#like someones stereotype of a cold weird little kid :)

[transfemarmin]

Can you do a miles 42 fic where miles doesn’t like you talking back too him or like looking at him funny and he doesn’t tolerate it at all also female reader! Please

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★彡 SHOW OUT

summary: miles is a simp in private but when he gets in-front of his friends.. he’s a different person

a/n: hope this is okay!! because I can’t see miles genuinely being like that if it’s not to show out in front of his buddies.. I went a lot off request sorry..

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MILES MORALES ISN’T SOMEONE TOXIC…

let’s make sure we get that straight across right now, he isn’t a toxic man.. just someone who’s been so cold and nonchalant for so long.. he doesn’t know how to make his tone match his feelings, hell he doesn’t even know how to voice the feelings he has much anymore.. but there is one thing that is well known to those he let’s see all the layers that make up.. miles gonzalo morales.

there are more than people think. but we aren’t here to get into the layers of miles morales, but more so.. how he acts when his girl isn’t around. you see, miles is what they call a ‘ fake gangster’ while he grew up in brooklyn and a lot of crazy stuff happens on the streets; when he saw that, he’d run the other direction. he was never a kid who was all about that gangster lifestyle

while he sagged his pants occasionally, and put up gang signs he didn’t even know the true meaning behind, with his friends, mind you. some of his friends actually rolled in ‘ gangs’ that honestly just consisted of teenagers trying to act harder than they actually were, was miles in this so called ‘ gang’ ? no. not by choice, he was a dumb teenaged boy, while he was smart.. a extremely intelligent actually; he still had this thing in the back of his head, something that told him, that this was all he was gonna amount too, because society hated men like him. they hated men of color, holding the stereotype of being in a gang over black & latino men’s heads.

he hated it, he hated it more than he could ever imagine and that’s when the stupidity came in, he always said no to drugs.. to drinking when it came to peer pressure, especially if people he didn’t know were trying to pressure him into it, but when it came to doing what these other fake gangsters, who also grew up in a loving family.. while miles lost his father, that’s true, it changed him..

that doesn’t excuse the way he’s ruining his future, the way he’s rolling with the wrong crowd, his mother & uncle have tried to talk him out of this.. he’s too attached to these so called ‘ homeboys’ some who.. miles didn’t even know their actual name.

worst part of all, miles was ashamed to show off his girlfriend in ways his mother had raised him to show off a woman. while he still did it, he made sure to post her on accounts that were private, that had no indication they belonged to him.

while he called her ‘ his woman’ to his family, and to her face. behind those scenes she was ‘ his bitch’. so, just imagine the poor girl’s surprise when her loving man turned into a hood rat who disrespected her within a matter of minutes..

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“ hey miles!” one of the young boy’s friends called out to him, miles head turned; a look of panic on his face as he had his arm around his girlfriend, [name]. he never wanted to let those two worlds collide.. he never wanted them to.. he swallowed the nervousness and pulled back from his girl, dapping up his friend, “ aye man.. whaddup?”

[name] gave him a weird look, he never talked like that in front of her and his mother.. in front of his uncle? she didn’t know.. the answer was probably.. she was never around for long when uncle aaron came by.

the friend’s attention turned to her..

the wondering eyes was something that [name] didn’t like, it made her fold her arms over her chest. “ who’s this little lady?” the friend spoke up, his tone was dripping in what [name] thought was either flirtation, playful, or some other kind of tone.. she didn’t wanna decipher it, she had a ma-

“ chill…that’s my bitch..” the way that b word left miles’ lips, it left his tongue so naturally.. like she had been addressed like that before, it was enough to pull her out of her thoughts.

oh hell no..

she furrowed her eyebrows at him, “ who’s a bitch?” she looked around, trying to figure out who he was talking to, because it was honest to god was not her.. “ babe-“ miles started, but her face scrunched up, “ nah.. nigga tell me, honest to god.. who’s the bitch?” the pit of anger was bubbling up in her stomach, she was usually able to wait until she was in a private place so she could calm down and maturely handle the manner.. but now, she didn’t know why.. she just couldn’t.

maybe it was the fact this was her man..

who she expected to respect her, in front of everyone, the man who posted her every second he got.. the man who had her face as his profile picture on Instagram, twitter, tiktok, and even fucking facebook.

but.. the boy who had just disrespected her in her face.. and in front of his friend! embarrassed her in front of her own two eyes!

“ yooo… get your girl, miles.” the friend.. who she still didn’t even know the name of spoke.

“ uh uh..” [name] was fuming with anger, if she was in a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of her ears, “ don’t talk to me like that you fake gangster ass nigga, you don’t be in these streets! your curfew is six pm.” she made sure to check her man about his disrespect, “ you don’t talk to any woman like that, especially not your girlfriend.. which I am.” she put her foot down, a frown on her face.

“ h-hey.. don’t talk to me like-“ miles started before he looked at his friend, and then his pissed-off girlfriend, he pressed his lips together and shook his head.. a friend he didn’t even know the name of wasn’t worth his relationship, “ I’ll catch you around..” he spoke to his friend, who looked more confused than anything. “ uhm.. yeah..” the friend spoke, before walking away.

miles was more.. embarrassed than anything, he knew he deserved the feeling; he knew that much.. he just disrespected [name] in her face.. something he knew triggered her. “ [name], honey I’m sorry,” he spoke as he turned to her

“ nah.. don’t be sorry now.. go back to being a a young blood, a slime or whatever you niggas be doing out here! “ she spoke, the anger clear in her tone.. it was clear in her body language and the way she looked at him.

“ baby.. mami, im sorry.. what if I get you a refill on that dior perfume you like?”

“ where you gon get the money for that?”

that’s when he stayed quiet, he did get a few bucks here and there from the jobs working with uncle aaron, but he couldn’t tell her that!

“ yeah, exactly.” she pointed her finger in his face before she walked off.

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“ awww…” [name] spoke, miles had just came through her window, holding a bath & body works bag, along with a sephora one.. he didn’t tell her what he did to obtain enough money for this.. but it did include going on more jobs with uncle aaron than he wanted too, he usually mostly did this to help the hospital his mom worked at, to help scrub the streets of New York.

what was he even doing trying to be in a gang, anyway? that wasn’t who he was.. why was he trying to enforce the stereotype he hated so much?

“ ma, im sorry.. i mean it..” he had given her space, he hadn’t talked to her for nearly two weeks at this point, “ I shouldn’t have done that dumb ass shit, ion know-“

“ I don’t..” she corrected.

miles stared at her for a moment, and sighed. [name] was always tryna correct somebody.. she did that shit to be funny.

“ i don’t.. even know why I was rolling with TJ and ‘em. I’m sorry mama.. I will never disrespect you like that again.. or at all.” his eyes showed the sincerity behind his words, she always stared into them just to make sure he meant his apology.. every single time he did.

[name] sucked her teeth, before checking the bags, seeing what they contained.. the bath & body works ones were full of her favorite fragrances and lotions, while the sephora one only had her favorite dior perfume.. was she complaining? hell no.. she loved to smell good.

“ okay… but if you ever call me some sort of bitch again.. ima fuck you up”

miles chuckled at her threat, “ yeah.. [name] I hear you.. loud and clear.” he spoke softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek, a smile making its way to [name]’s face. a giggle leaving her lips. “ you better.” were the last words she spoke before she pressed her lips against his.

