gay, but one thing he's also super grateful for is how it's Nancy he's confiding too, or who has practically forced him to confide into them but be doesn't mind anymore, instead he feels like he's at peace and a huge burden has been removed from his chest, not only the burden of coming out, but the burden that had captivated him to reach out and talk to his sister, from hugging her because of the unsettled awkwardness that was reserved between them for a while, a long long while. He subconsciously envied Jonathan and Will or Lucas and Erica's relationship and bonding, but the same old awkwardness stopped him from achieving the same bond which he had with Nance before the world turned to massacre, or more like before she went to highschool, but right now her warmth was enough to calm him down and making up for all those lost time, he finally feels like he's home after a long long long period of time, he feels safe.

They sit their hugging and crying for what feels like ages until Nancy speaks again and they slowly start to pull away from each other "And just so you know, if anyone says anything, there's a reason why I've got a Russian mackarov in my room". He chuckles at that and pulls away finally.

"How did you know?"

"Know what? About you being gay?"

"...yea"

"Mike come on, I am your sister"

He raises an eyebrow

"What? You don't believe I'm your sister?" She lets out a dry chuckle.

He sighs in annoyance.

"Fine. I might or might not have read your unsent letter to Will"

"Hey! That's an invasion of personal space! That's a crime!"

"Ha! Says the one who used to steal from my piggy bank on a daily basis"

"Dude! That's not the same!"

"Dude that's not the same~" she mocks

He stares again in disbelief, though he doesn't hate it as much as he should considering everything .

"Now go grab me a glass of water, I'm thirsty from all the tears I just shred!"

"What!?"

"What what? Go bring me some water, I'm thirsty" She shoo shoos with her hand to try to drive him away but he doesn't budge.

She sighs in disappointment and ruffles his hair vigorously "Come on little big guy, get me a glass of water, go!"

He keeps his eyebrows knitted together but heads towards the door anyway.

"Hey umm Nance?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. I-I mean thank you, and...I love you too"

She smiles and audibly whispers "doofus"

He goes outside the room but pokes his head almost instantly.

"Um also, if money's missing again from your piggy bank, hehe"

Her eyes widen and she throws out a pillow at him.

"Ow!"

"Michael Jeremy Wheeler, I hate you so much!" and with that being said, she starts chasing him because no matter how much she loves him, she will never be able to not hate him cause that's what siblings are.

#Mike wheeler #mike and nancy #Nancy wheeler #nancy and mike #wheeler siblings #mike Wheeler angst #gay mike wheeler #byler #not really #intended audience #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i wrote this instead of studying #siblings #stranger things #fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort #one shot

[brotherbandchronicles]

"Just forget about it. You can't even get into that position, because you're standing against a much stronger opponent,"Jesper says, while playing with a gallician coin in his hand.

"With an axe," Stig adds with his mouth full of bread and warm broth.

Jesper shoots a judging glance at him, making Stig feel glad that he's sitting on the other side of the fire.

"Not important," Hal points out, "you are just biased. It could be you with an axe or Ingvar with a voulge. Doesn't matter."

"Thank you, Hal," Jesper sighs exasperatedly and turns back to the battle school apprentices. "Anyway, you either cannot get into the position at all or you have to get out of it in like half a second."

"Nope," Hal disagrees this time. "You can get out of it only if you can pull a Jesper, and you have to be ridiculously fast for that, so just do not ever get into that position."

Jesper grins.

"Gorlog's beard, stop moving, you idiot," barks Ulf, or Wulf, who's been braiding his brother's hair. "I am not re-braiding this thing again, so you might just want to not wear your head tomorrow."

Lydia groans, tilting her head back. Then she looks at the group of apprentices sitting beside her with an exasperated face. "See? This is what I have to put up with."

"Oh, you poor thing," says Lydia's voice from Stefan's direction.

The crew snickers and Lydia throws the nearest thing she has nearby - a bag of coffee - at him.

Stefan catches it easily, but it's quickly snatched from his hand by Edvin, whose eyebrow shoots up.

"Oh-oh," Lydia withdraws under his piercing glaze, and Stefan shifts closer to Jesper.

"We don't joke about coffee here," Ingvar explains to the apprentices in a quiet voice.

The conversation is interrupted by a bell, announcing the apprentices' curfew. Their whole bunch groans.

"Off you go," Stig encourages them. "We will still be here tomorrow."

"Do we have a curfew?" asks Wulf, throwing a glance at Hal.

"I don't know about a curfew, but you definitely have a reveille," announces Thorn, appearing from the shadow of the castle tower.

Hal looks up at him with a question in his eyes.

"Because we are going to show them exactly how to not get into that position."

"Or how to get out of it."

"Oh, fuck off, Jes."

"Language!"

#i wrote this instead of studying #brotherband #brotherband chronicles

[mortsfeministaganedas]

May I present, gay people

#dead poets society #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #knarlie #ao3 #fic rec #i wrote this instead of studying

[lightofjedi]

I guess I wouldn't mind the Jedi having so many haters if people would just... stop saying they like the Jedi when they only like their aesthetic or a specific Jedi.

