#Hot Toys Hunter custom

[faithwalkcreationscloneart]

Okay, it's done enough I am happy with it. I will tweak the scarf a bit more, but like it already. This is my first time doing anything like a custom figure. It was made using the 1:6 scale/12" Hot Toys Hunter figure, with some 3D printed armor and helmet, a 3D printed MJB animated style head, and the clothes were made from t-shirts I had already. There is no knife and sheath yet, waiting for one small enough to work. I did all the painting. I learned a lot too, had no kind of instruction, just a vision of what I wanted.

I am not sure if I will ever offer these in my Etsy shop due to cost of supplies, but never say never! Mainly I wanted to make this because I wanted it - Hunter S2 armor is my favorite! And to quote Omega, "I like a challenge." Now, S2 version of Echo is next! Oh, and I already am started on a LIFE SIZE S2 version of Hunter. That'll be fun!

I have an Etsy shop with prints and calendars of my clone art for sale. https://www.etsy.com/shop/FaithwalkCreationsCo 

On Facebook you can find me at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564620144107

[themareverine]

Toy Soldiers | part one | worst!wolverine x namelessfem!OC

synopsis: He was just a one of those fast food kid’s meal toys from 1993—key word, was. now he’s Hugh Jackman incarnate, standing in the master bedroom of her midwestern apartment, lost in time and infinity. she’s gotta get him back to his world, where he’s the worst Wolverine, where he belongs—or, maybe not?

warnings: Indian in the Cupboard themes (iykyk), fluff, AU, not entirely sure what else at this point, nameless!femOC with blue eyes could be interpreted as reader, mentions of a best friend named Rose, etc, literally based on this silly little toy I rescued and now have crafted extensive lore for.

a/n: i didn't ask for this to become a multi-chapter thing. i really didn't, ok? this got away from me, but i really love these two so much already. this was fun to write, and she's a fun character to develop. worst!wolverine is just occupying too much brain space.

MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

Dreaming in color is a pro, when you weigh it against the cons—usually.

She’d been dreaming in movie-like quality since she was a kid, could pinpoint almost to the exact timespace when she first realized her dreams were akin to Hollywood flicks roving about her brain like Spielberg classics.

She’d been six, maybe seven. A hopeless crush on Wednesday night’s Steve Irwin had somehow twisted the innocent power of her brain—the only, almost divine dreamstate visit to Australia she’d ever taken. Still she can taste the hot air, thick with sweat and arid desert, from the back of an obscure Land Rover, jostled and bouncing along forgotten roads and who-knows trails. Eyeballing open sky and endless outback sands, the Crocodile Hunter and his darling wife, Terri, vivid imaginations to a childhood fantasy yet, mostly, unlived. 

And ever since this God-granted, she’d always assumed it was a gift and thus titled it so, she’d been dreaming vividly most of the last twenty four years. Forgetting her dreams was the exception, black and white—unheard of. Tasting, speaking, reading, touch was wrapped up in REM and weighted blankets, vicarious life she’d never, really, lived in her waking moments—everything from the supernatural to gut-wrenching. Martial bliss and familial tragedy. Combat she could only ever hope wasn’t accurate. Fame and fortune. R rated filmstrips that left her stomach light and fluttery every morning, promptly, at 4:45—alarm shrieking in her ear, viscerally ripping her back to the land of the living with frothing teeth, the Greatest Showman custom alarm all but a slap in the face.  

It’s, as usual, dark when the numbers on her phone roll over to 4:45—sucked out of a dream like the vacuum of space itself lays claim to her soul, her eyes flutter open heavily to stare at the alarm. Hugh Jackman would never be so unwelcome as he is now, blaring from little iPhone speakers—she manages to lift a noodle-esque arm to slap at the noise hanging out in the darkness around the vicinity of her nightstand. 

Fingers locate the smooth screen, swipe away the prompt for snooze. Roll over. Hand over her eyes—it’s Saturday The day after Friday, her first day alone all week. World beyond is closed away behind walls and empty schedules, priorities otherwise left-fielded for such days as this.  

Warmth simmers beneath heavy weighted covers, trapped against her body. Clawing up through her mattress, threatening to pull her back into oblivion. Pharaoh’s hadn’t been so mummified, entombed as she is now, but that’s the beauty of a queen mattress left unshared—solidarity. Armies only wish they held such control over real estate as she did these sheets, this bed frame—very little could remove her from the ecstasy that is this Eden, the one place that did not require compliance, performance, untenable perfection.

Here she could rot for hours, engage in adventure that the earth would never understand—that man would jeer. 

Heaving a sigh melts her deeper into her astronaut-designed mattress, stomach suddenly flatter than it’s ever been as gently fingers tease at the strip of skin exposed. Back arching, stirring nearly-paralyzed muscle. Toes skip over warm satin sheets as she navigates to her side, arm tucking beneath her pillow. Drawing blankets to her chin, another deep breath closes her eyes, shuts off her brain—all but ready to return to dreamstate, the screen on her phone illuminates again—diiiiing.

Light explodes, lighting up the area of her nightstand just enough to give purpose to her surroundings. 

Nose scrunching in an effort to unhear and forget the notification, her eyes slowly pull open as she considers the phone. It’s her best friend, she knows it is—Rose is up early. All the time. Taking care of her little family at the base of the Teton mountains, as if this is Little House on the Prairie and such things were the norm.

Her inability to ignore anything from Rose props her up on an elbow, has her reaching for her phone—thumbs the passcodes. Opens the text, eyes scanning the message from last night. 

It’s a photo message. She’d sent it last night, proudly showing off the latest addition to her childhood nostalgia collection—a thrift store find, the little McDonald’s toy is hardly noteworthy. Scuffed and worn, it had seen adventures, surely, in its pre-her-possession life. Surprise had knocked her between the eyes like a stone when she’d managed to spy 1993 printed on the little action hero’s foot, in barely-there legalese. 

At thirty-one years old, one may have expected the little five-cent made-in-Taiwan to end up in the landfill, rotting alongside near-radioactive diapers or kill-the-turtles plastic straws.

Nope, not this one—Marvel’s very own little Wolverine. Dolled up in a cute little sci-fi bronze suit, ready for a fight. Retractable claws, the hardly-scuffed cowl, a proud encircled X in all its glory—wrapped up in a little sandwich baggie marked down at the thrift. She’d almost felt sorry for him in that cute aggressive way. 

And almost giddy at the fluke cocktail of age and condition, she’d pocketed the little guy. A pleased smile, her very own little Wolvie nestled in the leathers of her jacket, then the bottom of her purse. He’d adventured to work with her accidentally on Friday, plastic eyes watching her pass the time at the office from his little perch beside her keyboard and Starbucks. Almost had forgotten him, poor thing—he’d landed on her nightstand among the other needs-put-away items for the weekend, proudly standing in his posed little battle stance.

All he needed was matching Sabretooth, maybe Magneto, and he’d be good to go. 

Looky who came home with *me*, shot over to Rose with a little thrill, a Snapchat-like photo of him perched alongside her night cream and phone charger. More of a proud sentinel guarding her bedside table than anything, she’d regarded him playfully, like a child—had told him to close his eyes when she’d undressed. Had asked him about a movie to watch in bed as she managed hip-opening exercises, relaxing breathing techniques. All but kissed him goodnight, promising to get him settled among her other collectable childhood wonders in the morning.

After coffee and cardio, wouldn’t Hugh be proud. 

Rose’s LOL text all but smiles back at her, and she’s a little cross-eyed from the brightness of her phone. It improves when her eyes skate away from the phone, to the little Wolverine—wait.

Brow furrowing, his absence from the nightstand sparks more panic than she’d be willing to admit in therapy—she bends over the side of her bed, fingertips skating the floor in search of her little plastic wonder. Nothing but plush carpet, abandoned laundry she’d failed to relocate to her drawers—her phone slips from her hand as she hauls herself over the bedside, to peer beneath.

It’s dark, duh, and she fumbles upside-down with the flashlight on her phone. Sun levels of intense light, she makes arching passes beneath her bed, but no dice. Nada. Zilch–zippo on the Wolverine toy. 

“Well this is just a little ridiculous,” her mumble rolls off a dry tongue, from messy hair as she works herself back up from hanging over the bedside. 

Forcing off her weighted blankets has never felt more urgent, importance spiking her blood with ill-placed adrenaline she doesn’t understand—why she cares so much about a little three-decade-old McDonald’s toy she’ll never understand, but the thought of him lost in the abyss of her house is more unsettling, again, than she’d admit in therapy.

Legs swinging over the bed, she plucks her glasses from the tray on her nightstand, grabbing for the light robe dragging the floor from one of the nightstand’s knobs. 

Wrestling a steer would’ve been easier than un-inside-outing the garment, still hazy and half-asleep and wholly uncaffeinated, but she manages. Another scout under her bed reveals that, no, little Wolvie isn’t among the dust bunnies and lint of her carpeted under-bed floor.

Brow furrowing, her glasses slip down her nose as she hauls herself back to her feet, sleep-stiff muscles protesting as she massages the back of her neck. 

Hands on her hips, she reaches for her phone. “Had I known you had teleportation powers, little Lo, I’d have sold you off to NASA—come on,” Triggering the flashlight on her phone again, she dives to check between the headboard and mattress, to see if her Logan lookalike decided to magically dive headfirst into the almost-abyss—

“—you make a habit of talkin’ to open air, girlie?” 

Two things happen immediately in her body. 

First. Alarm jumps up in her chest like a devil, deep claws sinking into the meat of her chest only to rip away any sense of safety taking up residence behind her ribs, in her bones. Heart forgetting to throb, blood all but stands still in her veins, asystole in her arteries—she can feel the lining of her stomach twist into a viper-like coil so cold, she fears frostbite has set into her organs.

Fear knocks hard on the door of her sternum, ripping the wind from her lungs. Terror opens up her vocal cords and bludgeons a song from her throat, but it’s so dry in her apartment that the fleshy membranes of her mouth have all but become cragged Sahara sands. Tongue swelling to the size of her fist, she fears she’ll choke on it. Forces it against the back of her bottom teeth, jaw clenching with enough force to break open the world. 

Legs somehow managing to propel her up onto her mattress, across the bed, to the farthest corner of the space. Cold sweat raises to a dance across her skin, satin sleeping pants clinging to the flesh of her thighs as sapphire eyes attack the figure cutting through the threshold of her door—hands low and open, in placating surrender.

Brow furrowed with canyon deep lines, dark eyes flick over her frame as she takes a step back for each of the ones he cautiously makes into the room. Invading her privacy, an unwelcome intruder. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” early morning gravels his words, which hang low in baritones not at all unfamiliar, “‘m not gonna hurt you. You breathin’ ok?” Genuine concern passes through his eyes, deep and alive, but—not in a bright way. The corner of his lip tips up, “Don’t mean to scare ya, pretty.” 

Pretty? Sweetheart? Who the hell is this—?

Any familiarity his face holds is lost to the bite of adrenaline, slavering teeth trenching into the back of her brain. Seeming to lap at the spinal fluid all but bubbling down the length of her back. Chest heaving with effort, she fears her ribs might break. Cardiac muscle behind her chest bones all but explodes with every heavy heartbeat, reminding her to stay alive. That she, still, is living. 

Stomach sour, twisting like corded steel, she lunges for the foot of her bed—snatched the first thing she can retrieve. Face all but a blazing inferno of heat, nails all but pike into the soft plush of a stuffed animal. Her favorite. Or, rather, was—now little more than a weapon, it stands between her and the invasion like a fortress. 

“What the hell are you doing here,”she challenges, taking a half step back. Memories of kickboxing classes, somewhere in her youth, escape through the fingers of memories in the back of her head. More boxing posture than anything, she lifts her arms to chin level. Fingers tear into the stuffie like it’s a lifeline, like it’s protection. And for now, it is. 

Not giving him the chance to answer, his mouth hangs open in muted response, “This is my apartment—you can either leave or I’ll–I’ll forcibly remove you.” It would take a 911 call—it would mean grabbing her phone from the nightstand, punching the emergency button, and staying away from him during response time. All unlikely, given proximity. The size of the apartment. How he blocks the only damn exit with his huge-ass frame. 

Jaw snapping closed, a thick brow pops up. He chuckles. He think this is funny, “Whoa, take it easy, bub—” 

“—shut up! Stop talking!” Pointing a strong finger at him, she shuffles back on light feet. Bobbing as best she can, trying to appear light. Prepared. But everything in every manual in the world wouldn’t have prepared her for home invasion—all those home defense classes. The hours shooting clays and targets with her father. Worthless. 

I am so going to die. 

Another step into her sanctuary, holy of holies. “Quit moving, damnit!” 

The stranger stops mid-stride, brows arched in surprise at her tone of voice. Squinched nose, and tightly shut eyes add to what must be a comical look on her face. Coupled with crimson cheeks and the shake setting into her hands, she surely looks—well. A sight, if little else.

Realizing nothing short of an eternity has lapsed in the cool peace and blissfully ignorant darkness of closed eyes, hers pop open. She watches has near-pawlike hands, mapped with raised veins and pronounced callous, drop to his sides for all of a minute. Her heart cuts against her ribs like an ax laid to roots, willing to break something loose—he chuckles. Laughs. Some faraway light catches the darkness of his eyes, brightens his face in a way that only ever seemed so Hollywood, but is now real. 