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taglist: @katsaresokool @cyb3rspyd3r

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spider verse #miles morales x y/n #spiderman x reader #pavitr x reader #gwen stacy x reader #earth 42 miles x black reader #x black fem reader #miles x black reader #black reader #fem reader #miles morales x black!reader

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

i did it for winx i did it for powerpuff girls anyway here’s my pitch for a good “modern” scooby doo remake

shaggy comes from a family of paranormal investigators. at barely 16 years olds he returns to his hometown of coolsville with his dog after his super rich parents tell him it’s time to live up to the family name, taking him there specifically because of many rumors about cursed areas of the town and crmiinals who take advantage of said rumors to pretend to be monsters themselves. while there he reconnects with his old childhood friends and eventually all together they form the mystery inc... and have to deal with a benevolent yet very clumsy spirit who took over scoob’s body

character thoughts under read more!!!

shaggy is, again, the last of a family of paranormal investigators, who ever since he was a child had to deal with his parents bringing him in adventures and dealing with (real and fake) monsters. you’d guess that would make him brave, but. no that just made him very paranoid. while he acts like the team’s straightman, he’s also the only one who knows how certain monsters work, ironically working as one of the “brains” of the group!

scooby, again, used to be a normal great dane. a little lazy, not even particularly friendly, at least until shaggy brought him with him in coolsville; during their first night out. while he ends up falling into a trap, a benevolent ghost takes over his body, making him able to talk and tell the kids that coolsville is in big trouble and that they need to stick together. overall, he’s the team’s mascot, someone who’s directly connected with the main antagonist similarly to the mystery inc series, but also a goofy spirit (and now dog) who’s appreciating life!!

velma is a seemingly distant and cold nerd, but also the first one who joins shaggy in his adventures after she learns that all the curses and mysteries of her town might be real. her knowledge and ability to think on the fly comes from her being a dnd player and, most importantly, a dungeon master, and out of everyone she’s by far the bravest member of the team.  while a little snarky and with a lot of problems with social cues, she’s a smart and quick thinking young lady who’s happy to be part of a real adventure. and also has a girlfriend who may or may not be yet another monster since her being into criminals and monstergirls is a recurring trend now

daphne is part of the popular girls in school, but since we hate stereotypes she also has a reason to be popular other than “she’s pretty XD”. tiktok influencer and vlogger, she joins shaggy and velma almost by accident uhhhh i’d say 3 or 4 episodes into the series, maybe trying to start off a paranormal youtube channel, and eventually gets very close to them. the assigned people person, she knows everything about everyone in town and is generally very charismatic, but make her angry and she’ll make sure that you will remember with who you’re messing with.

fred, daphne’s boyfriend, is a member of the football’s team and the mayor’s son... and for “half” of the first season, he unknowingly acts as a minor antagonist, since i’d say. down with the politicians, the mayor is one of the bad guys, and with fred being a total himbo he accidentally works as his spy. eventually he finally understands that something is up with his dad, especially thanks to daphne who reminds him who truly cares for him, and eventually shaggy and velma too, with who he shares good memories of pretending to be detectives together and watching “that one weird show with the talking dogs and the kids looking for ghosts... goober or something!” he finally becomes the team’s wild card, the brawn and. yea i’d bring back his love for traps and elaborate schemes. he and velma become super besties after she tells him about her latest dungeon in her session

#scooby doo #velma #velma dinkley #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #scoobs #fred jones #my drawing #colored stuff

[spacexseven]

ok thinking about subordinate darling chuuya… I think we discussed mean chuuya together, but I can see the appeal of nice chuuya as well! I personally have a preference for mean chuuya because. reasons… but thats just me.

for nice chuuya, it would be a good cop bad cop scenario. dazai bullies you cuz he thinks its funny, chuuya swoops in to earn your trust. rinse and repeat. it might be out of true altruism on chuuyas part at first, but quickly devolves into more sinister intentions. I actually think this approach would probably kick dazai into gear a bit as the idea of darling liking chuuya more than him makes a cold dread settle into his bones. its a race for number one as dazai suddenly starts vying for your attention much like a child, with the hidden agenda of trying to rile chuuya up enough to get him to reveal the monster underneath the facade.

for mean chuuya… have you ever seen an old cartoon where two kids are fighting over a doll? and then start crying when they inevitably end up ripping it? yeah. both of them like you, neither one of them wants to actually admit this due to the fact they've convinced themselves they find you worthless and annoying up to this point, but they also don't want to give you up to the other. the tentative bond they formed from making fun of you together completely breaks in half as they become obsessed with winning, even if the prize is somewhat unclear. I think we get the concept of how DAZAI is mean by now, but chuuya is another beast. whereas dazai's cruelty, while unpredictable in method, is reliably consistent in intensity, motive, and frequency (up until his crush starts to muddle things); chuuya seemingly decides at random just how mean he intends to be and why. like, one day completely fucking up your given task only gets you jeered at and mocked, and the next making eye contact without permission gets you punched in the face. and some days he just acts like you don't exist no matter WHAT you do. hard to get a handle on, that one. he doesnt get "worse" when he realizes he likes you, just weird. like now he's a stereotypical romance anime tsundere about it. dork loser.

and uh, speaking of the doll ripping… if (when) dazai and mean!chuuya end up going too far… maybe they send you off on a mission that gets your kidnapped or almost killed… maybe one (or both) of them overestimate your resilience and give you an injury that cant be walked off… or maybe its just as little as noticing you're suddenly less combative and more timid towards them nowadays… you REALLY don't wanna know just how far they're willing to go to "make it up" to you. they might even work together on it, or maybe they'll try to sell the other one up the river and become your favorite. either way you're in for a ride. the idea of losing you will immediately make both of them drop all pretense, and what's underneath the "cruel, dismissive senior" act is NOT for the faint of heart.

- 🩹

honestly i think its likely they end up pairing up just bc these two seem to get a lot more done when working together lolol Hope this isnt too long :<

if chuuya decides to play the role of the good guy, it's mostly because he wants to piss off dazai, and maybe a little bit of sympathy knowing that you really stand no chance against your superior. the more dazai gets on his nerves, the more he stops by to check in on you, knowing it gets dazai all riled up and angry—but since he doesn't want you to know it bothers him, dazai's more likely to bottle up his frustration, and to chuuya it's hilarious. eventually though, you sort of...grow on him. there's something about your pitiful state after yet another one of dazai's stupid pranks or derogatory comments, something about the way you try to hide your eyes tearing up when you sense him coming behind you that stirs something in him. chuuya's fingers twitch at his side, wanting to reassure you. he wants to coo over you, like someone would to a whimpering puppy.

and suddenly, it doesn't matter if dazai gets mad—chuuya just wants to be there for you. if he learns that the cause of your sorrow is none other than dazai, chuuya's punches to him are more harder than usual, and there's something more hateful about the glare he seems to always have directed at the other. he tells you something embarrassing dazai has done in the past, helps you plan and carry out your little revenge, anything to make you feel even a little better. and the way you smiled up at him was worth all of it.

maybe chuuya convinces mori to let you come on missions with him more often; after all, it wasn't like dazai had some claim on you. he treasured the little moments together—the devious looks you'd share with him before a surprise attack, the delight in your eyes when you dig into the desserts he gets you, and even the way you seemed to dim a little when it was over and you had to go back to working under dazai. obviously, that meant you liked him more, right?

dazai catches on pretty quickly to this white knight act chuuya's got going on, and it really doesn infuriate him, chuuya acting as though he isn't just as bad as dazai. sure, he's all nice to your face, but only dazai's seen chuuya brutally beat up some other member of the pm for insulting you, and only he knows that chuuya sneaks into your room regularly. if all it took to win you over was a few sweet words and outings, dazai would have you eating out of his hand in a week.

it's overwhelming to go from your usual experiences with dazai to him suddenly all over you and bribing you with sweets and trips to the aquarium. it's even more confusing when you see chuuya fuming at the corner of the hall when dazai starts telling you about how terrible of a temper chuuya's got and how easily dazai tricked him before. he eagerly offers to show you exactly how scary chuuya can be when he's mad, and assures you that he has a much better grasp on his emotions compared to chuuya. it's crazy enough already without having them actually start to argue in front of you, but that's exactly where this leads.

now for mean chuuya...

initially, his whole attitude towards you is more of indifference, a little bit annoyed because if you want to make it in the pm, you'd need to get used to this sort of treatment quickly. sometimes, he might find your reactions to dazai's torment sort of amusing. eventually, he begins terrorizing you for the fun of it; messing with the files you're in charge of or insulting you to get beneath your skin (i seriously doubt he'd be as bad as dazai but i agree w the unpredictable thing. sometimes he's even nice to you)

oh...if they think you're getting distant for whatever reason, any previous semblance of privacy or personal space is shattered. chuuya bombards you with gifts sent to your apartment, dazai is all over you, chuuya makes it pretty obvious he's following you, and dazai in turn sticks to your side like glue.

eventually, their rivalry is garnering too much negative attention, which may push them to the idea of working together or their rivalry gets worse whichever works out is based on the circumstances, and possibly mori might have a say in it if he thinks that this is disrupting the workings of the pm too much. honestly. them working together might be the better option, since to a certain extent chuuya might be able to keep dazai in check. alone, they are unpredictable and uncontrollable.