Seriously, at least on twitter, many people will say they love the Jedi, retweet fanarts, make funny jokes and memes about them, and then proceed to make the most hateful comment on their culture and lifestyle I've ever seen. It's literally like "I love the Jedi I just wish they didn't do any of the things that make them Jedi", it's annoying and misleads me all the time because I'll follow someone that's all "oh i love jedi" and then a few days later they start spouting a bunch of fanon/legends bullshit that misunderstand, and many times vilify, the Jedi and when someone comes with actual canonical sources about them instead of fanon and headcanons, the person simply... ignores!

As if having so few of us isn't sad enough it's also difficult to stay away from Jedi haters because they don't say/know they aren't really Jedi fans, they just like their lightsabers and Luke Skywalker while being completely disdainful of their culture and essence.

#i needed to rant #this has bothered me since i got into this fandom #i'm not even blaming them #it's just difficult to know who actually likes them and who just like their lightsabers #which makes my experience on social media more annoying lol #jedi order #pro jedi #i wrote this instead of studying #procrastination has won again

[utaxnanami]

A Failed Trial

A/N: My god, editing this took for ever; remind me to never write with a headache ever again. Anyway, this is my first time writing ghostleon and I’m still figuring them out. But I got so many ideas for more.

Obligatory English isn’t my first language warning.

Cross posted on AO3

Wordcount: 3535

Summary: Trials against Danny were usually fun, but things take a quick turn

Tags: suicide (aka Jeff speedruns the hook), blood and injury, canon typical violence, established relationship

A thick fog encased the campfire, snuffing out its light and taking away the warmth it had provided. The voices of the other survivors grew distant, and then they were gone. Leaving Leon alone in the endless grey.

Slowly, the emptiness around him changed. The ground under Leon’s feet turned muddy and from above icy rain drenched him in seconds. Finally, the fog cleared, unveiling his new hell. The temple of purgation.

It became clear with one quick look around, that he was alone. At least for now. Sometimes the Entity placed the survivors together, other times she paired them up. But today there didn’t seem to be anyone else in his vicinity.

Not too far away on some kind of platform or other, stood a generator. Out in the open like it was, with no pallets or windows for a quick getaway, would make him an easy target for the killer. But baggers couldn’t be choosers.

Leon chose not to open the chest he found on his way to the generator and sparing the dull totem behind him only a quick glance, he sat down and started on rewiring the cables. From his position on the gen Leon had a clear view of the temple in the middle of the realm and the brick wall fencing them in. The only blind spot was right behind him where the totem sat nestled between the ruins of whatever this structure once was.

The more time passed and the more the generator progressed, the more anxious Leon became. Where was the killer? Who was the killer? Halfway done and still no heartbeat. Maybe he was lucky, and the killer was occupied with someone else on the other side of the map. Or maybe it was Myers and Leon was already getting stalked. If he was extremely lucky, it was Danny. It would be on brand for him to just watch out of the shadows and wait for Leon to notice him.

Suddenly something dark scurried by him, tearing Leon out of his concentration and prompting him to connect the wrong wires. He was quick to raise his arms in front of his face to shield himself from the small explosion. Looking behind him Leon half expected to find his boyfriend, instead there was Jeff hovering over the totem. An apologetic look passed between them before Leon went back to the generator while Jeff continued with the totem.

The explosion hadn’t only set the generator’s progress back but also alerted whoever the killer was to their position. Great. The sudden soothing aura of the now blessed totem did nothing to calm his nerves. Things went in fact from bad to worse, when suddenly Jeff’s pained scream pierced through the air behind him.

And there he was in all his glory, white mask sprinkled in blood and dark clothes hiding a surprisingly strong body; Ghostface. If it weren’t for Jeff bleeding out on the ground only a few feet away from him, Leon would be happy to see him. Instead, he sprang away from the generator and pretended to get away. He knew that Danny wouldn’t go after him for now, but they had to keep up pretences in front of the other survivors. Only the Entity knew how they would react to their secret relationship.

Not going far, Leon crouched down between the remnants of a long-gone structure, having perfect view of the hook Danny had carried Jeff to and the treeline the killer vanished behind. Out of his peripheral vision he could see Meg approaching, crouching down behind a structure just like him.

Looking back to Jeff Leon noted with dismay that the man was trying to unhook himself. He must know that at the very least Leon wasn’t too far away – why was he doing that?

Stifling a groan of frustration Leon jumped up and over the debris he’d been hiding behind, hoping that seeing him would get Jeff to stop what he was doing. Meg was right beside him, sprinting with him in the direction of the hook where Jeff was now struggling against the Entity’s claws. And of course, Danny would choose that exact moment to come back out of hiding; missing Meg with his knife by only a hairsbreadth.

All three of them came to an abrupted stop when Jeff suddenly got pierced trough by the Entity’s spidery claws. Had he just given up? Leon had been so close, only meters away. There should have still been time to get him off the hook. Why?

Looking to Meg, Leon thought that he must look just as devastated as her. Even Danny, with his knife still raised for a strike, looked perplexed. His head crooked slightly to the side as he looked at the destroyed hook. Leon couldn’t help but compare his stance to that of a confused puppy.