And he laughs with his entire body for all of a few seconds, wrinkles at either side of his eyes deepening into canyons that seem to fill with his amusement, at her expense.Mind short circuiting, her toes curl into the carpet, calluses on her heels catching frayed fibers as she does her best, again, to stay light on her feet. Nothing about her is light, certainly, and she attempts to calculate distance, how many seconds it would take her launch her body forward, toward the door. Past him, into the corridor, out the front door.

 HIs hand extends, palm up. Waving her forward, as if she were some thing to beckon—

—until her stuffie chucks directly at his face, a blur of hot-pink fur and fluff. 

The moment she arched her arm and sent Mr. Hearts on his first-ever attempt of flight, her feet springboard off the carpet, launching her forward at a speed she never thought possible. Adrenaline jumpstarts every one of her cells, lacing through her veins like rocket fuel—and the world spins by in a blur of color, her chest racked with pain as her heart racehorses behind bones that are no less than temperatures akin to magma. 

Tunnel vision blocks out the world, save the nearly sparkling promise of the room’s exit. Tears bubble up on her lash line, hot and intruders on any clarity of brainspace she’s trying to will forward. Hot, breathy fear closes her throat, nothing but blood rivers through her ears—nothing except the ache of her throbbing heart, the painful push and pull of her lungs expanding and retracting. 

They say hearing is the last thing to go when your soul begins to fade into death, but it’s a lie—she can’t hear a damn thing. And she’s more than alive.

Missing completely the soft snikt!, the what-would-usually-be unmissable split of skin, there’s a muffled tearing of fabric as once beloved Mr. Hearts suddenly becomes two halves of himself. Puffy stuffing explodes into the air, faintly she can feel her beloved stuffed animal hit the floor mutedly. In some back door of her brain she knows what’s happened, but survival carries her feet—pumps her arms. Zeroes her gaze on the door, blocks out anything other than the gut instinct to run, run, run hard. 

Finger reach to grab the doorway, hurl herself around the corner—but it’s too late. Electric movement snaps through the air, a microsecond passes before a thick, heavy arm catches her around her waist. Hauls her backward, sucks her from the door like something from  Star Wars, the world spinning by in a Picasso of color and tears as she’s manhandled, forced back. Kicking her feet into the air, she wills him to break, throwing her body mass back, against him. Arches her back. Wrangles and claws at the hair on his arm, the muscle that is taught against her rebellion.  

Throat splitting with a shriek, she’s silenced when his enormous palm claps hard over her mouth. It feels like centuries have passed, but in reality, it’s been seconds. Breaths and heartbeats. Tears trailblaze hot down her face, her throat all but reverberating with sobs. Body heat wraps around her, butter down her spine as the arm around her middle pulls her tighter. Closer. Keep your enemies close—

And he’s tall, legs anchored behind her. Like a brick house. Snot begins to empty her sinuses in a slick, sticky mess. Her mouth attempts to open behind the palm of his hand,all saliva and spit. Doesn’t seem to do much. Digging her heels into the floor, her foot skims the floor. Looks for one of his. Finding it, she slams her heel against would-be soft bones, and he hisses. Grunts like an animal.

“Knock it off,” his baritone rumbles, a dangerous growl over her ear, “not here to hurt you, darlin’.” A lie. She doesn’t believe him, digs her heels farther into the soft flesh of his feet. Buries her nails into his muscle, the soft flesh of that tender spot under the wrist. Veins, lots of blood there. 

Something obscene slips past his lips. Fighting back more stinging tears, his fingers curl around her wrist bruisingly, and with herculean strength, he whips her about-face, suddenly chest-to-chest with her as his fingers fist in her hair. Pulls sharply, “fuckin’ hell—calm the fuck down,” his fingers fall from her hair, instead grab her chin with an almost bruising grip, “stop bawlin’, for Christssake,” 

Her nails milk as they dig into his wrist, deep red lines canyon the hand holding her face with a patience lost to most members of his sex. Hard, dark eyes hold hers with a fierceness that numbs her intestinal tract. For a moment, an arctic swirl is born and dies in his gaze, resurrected instead a hint of grief and—empathy, maybe. A lostness she can’t describe. Confusion punches lines between his knitted brows, etching deep into ruddy, masculine features a kind of unwordly handsome, had he not been sent to kill her. 

Oh God, please—Shaking, her eyes pinch closed again, unwilling to let him see any more of her soul. More snot and tears, saliva pearls between the seam of her lips as she tries, and fails, not to blubber. Knees buckle. Hangs there, full weight of her body supported on her chin between his fingers, jaw suddenly alive with inferno pain. It lasts seconds before he lets her go, and she sinks to the floor, slackdoll and sobbing. Staring across the floor, her cheek burns against the harsh fibers of the floor. 

Her belt. Abandoned, on the floor last night after a work dinner. It’s the only thing, and her brain conjures images of just exactly how she’d use it, suddenly Jackie Chan or GI Jane or some shit she’s seen a thousand times on film, has never executed. Hiccuping in short breaths between sniffles and sobs, tears leak into the carpet off her cheek. Her heart pumps blood that may as well pool into her chest, leak between the cracks in her confidence. 

Stepping back, he looks at her. A cocktail of surprise and irritated, he sinks to a crouch. Shakes off red marks that still linger on his arm, wipe her snot and saliva on his-–are those yellow?-–pants. No time to notice, to care—her nails catch against the fibers of the carpet. Begin to push her bodyweight up, on an elbow. 

Unburdening a sigh, his hand scrubs his face as hers darts across floorspace. Snatching the belt with a speed she’s never fostered, he doesn’t even have time to put two and two together before the leather snaps like a whip, thick silvers from a rodeo buckle landing fully on the bone of his jaw. Cuts a deep line that flashes scarlet, rips open flesh like a fillet knife. 

“Fuck!” it’s harsh, bestial.

Reeling back, she finds time to scramble to her feet like a clumsy foal, looping the belt around her fist once as he pops tall. Backpedaling away from arm’s length, she pistons towards the door, on fire and pumping adrenaline like a sieve. 

And she flies. Out of the bedroom. Down the corridor. Somehow she manages to find her keys on the kitchen table as his heavy, earthshaking feet pump down the hall. Fumbles over her own feet at the front door, slams into it hard, bounces off. Fingers suddenly unable to communicate coherently with her brain, the chain lock on her apartment door is all but burning as she tries, and fails, to work it just so. 

“Come on, come on! Work, you piece of shit—” she’s never sworn more in her life than she has now, and it’s sour, like bile splashing up on her back teeth. But it rips from her throat all the same, bitter and hot, as she mutters fuck, fuck, fuck me! under short, airy breaths that do nothing to put oxygen back into her body. May as well be a drowning soul, the way she sucks in air. Gasps for breath. Drowning or an emphysemic. 

Ignoring the hard breathing behind her is impossible. Whirling around on the ball of her foot, he’s close enough to lock her against the door. Her head falls back hard enough to knock against the door, rattle her teeth. And as her vision begins to settle from the bouncing in her cranium, she sees the three blades bury to the knuckle—the knuckle?—in her heavy, pristine oak front door. Rattles the wall, splits the sheetrock. 

Pupils blown wide, she can feel all the blood leave her body. Terror locks her spine between slavering, hungry teeth. Gaze welded to the blood pearling from fresh wounds between white knuckles, the hinge of her jaw fails. Her mouth opens mutedly, enough for him to count her teeth if he so desired. 

And maybe he does. “Goin’ somewhere, honey,” it isn’t a question. That grin is animalistic. “Stay awhile, huh?” 

He closes in. Her head snaps forward to find him. Nose to nose, he sneers at her, and her eyes think to move to the fillet of open flesh her attack has left on his jawline—or, had. No evidence of even so much as a mark on the sharp line of his jaw, just dark facial hair and sweat that’s bubbling up on his skin, angry red that fans up his neck. Swearing to God she can see the vein in his temple throb with blood, her grip on the leather belt tightens before reality sets in. 

Ohmygod, ”You’re—” her stomach resurrects up her throat. ”—Jesus,” and it isn’t so much a curse as it is a prayer, a hope. A lifeline—grasping at straws, praying something sticks.

Reality begins to fall away, through boneless fingers. Feeling the belt slip from her control, her throat suddenly constricts to the point of oxygen deprivation. Gaping like a fish, her tongue swells to a thick cotton she can no longer feel. 

Numb—everything buzzes with that painful, white-noise needling. 

And she does the only thing her body can manage. Shoves past him just enough to upset a chair—

—-and throws up. 

still working on my taglist but: @thevoicefromanotherworld @sidkneeeee @misscrissfemmefatale @eternallyfrustratedwriter and those who showed interest: @ayamenimthiriel @pandapetals @theoreticalfreak @definitely-not-chill @ghostytoasty17 @werewolfpilar

[metalomagnetic]

What kind of ✨ toys ✨ would your Voldemort’s partners bring in the bedroom, and what are his reactions?

Ok, so I spent way too long thinking about this.

Bella from Beauty and the Beast sometimes brings rope. Bella from Stop all the Clocks, brings Rodolphus (the world's best service top) 😂 Voldemort is highly receptive in both scenarios.

Tom from Ouroboros doesn't as much as bring a toy, but he transforms the world around them into a toy. I think he likes playing hunter/prey games, with high stakes, chasing each other through some super cursed ruins somewhere. Voldemort thinks this is very childish, but he indulges Tom, and always enjoys a good hunt, especially when his hunter/prey is someone as intelligent and creative as...well, him.

Harry brings himself. He is the toy. He enjoys being at Voldemort's complete mercy. Voldemort will never tire of this, having the bane of his existence submit to him.

Albus brings a chess game. Look, I know that is not technically a sex toy, but they are huge nerds, ok? The games are spectacular, and it stimulates their minds, so they are all hot and bothered by the time it's time for bed. Voldemort is especially bothered if Albus wins the game (and he almost always does). Also, I feel Albus would wear some really colourful lingerie under his robes. Maybe some stockings, too (especially for Lesser Evil Voldemort). Voldemort is 10000% obsessed with Albus (in Meta and in Lesser) so he's up for everything his redheaded man wants. Fawkes wishes he would be blind, and has taken to flying far, far away as soon as the door to the bedroom closes for the day.

Abraxas brings a cock cage. A very expensive, custom made one ( what do you mean he bought it from the filthy muggles? Keep that slander to yourself! Abraxas would never! He *totally* found a wizard that makes sex toys, somewhere in the otherwise very puritanical wizarding world). It has precious gems, and it's made of gold and everything. He thinks he's going to convince/bribe/beg Tom into wearing it. Tom does, and they have sex, and then he puts it on Abraxas, curses it so only Tom can open it, and sends him home to his big Manor and his wife. Good luck trying to explain to your father why you can't get your wife pregnant, Abraxas!

Gellert and Voldemort are into some really crazy stuff. I won't even mention it. Dark artefacts that should most definitely not be used for sex find their way into their bed. Insane spells and potions and whispered plans for world domination.

Sirius brings a leash, of course. It isn't entirely clear who will wear it. Voldemort would accept pretty much anything, because if they're having sex, then that means Sirius can't leave, can he now?

(Sirius from White Bishop will eventually bring some handcuffs, and they both have belts on them at all times, so they're going to be quite busy.)

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

For the emoji ask! absolutely LOVE your writing

🎲-dealer's choice +🩹 and ✏️ - maybe 🎲 comes down with a bad cold/flu and, with no real idea how or desire to take care of themselves, needs someone to remind them that they're worth taking care of?

We All Fall Down - Bob Taylor/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, Bob needs a lot of help.

Wordcount: 6356

Summary: You knew everything about your neighbour, or so you thought, apart from his name, but when you end up the only one willing to help him when he falls under the weather, you might just get your chance to finally learn it.

Notes: My first Bob reader! This request was actually perfect because I'd been wanting to write this exact scenario for him for months, so this was the perfect excuse to bump up this idea from my personal list to my queue ;w; so thanks! As much as I'd love to just take care of him forever, I get the feeling that he wouldn't be too okay with getting help while he's got a bad fever, so get ready for the hurt before he gets any comfort and I hope you enjoy QwQ 💗💗💗

Summer was giving way to fall outside of your windows, the leaves already starting to change now that September was underway. You loved this time of the year, there was something special about autumn that always made you so content while you curled up on the porch with hot cocoa in your favourite sweater. It was the season of comfort, and you really wished you didn't have to go to work today as you shot your alarm a glance and groaned. You got up fast, the fresh air blowing through your windows urging you to get up and come feel the cooling breeze after such a rough summer all the way, and you didn't stop until you got to your car and saw your estranged neighbour picking up his daily newspaper from the end of the driveway. 

You waved to him as you always did but he didn't return it, his eyes on the ground as he grabbed his paper and headed back inside, and you noticed that he was looking a little rough before the door shut, it opened just enough to allow him entrance yet again. You shrugged and headed for work, your window down and music blaring the whole way there as you breathed in deep. You picked up a morning coffee and sipped at it until you parked, people already waiting to get inside the shopping center like a pack of rabid wolves. You didn't envy the cashiers on mornings like this, your cushy job just stocking shelves allowing you to easily avoid customers' wrath so long as you had more aisles to escape to. 