#hghghg didnt add much to mean chuuya cos i think youve explored most of it already #anyways im very thankful for your asks here honestly gives me a good break from writing oneshots #but i still feel somewhat productive! #so thank you #yandere bsd #yandere x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #dazai 🩹 🐟 #dazai 🐟 #chuuya 🐟 #subordinate au 🐟 #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya

[willsimpforanyone]

Hey! Can you do some headcanons of a (probably greek) daughter of Zeus than is younger than Jason by 5 months (bc Zeus/Jupiter can get around if you know what I mean) and what their (i mean Jason x reader sib relationship) relationship would look like? Maybe she is a little rough around the edges bc she had to raise some of her younger siblings at home and she never got along with people at school? Her powers would be electriciy (lightnig and electricity regarding houses and towns), even though shw would be rough around the edges, she would still be really kind and caring and goofy (she would just have her days and doubts). Can you alao add in what her relatioship would be with the seven and Nico, will, and Reyna (all platonic, except with Reyna). Thank you so much!

i can do that yes!

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thanks to the very small age difference, you and jason were very close

it was still a little weird for you to be treated like the younger sibling having basically brought up your biological younger siblings

it made the cold zeus cabin feel a lot warmer

arguments, though few and far between, could end up being a bit explosive

jason would end up flying a few feet above the ground while you knelt down digging your hands into the ground to manipulate the electricity from the wires in the earth

usually it took piper and leo to drag jason down and will and reyna to pull you away so you could both calm down

it usually came down to both apologising for your hotheadedness

at which leo would pretend to be offended, saying he was the only hotheaded person around here

he would recieve a smack from each of you, a united front once again

the two of you were a formidable force when together

most of the time

there was that time you both smacked into the same piece of wood one after another and got matching forehead scars as a result

percy definitely saw you as a younger sister despite the small age gap and made a habit of ruffling your hair affectionately

annabeth would end up being quite protective over you, enjoying the reversal of roles- her used to feeling like a younger sister and you used to feeling like the older sister

leo enjoyed flirting with you, he would never cross a line because he knew you were gay but it was more just a playful teasing flirting than anything serious

you were one of piper's safe spaces, where she allowed herself to be more stereotypically feminine, often inviting annabeth and hazel and sometimes will to do selfcare nights and chat about recent events

hazel and nico, in fact, were people you were very protective over, your instincts telling you to look after these two withdrawn, out-of-time kids who needed someone to look out for them

hazel definitely admired you and your confidence and frank was very happy that she had someone like you

he actually really liked fighting you- he didn't feel right fighting jason as he knew him as superior but you were fantastic to practice against

nico was a little closed off originally

yet another big 3 kid who was probably only trouble

but he warmed to you when you punched someone who was being a dick to him

you told him you knew he was capable of handling it himself but some people are dicks and need to be punched

will and you were the nico protection squad and will ended up kind of asking for your blessing before dating nico

reyna took the longest to warm up to you, being quite removed from a lot of people by default

but since you both spent a lot of time around jason, she slowly got used to your presence

small smiles to begin with, then gradually getting to the stage where she would actively seek you out to get your opinions on things

jason was the one that told you she definitely had a crush on you as he knew her almost inside and out

you were incredibly pink and pleased and were very happy when she eventually actually asked you out, blushing and avoiding eye contact the whole time, it was very sweet

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hope you enjoyed, thank you for requesting!

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna ramirez avila arellano #nico di angelo #will solace #reyna x reader #pjo

[lesbiandanhowell]

Sam (begrudgingly) reacts to: Dan and Phil play Poppy Playtime CHAPTER 2!

I fucking hate horror games and I am have a high anxiety day so this is like awful timing BUT HERE GOES NOTHING.

- Not a fan of the runtime because I don't enjoy horror so the longer the worse for me personally so fuck this actually oops

- Babes I am literally shaking and almost crying 4 minutes in this will not be fun lmao (but also I know my anxiety won't go away without dan and phil content so might as well hope they will be funny and cute enough to make me calm down).

- I hate this I want to cry UPDATE: I literally started crying right after this, about 8 minutes into the game, but it got better afterwards.

- The touch when saying 'we have to be brave' was very personal to me. (Someone give me someone to watch this with and hold me please because I am scared)

- The buttplug jokes being the only thing to make me laugh, thank you Phil. Dan what do you MEAN "tails in" in reference to buttplugs, did you see the unhinged shit we said on tumblr, because oh god please no.

- "What are we going to do now?" "Cry" Phil gets me actually thank you I feel seen.

- The color game is actually calming my anxiety SO much it's hilarious, like it's just logic and following patterns and those things are so calming even when Dan is screaming.

- "For our lesbian audience that has mommy issues this is gonna be a weird episode" YOU DONT SAY DAN YOU DONT SAY

- new lore alert: Phil going to a wrestling party

- Phil lore: he was afraid of the KFC man as a kid

- PINOF MENTION AND CLIP AHAHA, they love doing these references since they uploaded the first react video.

- Dan hiding in his hoodie is adorable, like he just fully went "nope!" and hid haha.

- I think you can see Phil's hand shaking in the whack a mole, like the camera was SO shakey which was either his inability to use a mouse or he was shaking, place your bets.

- Dan playing the mini game after all, Phil is never beating the younger brother stereotype truly.

- When did they film all of these that their heating is still broken?! Makes me think they really did pre-film most of these to have a less stressful time now during december, which good job guys!

- Mommy's voice reminds me of someone else in a tv show but I can't figure out what? Anyone know?

- Their delighted faces at seeing jacksepticeye are adorable, like you could tell they were so happy truly and I love these little easter eggs!

- "Sean you down there?" HOWLING

- They edited so many clips and memes into this (which makes me think they edited it rather than an editor) haha

- Phil just, maybe unconsciously, moving impossibly closer to Dan is a big mood (only I am alone rip).

- Weirdly enough the mini games are the most calming part for me, like there is a clear focus and clear objective of what to do and it's like: here is a problem, solve it and I think that does wonders for me.

- Unsure if I am shaking from anxiety or being cold (also great I have more uni work to do after watching this)

- Yes please sanitize my boobs. What

- I agree Phil, we have gotten a lot of lore (about you)!

- Phil's panicked "geese!" gets me every time because it's so cute.

- "I feel kinda bad" aw ofc you do Phil and ofc you don't Dan, so very in character for both of them honestly.

- "Sometime in 2023, so not much longer" Phil, honey, there are like 20 days left what do you mean?!

This actually wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, after I had my little cry at the beginning. I was actually quite calm by the end and I think my anxiety actually is less, which I didn't think would happen. The magic of Dan and Phil, see you tomorrow!

#dan and phil #amazingphil #daniel howell #phan #gaymingmas #sam reacts #Dan and Phil play Poppy Playtime CHAPTER 2!

[davosmymaster]

How do u think the moon boys would react to an s/o w more than 10 tattoos? All love xx

AAAAAAHHHH my first headcanon omg im so excited i cant!!!

I just hope this is what you wanted. It was such an open question and i kept wondering okay but how many, when, does the MC get them before or after meeting the moon boys... like SO MANY QUESTIONS!!

I hope you like my take on this. (sorry for spelling mistakes, also im not a native english speaker)

THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

Warnings for mentions of sex, nothing graphic tho

My answer is... depends.

I think none of them ever stopped to think about a s/o with tattoos, that being said I think they all were impressed when they saw them.

The first time for Steven is on a date. You ask him if he has any, and he thinks it's a weird question. The poor man is so nervous and excited about meeting someone new and having a date (finally) that he wants to go directly to the profound questions. He wants to know things like your favorite color, your favorite book, where did you go on holidays when you were a kid, the name of your pets, etc. He doesn't think anyone thinks of him as a man who's into tattoos but before he asks you you're taking your jacket off and there they are.