The momentary truce was broken when a generator turned on in the distance, jolting them back into the moment. With a shooing motion, Danny indicated for Meg to start running again, allowing her a generous head start before he reassumed the chase.

Sparing one last glance at the sky and mourning the loss of his teammate, Leon went back to the generator from the beginning. Re-entering the healing circle of the blessed totem made a cold shiver run down his spine. Had Jeff planned this? Had he put the totem up in preparation of getting sacrificed, so that they could heal themselves without the help of a medkit or someone else?

That didn’t sit right with Leon, he’d rather have the man right there beside him than that stupid totem. In the end, it didn’t matter what Jeff had been thinking. Whether he had purposefully let himself be sacrificed or it had been an accident – perhaps the rain had made the Entity’s claws slippery – because now he was gone and there were still four generators to do and only three of them left. Leon had encountered worse odds and made it out alive. And with Bill and Meg left as his remaining teammates, Leon was hopeful.

But everything was easier said than done. In no time at all first Meg and then Bill managed to get injured, and the rain made it nearly impossible to repair the generator without slipping or electrocuting himself.

Deciding to abandon the generator when Bill got hooked, Leon made quick haste to where the man’s pained scream had come from. Rounding rather than making his way through the temple, Leon fell into a sprint when he passed by the jungle gym Meg was currently keeping Danny occupied in. As long as she kept him there, Leon would be able to safely unhook Bill and move the man into the range of the blessed totem for a quick heal.

Getting the man off the hook was easy. Keeping him off the hook however wasn’t, not with Danny making it his lifegoal to target him specifically. Every attempt to lead Danny away from Bill was met with a stab in warning and not even Meg dancing just out of his reach could get him to change paths. In no time at all Bill was back on the hook and Leon was pissed. And by Danny’s clear avoidance or attempt to seriously hurt him, Leon had a clear picture in his head of what the guy had in mind.

Yeah, not today. Leon owned it to Jeff to not let the others get sacrificed. They would win this round and Danny could be mopey about it; he could complain about not getting to spend quality time with him as much as he wanted – Leon knew that whether he made it out of this alive or not, Danny would sneak into his cabin later regardless, just like he always did.

Danny went straight after Meg as soon as he had managed to put Bill on the hook for the second time. Leon waited till they were far enough away before getting the old man back down and basically dragged him into the direction of the totem to heal him. After, they sat down to finally finish the generator.

As soon as the lights turned on, they cautiously made their way into the temple and down the steps to the basement where the next generator waited for them. Being finally out of the rain didn’t stop the full body shivers thanks to his completely drenched uniform. Leon couldn’t wait to get out of this place and back to his cosy little cabin, and depending on how this trial would end, maybe he would allow Danny to snuggle under the covers with him.

Leon sat down on the gen while Bill scouted out the basement, coming back shortly after with a toolbox in hand. It always came as a surprise how much faster a generator progress with the help of others.

The doors of the basement opened, powered by the generator. And with only two more to go, the exit gates would follow soon.

Or at least that was the plan. Danny wouldn’t make it that easy to get out, though. Something he proofed with downing Meg in the next second.

That was okay, she hadn’t been hooked yet. Bill on the other hand would be dead the moment Danny got his hands on him again. It would be safest for Leon to get her alone and for Bill to move to the next generator.

Pointing his thump at his chest and then up, Leon expressed just that. Not even waiting for the man to agree or disagree with him before taking the steps two at a time and making his way up again.

Standing in the middle of the temple Leon tried to locate where the scream had come from. There was no second scream indicating that she had been hooked and for one hopeful moment, Leon thought she had been able to struggle free. That was till he saw her lying not too far away from the entrance of the temple.

Scanning the surrounding area, there was no sign of Danny’s dark form anywhere. This was a trap.

If he made his way to Meg then Danny would go for Bill, but if he didn’t, she would bleed out right there. Leon was torn, he couldn’t protect them both. As much as he hated that way of thinking – saving Meg would be the better choice. She hadn’t been hooked yet, which would increase both of their chances to escape.

Sending one apologetic glance in the direction of the basement he stepped back out into the rain. Not only weighed down by his wet clothes but also his conciseness. Every step he took away from the temple and closer to Meg put a nail in Bill’s coffin. Danny could have just as well put the knife right in his hand and told him to choose. If he couldn’t save Bill, at the very least Leon would do everything to get Meg out of this.

Falling into a sprint, Leon nearly slipped on the muddy ground as he came to a stop next to Meg. Dropping to his knees he wasted no time in helping her back up, with one arm around her middle and her arm around his neck, they made it hallway to the healing totem before Bill’s scream tore thought the air. Leon’s breath got stuck in his throat, nearly choking him. This was his fault.

They rounded the outside of the temple just in time to see Danny crouching over the man’s still body with his camera in hand. Quickly crowding Meg against the wall of the temple and clamping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, they watched on helplessly.

Danny wiped his knife clean with his glove and Leon’s eyes followed the movement. It was a motion that Leon always found strangely hypnotic. Every time the man used any kind of knife, should it be in the kitchen or out hunting, Leon couldn’t help but watch.