Today was going to be one of those days again, and you took your sweet time casually unloading your boxes as you traveled back and forth between the storage area and the shelves that were already getting swamped with early fall hunters. They ate up everything that was orange and leafy, the Halloween stuff wouldn't be out for another couple weeks still, so this was their time to get in everything else before that battle began. You caught the eye of your co-worker when two old ladies fought over the cutest wreath in the crafts section, and you both chuckled as you let them be and kept on working.

You were in the kids section redressing the mannequins in sweaters and jeans instead of t-shirts and shorts when you saw him again, and something about him made you pause a little as he perused. He didn't have children, you knew he didn't after being neighbours with him for so many years, but he still hung around the mannequins you'd already dressed with an expression like a father who'd lost his child. You didn't bother him, letting him stare until someone else approached and he anxiously looked over to them and left, and the next time you saw him he was looking amongst the toys until he found a rather cute teddy bear and picked it up. 

Again you didn't bother him, waiting to see if maybe he was getting it for someone or himself, but when a young kid sprinted past him he came back to life and watched him go, his eyes then landing on you. He put the bear back and quickly walked away, and you almost followed him when a younger co-worker walked up to you and made a show of shivering.

‘He's creepy, isn't he?’ she asked even though he might still be within earshot, and you quickly spun to get her to quiet her voice a little. ‘No, really, all he does is look at the kids' stuff and sometimes buy kid clothes, but I've never seen him come in with anyone, isn't that weird?’

‘Maybe he has nephews,’ you dismissed, not wanting to reveal that not only was she right in that he lived alone but that he was also your neighbour; that would get around fast, then they'd be pressing you for information like crazy, and you didn't want that for either of you. ‘Anyway, aren't you supposed to be on register this morning?’

‘Oh yeah, I closed real quick to tell you we need you, it's so busy they're opening up the extras so I'm finding everyone I can to bring to the front until it calms down.’

So much for your cushy shelving job.

You nearly jogged to your station of choice when you saw the lines already stretching out further than they should, the usual call of, ‘I can take whoever's next!’ earning you your own line in seconds flat. You plastered your biggest smile on before starting to ring them up, and by the time the lines thinned again you were sore and so sick of the colour orange. You closed your eyes and cracked your back the moment you got a break when you heard a small noise to your right, and you quickly apologized when you saw that it was him again; he'd found something he wanted, some clothes again just like she'd said, but you didn't say anything about it as you flashed him a more genuine smile and got his total.

‘I take it you didn't want the bear?’ you asked pleasantly, but he was so far away from you mentally that he barely registered your voice with a small, ‘Huh?’ ‘The bear, from earlier, I saw you checking it out, didn't want it in the end?’

‘No, no, sorry I-’ He cut himself off to cough a moment, his eyes scrunched tight as he held his fist in front of his closed mouth so he wouldn't cough all over your station. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight when you remembered that he hadn't looked too good that morning, and now that you were face to face you could definitely see that he was paler than usual; there was a light beading of sweat on his forehead that only worsened with his coughing, the bags under his eyes were pronounced, and the flush on his cheeks wasn't from the social interaction, it was something else as the cough subsided and he hazily looked up at you. ‘Sorry, I'll just pay and… how much…?’ 

He could barely form a sentence he was so sick, and the clothes remained waiting at the end of your station as his legs then gave out and he crumbled to the floor. Everything stopped as heads turned and whispers filled the air, and you sprinted around to him to make sure he was okay and that he hadn't hit his head on the counter behind him. He hadn't, but he'd banged up his knee pretty good on the way down, and his ankle was twisted uncomfortably underneath him, but he didn't notice either as he started coughing again until he couldn't breathe. ‘Should we call an ambulance?’ someone above you asked, and you shook your head and took his temperature.

‘I'll bring him, I know where he lives for after,’ you said without a care, they could ask you all the questions you want later, right now he needed someone to actually give a damn about him. ‘Hey, go grab me some cold medicine from the pharmacy real quick, I'll pay for it later, and that blue bear from the kids aside,’ you told your nearest co-worker as your supervisor showed up, yourself and a kindly patron with long blonde hair and a friendly smile helping to get him on his feet so he could be taken to his car, you already knew it down to the plate number and you didn't want to leave it here while he was home.

‘What's happening?’ your supervisor asked the moment your neighbour was standing, and it was then it hit you that you knew where he lived, what his car looked like, what his plate numbers were, and his usual habits, but you'd never even learned his name. 

‘This man is sick, I'd like to take him to the doctor's, get him checked out, I'll work extra shifts this weekend to make up for it,’ you pleaded, and he looked between all the waiting faces before sighing and getting out of your way, he wouldn't make a scene over you helping a sick man, that'd be bad for business.

‘Fine, be here all the earlier on Saturday if you don't catch what he's got, could we get someone to sanitize this station so this register can be opened back up?’ he called into the crowd, and you and the other man helped carry him all the way to his car while your co-worker rang up everything and followed after you. You quickly located his car and stole his keys so he wouldn't have to walk so far, your neighbour not even noticing when you reached into his coat pocket to find them. 

He leaned against the patron up until you drove up, and he was carefully sat into the front seat beside you with his things set into the back, a wave given to the man and a whisper for your co-worker to make sure you picked up whatever he got as thanks. She nodded and rushed back in and then you were off, your neighbour slowly coming back to lucidity when he saw he was moving.

‘Where are we going?’ he mumbled softly, and you just barely told him you were heading for the hospital when he started to panic. ‘No, no- I wanna go home, please take me home-!’ he pleaded desperately, his hands weakly pawing at the car door even though you were still moving.

‘Okay! Okay, I'll take you home, please just sit still, we're almost there,’ you relented immediately at his panic, but he didn't calm until he saw that you were telling the truth. He was a wreck by the time you pulled into his driveway, his hands on the door again and forcing you to stop early when it flung open before you could even reach the end. He stumbled all the way to his front door, his hands in his pockets and searching for his keys until his panic grew again. 

You ran up behind him with them in hand, and he flinched when he heard you coming like he expected you to hurt him, which only made you feel worse as you handed them over and allowed him to search for the right one; he looked even sicker from the mental strain, and you gave him a moment to calm down and unlock his door while you grabbed the bag from the car. You did, and he did, but the moment you started to walk back to him he slammed the door in your face, just a glimpse of his returning panic showing on his own.

‘Hey, please open up, I just wanna make sure you're gunna be okay,’ you said to the wood, but the sound of the lock turning was his reply to that.

‘What's in that bag?’ he demanded with another cough, already forgetting that he'd been right there when you'd asked for everything inside.

‘Just some cold medicine,’ you told him but he didn't believe it, his cough getting worse.

‘No, there's too much inside for just that, what else is in there?’ He needed to know, this was really freaking him out for some reason, and you looked at the bag before telling him to go to his kitchen window. You met him there, and he pushed aside the curtains to make sure you weren't lying as you took out the medicine, still sealed, then the clothes he'd left behind, and you were just about to show him the bear when his eyes fluttered shut and he fell again. You heard the loud crash of him knocking whatever was on his counter to the floor with him, and you ran back to the door and tried desperately to open it.

‘Hey! Are you okay? I can help, please just let me help!’ you called to him through the wood, and you pressed your ear against it tight for any sign of movement until the slow sound of the click reached you again. You instantly turned the handle and carefully opened the door up, your neighbour slouched against the wall and breathing heavily in his fever. ‘I need to get you to the hospital, you could really be sick,’ you told him as you brushed aside his bangs and felt his forehead, but he just shook his head and moaned sickly.

‘No, please, don't make me go… I'll be good… I can finish them…’ You could barely make out what he said, but once you replayed it over in your head you felt your chest ache, and it was then you finally looked up and saw the state of his home; the walls were absolutely covered in hand drawn mazes, one big sprawling beast that looked more like a spreading infection than a decoration. The stuff he'd knocked over had been a stack of dirty plates with food still on them, he hadn't been eating much lately because of this cold, and every single window was closed and only making the air stuffier around him.

‘I won't, but tell me where your room is, I'll make you some soup or something while I'm here,’ you offered, but he managed another head shake before his vertigo worsened and he looked ready to vomit.

‘Don't, no more, I can do it…’

There was no use talking to him like this, he was too sick to even register who you were right now, so you left him a moment to look around. Most of his doors led to the wrong rooms, the bathroom, a closet, a second bigger closet, an empty room, and the final led to a locked door. You were about to ask if that was it but he couldn't hear you, his eyes shut tight while he coughed and moaned and rubbed his throat and arm, he must've banged it up as well when he fell. 

You didn't know what to do, he needed proper bed rest and there was no way you'd be able to get him into your house when he was that eager to get home, so you shot him a glance before running across the yard and grabbing a few things. You returned with the sleeping bag you bought for camping but never really used, as well as all three of your couch cushions so he wouldn't be sleeping on the floor, since he only had an armchair of his own in his empty living room. 

For someone who always looked so put together it was surprising how he lived this way, but you again didn't say anything as you made up his bed and ran home again for some supplies. This time you returned with a few spare pillows, some bottled water to keep nearby, and every single can of chicken noodle soup you had left in your cupboards, something he definitely wouldn't have based on the discarded TV dinner trays in his open trash in the kitchen. 

When his makeshift bed was made, you crawled your way back over to him, making sure to be careful not to startle him as he just laid there, breathing. You still didn't know his name, but you really wished you did as you approached, your hands a safe distance away as you whispered to get his attention.

‘Hey, come this way, okay? I just want you to lay down,’ you said gently, and when his eyes opened again it was like he was looking right through you. ‘You need to rest, I'll stay with you until your fever comes down, so please work with me here…’ When he didn't object you attempted to slip his arm around your shoulder, your own going behind his back, and he whimpered the entire way to the cushions; you couldn't wrap your head around it, he'd always been timid, but he never failed to flash you a smile and a wave when he got his mail, although now you were starting to realize how forced it might've been. He wasn't put together at all, he was hanging by a thread in here, all of it was a facade and it only broke because he'd gotten so sick and had no one to look out for him. 

He didn't understand what his bed was supposed to be at first, but as soon as he felt it was soft he laid down, three cushions clearly not enough as his feet hung over the small edge and rested on the floor. You frowned and grabbed his chair cushion, noting the stack of unopened mail next to the ashtray full of old cigarette butts without a word, and brought it over to him, his shoes gently removed so he wouldn't get dirt on either it or your sleeping bag. His socks were a rich red, quite the contrast to everything else being so beige and brown, and when his feet were all tucked in you moved on to his coat.

He wouldn't need it, but he fought you the entire time you tried to get it off of him, like he was afraid of what would happen if he lost it, and you shushed him and brushed his hair out of his eyes until he was calm, his arms easily sliding through the sleeves when he realized in his haze that you weren't going to hurt him and that he was much too hot. You tossed it out of the way, his head set down on your comfiest pillow when you were done, and he sank into it like he'd forgotten what a pillow felt like. That didn't bode well for you, and you shot the locked room another glance as you got up and went to clean up the mess he'd made now that he was comfortable.

You worked fast, he didn't seem to have ants waiting at the ready but you still didn't want to dawdle and give him one more thing to worry about just in case you missed something, and while you were at it you filled up the sink and got ready to do the dishes, just to help him out. 

When that was done you went back to your original task of giving him some cold medicine and getting him on the right track to being healthy again, or, as healthy as he could be due to the lack of proper food he seemed to eat, and you made a mental note to see what he was running short on seeing as he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. You cracked open the seal on the cap, thankful that your co-worker had grabbed a bottle and not the capsules, he wasn't in a good enough state for any pills, and you filled it up to the line and prepared some water to wash it down as you positioned yourself next to his head.

‘Head, drink this, you'll start to feel better in no time,’ you told him, and he cracked open an eye, looked at the strange coloured liquid in the small, plastic cup, and fully freaked out.

‘No!’ he practically shrieked, swatting it from your hand and spilling it all over you, staining your work shirt purple and making you flinch as the medicinal smell filled your nostrils almost aggressively. He flopped off of the cushions and bumped into his coffee table, completely tangled up in the sleeping bag as he looked around and attempted to figure out where he was, but he was home, and you were just trying to help him, how was his fever so bad that he couldn't get that?’

‘Please, you're getting too worked up, you'll make your fever worse,’ you pleaded with him, the stains ignored in favour of getting this man back onto his cushions. ‘What do you want me to do to prove to you that I'm doing this for you?’

‘Drink it!’ he implored you, pointing to the knocked over and thankfully capped medicine bottle. ‘Show- show me it's okay!’

You weren't sick, but being this close to him might end up making you you were pretty sure, so you decided to humour whatever he asked as long as it got him taking this medicine, laying down, and hopefully having something to eat today. ‘Okay, here I go, it's okay,’ you said slowly as you poured just enough to show him, you didn't want to take a full dose, and you held it up and swirled it around to prove that it was there before grimacing and throwing your head back. 

It'd been a long time since you took any cold meds this way, the liquid caps were so much easier, and you felt like a kid again as you scrunched up your face and grabbed the water you were planning on giving him. You rinsed out your mouth before showing him it was gone, it was safe, and he looked between it and you before deciding that you were telling the truth.

‘Okay,’ he repeated before sniffling, you should really grab him a box of tissues as well soon, and he climbed back onto the cushions and waited for you to pour him some more. He was almost like a child, and you chalked it down to the fever exaggerating his apparent paranoia as you poured again, held it out for him to take, and let him swallow it himself. He mirrored your earlier expression before you handed him some water, and instantly having the liquid seemed to help as he downed more than half the bottle and handed it back to you. You took it and helped him lie back down, and his stomach grumbled the moment he was tucked in again.