I think he's the type of person who'd think he doesn't like tattoos, but that is just because he's used to see large shapeless tattoos that look more like a blur than a proper work of art (and he doesn't pay attention to them anyways). Also, all the experience he has with tattoos is watching youtube videos titled "9 of the worst tattoos ever" so he does not feel like he can say anything about the matter.

But then oh you show him yours and he loves them. Once you keep seeing each other he teaches you about his hobbies and then he asks you to talk to him about the things you like and somehow you start talking about your tattoos and you show him every tattoo you have and he just wonders at how precise the lines are, the images you chose. I feel like even if you regret some of them or the tattoo artist didn't get them quite right he would still love them. Then you show him some ancient Egypt inspired tattoos like the Eye of Horus and he would absolutely lose it.

"So some people get tattoos to honor what they like, or an experience they had?" he asks, although he already knew the answer to that question. That's the first time he wonders if he could get a tattoo. He asks you if it hurts a lot, how much it usually costs, etc. And you can't help but chuckle seeing how invested he is.

The first time you two are intimate he brings your tattooed flesh to his lips. He doesn't know what tattoo he is kissing, but he doesn't care either. He loves the intricate drawings in your skin (even though it is now drenched in sweat) and he kisses you time and time again.

It takes him six months or so before he asks you for the name of the tattoo studio.

Marc hates tatoos with a passion. Like just... look at him. He was in the military. He's seen MANY muscular men and women with tattoos. He has all the references around him (sargeants, his own CO, soldiers, etc) they all had at least one big tattoo or half a sleeve... and he still has none. Why do you think that is?

That is why he tries to pay not much attention to yours at first. The thing is, either if you have more than 10 small tattoos or maybe even bigger ones, he didn't notice at first. London is usually cold all year round (except sometimes summer) and he likes to go on dates to restaurants with terraces.

The first time he sees them he's like "what the fuck?" like he didn't expect such an angelic face to have that many tattoos because he's used (biased) to associate that many tattoos to people usually in the military. Not that he thinks you're a bad person (as that is usually the stereotype right) like it's just... different but you're smart and catch him looking and ask him what he thinks and he's suddenly SO STIFF. And you can't help it but feel a little offended because they are part of you (obviously). You even think about not talking to him anymore (you two don't know each other that much yet) but he keeps calling you and caring about you and he realises that once again he has some issues he has to work on.

Then one day he asks you for your tattoos. You show him the one that has more meaning to you and tell him the story behind it. He feels like a complete DUMBASS when you do, because he thought it was just some aesthetic shit men in the military got when they got ripped enough. And he feels just so lucky that you trust him so much, as to explain and tell him why you got them, even when the explanation behind some of them is just "I liked the tattoo" or "I was feeling bad so I drove to the nearest tattoo studio and got it." Like... it changes his perception forever.

It comes to a point where you two are having sex and he is just SO delighted to see your body covered in art. He enjoys the view and doesn't even let you shower alone anymore. He likes to help you shower, cover them in soap just to reveal them after. You can't help but chuckle and remind him a thousand times how much he used to hate them.

He asks Steven and Jake if they'd get a tattoo. They are shocked at the question because they have both wanted one for some time now, but Steven was scared of bringing up the topic because he knows how Marc feels about it. Meanwhile, Jake knew Marc would change his mind at some point so he was there just... waiting.

Out of the three of them, Jake is the one who loves tattoos the most.

He sees your tattoos and immediately tells you that he loves them. He wasn't the one who met you first, though, so he already knows you have a few of them when he does meet you for the first time. Still, that doesn't make him less excited for them. It's not the same to see them through a mirror than in real life, so once he meets you he can't stop looking at them. The ink simply calls him in everytime his eyes wander without a purpose.

With time he forgets about them (as one usually does), but at first, sometimes, he even got distracted while driving because he likes to hold your hand when he drives and then he'd look down and there they were and they are beautiful on your skin. He just loves them.

He might forget about them for a while, but they always come back to his mind. When he undresses you his mind always seems to reboot no matter how hard or horny he is or where you are or if you're just in for a quickie.

When an idea for a new tattoo comes to your mind, Jake is always the first to know, because you always know how positive his answer will be. Once you even got the idea of printing a design you were thinking of getting near your hip. So you stood in front of him while he was watching tv, raised your skirt and pressed the paper against the upper side of your thigh.

"How does it look?" you asked. "Do you like it?"

He has his lips parted, eyes focused on the ink that will soon decorate your flesh. He throws the remote somewhere, grabs your waist and pulls you close.

"Oh mami, you don't know in how much trouble you are."

After doing the obvious he drove you to the nearest 5-star (according to google) tattoo studio and paid for it himself.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #moon knight headcanons #resquest #moon knight request #ask box

[phantom-of-the-501st]

So I just rewatched "Entombed" and I enjoyed it a lot more this time round.

(Post will contain some spoilers)

It's still not one that I love, but I had a better time watching it now that I've had time to sit on it. I think my main problem with it the first time round was that I had certain hopes that just weren't met and rather than accepting it for what it was, I accepted it as a failed attempt of what I wanted it to be. I normally try to avoid watching things with that attitude but clearly that didn't work out so much last week.

I definitely don't think it's perfect but it is a lot of fun and I can appreciate it more now.

I'm just gonna leave a few more bullet pointed thoughts down below to add on to what I said last week.

I still wish we had gotten more Echo content this episode, but I do understand a bit better why he is the way he is this episode (or at least, what makes sense to me looking back at it).

Hunter and Echo looking really exhausted this episode is actually really interesting and I do hope we touch more on that in other episodes.

Wrecker is adorable but we all knew that. 🥰

Didn't bring this up last week, but can we appreciate the planet design? We haven't really had a "spooky trees" aesthetic but I like it. 👻

I still believe that the rockfall was a genre stereotype moment that they used just to get 3 of them out the way for one scene, but it didn't make me annoyed like it did last week.

I found myself lowkey obsessed with the dust animation this episode.

Going backwards a bit, why are none of us mentioning the fact that Phee was pushing around the lowest rock dial thing by herself but when Tech did it, he had to enlist the help of Wrecker? Basically, I'm convinced Phee could probably knock someone out cold because she is stronger than she looks.

Every time I see them hanging off of things I feel bad for Echo. Poor guy's got his entire body weight hanging off one hand. 😭

So this weird mech thing has a stone that activates it. When it's in one slot the creature is dormant. When it's taken out the mech activates. When it's put in a different slot the stone melts and the mech self-destructs.

Weird design but okay.

It looked cool so I'll let them off on whatever weird activation system they decided to install in this thing.

I love seeing Omega interacting with other women in her life. She's surrounded by men all the time but having Phee around gives her a little bit more freedom to have time outside of her little bubble with her brothers.

Also, I've seen some complaints that this episode undoes Omega's character development. I personally don't think it does. At the end of the day, she's still a child and this episode let's her be the kid she never truly got to be on Kamino. ❤

And I feel like Hunter's insecurities about losing Omega and his struggles with watching her grow up are going to become much more prevalent later.

I feel like I had more thoughts than this while watching it but I don't remember what they were. 😐

Overall, I just embraced this episode for what it was this time round: a fun Indiana Jones style adventure. Nothing overly complex or deep. Just fun. And while I loved that in episode 4, for some reason I had a problem vibing with ep 5 when it first came out. But I enjoyed it a lot more this time round.

I'm not sure this episode will ever be one of my favourites, and it'll probably stay pretty low on the ranking for me, but seeing as there is no episode of TBB that I hate, I'm okay with that.

°•°•°•°

Less than 12 hrs to go until episode 6, "Tribe"!

Either we finally get more Echo next episode or we don't. Either way I will become incredibly annoying so prepare for that! 🤣

#the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #star wars #echo #tech #wrecker #omega #hunter #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb hunter #phee genoa

[saiyanandproud]

📫 for however many of the RGR gang as you'd like!

What my muse would say about yours

📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party.

Dear diary,

I never had a diary, I always thought it was a stupid thing for little girls, but Cynara insisted that it would help me 'putting down my thoughts in this difficult moment' so here we are. I was bored anyways. I'll start by describing the people (or, for the most part, weirdos) I've met since I got here, mostly because I don't know what else to write about.