The moment was broken when Danny got up and moved out of his sight and into the forest. Waiting a moment to see if he would come back, Leon released his hold on Meg, only for her slump right back into him. She needed help, and soon.

They were just out of reach of the heal totem, but Danny had walked right into that direction. It would be too high of a risk. Letting her rest against him for a moment longer, Leon took that time to collect himself and take inventory. For the exit gates to open they needed two more generators. There was one gen in the killer shack; protected by windows and a pallet. Then the next best one would be the generator near the east gate.

Leon’s eyes landed on Bill’s lifeless body on the ground and then the toolbox next to him. If he could get that, they would have a head start on the next generator. But he had no idea where Danny had gone; he could be just out of sight hiding and waiting for them to make a move. But could they risk moving to generator without it?

In the next moment the faint aura of the totem got sniffed out, gone was their opportunity for a quick heal but it also gave away the killers position. The moment was now or never. Supporting most of Meg’s weight they started moving in the direction of the killer’s shag.

Once there Leon wasted no time pulling bandages out of one of his uniform pockets and wrapping them around Megs torso – to stop the bleeding completely she would need stiches, but at least this way they could slow it down.

Sitting down on the gen, Leon could hardly concentrate on repairing it. Eyes sweeping from one exit to the window to next exit. Ears straining to pick up any sound from beyond the shag, but the sound of the generator and the heavy rain made it impossible to distinguish between the normal woodland sounds and what could be footfalls on the muddy ground.

It was too late by the time Leon noticed the white mask between the trees. He could feel it, the sensation of being marked. The look Meg spared him over the generator let him now that she could feel it too.

The generator turned on and Danny moved. Meg and he both jumped up and to the opposite exit the killer would come through. Leon had barley any time to position himself behind her before he could feel the knife slice his back.

Everything happened in slow motion after; landing just outside of the shag in a muddy puddle, Danny stepping over him like he was nothing, Meg going down just meters away from him.

The anger that coursed through him wasn’t even meant for Danny. Not even when the man looked right back at him before holstering Meg over his shoulder, taunting him. Did you really think you could save her? The voice in his head was a mixture of his own and the killer carrying his last remaining teammate to her death.

Fists clenched Leon watched as Meg tried to struggle free, but the hook was so close and from experience Leon knew how strong Danny actually was. She wouldn’t make it out in time.

He did however feel his anger redirect when Danny didn’t come back for him once he had Meg on the hook. Instead, he stayed unmoving in front of her, watching as Meg tried to unhook herself in vain and he continued to watch as she had to struggle against the Entity.

Enough was enough, Leon wouldn’t wait for Meg to lose her fight against the claws. Crawling into the opposite direction of the hook, he hoped to find a place to hide away. Dragging himself through the mud and shrub till he found a good place between the ruins.

Leon was pissed enough that he would honestly rather bleed out than be giving an out by his boyfriend. He had failed to protect any of his teammates, Danny giving him hatch would be insult to injury. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve all the other times Danny let him go without struggle either, really.

All too soon that familiar rumble of the Entity claiming her victim echoed through the air, bouncing off the old ruins and taunting Leon with his failure to protect anyone. By now Danny must have come back to the shag to look for him. He only hoped that the rain was heavy enough to wash away his drag marks or at least make it harder to follow them.

There, not too far away from his little hiding spot, was the sound of rushed footsteps. Quickly placing a hand over his mouth to mute his heavy breathes and flattening his back against the structure he willed himself to disappear.

He didn’t even notice that he had stopped breathing, till he could no longer hear Danny and took in a greedy breath. Next, he noticed that the mudpuddle below him had turned an alarming red. Maybe the Entity would grand him his wish to bleed out. But luck hadn’t been on his side all trial.

A dong rang out and filled Leon with energy he didn’t now he still had. Enough to pick himself up and struggle to his feet. The blood loss made him woozy, dark spots dancing in his vision making it hard to concentrate on what was right in front of him. Taking his first step forward he almost crumbled to the ground again, catching himself on the structure behind him.

Just standing there and gathering his bearings, it took an embarrassing long moment for Leon to understand what had happened. Danny had closed the hatch. Which meant that he had either giving up looking for him or wanted to give Leon a chance to escape himself.

And Leon wasn’t sure what he preferred; a pissed of killer or getting an undeserved out. What he did know was that the endgame had started and that if he didn’t start moving into the direction of an exit soon, the Entity would take him herself.

Once he felt strong enough, he decided to move along the outskirts of the map instead of taking the quicker route through the middle, Leon hoped to evade Danny that way. There was no guaranty that the man wasn’t out for blood now.

Spotting a chest, Leon debated whether it be a smart to open it. There could be a medkit in there or maybe a flashlight. Both could be handy. But it would also cost him precious time.

Deciding to risk it, he crouched down and started fiddling with the lock. Seems like luck was on his side after all, Leon had never been so excited to see a flashlight in his life.

Just out of corner of his eye a dark figure flitted between the trees into the direction of the exit gate Leon had been moving to. Great. The other exit was on the opposite side of the map, till he made his way over there the time would have run out.

He would just have to try his luck with this one than. Moving along the wall that was barricading them in, Leon kept his eyes trained on his surroundings.