‘When's the last time you ate?’ you added him, but he was already starting to fall asleep, all the exertion from his panicking knocking him right out. You went back to the kitchen and did a quick scope of the area, a lot of his food ready-made or instant just as you predicted, and most of everything that wasn't frozen past their due dates. You grabbed the bag you'd used for the mess and started to clear out all the expired food, the bag eventually growing too heavy and needing to be thrown out and replaced before it was even full. You hauled it to the curb and grabbed a new one when you returned, and he hadn't moved an inch as he panted and sweated through the fever.

You took a break to sit with him, a cup full of water next to you as you wet the washcloth you'd found in his sink drawer and dabbed at his forehead with it until he looked a little less pained in his sleep. His face softened and he stopped fidgeting as much as he was cooled, and you saw that he was actually quite handsome when he wasn't panicking. He still whimpered in his sleep like something was troubling him even then, and when you were done cooling him you cracked open the kitchen window and did the dishes as quietly as possible. 

It was strange, being here and cleaning instead of being at work, but you knew you couldn't leave him after all that, and you didn't want to set him off again by sending over a stranger to do this in your place when he'd reacted badly enough to you. When everything in the kitchen was cleaned you gave him a glance, made sure he was still sleeping, and moved onto his bathroom, because you knew if you stopped there then things would go back to stagnating, unfortunately. It was small, a quick clean, but it was clear he wasn't a big fan of chemicals when you found only towels and toilet paper in the ensuite closet. 

You ducked back home again to grab your own, gave the place the deepest clean it'd probably ever had, and let it also air out as you shut the door and kept the sterile smell away from the rest of the house. You couldn't help it, but since you'd started you couldn't stop, and you found yourself tidying his two closets as well, since they were sparsely filled and mostly just needed a bit of organization. You sat on the floor and refolded everything in the smaller one with the shelves, sorting all the knick knacks and containers while you were at it so things would be easier to find and grab, and you took another break to cool him down and make sure he was okay before tackling the bigger closet.

You moved all his coats to either end of the space based on the season, you felt he might appreciate the separation, a little order in his life to make things easier without needing to rifle through the entire bunch when he had this much available space. You did the same to his shoes, although that took less time seeing as he only had two more pairs, and the one looked like he hadn't even worn them yet, like he was saving them until his current pair finally wore down. 

When you were satisfied you checked out the spare room again, making sure there really was nothing in it, and when you confirmed that yes, he just wasn't using this room outside of drawing on the walls, you let your curiosity lead you back to the only door that wouldn't allow you entrance. It was stranger still to have his bedroom locked when he wasn't in it, and you were about to see if you could find the key out of sheer curiosity when you heard him make a sound from around the corner. You immediately returned to him, he was awake and looking around again like he didn't know where he was, and there was a moment of returning panic on his face when he saw you appear and approach him in his own home. 

‘It's just me, how're you feeling?’ You let him get reaccustomed to your presence as you sat back down, giving him as much time as he needed as he checked out the bed you'd made for him in slight confusion.

‘B-better,’ he rasped, clearly still sick, but now lucid enough to see that you weren't a danger to him, although he did linger on the dried and slightly sticky purple stain on your otherwise clean shirt, ‘what're you doing here?’

‘You collapsed at the store where I work so I brought you home, you know you had a bad fever earlier, right?’ you asked, and he felt his forehead with an equally sweaty hand. ‘Here, you're still too warm.’ You gently pushed his hand aside and felt him yourself, definitely still warm, but less so, and you wet the washcloth and attempted to dab at his forehead again before he pulled away.

‘Why are you doing this for me?’ He said it so softly you almost missed it, his eyes not even looking at you as he leaned away from the dripping cloth.

‘I wasn't going to just leave you here,’ you answered honestly, but it didn't make him feel better and you could see it on his face as he gripped the sleeping bag under his pale hands. 

‘You didn't have to, I can take care of myself, y’know, I've been sick before, I've survived worse,’ he muttered, and it didn't sound like a joke in the slightest, his tone concerning you mixed in with what he'd said earlier.

‘So, I should've brought you home and just… what, gone back to work?’ you confirmed with a frown, and he nodded in reply, like that was what he genuinely wanted. ‘You say you can take care of yourself, but you could barely stand, you weren't cleaning up, I wasn't even sure if you were eating or drinking, how could I leave… Bob, if you won't take care of yourself, then who will?’

He looked up at you, meeting your eye in surprise at the mention of his name. ‘How did you-?’

‘Your mail, I saw it on the front of the top envelope, but I didn't open any, don't worry,’ you quickly explained, and he glanced at said mail before turning back to you.

‘I can take care of myself, I always have,’ he mumbled almost to himself as he drew his legs up to his chest, and again he drew your attention to his arm when he rubbed at it.

‘That doesn't mean you have to, though, not on your own,’ you tried, and when he didn't move you shifted a little closer to him and dabbed at his forehead again when you saw how red his face was getting. He didn't flinch away this time, actually leaning into your touch as you cooled him, and when the water ran down his face just a little he closed his eyes and looked more relaxed than he had all day. ‘I know we haven't really talked much, or at all, really, but we've been neighbours for a while now, and… I hope this doesn't sound rude but I haven't seen anyone else around here, do you… do you have anyone you could call in case your fever comes back? You really shouldn't have to do this on your own.’

‘I'll be fine.’ He went to get to his feet without looking at you, and you hoped you hadn't offended him before he staggered on the cushions and nearly toppled over again, he really shouldn't be standing. You hurried up to support him but he didn't want it, now determined to make you leave now that you'd not only called him out on his loneliness, but also seen the state of his place no doubt; no one else had gotten this close and he couldn't have you be the first, and you didn't know whether to leave him or insist on staying as he walked to the door and opened it. ‘Thank you for your help, but I can handle it from here, you should just- go back to work or something.’

‘Wait, at least let me do this,’ you insisted as you headed over to the now clean counter, and you saw the way his eyes looked over everything you'd cleaned when you took out one of the cans of soup you'd brought over. ‘I have a trick for this, now that you're awake I'd like to teach it to you.’ He hesitantly looked you over, his eyes shifting between what you'd done and what you were about to do, and he thought it over before shutting the door again. He nodded and joined you by the counter, and you quickly opened the can before going to his freezer. ‘I know it's not from scratch, but it can really make a plain can of soup that much better,’ you began as you grabbed the few things that had survived his cold, a bag of frozen veggies and some celery added to the counter along with a big pot. ‘I tend to just use the carrots, but I think you could use a little extra, if you don't mind me saying.’

He didn't speak, just watched you work with the odd cough and sniffle as you dumped one can, quickly joined by a second, into a pot along with the veggies and celery after you'd chopped up the still fresh sections. He didn't have much in the way of cooking, clearly he didn't do it outside of his usual meals, and you waited until the pot began to boil before giving in and rushing home. 

He watched the stove for you while you grabbed what you were missing, and when you returned you found him leaning over the pot and breathing in the lovely smells. You quickly diced the onion and added in the parsley, dill, and lemon, and you had no idea how well it was going to work with the peas and green beans but if he liked it then you'd consider this a success. 

You waited until it was all cooked, a quick sip followed by a bigger bite of everything making you moan in hunger, you'd worked up quite the appetite while you'd been cleaning you realized, and he looked less ready to throw you out as you set it to a simmer and grabbed a bowl. Crackers were one of the few things he still had, and you pulled out a sleeve for him after presenting him with the steaming soup, Bob licking his lips and looking ready to cry even though it was such a simple recipe. ‘See, nothing beats homemade, but I can at least spice this up for you, you aren't allergic to any of that, are you? I should've asked first, I'm sorry-’

‘I'm not, but thank you, for asking, I mean,’ he said softly as he lifted the spoon, and he blew on it a couple times before taking his first bite; some colour came back to him as the tastes penetrated his cold and allowed him the simple joy of good, hot soup while sick, and he ignored the crackers completely as he sat on his cushionless chair and scarfed it all down. It was still too hot, and he kept burning his tongue when he didn't want to wait at first, but the bowl was empty before he knew it, and life looked good on him as he looked back over to the stove. ‘Uh…’

You didn't let him ask, gladly refilling his bowl for him as well as bringing him some water, and you weren't sure if it was because you'd opened the window earlier but it certainly felt lighter in there as he dug in again. You smiled at him, seeing him like this was much nicer than whatever was troubling him before, and you considered him okay enough to leave just like he wanted as you gathered your coat and keys.

‘You're leaving?’ You froze mid-step on the way to the door, Bob staring at the floor when you turned back to him. ‘I mean, you aren't gunna have any?’ You hadn't planned on it, you'd made it all for him, but you felt you couldn't resist as you set your things back down and grabbed a second bowl from the cupboard. You didn't fill it as much as his, you still wanted him to have most of it, and you made sure to save him all the good stuff before pulling up a cushion and sitting opposite him on the floor. ‘...It's been a while since I had anything like this, not since I left home,’ he confessed to you as you ate, but you didn't pry, you knew he had more secrets than what you'd seen so far. ‘It's nice, the food and… and getting to eat with someone, I didn't think I'd be able to have something like this again, after…’

Your curiosity was killing you, but you quelled it by reaching across the table and placing your hand over his, not taking it, not making him feel trapped, but just showing him that you were there.

‘Well, anytime you wanna have it again, or any other meal, or even just someone to sit with you when you're sick again, you can always call me, I'm right next door,’ you promised him, and the look of hope on his face was both relieved and tragic at the same time over something so small. 

‘Does that include today, or do you still have to go to work?’ he asked, and when you smiled at him he flipped his hand to hold yours for that extra bit of comfort. 

‘I already told my boss I'd work Saturday for this, I've got nothing else going on today,’ you admitted since there was a very good chance he didn't even remember going to the store with how out of it he was. ‘Oh, that reminds me-’ You grabbed the bag you'd moved to the counter when you cleaned, and he watched you go in a relaxed silence until he saw you pull out what you'd brought him. ‘You nearly left these at the checkout so I wanted to make sure- what's wrong?’

‘Can you forg- it's nothing, thank you, I'll pay you back,’ he said dismissively, nervously, his eyes anywhere but on you or perhaps the items as you frowned and set them down. 

‘It's fine, don't worry about it,’ you replied as you went to join him again, but something had changed, and he now seemed aware that you were in his house, that you were surrounded by the mazes he'd drawn all over the walls. ‘Hey, I may not know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me, but at least for today will you let me finish taking care of you?’ you asked with a small smile, and he looked behind you before deciding that yes, he'd actually like that, his own forced smile mirroring yours before it turned into something soft and genuine.

You liked this smile a lot more you also decided as you got back to your soup, Bob watching you eat before joining you on the floor. His posture was a lot more relaxed than you'd ever seen before as he finished off his second bowl and went for thirds to your delight, and when his fever came back a bit later, he actually allowed you to let him lay his head in your lap while you dabbed at his forehead. 

You didn't know if he'd ever tell you about the mazes, or the room, or why he'd reacted so strongly to you today, but you could be patient with him as you brushed his hair out of the way, his eyes closing as he fell back into an easy sleep in the safety of your arms, the crisp smell of fall and the hearty scent of the soup filling his empty house and making it feel a little more like a home.

[amalthea-felsblood]

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Name ◦ Marian Varlineau

✦Nicknames✦

Mari ◦ Only people she's close with can call her this. *trust don't try it.

MarMar ◦ The orphan children of Ishgard call her this; she considers them all her own.

Roaring Wind ◦ Given to her by her father, Strong Wave *she was a force to be reckoned with as a child.

Age ◦ 35

Nameday ◦ 10th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race ◦ Hyur

Gender ◦ Female she/they

Orientation ◦ Pan

Profession ◦ Ishgardian Knight/The Blood Dragoon, Blacksmith/Goldsmith in training

✦Physical Aspects✦

Hair ∘ Raven black at birth but is now drained to grey and blue from plunging into the void far too often.

Eyes ∘ Blue at birth also drained to gray; her eyesight wasn't affected.

Skin ∘ Fair-skinned at birth, drained to more of that of a corpse.

Tattoos/Scars ∘ No tattoos, but her body holds many scars, cuts from blades to deep bites marks from fiends.

✦Family✦

Strong Wave Father, former Limsa guardsmen 

Currently ∘ Alive and enjoying retirement as a fisherman.

Ovort Drudaut Father, former Ishgardian chocobo trainer

Currently ∘ Alive and is also enjoying retirement with his beloved.

Siblings ∘ None to speak of.

Grandparents ∘ Her parents spoke of them but never had the urge to ever go see them.

✦In-laws and Others✦

Alberic Bale Estinien's adoptive father and mentor. When Marian is on patrol, she always takes the time to visit him. She keeps him informed about Estinien, so he'll never have to worry.

Gethwine Cherrier She was an elderly neighbor to her parents when they had a home in Ul'dah together. When Marian was a baby, she was left on her doorstep. Her parents stepped in, noticing Mrs.Cherrier struggling to care for Marian on her own, and they've loved her as their own ever since.

Pets ∘ None at the moment, but she has an affinity for birds.

✦Skills✦

Ground lancer ∘ Strong thrusts and stabs

Aerial lancer/Dragoon ∘ High jumps and piercing

Hunter ∘ Be it man or fiend, she will find it.