Let's start with Cynara, since she's the one who gifted me this diary. She likes pink and unicorns and cute stuff way too much for my taste, in fact I would have never picked a diary with a pink cover and a bunny on it, but here we are. Other than that, Cynara is fine. She is often tired, I guess she works a bit too much since she has to take care of herself and that weirdo of his son as well, and now of me and that stupid prune of my kidnapper too. I kinda feel bad for her, I don't like being a burden, but then again, I never asked to be dropped here anyways. But she can also fight apparently, which is cool. And in a way, even if our tastes are different, it's good of her to enjoy who she is and what she likes without caring about judgements -- in a way, I wish I was like that too. Overall, she's a patient woman. Maybe too patient.

One of Cynara's bad traits, however, is being in an undeniable romance with that stupid coathanger who brought me here, Hit. Hit is boring, stern, annoying, pedantic, relentless, won't leave me alone for a second and yet he couldn't give a damn about me. The only reason that stupid prune cares for my safety is because of his job or whatever, and I doubt he even ever cared about anyone at all, except for maybe Cynara. Nothing elicits any reaction from him -- trust me, I've tried -- but suddenly, when Cynara is around, Mr Cold Heart makes tea for her and gets her cookies and makes sure he picks her favourite mug. If anyone asks him about their relationship, he'll deny any romantic interest, but either he's a terrible liar, or he's so stupid he didn't even realise it himself.

Then there's Nucleotide, Cynara's son. Not a biological one, thanks goodness, because I couldn't imagine the pain of giving birth to a creature like him, but he's still a pain nonetheless. Nucleotide is this incredible bug-humanoid-andoid or whatever creature which should instill fear to whoever meets him, and instead he acts like a stupid spoiled kid constantly whining with Cynara because his snacks are over. He looks so weird and yet he behaves like the stereotypical hikikomori, hiding in the darkness of his room playing weird videogames or reading about boring stuff. I don't like him, mainly because he doesn't like me, ever since the first moment I got here. He could be an asset, making his mother safe and all, instead he acts like a constant burden. If there is someone who constantly reminds me my presence here is unwanted, that one is Nucleotide.

Finally, there's Takuma. After Cynara, Takuma is the most normal person I've met here, and the only one who keeps me sane reminding me there are other people like me in this universe... Kinda. I am not sure what I am exactly yet. But Takuma knows exactly who he is, in a confident and uncocky way that makes it really hard not to admire him. He's funny, kind, hardworking and mature -- basically everything Nucleotide is not. He's always nice to me, the only one who gives me an occasion to forget the hell I am living in by offering to show me around, and he's so reliable even Hit trusts him -- although I am confident he still follows us around whenever we hang out. He drives a motorbike, and he smells nice and clean even if there is always a smudge of car grease somewhere on his face. I really like spending time with him, and maybe he likes spending time with me, I hope. But surely Nucleotide doesn't like us spending time together, and always glares at me whenever I come back to our bedroom after spending time with Takuma -- yes, Nucleotide and I have to share a bedroom, isn't it fun. Overall, Takuma is exactly the kind of person my parents would never approve because of how he looks, and yet exactly the kind of person they wished I was, personality wise, but they still would never spend time knowing him better. Not that it matters; they never could, anyways. Not sure if that's what makes him so interesting. I still have the leather jacket he let me borrowed once. I will have to return it to him... Someday.

#viopolis #(we hope no one will ever find this diary at any point) #RGR AU

[mr-independent]

'its been a while bud,' you might be saying, 'whereve you been?'

Doing stuff. My life is busy as all hell lately, but hey at least i got a free neon yellow fitbit out of the deal. Ironically, yellow is one of my favourite colours and also one of the 2 (two) colours that i can't really see. Yes, I have tritanomaly. No, I don't understand how those two things can both be true, either.

Anyways it's Christmas in May, dear 4 followers that love these posts, so let's crack open a cold one for the boys and get right into it.

S2e4, Coach Santa:

-- why is Colin wearing a turkey hat? I thought that was an American Thanksgiving thing? (Edit: apparently people eat turkey on Xmas. I grew up so decolonized i asked my mom once why my friend Baz wore a t necklace when his name started with a B. Turns out it was a cross. All I know of Xmas comes from Santa depictions and Christmas themed tv show episodes lmao)

-- Isaac's Santa outfit is fucking Iconic

-- Keeley and the Diamond Dogs is such an underrated dynamic i love them so much

-- the immediate teamwork to put together the gift for Jamie is a cute little moment 🥰

-- the title callback to the weird claymation short thing is also a nice touch. Can you tell i love Xmas episodes bc i do. I'm also Jewish lol. And I love irony.

-- I keep forgetting Roy's sister is a surgeon. Also Sexy December 28th is hilarious, i really hope they stuck with it

-- what in the world is the Higgins kid doing with a surfboard in England???

-- the fact that nobody used to show up for Higgins Christmases until Ted showed up 🥰

-- the fact that Henry got his dad a dartboard, Ted's favourite thing to do with his own dad when he was Henry's age, hurts my heart

-- Everyone is wearing shoes indoors. Is that like. An English thing? Ted is too, is that also an American thing? I am. Horrified

-- 'this one is pre-cheekied' I love u Dani

-- Richard is like The French Stereotype and I love that for him lol

-- Roy is lactose intolerant and ate so much ice cream he shit his pants? Relatable king. Also his birthday was three weeks before christmas, making him a Sagittarius, for those so inclined to know

-- Dani and Zoreaux acting like they're gonna die in the trenches over a nerd gun war are such fucking nerds

-- how long, do y'all think, has Rebecca been doing this? I'd like to think it was a sneaky little tradition she hid from Rupert for years

-- 'theres two white people at the door and they're smiling' you go babe tell it like it is

-- look i get Keeley has long nails but pressing a doorbell with your whole palm is unhinged behaviour

-- 'let me fix my knee' *just fucking punches it into place* gotta say, Roy's getting more relatable by the minute. I too have fixed my janky knee by simply shoving it back into place

-- Keeley is wearing a crop top in December. Gotta love the commitment. Also Ussie guy has such long hair now wtf

-- gotta say i completely forgot Christmas Poppers were a thing. That's uh. Not what immediately comes to mind when someone uses the word poppers around me but hey that's just me

-- i forgot we so often get answers to our questions in this show. Rebecca has been doing this for years. I love when I'm right

-- Ted's 'right I'm the one with the accent here'... Ive lost track of how many times I've had that exact thought lmao

-- Love Actually! Good movie, love that Roy thought of that

-- Ted thinks singing is just talking an octave lower. Not surprising but funny nonetheless. And before you say it, yes i understand that was Jason Sudekis' solution to trying to sing in a different accent so he doesn't sound like Jason Sudekis but also. Adorable.

#ted lasso #teddy rewatches ted

[thecreationofevelyn]

Journaling prompts 2/3/2023

Who is someone that inspires you?

I remember being thirteen years old, hurtling towards fourteen, and feeling like the weirdest, most uncomfortable person to walk this earth. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin every time I had to talk to someone else and walking down the street felt like an entire mission built to attack my nervous system.

Of course, realistically, no one cared I was walking anywhere, no one actually noticed anything about me apart from the fact I was exuding Bella from Twilight levels of awkwardness before Bella from Twilight was even a thing. In hindsight and old age, I can recognize now I was simply making things worse for myself. In the nicest way possible, nobody cares what you are doing, which I came to realize, is a truly wonderful thing.

But thirteen-year-old me was obviously the only person who felt the way I did and nobody could ever understand me for I, in the words of Avril Lavigne, was complicated.

In my defense I hadn't had your regular schooling, and I'd not had regular access to friendships growing up either, so suddenly flinging myself into the outside world was petrifying and I hadn't learned the stereotypical social skills most kids my age had gotten over by that time. I was lonely, angry about it, and felt like I was too weird for anyone to entertain being friends with. I didn't know what was cool and what wasn't and I had honestly, no idea what was going on, like ever.