The ground was shaking by the time he made it to the exit, there was not much time left before the Entity would end this trial herself. Leon hadn’t seen Danny’s dark figure since that small glimpse of him earlier, he could still be around here somewhere. Leon had no other choice if he wanted to make it out, but to risk opening the gate anyways.

With one hand holding down the switch and the other grabbing the flashlight tight, he mentally counted down the seconds till the gate would open. The second red light blinked on when he felt the sensation of being watched. Eyes trailing the treeline till, they fell on a familiar white mask. Danny’s body briefly flickered silver with night shroud dropping now that he was detected.

“Are you mad at me, Bunny?” It was almost comically, the way Danny came out between the trees and stood there with his shoulders slumped. A picture of guilt. As if he felt any true remorse. He wouldn’t foul Leon in dropping his guard. “You know I’m only doing my job.”

“Do your job over there than.” Leon nearly growled, pointing his flashlight into the forest and away from him.

“Don’t be like tha-“Shining the flashlight right in Danny’s face to shut him up, Leon moved through the gate as the door finally opened. And he kept interrupting Danny’s every excuse with a new beam of light as soon as the guy set on to start again.

The air practically vibrated at this point; the time was up. Moving backwards into the fog Leon turned the flashlight off only to raise one final middle finger at his boyfriend as the fog thickened around him till he couldn’t see anything anymore.

Danny would have a hard time making it up to him later.

#ghostleon #dbd fanfic #dbd ghostface #dbd leon s kennedy #danny johnson #I wrote this instead of studying #kinda hate it not gonna lie #but I hate everything I write so have it anyways #my post

[evil-feather]

I have loved you for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more

Pairing: MissPeregrineXMissCuckoo

Warnings: none

Word count: 2321

People who might like this?: @sam1kath @vswife2 @vykanya

(I never know who to tag, sorryyy. Maybe I should do a tag-list?)

Notes at the end :)

---

"200-what?!"

"About 210 years, deux cent dix ans", laughed Miss Cuckoo.

Enoch looked at her in disbelief. "There's no way. I knew the bird was old but not that old. And how old are you even??"

"Enoch, rude! You can't ask a woman how old she is", Bronwyn exclaimed from the couch.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Whyy excuuuse moi", he said in a mocking tone and the best (worst) French accent he could do.

Isabel was just about to make a remark when Alma appeared in the door frame of the living room.

"And what is this here about? One might think that you guys are up to something.It is far past bedtime for all of you."

Miss Cuckoo shifted in her seat ever so slightly that one might not have noticed it but Emma whose gaze was jumping from one Ymbryne to the other did indeed notice it.

She bit back a comment and turned her head to Miss Peregrine instead.

"Miss Cuckoo was just telling us that you two have known each other for 210 years already", she explained ,"deux..dix…what was it again?"

A little smile formed on Miss Peregrine's lips while she replied,"Deux cent dix, even though I have to say that it's not quite correct."

Her gaze wandered to the older woman sitting in her rocking chair.

"We've known each other for 209 years, 364 days, 22 hours 1 minute and 30 seconds….if we would have met at midnight, that is but I'll let that count."

"Oh yes, you could show off your knowledge all day," sighed Miss Cuckoo while dramatically falling back into the chair.

Then she turned to the kids and said," but she's right it's bedtime for all of you!"

The kids groaned but eventually made their way upstairs to get ready for bed.

After tugging them all into their beds and saying goodnight to everyone, the two Ymbrynes had settled down into the living room again with a cup of tea and a book each.

Isabel for her part couldn't help but get distracted by the small woman sitting on the other side of the sofa.

Why couldn't she have fallen for someone else instead? Why did it have to be her dearest friend?

But then again how could she have not fallen for her?

From academy times on Alma had always been by her side, going through the most difficult times with her and never being anything but supportive.

The admiration for her had started from this wonderful friendship and before she could have even tried to stop it, she had already fallen head over heels for her.

But Isabel had kept her secret, way too scared that she'd ruin the friendship between them that was so important to her. And she'd gladly pay the price of keeping her little secret until the end of times if it only meant that she got to keep Alma near, to maintain their friendship and to see her happy.

Oh how she loved to see these emerald eyes shine with joy and the purest love when she watched their kids play in the garden. Or that smile that could lighten up every darkness Isabel ever had to fight. She was sure that she'd trade the entire world just to see Alma happy, just to see that pretty smile of hers again.

And even the smallest things that the small woman did, seemed to knock Isabel completely over and make her fall even more (even if she never thought that could be possible).

Like right now where she was sitting on the other side of the sofa, wrapped in a lavender coloured blanket, some of her hairs strands falling out of her usually tight bun. Occasionally she was narrowing her eyes or scrunching her nose as she read page for page of the book in her lap.

Her gaze dropped to the book in Alma's hands. Given the fact that they were in a loop, she had probably read it a thousand times already but it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.

Isabel watched as she turned the page and she couldn't help but wonder how it must felt like to-

"You know Izzy, it's quite impolite to stare."

Isabel's head snapped up but Alma's eyes were still fixed on the page of her book.