Hobbies ∘ Learning Ishgardian customs and cuisines, keeping gear and weapons maintained, growing flowers, and making toys for children.

✦Traits✦

Most Positive Trait ∘ Determination No matter how hopeless something may seem, she will go on, even if it means her end.

Most Negative Trait ∘ Self-righteousness She will sometimes put herself upon a pedestal, only to be humbled later. *she never learns.

✦Likes✦

Colors ∘ Dusty blue, blood red, black, royal blue

Smells ∘ Mountain air, seaside, patchouli, smoke, old steel, dried blood

Textures ∘ Flower petals, cold steel, rough leather, silk sheets

Drinks ∘ Hot chocolate and any strong ales or wines

✦Other Details✦

Smokes ∘ When stressed or traveling, she will use the kiseru.

Drinks ∘ Heavily *she doesn't want to talk about it.

Drugs ∘ She messed around with a few things in her youth, but nothing crazy.

Mount Issuance ∘ Lir is her faithful chocobo, and since her father was a skilled chocobo trainer, he became her mentor, sharing with her all the secrets for the perfect bond.

Been Arrested ∘ Yes, penalty of tavern fights. *she never starts it; she only finishes it.

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Thank you for tagging me @ubejamjar@avampyone@idalenn ❤

@starrysnowdrop@notarchonzachlol@izayoiri@captainqster@damian-elero@madalyn-maeve

Please feel free to make one!

[whereonceiwasfire]

Landing Zone

Figured it was about time I finally did one of these, so hey, hi, hello, I'm Rees (a.k.a. WhereOnceIWasFire). You can find some general info about me, and a masterlist of fics in this post!

GENERAL

Any pronouns

I write fic (masterlist below the cut)

My brain has been chemically altered by: Danny Phantom and DBZ (though I typically keep Dragonball posts to my sideblog)

My DMs/inbox are open! Send me things, I'm friendly, I swear!

I'm always open to prompt requests (though I don't do crossovers). Feel free to leave me something in my ask box, and I'll get to it when I have a chance/if it sparks an idea!

FICS

(tags can be found on ao3)

Finished Fics:

Overshadowed - Long ass (140K) College AU, No One Knows, heavy angst, mystery w/ horror elements, mostly happy ending, but I also left it a bit open/ambiguous. I MIGHT write a sequel one day. Everything's Fine (And the Boss is Totally Not a Cryptid) - Outsider POV, intern gets hired at Vlad Co., shenanigans ensue. Oh so many Dracula references. H(a)unted - Weird, angsty little Ghost Hunter Danny AU. Separate Danny and Phantom. ALT ending. I have some ideas percolating to continue off the alternate ending. The Hazards of Being Hot High AF - Shippy Popular Psychology (Jazz/Dash) oneshot I found in my fics folder. Jazz visits Dash in the hospital after a football injury. Elementary, My Dear Fenton - Ecto-Implosion fic. A goofy comedy-mystery where Danny and the trio try to track down who left an anonymous gift in his locker. They get WAY too into it.

WIPs:

Not So Bitter Reunions - AU, canon divergence, badger cereal. The college reunion goes decidedly less off the rails than in canon, leading to some nefarious consequences. I'm just kind of vibing with this one. High School's a Beach - **AGIT SPOILERS** Dan's in high school. This one is so very unserious, but I think I've got a few more chapters left in me. Needs Must (When the Devil Drives) - Canon divergence. AU. Vlad and Harriet reconnect at the college reunion, but since Vlad's technically an evil spirit, he's adversely impacted by things like salt, windchimes, running water, etc. Bad News (Vlad/Harriet) shipfic. I just...I think they're neat. Bearer of Bad News - Post Phantom Planet (not AGIT compliant). Bad News fic because I have an illness and these two live in my head rent free. The GIW enlist Harriet's help in preventing Ghost King Danny from destroying the earth.

Drabbles/Ficlets:

DannyMay 2022 - I don't remember any of these being particularly good, but they do exist. I very much did not last the entire month. Drabble Dump from Tumblr asks - this is just what it sounds like. Though, in general, I'll probably start trying to post oneshots and/or collect the separate, individual Tumblr ask ficlets on this post now instead of just clumping them in a drabble dump on ao3. Monsters Don't Exist - horror vibes. AU. Vlad didn't peace out after the accident and he's keeping his enemies (Maddie and Jack) close. Jazz suspects their babysitter, Uncle Vlad, is more dangerous than everyone else in the family seems to think. Cheese Melt ficlet - Outsider POV. Dani has a parent-teacher interview. Cheese Melt ficlet #2 - Dani doesn't like the toy she got at Nasty Burger. Vlad gets her a new one. Badger cereal ficlet - No one knows AU. Danny works as a cashier and Vlad accidentally outs his supervillain indetity by infodumping to him when Danny makes idle customer-servicey smalltalk.

Unwritten/Unposted:

I'm not going to list out all my filenames and ideas, don't worry lol. But I do have a couple (*cough* couple hundred *cough*) ideas percolating or half written in my fics folder, so that is a thing. I want to jump on WIP Wednesday and such, but like. IDK. Feel free to ask/harass me about my unposted WIPs too, I am motivated by peer pressure.

[dbl07]

What Are the Best Liquidation Pallets to Buy?

What Are the Best Liquidation Pallets to Buy? Are you in pursuit of unbeatable deals and hidden treasures? Smart shoppers understand that liquidation pallets offer incredible opportunities for savings, stocked with goods from top retailers ready for a thrift-conscious transformation. Thrift is an art form. Savvy enthusiasts know the secret lies in the selection process, and that’s why The Bin Store stands out as a veritable gold mine for those in the know, consistently offering the best liquidation pallets on the market today. Unpacking Liquidation Pallets Diving into the world of liquidation pallets is like embarking on a treasure hunt where savvy thrifters can strike gold. These pallets come loaded with a variety of merchandise, often from major retailers that have surplus, customer returns, or seasonal items. At The Bin Store, every pallet is meticulously curated, providing an assortment of products that could include everything from electronics and apparel to home goods and toys. As a bargain hunter, the excitement lies in the possibility of uncovering high-value items at a fraction of their retail cost, ensuring that each purchase is not just a transaction, but a strategic investment in savings. Definition and Benefits Liquidation pallets are economically advantageous bulks of surplus goods, often from prominent retailers, sold at significantly reduced prices. Thrifty seekers reap immense savings, finding delights from electronics to homewares. In essence, purchasing liquidation pallets is investing in potential. It involves acquiring a multitude of items at once, which can be treasures waiting to be discovered, especially when sourced from The Bin Store. Liquidation pallets harbor high-value items at unparalleled prices. Value hunters and thrift connoisseurs: liquidation pallets are your avenue to premium products for less. Engage in the thrill of uncover-seeking products whose worth far exceeds the investment, all within The Bin Store's curated offerings. How to Identify Value Savvy thrift shopping hinges on recognizing the worth within liquidation pallets. - Inspect Brands and Categories: Premium brands and desirable categories often indicate higher resale value. - Examine Product Condition: New or like-new items promise greater savings and appeal for future sales. - Research Retail Prices: Knowing the actual retail value helps gauge potential profit margins. - Consider Market Demand: Items in high demand can sell quickly, increasing their value on the second-hand market. - Estimate Quantity and Quality: Larger quantities of quality items amplify value in liquidation purchases.Critical examination differentiates between mere products and valuable finds. The mastery of these elements elevates your thrift shopping from a simple pastime to a strategic endeavor. Best Categories for Liquidation Buys When delving into the realm of liquidation pallets, it's prudent to focus on high-demand and evergreen product categories. These are typically consumer electronics, home goods, and apparel. These categories promise a consistent market need, ensuring a fluid cycle of merchandise that resonates with customers across diverse demographics, resulting in potential repeat sales and robust profit margins. In fashioning your purchasing strategy, prioritize liquidation pallets featuring seasonal items as well. Holiday decorations, summer accessories, and winter gear hold a time-sensitive allure that can lead to quick inventory turnover. By staying attuned to seasonal trends and timing your purchases wisely, you can capitalize on the periodic nature of consumer interest, optimizing your inventory to meet the shifting currents of retail demand. Electronics and Gadgets Electronics and gadgets are perennial hot sellers, and their value remains relatively high even when liquidated. - Smartphones & Tablets: High demand in both new and used markets. - Laptops & Computers: Essential for work and play, often sought after by bargain hunters. - Smart Home Devices: Increasingly popular for tech-savvy homeowners. - Gaming Consoles & Accessories: A passionate consumer base ensures quick turnover. - Wearable Tech: Fitness trackers and smartwatches appeal to health-conscious consumers. For the thrifty tech enthusiast, liquidation pallets in this category can be a goldmine. Navigating the complex landscape of electronics liquidation requires an informed approach, ensuring you net quality items along with the best value. Apparel and Accessories Fashion's cyclical nature makes apparel and accessories a dynamic liquidation category. Its sensitivity to seasonal vacillations is key to snapping up coveted items. The bin store ecosystem thrives by offering a diverse range of clothing and accessories. Here, savvy shoppers find everything from branded overstock and shelf-pulls to returns and irregulars. These goods reflect the latest trends, allowing for a constantly renewed inventory that aligns with consumer desires—ranging from high-end designer labels to everyday wearables. Sourcing these items from liquidation pallets means unlocking tremendous value for both personal wardrobes and resale ventures. Moreover, apparel and accessories tend to sustain a broad appeal due to their inherent usability. Unlike certain niches, clothing items and fashion accessories cater to a vast demographic, ensuring that there's something for everyone. From vintage aficionados to those seeking the latest fashion, these pallets deliver diversity and the thrill of discovery that keeps customers coming back. For those eyeing the apparel sector, liquidation pallets offer an enticing entry point. Not only do they allow for a cost-effective stockpile of trendy pieces, but they also provide an avenue for businesses and individuals to access brand names and trendy items at a fraction of their retail price. By sourcing clothing and accessories through liquidation, you hit the sweet spot of fashion-forward thinking and economic savvy, making it possible to offer competitive pricing while still enjoying healthy margins. Home Goods and Appliances Sprucing up your space with quality home goods and appliances doesn't mean breaking the bank. In fact, with the right liquidation pallet, a savvy shopper can score incredible finds. Liquidation pallets are treasure troves for home improvement. They're packed with items from overstock, returns, or seasonal closeouts. Often, these pallets include brand-new or barely used products. When retailers overhaul inventory, items like blenders, toasters, and coffee makers find their way into liquidation. Imagine finding top-tier kitchen gadgets or that perfect accent lamp at a fraction of the retail cost. These are common finds within home goods liquidation pallets, offering both function and style for the discerning bargain hunter. Home goods pallets cater to those looking to elevate their living spaces affordably, often featuring a variety of decor options from rugs to curtain sets that turn a house into a home without the hefty price tag. Indeed, the Bin Store is your portal to these home improver's dream deals. Premium home goods and appliances await at prices that align with even the thriftiest of shopping budgets. Navigating Online Liquidation Platforms When exploring online liquidation platforms, it's essential to familiarize yourself with their operational paradigms, which could vary significantly. Some platforms operate on a bidding system, while others offer "Buy It Now" convenience. Recognizing these nuances ensures that you approach each potential purchase with the right strategy and expectations, maximizing your odds of securing the best deals. In this digital hunt for savings, a clear understanding of shipping policies and handling fees becomes paramount. While scouring for liquidation pallets, vet the source to confirm its credibility and customer service track record. Consider the total cost after adding any additional fees to ascertain if the deal remains advantageous. A meticulous approach to these online liquidation platforms can lead to substantial bargains on a diverse array of products, from home essentials to tech gadgets. Comparison of Top Sites In the realm of liquidation pallet shopping, specific platforms stand out for their reliability and product range. - The Bin Store: Unrivaled for direct liquidation sales with a transparent purchasing process. - Liquidation.com: A reputable auction-based platform offering wide-ranging product categories. - Bulk.com: Convenient for those seeking smaller lots without the commitment to full pallets. - Direct Liquidation: Partnered with renowned retailers for high-quality, overstock goods. - B-Stock: Provides a marketplace directly linking buyers to major retailers' excess inventory. It's crucial to weigh site-specific benefits against their shipping and handling policies. Each platform carries its own set of advantages, requiring a discerning eye to maximize value. FAQ About Bulk Lots Q: What are bulk lots? A: Bulk lots refer to large quantities of items that are sold together as a single unit. These lots are often sold at a discounted price compared to buying individual items. Q: What types of items can be found in bulk lots? A: Bulk lots can include a wide range of items, such as clothing, electronics, home goods, toys, and more. The specific items available in bulk lots can vary depending on the seller and the inventory they have. Q: Why should I consider buying bulk lots? A: Buying bulk lots can be beneficial for several reasons. Firstly, it allows you to purchase a large quantity of items at a lower cost per unit, which can result in significant savings. Additionally, bulk lots can be a great option for resellers or businesses looking to stock up on inventory. Q: Where can I find bulk lots for sale? A: There are various places where you can find bulk lots for sale, including online marketplaces, wholesale suppliers, liquidation auctions, and specialized bulk lot retailers like The Bin Store. Q: Are bulk lots suitable for individual consumers? A: Yes, bulk lots can be suitable for individual consumers as well. If you are someone who enjoys bargain hunting or wants to stock up on certain items, buying bulk lots can be a cost-effective option. However, it's important to consider your needs and storage capacity before purchasing bulk lots. Q: How do I choose the right bulk lot to buy? A: When choosing a bulk lot to buy, consider factors such as the condition of the items, the variety of items included, the price, and the reputation of the seller. It's also helpful to have a clear understanding of your needs and preferences to ensure that the bulk lot aligns with your requirements. Q: Can I return or exchange items from a bulk lot? A: The return or exchange policy for items in a bulk lot can vary depending on the seller. It's advisable to check the seller's return policy before making a purchase. Some sellers may offer returns or exchanges within a certain timeframe, while others may have a no-return policy for bulk lots. Q: Are there any risks involved in buying bulk lots? A: As with any purchase, there are some risks involved in buying bulk lots. It's important to research the seller, read reviews, and understand the terms and conditions of the sale. Additionally, there may be a possibility of receiving damaged or defective items in a bulk lot, so it's important to factor in these risks before making a purchase. Q: Can I negotiate the price of a bulk lot? A: In some cases, it may be possible to negotiate the price of a bulk lot, especially if you are buying from a wholesale supplier or directly from the seller. However, not all sellers may be open to negotiation, particularly if the bulk lot is already priced competitively. Q: Is there a minimum order quantity for bulk lots? A: The minimum order quantity for bulk lots can vary depending on the seller and the specific lot. Some sellers may have a minimum order requirement, while others may allow you to purchase smaller quantities. It's best to check with the seller or retailer for their specific requirements. If you have any further questions about bulk lots, feel free to reach out to us at The Bin Store. We're here to help! Tips for Successful Purchasing Research is paramount; understand the types of liquidation goods a platform offers before diving in. With an array of platforms at your disposal, compare their offerings closely; not all liquidation sales are equal in value. Prior to committing to a purchase, examine the manifest carefully; it details the specific items in the pallet, helping to avoid surprises. Keep a keen eye on shipping costs, as they can significantly impact the overall savings of your liquidation pallet purchase. Lastly, engage with the liquidation community; fellow bargin hunters offer invaluable insights and can bolster your buying strategy. Maximizing Profits from Liquidation Pallets Savvy shoppers prioritize high-demand items within pallets to ensure quick and lucrative turnovers. When investing in a liquidation pallet, consider both the seasonality and market trends; targeting your buys to align with consumer demands maximizes potential profits. Always calculate potential return on investment (ROI) before committing to ensure the pallet's contents offer substantial margins. Resale Strategies Harness the power of online marketplaces. When diving into reselling items from liquidation pallets, it's crucial to understand the digital landscape. Leveraging platforms like eBay, Amazon, or Facebook Marketplace offers accessible channels for reaching a wide audience. These marketplaces have vast user bases, ready-to-use formats, and systems that facilitate payments and customer feedback, which are instrumental in establishing trust and streamlining sales. Niche specialization can drive sales. While broad marketplaces are invaluable, there's a significant advantage in serving niche markets. Specialty forums or websites dedicated to particular interests or product categories often attract passionate buyers willing to pay premium prices for items they deem valuable or rare. These niche channels can prove extremely lucrative and can create loyal customer bases. Adopt a customer-first approach. Building a strong reputation is central to a successful resale business. Offer excellent customer service, accurate item descriptions, and transparent policies. Prioritizing customer satisfaction leads to repeat business and positive reviews, which are vital in attracting more buyers. Stay updated with market trends. To remain competitive and maximize profitability, it's essential to keep abreast of the latest market trends and customer preferences. Attend trade shows, subscribe to industry publications, and engage with online communities to stay informed. Regularly updating your offerings and approaches ensures that your business evolves along with market demands and maintains relevance in a constantly shifting marketplace. Understanding Market Demand Recognize prevailing trends. In the dynamic landscape of retail liquidation, discerning which products are in high demand is crucial for securing transactions that garner substantial returns. Thrift shoppers are often searching for specific items that align with current trends or personal needs. Factor in regional popularity. Moreover, it's essential to understand that demand can be highly regional. A product that flies off the shelves in one area may languish in another. This is due to a multitude of factors, including local preferences, seasonal demands, and economic conditions. Tailoring your purchases accordingly can increase the likelihood of rapid sales and high customer satisfaction. Consider seasonality and events. Additionally, market demand isn't static—it fluctuates with seasonality and upcoming events. Inventory that correlates with upcoming holidays, seasons, or cultural events is more likely to be sought-after. Tracking these cycles can help in curating a batch of goods that aligns with imminent consumer enthusiasm. Capitalize on brand consciousness. Lastly, brand consciousness significantly influences the choices of many consumers. High-quality, well-known brands tend to maintain their value and are often quickly snapped up by savvy buyers. Understanding which brands hold sway in the liquidation market can tip the scales in your favor, ensuring that you invest in pallets with strong resale potential suited to discerning thrift shoppers. Is buying liquidation pallets worth it? Buying liquidation pallets can be a worthwhile venture for thrift shoppers and bargain hunters. These pallets often contain a wide variety of items that have been overstocked, returned, or discontinued by retailers. By purchasing these pallets, you have the opportunity to find valuable and unique items at significantly discounted prices. When buying liquidation pallets, it's important to carefully consider factors such as the condition of the items and the reputation of the seller. While the items may be brand new or lightly used, there is also a chance that some items may be damaged or have missing parts. It's a good idea to research the seller and read customer reviews to ensure you are buying from a reputable source. One of the benefits of buying liquidation pallets is the potential for high returns on investment. Since the pallets are sold at a fraction of their retail value, you have the opportunity to resell the items individually or in bulk for a profit. This can be a great option for those who have an eye for spotting valuable items and the ability to market and sell them effectively. However, it's important to note that buying liquidation pallets can also come with risks. The items in the pallets are often sold as-is, with no guarantee or warranty, so you need to be prepared for the possibility of receiving items that are damaged or not in working condition. Additionally, not all liquidation pallets will contain high-value items or items that are in demand, so there is some element of uncertainty involved. In conclusion, buying liquidation pallets can be a worthwhile venture for those who are willing to do their research and take calculated risks. It provides an opportunity to find valuable items at discounted prices and potentially make a profit through resale. However, it's important to approach the process with caution and carefully assess the condition of the items and the credibility of the seller.When it comes to finding the best liquidation company to buy from, it can be a difficult task. There are numerous options available, but not all companies are created equal in terms of quality and reliability. In recent years, one company that has stood out in the liquidation market is The Bin Store is the best place to buy liquidation wholesale pallets. Liquidators. The Bin Store Liquidators has quickly gained a reputation for providing top-notch products and excellent customer service. Their wide selection of merchandise, ranging from electronics to clothing, ensures that there is something for everyone. One of the key reasons why The Bin Store is considered one of the best in the industry is their commitment to quality control. Each item undergoes thorough inspection to ensure that customers receive goods that are in working condition and free from significant defects. This dedication to quality sets them apart from other liquidation companies. Additionally, The Bin Store offers competitive pricing, making it an attractive option for bargain hunters. With their extensive network and buying power, they are able to negotiate great deals and pass the savings onto customers. This allows shoppers to get high-quality products at discounted prices, making their shopping experience even more rewarding. Read the full article