I don't really remember how it got there, but one day I was going through my stuff in my bedroom; I listened to music constantly, and since having access to a proper bedroom, I had begun painting and drawing perpetually. That was my little safe space. I wasn't exceptionally good at either but when I was a little younger, I had taken a book from the library about trees and I began to draw them; it bothered me it looked so 2D and bland, so I obsessively drew trees until I felt it was perfect. From there, I discovered how much I enjoyed drawing and how much silence it created for my brain. So there I was rummaging through the stuff stashed away under my bed, when I came across a plain silver CD that just said "SKYLINES AND TURNSTILES" in marker pen. I didn't understand where it came from, no one else was ever in my bedroom and I hadn't so much stuff that I would have simply forgotten about having it. So I stuffed it into my CD player and pressed play, anxiously waiting to hear whatever it contained....much to my dismay, I hated it. "What is this absolute noise!?" I thought, shoving it back into the clear plastic pocket it was previously stored in and returning it to deep dark depths underneath a teenage girl's bed.

A couple of months went by, uneventfully...I think the biggest thing was I joined a drama group around that time, a drama group whose female director rather insensitively commented on how "Heroine chic" thin I was and how "You should audition for the drug addict in our next production, you have the look for it.". I made friends with two girls and I was so incredibly happy because I thought I was establishing some real friendships until a couple of weeks later when these girls, the same age as me, started discussing how many boys they had given blowjobs and turned to me for my number, as though at 13/14 this was a regular, normal thing to be chatting about. The week of auditions I came down with a vile cold that completely took away my voice and I thought it was my body's way of telling me to get out of there, so I did.

By this point, my rage was building...I was angry I couldn't relate to people my own age, I felt simultaneously so much older yet so much more naïve, I was angry at myself because I felt I had failed by dropping out of the drama group. I couldn't play Hockey or swim. I didn't know how to be anything other than quiet and draw.

For some reason, I listened to the mystery CD again and this time it was suddenly clearer like someone had translated this foreign language for me.

The first line I heard the vocalist sing was "You're not in this alone." and it felt like an invisible hand being placed on my shoulder. I don't believe in God as we're taught, I believe in something but I don't think it is as accessible as being something you can name. It is a feeling, this warmth, safety, and familiarity of finding something that feels like you have finally found a home.

I wanted to find out whose music this was, I went to the closest HMV store to me and asked a guy working there if he knew of any bands that released an album or EP titled Skylines and Turnstiles, he said no, the guy beside him though said yes, but it was a track, the album "is called Bullets or something, it's by My Chemical Romance." announced guy two "Who's My Chemical Romance?" asked guy one of guy two. "Some band" came his insightful response. Guy two showed me the aisle that held the ONE and only copy they had in store of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love by My Chemical Romance. I took it home and listened to it all the way through in one sitting. My life changed.

Shortly afterward came Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, this was my first time seeing the people that had created the album I'd been in love with for the past year or so; they had this band photo on the back of their album and headshots inside the album artwork, the styles of these photos reminded me of a horror movie poster vibe which went hand in hand with it's cover art that had a striking resemblance to the piece The Lovers II by Rene Magritte. The band are lined up with the central guy wearing all black with only a silver belt buckle of a Bat standing out and I remember thinking he was just so goddamn cool!!

I fell in love again with the storytelling of Three Cheers, the relationship between both albums, that this wasn't just music...this was the content of someone's mind being whispered, sang, and screamed out into the universe to see if anyone else felt the same way...it was someone's rage, loneliness, fears and discomfort being put on a painful amount of display in a plea to find they were not in this alone. In a generation of pumped-out pop machine hits, I'd heard nothing like it...nothing so raw, truthful, borderline painful to understand, yet so chaotically beautiful.

From there on, My Chemical Romance became a part of my little world; and although I love and admire each one of their talents, the person who inspires me the most has always been and always will be, Gerard Way.

For being brave enough to be vulnerable, for being selfless enough to push through, for being strong enough to overcome, for being determined enough to make sure kids like 13-year-old me knew they weren't in this alone, for still bringing comfort and inspiration to me twenty years later and mostly, for always having been unabashedly themselves throughout.

I still have no idea where the original CD with Skylines came from, it seemingly disappeared the way it arrived and in the unlikely event Gerard Way ever reads this, I just want to tell you one thing...

I still think you're so goddamn cool!!

Merci pour le venin ~ xo

#personal journal #journaling prompt #my chemical romance #mcr #MCR #Gerard Way #my chem #ray toro #mikey way #frank iero

[giraffeonstrike]

My wife asked me what my papa would think about me marrying someone who had a kid already when we met. I don't know what she thinks when she envisions an older Jewish Slav...and I don't even know what I would think about any others besides my parents. There's a lot of weird media depictions of Ukrainians, Eastern Europeans, Russians...cold, stony, heartless...I don't know where that comes from but maybe she's picturing a movie version of my papa and THAT guy just didn't exist.

Sure, my relations recently displaced from Ukraine are a little conservative but not by American standards and are downright disgustingly liberal according to the MAGA crowd that infests the state I live in. They are all my age or younger, the old folks have either passed away or moved (my bubbie is currently just chilling in Boca, living the stereotypical retired Jewish lady dream), and being younger may have a lot to do with them not being so dry. Some of my (male) cousins will call me a pidor, and if I didn't know them all my life I might be offended...it's never had a tinge of judgement or malice, just a fact that Cousin Eli is a bit of a fag.

My father never talked to me directly about my sexual orientation but there were lots of times his "maybe you meet a nice girl someday?" had more emphasis on the "girl" than the "maybe". The question, now that I'm older and fully realizing, was always "are you queer like I think you are?" When my mama was here helping with the baby after she was born, we talked a lot about this...he asked her so many times if there was any "NEWS from Elias" and she always took that to mean "has he come out yet?". So, they both always knew but I didn't ever actually tell them. To mama, after papa was gone, I just introduced her to my male partner and she was more shocked that my wife had no issue with me having them both, and that "my friend Moses" was firmly more than a friend.

When I got married the first time, the night before the wedding, my father asked me if I was sure. I wasn't, but I didn't want to be a dick and back out. When I got divorced, he was already gone and so I'll never know what he'd think about that but I can guess, based on a conversation we had maybe six months before he passed away. My now ex-wife and I were having pretty extreme issues and she'd punched me in the face after an argument about, of all things, where to go for dinner. I left the house, sat in my car, and did something I had never done before...I called him to bitch.

He told me I could come home any time I wanted. My room was open. He'd make varenyky and everything would be fine. And then he said something I will never forget...

"Maybe it's a long time before you date again or get married but you will find a nice SOMEONE someday...and you will be happy, I promise."

I don't think he'd care about anything other than that. Whether that made him atypical for an older Ukrainian man or a Jew is beside the point. It would make him typical for my papa, always wanting his children to be happy. Wanting us to be well, even if he just couldn't ask us directly what that wellness meant. I learned a lot about being a father from him, even if I never thought I'd get to apply it. Now that I have a son, a daughter, and a mystery on the way, I know for sure that I'll never want anything more than I want for them to be happy.

If my papa didn't fit the Hollywood standard of Eastern European masculinity then I guess that's genetic, and probably the best genes I got.

#Tumblr is not a diary site #it is now #ramblings #coping with grief #remembering #fatherhood

[marshmonaut]

Grimoire- Chapter One

Wattpad Link:

“DAMMIT! Watch where you’re going, jerk!” I yell angrily as a passing taxi nearly barrels me down in the middle of the crosswalk. After narrowly jumping out of the way, I show the driver one of the best uses for the middle finger that I've learned since coming here. I then resume my slow trudge in the direction of the prison the government likes to refer to as “public high school.” I know it’s a little cliche to describe school as prison but, well, how else do I describe this place? 

Nothing but concrete walls throughout all four towering stories, one for each grade level. The building is so tall and imposing, in fact, that during most of the day it blocks out the sun entirely so it constantly stays dark and cold. Really helps add to the whole “bleak gothic chic” aesthetic they got going on here. The only saving grace is the fact that you can see slivers of the outside world through the thick iron bars they keep on the few windows this place has.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the actual beings that are supposed to bring life to this place seem to suck it out of the very air. The teachers here are some of the most boring, strict, and miserable people I have ever met. And that is saying something, coming from me. What’s even worse is that they make it their life’s mission to make sure all the poor trapped souls they call students feel just as miserable as they do when we’re here. 