"I- I didn't stare," she said while cursing herself that she didn't sound more convinced.

Alma slightly raised her eyebrow and slowly lifted her head to look at the older woman with a skeptical look on her face.

She however only returned her look, a small smile playing at her lips.

"I was just lost in my thoughts, that's all," Isabel added after a short pause.

She watched how the emerald eyes narrowed slightly and was that a hint of worry in her eyes?

With a short sigh the other woman asked:

"What is wrong, Isabel?"

"Wrong? What should be wrong? Everything's bien…fine."

Clearly Alma didn't believe her so she tried again.

"Well, something is clearly going on in that pretty head of yours."

Isabel's breath stuttered for only a second before she caught herself.

"How can it be that we already know each other for so long?"

The question had slipped out before she could even think about it.

The ravenette's face softened and the worry in her eyes were replaced by warmth and adoration, as a small smile appeared on her lips.

There it was again. That smile Isabel would die for. It was dragging her so close to just screw every rule and just tell her-

"Well I believe that time tends to pass faster if we spend it with the people we love."

Her eyes met the brown ones but she couldn't quite read what was really bothering the French woman.

"It wasn't the answer you wanted, huh?"

Miss Cuckoo's eyes widened and she shook her head slightly.

"No, on the contrary. I think you phrased it very beautifully," Isabel finally said, her smile returning to her face.

With a sigh Alma closed her book, laid it on the coffee table and scooped closer to Isabel laying the thick blanket around the older woman's shoulders.

"It's alright, I won't push you into talking, if you don't want to," she whispered, leaning her head against the other woman's shoulder.

It was one thing that Isabel appreciated more than anything about their friendship. They would always give each other time and space.

She knew that Alma wasn't the best at voicing her worries as well but that didn't matter. No one was pushing the other to talk about anything, if they didn't feel like it so sometimes they'd just enjoy eachothers company for that very moment.

They'd find each other eventually, to talk about whatever was worrying them.

She leaned her head against Alma's.

"Thank you."

Miss Peregrine hummed softly, her gaze wandering to the clock on the wall. Isabel followed her eyes not even a second later.

The clock said 01:17 am.

“Oh.”

There was a light chuckle from Alma as she said:

”Seems like I was right about my theory. Time does pass faster if we are with the people that we love.”

Isabel raised an eyebrow, a big grin on her face.

“So you love me?”,she laughed before she could stop the words.

There was a short moment of silence and Isabel wondered if she might have overstepped the line. Then Alma began to laugh and Isabel could feel her chest lighten again.

“You are a darling, of course I love you!” Alma said finally, turning her head so she could look into Isabel's brown eyes.

Then she quietly added:

“I actually thought you’d know that.”

Isabel sucked in a breath as she stared into Alma's eyes, suddenly being terribly aware of how close their faces were.

Her heart was beating uncontrollably and she couldn’t help it when her gaze fell on Alma’s lips. It was only for a few seconds but of course the other woman did notice as she licked her lips nervously.

Miss Cuckoo drew in a deep breath while trying to collect her thoughts.

Then she whispered quietly:

“Please don’t hate me for this but…can I kiss you?”

She regretted it as soon as she had asked.

Over 200 years she had kept her little secret so well and now she had thrown it all away. She had ruined their friendship with just that simple step.

She felt the panic build up inside her when she suddenly felt a hand on her chin. Slowly Alma turned her head so she had to face the small woman again.

Isabel's heart was beating so loudly that she nearly missed the answer.

“Please do.”

Isabel’s eyes widened as she stared at the woman in front of her, convinced she just hadn’t heard her correctly or maybe she had just imagined her saying this. But Alma simply wrapped her tender arms around the taller woman's neck and gave her an encouraging smile.

And with that Isabel’s brain shut down and her instincts overtook her.

She leaned forward carefully, still giving Alma enough time to back up if she changed her mind…but she didn’t.

Their lips met in a light kiss and Isabel could swear that her heart might burst the next second.

This had to be a dream, there wasn’t another explanation for this. Yes, that had to be it. She will wake up soon, and everything will be like it was before. And this, this will only be a wish-

Her mind started to panic again, that much that she hadn’t even noticed that she had gone stiff as a plank.

Alma pulled away, her face bright red.

She lowered her head as she quietly whispered:

“I’m sorry, I’m a terrible kisser.”

That did the trick. Isabel's brain snapped back into action and her eyes widened in shock.

“No, bird no, you are not! It’s just- I just-”, she began, her hands carefully cupping Alma’s cheeks.

She took in a shaky breath and then continued:

“I’m-, I was just thinking….panicking actually. You have no idea how long I have wished for this to happen and I just panicked because I was scared that I would ruin our friendship and I guess I just made it worse with that-. I—, I’m sorry if I made you feel like you are a terrible kisser because you are not!”

She could see Alma’s expression soften as her arms found their way back around Isabel's neck and she leaned forward so their foreheads touched.

“It’s okay”, Alma said softly, tangling one of her hands in short silver hair.

“Do you want to try again? And then we can just pretend that the first one never happend?”

A smile formed on Isabel's face as she looked into these beautiful green eyes and nodded.