[thedarkmistress16]

My pitch for a future Sims game (5, 6, whatever) that is a proper sequel to 3 but better

or, what sims 4 should have done logically, if I want to be petty about it this is a long ride buckle the fuck in

Simply take what 3 did for base game and condense it a bit, but add more mechanics in other areas for a more well-rounded base game that is a clear love letter to Sims 3, with a focus on the optimization of gameplay.

Talkin' open world, but keep it mostly the same. Have decent gameplay for babies and toddlers, alongside pools, hot tubs, and other basic things that sims 4 did not include on launch but every other Sims game beforehand did in THEIR base (yes I will always hold this against them).

Include seasons, pets, occult sims (aliens, ghosts, zombies, and vampires), a very vanilla high school and community college system, and one vacation/travel lot AT LEAST. Have these features with extremely basic systems that work fine as is, and leave the more in-depth features for future expansions that justify the price point. Do not replace those systems upon said expansion, but rather build upon them further in a meaningful way and add new features that complement the pack's focus.

Example: Make an education pack that focuses on not just including forms of higher degree types like masters, doctorates, and certifications with an importance for major and minor declaration for a new university world, but also creating a preschool and/or kindergarten system, and a middle/junior school one. Maybe have them act as rabbit holes that family members or guardians need to drop the youngins at and have them learn additional skills, make friends, or improve their mood while they're there like a regular, older Sim does at school. Maybe the kids can bring things for a "show and tell" assignment one day and bring home pictures they've drawn or a toy they've swiped on others (for the klepto enthusiasts). Have public and private schools (elementary and up) differ in discipline methods, event messages, and usage of uniforms. Also include a homeschooling option and, in general, have the institutions declare a "wacky hat day" or "wear this color day" to just make things more lively.

For careers, let Sims have internships either offered by an institution they attend or the career path/field they're in or apply for. Varieties on payment, scheduling, and location can make each field's internship more diverse, especially so when based around the current Sim applicant's qualifications of skill level, income, scheduling, and traits. Would be neat to have jobs that may ask a Sim to relocate, not unlike WA's traveling opportunities. Thinking for Fashion, Business, and Reviewer careers to name a few.

Have birds and rabbits behave like cats and dogs mainly do now for pet expansions- to have four main and common household pet options (instead of two or three) that have the ability to be trained and interacted with more in general (I understand horses may not be included ever again and I love them in 3 but I am fine with not having them here despite that horses are fucking great-). Depending on the pet's personality traits, they can react very differently to other animal species in the same household, such as giving a cat a predator trait living with a bird and causing the feline to act more hostile and aggressively toward said bird when in close proximity. Maybe have traits that pit cats and dogs against each other as well, such as dogs having a moodlet to "chase a cat up a tree" or something to that effect. Even further, perhaps include special traits like Sims 4's aspiration traits in CAS but for specific breeds in this Sims 3 sequel like a history of hunters or intelligence or show business. And if creating a custom breed of animal, you have the freedom to choose that special trait for yourself and start a new breed heritage of that pet.

STORY MODE. You're a liar if you don't miss the hell and chaos that is playing through the first Sims games like Sims 1, Bustin Out, Urbz, 2, and Sims 2 Castaway on console and the Sims 2 Stories and Sims Medieval on PC. Simply having the option for story mode makes a Sims game feel more robust and complete, giving players more to do after fucking around in freeplay for a while or are lost amiss the abundance of features at their disposal. Catching a robber then unlocking their career was so fucking cool. Traveling to various lots and getting to know existing Sim relationships, personal journeys, and plights helps get the creative juices flowing for freeplay, too. Trying to juggle a job, numerous relationships, skills, and needs was fucking hell in early Sim game story modes (without cheats. otherwise, what's the point?), but so fucking rewarding when you do complete it. Bonus points for including Sim family mainstays like the Landgrabbs or Goths, even for a small cameo.

Bring back the color wheel OR use a single color for each channel and edit that with tone/saturation/transparency sliders. THERE IS NO ACCEPTABLE IN-BETWEEN HERE SO GET THOSE DEMON SWATCHES OUT OF MY FACE (wheel for pet CAS, swatches and sliders for CAS but only swatches for build/buy mode? wtf EA pick one. no wonder S4 is such a nightmare).

Please for the love of everything make an Island Paradise pack work with the hotels, scuba diving, and mermaids with better houseboat placement and optimization. Bonus fun thing: Add some Atlantis or any lost underwater city lore for high-level divers to find in the most dangerous diving locations. maybe have them swim into a pocket of water filled with ancient relics or creatures that existed years ago like narwhales or make llama/unicorn seahorses, i dunno. Maybe a nod to the lore in Sims 2 Castaway or Sims 2 Castaway Stories. Something fun and ocean-themed to add onto the fun of exploring in the pack. And adding more lore never hurts.

For Sim birthdays, let's make their likes and dislikes, and favorite things they enjoy have more meaning than just a description in their bio or briefly mentioned in the message/notif box during convos. Have a variety of different cake flavors, colors, and candle toppers to choose from, as well as decorate the home with streamers, balloons, and banners. Have these be various color schemes and designs, but also of themes like royalty, galaxy, dinos, gaming, mythical creatures/magic, aliens, wild west, carnival, pirates, superhero, underwater, vehicles, gothic, seasons, holidays (for the "my birthday lands next to/on a holiday" peeps), and some sim mascots like freezer bunny and tragic clown, to name a few. Have Sims be able to pick their favorite and disliked or hated things, either discovered through gameplay or chosen in CAS. And have objects that are meant to be gifted to the birthday Sim have choices in wrapping color, designs, and extravagance (simple. plain wrapping, themed, with all the bells and whistles). Have the option to gift coupons and gift cards too, lol. This would give players the opportunity to make each birthday of a Sim be either their best day ever, surrounded by their favorite things and feeling loved, or the absolute worst one of their lives and planned utterly and completely wrong (having an upset or angry moodlet, depending on their traits). Even if there's little to sparse decorating or the cake is the only thing they like, they can still have a tiny moodlet boost for the ones that don't like big celebrations on their birthday but can still get something nice out of it. Grant them a greater moodlet bonus when they partake in things they enjoy or hate doing on their birthday (in Sims 3 terms, like an additional +5 or +10 increase to a base reaction to something they already like doing or hate, such as enjoying being alone even more than normal or hating the outdoors would worsen their mood when they stay outside longer that day). If too robust to code, acceptable to make into a pack that expands upon families or as a smaller pack with just this birthday mechanic in place as the selling point but a basic likes and dislikes system in place for base game. Birthdays functioning akin to a Sims 2 PC event or as a candle interaction with optional party set-up in Sims 3/4 would depend on the coding requirements.