On my way through the doors, I am practically tackled by someone and we both topple to the floor in a flurry of limbs, textbooks, and swearing.

“Aw shoot. Um, I'm so sorry. I, uh, I wasn't looking where-”

In the middle of collecting my now bruised and confused carcass off the floor, I look up to see what made whoever it was stop talking so suddenly. Only to find them staring at me with this… stupid blank expression on their face. Despite still being on the floor themselves, I can see that they’re tall and lanky and built kind of like a maypole. No wonder they fell over so easily. I take in their features as they begin to stand up and gather themselves. They have soft golden yellow hair with bangs that brush just above their slightly bushy eyebrows, matching in color. These bushy brows are set evenly on a face that is surprisingly impishly cute with hints of mature features starting to peek through around the cheekbones and jawline. Inset in this face are two startlingly clear blue eyes. It looks like someone had encapsulated the water of the Maldives in this person’s eyes. Which are still wide open and staring directly at me. Kinda creepy, actually.

“Hey, look man, it’s cool. Honest mistake. Just be more careful in the future, ok?” I say as I pick the kid up off the floor. They’re still staring at me while I pick up some of their books and papers. They’re still staring when I hand them back to them. And they’re still not saying anything. Okaaaaaayyyyy then.

“So…I’m just gonna…” I start to trail off and back away towards my homeroom. As I turn around to keep walking, I can still feel that stare boring into the back of my head. There’s something about that kid that makes me feel...I don't know exactly. Warm? Fuzzy? Weird? Yeah. Weird is the word I'm looking for. But not in any particular sort of way or anything. Although, I might have to keep an eye on them. Juuuuuust to be sure they aren't suspicious or anything.

*   *   *

Who are they? I see them around the school all the time-it’s not that big a school after all-and they always strike me as that stereotypical “mysterious lone wolf” type of person. And, ok, so I might have had a BIT of a crush on them since they transferred here a month ago which might be why I see them around all the time, but I've never had the guts to actually try and talk to them. Super wimpy, I know.

Anyway, today is the first time I actually have a face-to-face encounter with them and what do I do? I stutter and mumble like a freaking idiot after bulldozing them in the hallway. Good job, man. Real smooth. I pick up the rest of my books and pencils off the floor and shuffle to my first period homeroom, trying to ignore the snickering and side glances from my peers. I guess I should probably be used to all the pointing and laughing by now, but it always hurts just a little. 

Walking down the hallway a little further, making sure to pay more attention this time, I finally arrive at my first period class. Math. Joy. Glancing at the clock, I see that I have some time before class starts. Maybe I can get a quick power nap in before the boredom starts. After setting all my things in their various appropriate positions on the floor and my desk, I slouch over it and close my eyes. I’m trying to force my mind to shut down so I can get a few blissful seconds of peace before the bell. For some reason, I can’t get that person out of my mind.

I guess I shouldn't really judge them for being all alone. I don't have very many friends either, being the stereotypical “clumsy awkward nerd” kind of guy. Which also explains why I just sat there, staring stupidly at them after we fell over. But I couldn't help it. I had always thought they were pretty from a distance but...they are absolutely breathtaking up close. 

Their bright fiery red hair fell so gracefully around their delicate face. The faint splash of freckles across the bridge of their nose playing a nice compliment to the flustered blush in their cheeks. And their eyes, a piercing jade green. They were almost like headlights inset with freshly polished emeralds. There was such an intense coldness and determination in them though, like I've never seen before. But the thing that stuck out to me the most about them, was the way they looked at me, almost like...they were looking at my soul. Like…like they were actually seeing me. Ugh. Who am I kidding with all that sappy bull? Keeping my eyes closed, I shake my head to try and clear the thought of them out. They’ll never look at, much less talk to, me again. Why would they? So, why bother? But...there’s something about them that makes me feel...I don't know. Drawn to them, somehow. I have to know more about them. The being with fire for hair. And ice in their eyes. And I actually might have an idea of who to ask, too.

#grimoire #ya novels #aspiring author #new author #original work #witches #magic #modern fantasy #modern fiction #ya fiction #wattpad #chapter one

[starryflix]

Rain

The 27th of November, 2022

Well, for now it seems this is a daily thing. It is weirdly calming to put my thoughts out for other people to read like this. Even if I don't get any/that much engagement there's still something about just ranting and letting my thoughts go as I write these posts that has some form of relief. I have been sleeping shit the past few nights, likely due to an onset of different kind of problems.

Today it has been raining very softly. It hasn't been exactly cold, as I could make a small trip to the grocery store with just my turtleneck layered by a hoodie, but winter seems to be really coming soon. The temperatures keep swinging up and down (which is not great for my skin condition) but very slowly the windy and cold Dutch winter weather is seeping in.

It's about 16.00 on a Sunday and I didn't exactly do a lot. Something came up halting my final edits on an assignment for World History, some story about a Chilean Quilt and why it tells something about history. The assignment is interesting, don't get me wrong, but with the amount of deadlines and changes I had the past week trying to focus on the last bits and pieces of the semester before the finals is hard. I just hope that I can regain my footing and focus again next week.

The entire teacher rant of yesterday, now that I have read it back, is also one with a lot of gaps. I think it is because there's so much to say and no words to say it, never mind the fact that it also includes a large part of my backstory that I can't go into detail about too much right now. It has been a complicated few years that passed by and although my brain seems a lot more organised it is still as chaotic as always. Reflecting has always been one of my strong points, but it also means I reflect a little too much on the past.

The rainy days are better for that than anything.

My sister is watching some Netflix series upstairs, my dad is off for a fieldhockey match, the last one before the winter stop and I am sitting at the table in my childhood living room watching MatPat play Bendy and the Inkmachine the new instalment. This year a weird amount of things that I was interested in in 2017 have been resurfacing and I am not entirely sure how or why this is the case. Going back to the stereotypical 'weird middle school kid' vibes I guess. It is mainly background noise anyway. I am more focussed on watching the rain and the people outside passing by. Thinking about what their stories could be, or guessing how old the dog is. Just observing the world as it with a warm cup of tea in between my hands covered by my hoodie. (because really, is a sweater actually big enough if it doesn't fully fit over your hands?)

I have also been having a conversation with a guy from uni, someone I mainly got in contact with because the both of us are writing a fantasy novel and exchanging creative process and ideas. I have been honest about my creative process but then he got some questions about fanfiction as he never really dove into it or got into contact with it. I did send him one of the things I wrote after consulting some of my internet friends but my god I just hope that he doesn't change his entire view of me. It's not like I have ever written anything explicit, or anything remotely out of boundaries. I have never felt comfortable doing so specifically since what I write tends to be about actual people. It is still just something that I see as a hobby I need to hide. Even though I had multiple talks with my new uni friends about it and some of them have read some of what I have written. I am not sure why it is different with him, but I think it's because I don't want to be the one teaching him about all the weird wonders that fanfiction can entail, even if he seems genuinely curious rather than repelled.

I am also not scared to admit this out here, even though I am well aware that if I do actually end up publishing something people are bound to find me, or my writing on the internet. Someone is bound to recognise my style. It is going to be inevitable anyway as the thing that is now worked out to become a fantasy novel was once a fanfic that I had partially uploaded on ao3. I have just been adjusting and reworking it for the past three years to actually turn it into my own novel, you could barely call it a fanfic in the first place to be completely honest. I did not really have to change much besides writing style and names.

So yeah. There's that. That's an update.

#Felix' Blog (a collection tag) #rain #fanfiction #writing

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

A Family Affair

Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader

We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of. 

Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies.  This fic will definitely be a two parter

Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!

TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut

Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.

You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.

You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.

The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.

"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."

She nodded.

"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."

You smiled when she giggled and ran off.

Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"

He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.

"Uh - forty-two."

He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.

Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?

"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"

She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."

Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"

You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.

"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.

"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."

"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."

You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.

The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.

"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"

The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."

You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.

"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"

The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.

Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.

"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"

She shook her head.

A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."

You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.

"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"

She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.

He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.

You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"

"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."

You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."

"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."

There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.

"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.