Alma only nodded and sat back again, waiting for Isabel to make the first move.

This time the kiss was more passionate but still soft. Alma’s eyes had fallen shut as soon as Isabel’s lips had touched hers and Isabel gave into the feeling as well, closed her eyes and just let herself drown in the feeling of soft lips on hers.

She carefully wrapped her arms around Alma's waist to pull her closer. The blanket that had still laid on their shoulders, slowly fell down onto the floor but none of them cared. The only thing that got them to finally break apart was the lack of oxygen.

Isabel pulled back slowly, chuckling at Alma chasing her lips for a second. She opened her eyes again only to find Alma’s still closed. She leaned her head against the other woman's head again and breathed slowly.

“Never ever dare to say again that you are a terrible kisser,” she chuckled after a quick moment of silence of both Ymbrynes trying to catch their breath.

At that Alma’s eyes opened slowly and she smiled as she lovingly looked into the brown eyes, next to her.

“I guess I’m a quick learner.”

Isabel’s eyes widened as she laughed in disbelief.

“You-you’ve never kissed anyone before?”

Alma blushed prettily as she shook her head.

“Not really, no.”

For a moment Isabel just looked at her as if she was debating whether she was joking or not. Then she quickly shook her head.

“Then it seems like you are a natural”, she whispered, giving her a quick peek at the cheek,

”and I’m honored that you trust me enough for that.”

Alma beamed as her gaze fell on the small clock behind Isabel. It showed 03:00 am.

She turned her attention back to the taller woman, whose arms were still holding her close. She never thought that she’d admit it but she enjoyed the closeness and warmth of the other woman, maybe even a little more than she should.

“As much as I am enjoying this, dear, we should probably go to sleep as well,” she said after a moment of collecting herself again.

Isabel sighed dramatically but gave in after she saw the time.

They decided to clean up later and only put the tea cups (with the tea that had long gone cold) in the kitchen sink.

Then Isabel took Alma's hand and led her upstairs.

“We definitely should repeat this,” Isabel chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake any of the children.

Alma bit down her laugh and only smiled brightly.

"Definitely."

Then she stepped on her tiptoes to give Isabel a quick peek on the lips.

“Good night, Izzy.”

They both went to their bedrooms but not before turning around again when they had reached the door.

Isabel had to bite down a giggle as she waved lightly.

“Bonne nuit”

"Good night…oh and Izzy? Happy 210th anniversary.”

---

Notes:

It was time that someone wrote a confession story so now you have clumsy gay panicking Isabel🤭

Also I just threw a whole bunch of my head canons in this like Alma's first kiss. Cause I don't think she has ever loved someone that much that she'd even think about kissing them before (her kids don't count okay? Cause that's something different)

Anyways I was debating for the longest time ever if I should end the story on them falling asleep on the couch or make them kiss and here we are. It took my last nerve because I SUCK at writing kiss scenes. And I also feel like I made it very awkward and out of character but huh.

#slow burn because they are IDIOTS #idiots in love #i wrote this instead of studying #i literally sacrificed my grade for you guys #also my aromantic ass was STRUGGLING with the last secenes #so i hope i did okay #anyways #lesbian #pansexual #mphfpc #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrine #alma peregrine #ymbryne #miss p #bird wifeys #ymbrynes #wlw #alma lefay peregrine #miss cuckoo #isabel cuckoo #perekoo #perekoo fanfiction #fluff #first kiss #confession

[phtalogreenpoison]

I've written another bungo fic about my oc & Dazai!! Check it out if you're interested :D

Please be kind though!

#bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd oc #bsd ocs #original characters #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd fanfic #bsd fic #fic #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #my fic #bsd fanfiction #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i wrote this instead of studying

[redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh]

Contact

Atticus Rhodes and/X Zane Truesdale

CW: medical stuff, angst, it seems like a character is going to die but they don’t

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was little more than background noise to Atticus at this point. He’d been there since it had been plugged in and attached to the man in front of him. A steady rhythm, only interrupted by Atticus occasionally drumming his fingers on the surface of the bedside table.

He was so used to the monochromatic rhythm of the room that he nearly jumped out of his chair when the door opened. A nurse stepped in, not even sparing him a glance as she swiftly moved to the monitor and then the IV bag. Atticus was certain that she didn’t know he was there, until she spoke.

“Has he been asleep this whole time?”

Atticus twitched again, unsure of who the nurse was talking to. When her eyes met his, he swallowed the dryness in his mouth and mustered a, “Yes.”

“Thank you.” The nurse bustled out, tapping on her tablet.

They were alone again.

Atticus turned back to the bed, taking in the pale face of his best friend. “She’s alright. Better than what the school had.”

Zane did not answer, his mind unreachable.

“Alexis had some cute nurses when she broke her arm. She took a liking to one of them because that one snuck her extra ice chips.”

Zane, of course, already knew about this, having acted as a surrogate Atticus for two years, but the heart monitor was starting to bother Atticus.

“I wish they’d turn that thing off. Then you’d only be able to hear my stunning voice.” He laughed in spite of himself.

The room felt quieter than it had before, even with the talking and the nurse and the beeping. Atticus went back to drumming his fingers on the table, trying to drown out the silence.