Other Fun Packs to Include:

A Wild West/Cowboy/Native American expansion pack. I haven't seen this theme done since Sims 2 console and a bit of SIms 3 (but in Pets it's more ranch than anything) and I wanna see more of it. Give me a world with a dedicated museum, historical plots of land, a cheesy Indian-themed casino, some colonial aesthetics, and half-de-commissioned, worn railroad tracks placed somewhere in the map. Gives me an excuse to see a dumb Woody costume in there, too. Maybe add horses here! A southern style of architecture on the buildings and homes would be neat to see here, too.

Make a Superhero pack. Maybe combine it with an "Into the Future-esque" pack or something where a sim's genetics can be altered to have superpowers like increased strength = faster athletic/gymnastics skill build rate or crazier muscle definition. Or higher stamina = less energy depletion. Just simple things that the reward system does for achievements. Oh and not to mention the ability to fly, shapeshift, and control elements!!!?!!?? Like regular occult such as vampires already and have been doing for years?? How have superpowers not been a pack yet?!? (Movie Stuff doesn't count) Perhaps include a heroic and villainous progression system/tree that grants certain rewards when deeds of a good or bad alignment have been done, making evil and good trait Sims more important and possibly affecting the time stream as well if still merged with a time-jumping pack. By extension, throw in angels and demons as llamas because of the alignment scale PLUS the canon of Sims praying to or being derived from llama people will never NOT be the funniest Sim lore I have ever encountered and it would be really fun to see at like, high superhero levels a Sim can achieve. Would give a chance to poke at the player for being god or something too, like Medivial does. I want some actual Sim mutants in my game, not just cosmetic look-alikes, lol.

Have a Master Suite pack combined with Wicked Whims, lol. But seriously, give us more juicy, dramatic, and sweet interactions that Sims can do with others romantically like polygamy relationships, an escort career system, periods and ovulations, couple therapy sessions, more sex skills, etc. Let a Sim's orientation, sexuality, and preferences affect how other Sims engage with them like how compatible and incompatible traits react upon discovery, on top of including them in general. Let me see the chaos or harmony a Sim polycule will bring. Or an anime-inspired harem ripe with jealousy. Make the SIms adult again guys tf, lol.

Do a Fast Lane pack but INCLUDE A RACECAR DRIVER CAREER plus an auto mechanic/detailing/manufacturing, tow truck driver, and delivery driver (warehouse or fast food) careers and part-time jobs. Would or would not lead to Sims dying more race-wise but this franchise is all about wacky deaths so might as well (that was a wacky races reference btw). Damn hold up we've had helicopters and yachts for cutscenes and rabbit hole travel since Sims 1 and 2 and Urbz and Castaway and like, none after that? Fuck include skydivers, pilots, stewardesses, security detail, luggage carriers, flight instructors as job titles in the plane field, and actual airports while we're at it. Taxi to that airport and then rabbit hole to your destination. This could've easily been an expansion pack istg-

How about more rollercoasters? And water parks and carnivals and state fairs and big tops? Do a whole pack about this theme park aesthetic and give adrenaline junkie or fear of heights and from funnel cake to BBQ lover or sensitive stomach traits. How about being able to take pictures of little kids on the slow spinning rides for the family members and include the long wait time and rigged game negative moodlets and the worth the wait and exhilarating ride positive ones. Let Sims gorge on peanuts under the big top and see the elephants or have a clown completely ruin their day at the theme park because they have a hate clowns trait or a prior nightmare experience. Have their level of activeness-laziness and playfulness-seriousness affect how they react to riding a coaster of different twists, turns, loops, and speeds, if possible.

(Not a pack but an extension of the above with coasters used as an example:) Also include the possibility to die on a coaster or other event, or perhaps let certain memories stick with Sims like next to someone who died or survived a crash and have that prevent that sim from autonomously doing and refusing to go on any roller coaster again or a specific coaster/action forever or for a really long time, having that lessened with optional and continuous therapy sessions. Give my Sims traumatic experiences that block them from doing certain actions and, when cheated to do them or have their memory intensity lessened enough to do that action again, have a higher risk of actually having that fear come true, greatly decreasing the effect the memory has on them, or completely getting over their fear depending on the level of intensity the traumatic memory has on that Sim at that time, on top of personality traits like Un/Lucky and general world chance variables within the world's coding.

[lollytea]

Mcdonalds!Hunter: Does your kid want a hot wheels or Barbie toy with their happy meal?

Customer: It's for boy.

Mcdonalds!Hunter who does not understand what that means or why customers keep saying it to him: Fantastic. Hot wheels or Barbie?

Customer: I want a boy toy.

Mcdonalds!Hunter who has gotten 2 hours of sleep last night and is seriously running out of patience: This is not the establishment for that kind of thing. Let's stay on topic, shall we? Hot wheels or Barbie?

[faithwalkcreationscloneart]

I just added Tech to my Hot Toys Sixth Scale Bad Batch (and Rex) collection. I also did 3D custom printed heads for Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair. Waiting on ones for Echo and Rex to arrive. I like my guys to look screen accurate!

[heavenbarnes]

when it’s that time of night

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, fully clothed sex, implied age gap, canon-typical spookiness

Word Count: 3.4k

i finally finished stranger things and i’m just as hot for hawkins chief of police as i was when i started, so here we are x

Gathered around Joyce Byers' kitchen table, your gaze flickered between the comotion unfolding in front of you, and Hopper. Things had undeniably changed since that evening, and those same things had only seemed to get, well, stranger. A silly part of you hoped that if you glared at him hard enough, things would start to become clear.

"I wouldn't normally do this, but you're about one of the only people I can trust."

Jim stood on your doorstep with three of the neighborhood kids, and one young girl you'd not seen before. This was not something you anticipated when you started seeing Hopper, but nevertheless, you stepped aside and let them in.

Maybe that was why he had brought them hear, because it was in your nature to care more about their safety than what made sense. You let the kids have your TV remote and flick through your records, before you turned back to Hopper with a kind of expression that said "you do this with all the girls that let you sleepover?"

And after that, in all hushed tones in your very small kitchen, Jim divulged tales of disappearing children and ones that could move things with their mind.

"I just need you to keep them safe for a few hours, then I'll explain even more."

As much as he did explain, you felt like the more you saw and heard, the less you knew. Listening to these kids, try to tell you that Joyce's son had been kidnapped by the monster from their boardgame? You felt like you needed to lay down a while.

Your skills ranged from serving diner meals on rollerskates, and driving the neighborhood boys crazy in the process. You weren't sure how you'd fear as a monster hunter. Young Jonathan Byers snapped you from your thoughts by throwing a theory out to the group.

"So for us to strike whilst the iron is hottest, we'd just need to know when it will all start happening again?" 

Everyone murmured in agreement but Hopper wasn't having it.

"Ok, so when exactly would that be? Are you going to tell me there is just a time that these things are all going to kick off?"

Your ears pricked up and suddenly your mouth was opening before your brain could catch it.

"Three in the morning." That had everyone's eyes on you.

Not used to hearing you join in on these things, Hopper prompted you to carry on.

You pushed up off the wall you were leaning against and spoke again. "Three in the morning, the witching hour."

"What is the witching hour?" Jonathan pressed you further.

"My Grandmother used to tell me about it, in folklore they say that three in the morning is the witching hour." You stepped further towards the table where they had all congregated.

"It's when the veil between this part of the world," One of your hands lay flat beneath your chin, whilst the other lay palm turned up in line with your belly "And this part of the world,"

"Like Australia?" Dustin questioned, receiving a smack in the arm from Mike.

"No, like the underworld or what you guys call the upside down, it's when the veil between the two is at it's thinnest allowing the unforgiving to travel through."

They all looked from each other and back to you, beginning to fear that you might be onto something.

"Believe me, I work in a 24-hour diner, if things are going to get strange it's going to be at three in the morning."

"What kind of strange?" Joyce spun round at that comment, a sort of pleading in her eyes.

"The lights will pulse, and the machines will start to get these electricity surges, I hate working the nights in there." The look she gave you began to prick the hairs on the back of your neck. "Why are you looking like I've just laid the last piece in your puzzle?"

"Because I think you just have."

Ever since you spoke the witching hour theory into existence, you hadn't been able to get it off your mind. That very next day, your boss called the house and told you that you'd be on the night shift, and Veronica's kid had mono so you'd be doing it alone.

Something told you that you'd made a mistake speaking it outloud, that now this- well whatever this was, but now that it knew you knew it's secrets, it was onto you. However that could've all been crazy, and maybe Hawkins was getting lazy with it's electrical and it just got screwy when they thought everyone was sleeping.

Regardless, it was now 1.41am and there wasn't a customer in sight. It was just you, the empty diner, and the fast approaching witching hour. For the first time in your life, you actually wished one of the town's teenage boys would come in and hound your for a date, just so you had some company.

You resorted to wiping down the counter for about the 30th time that night, a spot of mess at the one of the back booths catching your eye. Leaving the counter, you roller-skated down the back of the store and cleaned up the leftover baskets and napkins. You were bent over the table, flicking the the cloth over the surface when you heard it. The bell on the door.

Your blood rain cold and just about every hair on your body stood on end. An unexplainable feeling drifted over you, that feeling when you know it's all gone wrong, but there just isn't anything you can do about it. That feeling enveloped you and it took over you, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn your head.

Heavy, heavy steps were heading your way and you knew it was do or die. You could try shoot the gap to the backroom, that or beat whatever it was with your bare hands. As it got closer you geared up all your strength and spun around on your skate in an instant.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING-"

"GOD, PUT YOUR ARMS DOWN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Hopper gripped your wrists and stilled you moments before you lay your fists in his eye sockets. Your breathing slowly came back down to a normal pace, but you could still feel your pulse rattling around in your body. Of course it was just Hopper, of course it wasn't a boardgame monster stopping by for a snack.

"What are you doing here?" You still sounded exasperated as you pulled your arms from his grip and threw yourself into his chest.

He brought both his arms around your shoulders and pulled you further into him, giving you a moment to calm yourself down. "I came in to keep you company, I know you've been a little on edge since you brought up that shit at the Byers' house."

"God, thank you so much, I'm sorry for trying to beat you to death." Voice muffled by his chest, your sentiments were still appreciated.

He brought you back down to the front of the shop and you took one side of the counter each. Fixing him a coffee as a half-hearted apology for the near miss, you slid it across the counter to take place of an olive branch. He accepted with a grin, unable to stay mad at you, even when you're trying to knock his teeth out.

"I am actually so sorry, I really have been on edge, I don't know why." Your head fell into your hands, gently tugging at your own hair.

"Hey, hey come here." He called you around the counter, turning around in his stool as you got closer.

Pulling you between his spread legs, you settled back into his hold, allowing those big hands to rub down the spanse of your back. Even his touch alone could soothe you, even when you were still a little terrified of a time on the clock. His hands moved to your lower back, gently rubbing away all the tensions you'd held inside you for sometime.

There was something about Hopper, from the moment you finally let him drive you home after a shift, giving in to his multitudes of compliments about your roller-skates and your coffee pouring and your little uniform. He was warm and he was kind, he made you laugh and he felt good when he wrapped himself around you. Oh, and it couldn't be forgotten that the Hawkins Chief of Police was unbelievable in the sack.

"You got any customers tonight?" His voice rumbled against your whole body, sounding from deep insdie his chest.

You pushed back from him, letting his hands fall to your waist and your eyes meet, your fingers played with the buttons of his uniform.

"Not since 11.30, and I won't see anymore, I never do." You sighed, tipping your head back with a petty groan. "I still don't know why they have me here so late."

Hopper's hands drifted lower, ever so slightly, until his fingers were toying with the hem of your dress. The gentle touch pricked your skin up, understanding from a touch alone exactly what his intentions were. You kept your gaze fixed on his, a look in your eye that almost seemed to say "go for it."

One of his hands took yours, long fingers slotting between yours as he pulled you out from between his legs. Your roller-skates glided you easily along the linoleum floor, putting you out in front of him.

"Do a twirl for me?" His mouth quirked up into a smirk, making a heat rise up your neck and settle at your cheeks.

You didn't so much agree as he did it for you, lifting your arm and twirling you around on the wheels of your skates. If your dress wasn't so tight, it would've spun around you, but your apron did it for you. An unmissable grin spread across Jim's face, watching your little pose at the end as you both giggled.

"I believe they have you here so late to keep you in this little uniform just a bit longer." His voice was gruff, pulling you towards him again.

"Oh is that what it is?"

"That is what it is," His hands went back to the hem and seemed to sneak under it. "It's to make life harder for me."

"So, this is about you?"

"All about me, it's so I have to sit at home and just think about your pretty ass skating around in this tiny fucking dress, and there isn't anything I can do about it."

It got hotter in the diner, right in that very moment, you could feel it spreading across your body as you lent into him. Your lips ghosted just moments above his, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"Well you aren't at home now," You whispered, very nearly placing your lips on his. "What are you 'gonna do about it?"