There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."

Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?

There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.

The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.

Eri.  You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.

"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"

"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"

Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.

You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"

You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.

The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.

"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.

"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."

Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.

"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.

Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.

"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."

---

It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.

When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.

You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You should've left.

Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.

"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.

"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."

Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.

Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."

He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.

"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.

With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:

"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."

He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.

"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"

With narrowed eyes he continued:

"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."  

The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .

"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee.  "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."

---

After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.

Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.

"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."

The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.

The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."

She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.

"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."

The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."

Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.

"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."

Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.

---

There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.

"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.

"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”

The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.

"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."

For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.

"You're going to kill me?”  

Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.

"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."

Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”

There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.

#slasher au #mha x reader #bnha yandere #mha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere x reader

[jackrrabbit]

open season thirsts [3/?] /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Request: my darling sara dm’d me this request for halloween-themed dabi creeping on poor innocent reader <3

@printhes ily for getting me to make a halloween playlist in fucking september. your mind unparalleled. this is just a drabble but i’ll consider continuing it for real halloween…

Tags/warnings: stalking, mentions of alcohol/drinking, drugging, angel costume ok ok

everything seems a little more spooky on halloween.

your mouth tastes like cranberry juice and white rum and bacardi breezers and you wonder if it stained your lips red. the halloween party you were at was fun, but you shouldn’t’ve had that fourth drink…and you shouldn’t’ve said you’d walk home alone. it’s cold. you didn’t bring a jacket because you thought it would ‘ruin the outfit’, or something—and hey, 5-hours-ago-you has a point. this year you decided you were going to be an angel for halloween, and you don’t own anything that fits over the wings.

still. damn it, why didn’t you bring something to change into? sure, you’re probably not the only pretty girl stumbling down the sidewalk in a too-short costume and too-high heels past midnight on october 31st, but the stretch of pavement you’re walking down is weirdly deserted. no fellow post-party walk-of-shamers, no random teens in ribcage t-shirts smoking in huddles, not even the perpetual annoying men who seem to think yelling about your tits as you pass by should be taken as a compliment.

you don’t know this area of the city well—you took the bus here, and by the time you left the party the buses weren’t running anymore. according to google maps your place is less than a mile away, but everything around here looks unfamiliar. chain link fences, brick walls, rows of iron grating covering closed storefronts. you pass a club you’ve never heard of and hear a snatch of the music pumping from inside—‘this is halloween’, the marilyn manson version. so stereotypical...the clubs have to stick to the theme, right? they played this song at your friend’s party too, and now it’s going to be stuck in your head for weeks.

but the music’s fading into the background now, and the only thing you can hear is the clickclickclick of your shoes against the concrete and the buzzing of the streetlights overhead. mist is hanging low and thick in the air, seeping through the thin satin of your slip and lifting cold sweat onto your skin. the dark feels darker than usual. you check your phone for the dozenth time since you started walking…

no signal.

that’s weird, isn’t it? the neighborhood you’re passing through has gotten steadily more residential than urban, but it’s not like you’re in the middle of nowhere. you stop dead, hold up your phone and turn in a tight circle, trying to coax out a few bars of data.

nothing. damn it. well, you know you have to keep walking in this direction for a while. hopefully if you go far enough, you’ll get somewhere you recognize. you take a step forward, making for the next orange halo from the streetlight at the end of the block.

god, it’s so quiet. shouldn’t there be—like, a dog barking or something? a couple yelling at each other, crappy teen music from a house party, some kids snickering to each other while they TP their principal’s house—something. it’s halloween, for fuck’s sake. it shouldn’t be this quiet. it’s making you imagine things…

…like another set of footsteps behind yours.

click. the heel of your strappy white pump hits the sidewalk. click. you take another step. thud.

you’re imagining things. you stop in your tracks again and twist around to look behind you. there’s no one there, just the blue-black expanse of sidewalk disappearing between the trees. you’re just imagining it.

you start humming. just to have something to listen to that isn’t your shoes and your own nervous breath. as predicted, that fucking song is stuck in your head, so you start murmuring the lyrics quietly.

“come with us and you will see—“

keep going. keep walking. the house next to you is decorated like a 9-year-old’s halloween fantasy—big inflatable jack-o-lanterns lit from the inside, plastic bats hung on strings over the stairs, cotton batting stretched out to look like cobwebs. there’s even a hunched-over witch mannequin sitting on the porch swing with an empty bowl in its hands, the kind of thing you’re sure would bust out a terrifying animatronic cackle if a kid got too close. the next house has foam gravestones sticking out of the yard. the next house has gigantic purple-striped stuffed spiders twined into the trees near the entrance, and the next house—

“—scream in the dead of night—“

the light overhead flickers.

someone’s behind you.

you heard it for sure this time. footsteps, not yours. and the sound of someone flicking a lighter on. you’re not sure why that knowledge makes you shiver—weren’t you wondering why the hell no one else was on this street just a few minutes ago?—but you pick up the pace, almost skipping in the direction of the next light down the block.

don’t look back, you think. maybe you’re still imagining it, maybe the atmosphere is getting to you and you’re nervous for no reason. keep singing. “—everybody’s—everybody’s waiting for the next surprise—“

someone laughs—low, a man, mocking—but don’t think about that. your heart is beating like crazy, fuck, you’re an idiot, who walks home alone on halloween while dressed like the sluttiest angel since lucifer? damn it—your little white slip is riding up on your thighs and you smooth it down with cold damp palms. you can’t run in these shoes, not really, but you want to. he’s probably just passing by. he probably thinks you’re an idiot for running away. you’re being really rude, it’s really—you’re panting—

you hit the circle of light and the rush of adrenaline from being able to see around you makes you pause, turn involuntarily behind you to look for him. but once again, there’s nothing there. maybe you really were dreaming it up. maybe you’re too tired or you’re drunk or maybe you’re losing it.

either way, it’s time to call a damn uber. no more walking in the dark in a nightdress and fluffy white wings. you shrug your phone back out of your purse to check if you have signal yet—one bar, but the map isn’t loading. it feels quiet again and you realized you must’ve stopped singing so you pick up where you left off while you twist around again seeking a better connection. “something’s coming…no, what is it? something’s waiting now to pounce and how you’ll—“

“scream?”

weight on your shoulders. you whip toward the yellow streetlight and he’s in front of it. he’s dressed up, you think dazedly, he’s dressed up for halloween—dark eyes dark hair all those piercings and his face—but then your brain catches up and you try, you try to scream, except a hand is folding something over your mouth and pinching your nose shut and he’s squeezing around the grip you have on your phone until the pain is unbearable and you have to drop it—

you hear it hit the ground. your phone. it probably cracked. but you can’t look, can’t check, can’t bend down. how are you supposed to? a man, a man has you, he has you. the cigarette hanging out of his mouth glows blue and then a cloud of bitter smoke hisses out into your eyes.

his face. god, that has to be a costume, it has to. you need to breathe but he’s holding a damp rag over your mouth like some movie villain but you need to breathe. you shove a fist into the hard muscle of his torso and nothing happens. could you kick him? your legs feel shaky.

you make a whimpering sound and the corner of his mouth curls up into a smile. “are you trying to fight?”

your lungs are screaming. you need oxygen, your head is starting to spin. air rushes into your lungs before you even realize you’ve taken a breath and it tastes wet and warm and sickly sweet. he adjusts his grip so he’s holding you more securely, ready to lift you up when you fall. feels warm against him. you’re already getting dizzy but you shake your head, push weakly against the dark fabric of his shirt.

“save your strength, angel,” he laughs softly. one of those horribly scarred hands cups the side of your face where you’re staring up at him and he pinches your cheek. “…you’re gonna need it.”

#dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha headcanons #jackrrabbit open season #dabi #bnha #mha #boku no hero x reader #yandere #yandere dabi #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere dabi x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #yandere x reader

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Tags: @itsnottilly

Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.

Navigation — Mixtape

“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”

Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”

Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”

”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”

She snapped.

Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-

“Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”

Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.

Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?

“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”

Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”

”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.

“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?

Oh right.

Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?

Maybe.

But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.

To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?

”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.

Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”

Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”

”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”

Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?

Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?

Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.

Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”

”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”

”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”

Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?

Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.

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