Another knock at the door relieved him from his thoughts, and Syrus stepped in. His eyes were red, and the collar of his shirt was wet. Atticus wondered if he’d been alone for the past few hours.

Syrus went to his brother’s side, sitting on the bed (far closer than Atticus dared go). After a pause, he asked, “Why did he put you down as his emergency contact?”

Atticus had expected this from the little brother of Zane “Petty” Truesdale. “I don’t know.” Then, as if the words had been punched out of him, he said, “Maybe he knew I’d actually show up.”

Syrus sniffed. “That’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not.” Atticus looked at his hand, now laying still on the table. “But I got here first.”

“Did they say…” Syrus drew in a shaky breath. “Did they tell you anything?”

Atticus shook his head. “Only that he collapsed in the back of a taxi. Slumped over.”

Syrus turned away from Atticus and the sleeping man, but not before Atticus could see tears spill over. “I… I wanted to move his stuff into my apartment. I was afraid…”

Atticus stood for the first time in hours, walking over to Syrus and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You wanted to protect him.”

“I can’t do it.” Syrus stood, brushing Atticus’s hand off. “He’ll understand, I can’t… I can’t be here. I’ll be in the waiting room…” He looked up at Atticus, his eyes wide and brimming with tears. “Please tell me if he wakes up.”

“I promise.”

Syrus hurried out of the room, quickly closing the door. Atticus followed for a moment, close enough to hear a horrible sob through the wall.

He turned back to the bed, to Zane lying there in a mess of wires. “See what you did?”

Moving through mud, Atticus returned to his chair and crumpled, head falling into his hands.

After a while, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Why did you do it?” he asked. “Why me? We haven’t spoken in… I don’t even know. A year? Syrus is your brother.”

No answer.

“I’m not the kind of guy people put down as their emergency contact. Hell, Alexis has Syrus down. I know she has Syrus down because she told me she did. But you never told any of us, just waiting for the day no one would be around to take you to the goddamn hospital and—”

He couldn’t speak anymore, breathing too labored, so he allowed the sobs to start. “You son of a bitch.”

Atticus sank to the floor, kneeling next to the bed, eye level with Zane’s stupid face. “Well, I’m here now. Are you happy?”

He buried his head in his arms, so deep that he barely heard a croaking, “Yes. Happy.”

When he heard that, though, his head shot up and his face broke into a grin when he saw Zane’s eyes for the first time in a long while.

“It usually takes… a medical emergency for…. you to pay some fucking attention to me,” Zane wheezed, painfully dragging his hand up and placing it on Atticus’s face.

Atticus clasped it, afraid it would fall away at any moment. “You son of a bitch.”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

“I love you.”

Zane squeezed a little, nearly pinching Atticus’s cheek. “I picked you because I didn’t think you’d come back unless you thought I was dying.” He rubbed his thumb over Atticus’s cheek, a small smile creeping its way onto his face. “I really fucked up, and I thought you’d never forgive me.”

“I forgave you a long time ago, I’m just… stubborn and stupid.”

“Come up here. Please.”

Atticus crawled up into the bed, pulling Zane close and cradling his thin body. “I won’t leave again.”

“Damn right.” Zane coughed, right into Atticus’s shirt.

In spite of himself, Atticus smiled. As the older Truesdale clung to him, he remembered his promise to the younger one.

Though he knew it was selfish, Syrus could wait.

#this is NOT a healthy moment tm guys #i do not condone atticus’s actions #anyway #yugioh gx #ygo gx #atticus rhodes #fubuki tenjoin #zane truesdale #ryo marufuji #this can be interpreted as platonic or romantic #whatever you want #I was listening to a noah kahan song and this idea hit me in the face #not proofread #sorry bout the angst i’m just feeling sad today #and my self help book said to journal and I said fuck that sad fanfic here I come #i wrote this instead of studying #k bye i’m off to read medea

[m0use123]

Korra yawned and stretched in her bed.

It was a beautiful day outside.

She sighed happily and turned over to look lazily at her alarm clock.

8:45am

"OH SHIT"! She yelled and promptly fell out of bed.

She stumbled across her bedroom, her ankle still trapped in her bed sheets.

"God damn it. How could I forget to set the stinking alarm".

It was the first day of school and she was going to late.

She snatched her clothes up. Her t-shirt was inside out, her jeans had spray paint stains on them, and her trainers were on the wrong god damn feet.

"Today's gonna be a disaster" she grumbled as she switched her trainers, grabbed her backpack and tripped down the hallway.

"Mum, Dad I've over slept, can you drive me, please, I'm so dead, you know how much Miss Lin hates me".

The two lumps that were my parents just grumbled in disgust.

"Korra. Its Sunday. School doesn't start until tomorrow" Senna sighed.

"Go back to bed kid. I don't want to see you till at least mid day" Tonraq mumbled into his pillow.

"Tonraq" Senna hit him.

"It's Sunday"? Korra breathed out. The teen greatfully shuffled back to her bed and face planted into her pillow. "I love Sundays".

~Fin~

#legend of korra #Korra #pre first day #teen stress #i wrote this instead of studying