He didn't have to tell you, it was rather a display to show you what he'd do. His lips came to yours, his signature was a domineering kiss that left you reeling an unable to think of anything else afterwards. His kisses left a hold over you, the way his tongue felt against yours, the way his hands moved against you. This man had you good.

Standing up from the stool, he wrapped one hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him in one swift movement. Your hands went up to his jaw, feeling his coarse beard under your fingers as you pulled his face closer to yours. One of your hands took his hat from the top of his head and hung it off the register beside you.

Hopper kept his hand on your waist, and left the other go beneath your thigh. In one swift motion he lifted you, placing you down on the counter before pushing the skirt of your dress up your legs. With a hand on each knee, he spread them apart and pulled you right to the edge, pushing himself between them to get even closer.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him handling you like his brought a wave over you, making your legs shake around him. One of his hands traveled higher up your thigh, making it's way past the bunched fabric and between your legs. Two fingers pressed firmly against the seat of your underwear and it was made apparent, just how wet he'd gotten you.

"Fuck, little lady you are always so good for me, aren't you?" His voice was nearly a bark, lips moving down your jaw and to your throat.

"I try my best, chief."

His motions stopped at the sound of that name, and within in instant he was pulling your underwear down your legs. It hung around one of your roller-skates as he pushed both your legs over his broad shoulders, leaning you back till you were perched up on your elbows.

Hopper's mouth found the meeting of your thighs, his tongue coming out to lick a fine stripe along your heat. Your mouth fell open and your hands flew to his head, fingers threading into his hair as he began to move his tongue against you.

Gasps and nearly pathetic whimpers fell from your lips as he worked against your clit, rolling it against his tongue with unreal precision. The only word leaving your lips was his title, the sound of chief filled the diner and bounced off the windows.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart as your body willed you to clamp them around his head. Your hips rolled forward, pressing you further into his mouth as his tongue moved down further before coming back up to that one spot.

So quickly, you could already feel that tension building inside you, a fine line of pleasure that was ready to snap. His eyes rose up to you, locking with you and making about every muscle inside you tighten. That look in his eye, it could've killed you the way you knew exactly what it meant.

He had a sweet tooth only you were pretty enough to sate.

One of his hands left your thigh and moved below the counter, you listened to the sound of his belt buckle as he haphazardly undid it one-handed. You heard his fly next and it was incredibly apparent that he was palming himself as his tongue still moved against you.

The thought, the image in your mind, the sounds he made as he moaned against your wetness it was all too much. Your head tipped back, fingers tightened in his hair as you cried out for him. You felt that line snap as your release washed over you.

Hopper never let up, lips still pursed around your clit as you rode out your high, nearly overtaking you. He never went to far, always new the line and he pulled back as he stood to full height. Your legs fell to his sides and you looked up to see him grasping himself in his hand.

His other hand trailed against your sensitive heat, two fingers dragging through the wetness that remained there.

"You have the sweetest fucking pussy I've ever got my hands on." He growled as he dove in for a kiss, the taste of you ever present on his lips.

He took that hand from between your legs and used it to slick up his cock, twisting your wetness around himself as he lay his head at your entrance. He dragged it along your sensitive cunt, before slowly pushing his way in.

The gasp that fell from you was iminent, Jim had a stretch like nothing else. Your body relaxed into this kiss and into him until he was hip-deep within you.

"And your pussy is so fucking tight, I can't believe how lucky I got." 

"It's all for you, chief, fuck me like you mean it."

So he did, his hands slid to the other side of the counter and gripped the edge before he delivered the first incredible blow. Your back arched up and a cry was ripped from within you as he pumped his hips quickly against your own.

Your hands shot up to grip his arms, feeling the muscles tensing beneath the cotton of his work shirt. Legs tensing up around his hips, moans and whimpers still steadily coming from you, it only seemed to spur him on like he was listening for the way you fell apart for him.

"You look so good taking my cock, pretty girl." He huffed, one hand leaving the counter to come and grip your hip.

He pulled you back against him with every thrust, striking deep inside you and rolling your eyes back in your head. Still on edge from the flood of pleasure he had just dipped you in, you felt like you were right there, teetering on the edge and waiting to be pushed over.

Always knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly what would drive you crazy and have you falling apart around him. Maybe this is what it had all been about, that talk about being with an older man, you'd heard the stories and he'd proven them all right.

From the moment you'd started sleeping over with each other, Hopper had changed your life. You didn't know if you could go back to nights without getting your back blown out by Jim Hopper. He would always talk about how he couldn't believe he got a pretty young thing like yourself, but you didn't know how you'd lucked out on someone that made you feel the way he did.

Gripping onto his uniform and crying out for him, you felt that hand on your hip slip down to your clit, rubbing furious circles against it. Another moan of that name, that title that until you had said it, was nothing more than a work give name. Now, the way that you said it gave it a whole new meaning.

It had gotten so bad that he had to stop asking you to call him that in front of people, after he'd pitched a tent the day you visited him at the station. Now that was reserved for teasing.

The way he touched you, how he knew your body, it had you dangerously close to coming undone for him once again that evening. Your heat clenched around him, dragging him in with a raw cry ripping out of your throat and rising above the both of you.

That line snapped once more and you couldn't help the way your hips rose from the counter and your body twitched under the mountain of pleasure. Over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the words of encouragement coming from Hopper.

He rode out your high with you again, pulling you back against him and refusing to let up as you felt him faltering slightly. "That's my good girl, 'gonna make me come."

You reached your hands up his chest, pulling against his shirt as you arched your back for him again. Your lips pursed as you mustered the strength to call out to him.

"Come for me, chief."

And that was enough to do it for him, his hips stilling tight against you as he came deep in you. Grunts and chopped cries of your name could be heard as he pulled you flush towards his chest, arms wrapped under your back as his heart hammered against both of your chests.

He let you back down from the counter, fixing himself as you pulled up your underwear and smoothed out your uniform. You placed his hat back on his head as he sat back on the stool, before you slotted back between his thighs.

As he wrapped his arms back around you, you heard, and then you saw it. That electrical pulsing, that buzzing that seemed to come from the lightbulbs. Right as your heart-rates had just come back as they should, you physically felt yours pick up again.

"Baby, what'd you call that damn time again?"

Your eyes moved from the flickering lights to the big clock on the wall, the one you usually focused on for your breaks. The hands were pointing clear as day, three in the morning.

"The witching hour."

[ever-is-typing]

ayo- can i get uh... fuckin... general annie relationship headcanons ⚆w⚆

note: ANNIE LESTER MY BELOVED <3!!! fun fact i used to be in the top 100 with her last season before my idv hiatus which i just got back from,,, </3 rip my A badge

🎈🧸Annie (Toy Merchant)🧸🎈Relationship Headcanons!

☞ Annie was like. pretty anxious when she first came to Oletus Manor

☞ years of being humiliated and deceived led her to not want to form relationships out of fear for her own well being

☞ but then YOU crashed your way into her life-

☞ like literally crashed

☞ you tried using one of her catapults in a match and twisted your ankle because you landed in a bad spot whoopsie

☞ she felt pretty guilty as she patched you up, expecting you to berate her for her poor catapult placement

☞ she was very surprised when you just waved it off?? like it was no big deal?? "it wasn't your fault Annie, you're still new, you'll learn??"

☞ you really help her to come out of her shell once you two get together!

☞ it took a lot of courage for her to leave her beloved toy shop behind, but she feels a lot braver with you by her side

☞ when she's using her glider in a match, rest assured she's watching over you from the sky

☞ she's like your guardian angel <3 <3 call her that and she'll legit blush herself to death

☞ Annie tries especially hard to find your favourite items from chests to throw to you

☞ "hey so i know how much you love those euphorias so i've been holding onto this one for you the entire match love you try not to die lmao"

☞ you two have gotten especially good at playing hot potato with items she throws to you like- you don't even need to look up or anything anymore

☞ she'll just yell for you while you're kiting, you'll outstretch your hand, and plop a new item yw <3

☞ the hunters are legit terrified of your teamwork

☞ you're so in sync with each other that people think you're telepathic or smtg

☞ Annie's teaching you how to fly her glider too!

☞ she's secretly making you your own custom one for your birthday but shhh it's a secret

☞ not that you'd be allowed to use it in your matches together, of course, but gliding together is a fun bonding activity for you two :)

☞ despite how delicate and dextrous her hands are, i'd imagine that Annie's fingers would actually be very calloused. she does do a lot of woodwork, after all

☞ you have to keep reminding her to put lotion on whenever you two hold hands. she finds it cute how you dote over her like that

☞ she'll make you little wooden keepsakes as gifts! awww <3

☞ she might also knit something for you to wear on colder maps because she doesn't want her darling to catch a cold

☞ if you don't know how to already, Annie would absolutely love to teach you how to sew! she claims it's a life skill that could never do you wrong

☞ she loves hands-on crafts, but she loves making them with you more ;)

☞ if you ever craft her anything her heart would literally melt call Emily we need a doctor

☞ all in all you two love each other very much! you bring out the best in each other and it's very sweet <3

"𝒀/𝑵... 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕, 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆... 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈."

-Annie Lester 🪁🪁

[fictionalabyss]

SinfullySlick

Pairing : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Sam (unspecified)

Word count : 1,221

Written for : @spnabobingo​

Square : selling slick.

Warnings : A/B/O dynamics, buying/selling slick, slick as lube, masturbation, oncoming rut, sex toys mentioned.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

“Any packages?” Dean asked as Sam returned from a run into town.

“No. Why, you waiting for something again? What the hell do you keep ordering?”

“Nothing. Shut up. Mind your business.”

“Dean-”

“I’ll check tomorrow.” Dean left the war room and headed off down a hall.

Sam sighed. This has been happening for a few months now. Dean would get antsy about a package coming, and then when he finally got it, he’d disappear and Sam would never find out what it was. He was curious what his brother was getting, wondered if it was some kind of subscription box since it seemed to come pretty regularly. It was obviously something embarrassing that he didn’t want Sam knowing about. Henati? No, Dean didn’t pay for porn. Figures? Where would he even hide them? “Hmm.” he shook his head and headed towards the kitchen with the bags.

“What do you got for me today.” Dean mumbled as he pulled out the key for his PO box and placed it in the lock. “Please please please.. Yes!”  he pulled out the slip that let him know a delivery came. Locking the box, he headed for the counter with a grin.

He handed over the slip, his ID, and waited, fingers drumming on the counter top as the employee headed for the back.

“Here you go.” The small brown box was placed on the counter. “Anything else I do for you?”

“Sweet. No, man, thanks a million. Have a good one.”

“Yeah,  you too.”

Dean tucked his ID back into his wallet, popping it back into his back pocket before scooping up his prize and exiting with a grin. 30 minutes later, he was parked in some overgrown field outside of town. He couldn’t go back to the bunker, not yet.

Licking his lips, reached over and brought the package into his lap. Pulling the pocket knife out of his jacket pocket, he cut through the tape before tossing the knife into the seat beside him for now. Opening the box, he began to gingerly peel back all the protective wrapping that kept the item safe. When he felt the bottle under his fingertips, he held his breath as he pulled it free and held it up to the sun, eyeing it for a moment before he brought it back down and finally, carefully, opened it and took a deep breath.

“Jesus fuck.” he groaned as the scent hit him and had him salivating in seconds. “So fucking good. Always so fucking good.” He was rock hard in his jeans in moments. He wanted to coat himself in it, hell, he wanted to bathe in it. Whoever the hell this girl was, her username was dead fucking on. SinfullySlick, and fuck was her slick sinful.

Licking his lips, he decided to chance it. Maybe he’d be able to sneak past Sam and hit the showers before he could smell a strange Omega’s scent on him. He closed the bottle back up, putting it in the box and putting that aside for a moment so he could get his jeans undone and free himself. Then he opened the bottle, poured a bit of slick into his hand and began to stroke himself.

“Fuck, yes.” his head went back with a groan. Taking a deep breath, he let the scent overtake him and growled. “Omega.”

“Dean-”

“No, Sam. Let’s just get this over with and get back home.” Dean’s rut was coming and Sam had dragged him out on a hunt. He was miserable. He wanted to be back home with his bottle of slick and his toy. Yeah, he had both of them with him, but as always the brothers shared a motel room and he didn’t need Sam knowing he was paying for slick like some loser who can’t get a date.

Sighing, Sam continued down the street walking alongside his brother until a group of women coming their way cut between them. Sam flashed a dimpled smile at one of them, and he got a wink and a giggle in return, making his smile widen. When he came out the other side, it took a minute for him to realize Dean wasn’t at his side anymore. “Dean?” Turning, he saw Dean had stopped and he was staring after the girls. “Look, I know your ruts coming, but that doesn’t mean you can-”

“Hey!” Dean called out, and the group of girls stopped. He had his eyes on one in particular, however. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so..”

“You smell.. You smell familiar.” Dean stepped closer and sniffed at the air. “I know you, you’re-”

“Guys, go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec.” You cut him off. They asked if you were sure and you nodded as you moved closer to Dean.

“You’re SinfullySlick. I’d know that fucking smell anywhere.”

“Sinfully who?” Sam moved closer to you and his brother with a confused look on his face.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know who you are, but-”

“Impala67.” he put his hand to his chest and he felt his heart swell as recognition lit your eyes.

“Oh shit.. You’re like... my best customer..” a soft chuckle escaped your lips on a breath. “I gotta say, with all the money you spend, I did not expect you to be so..” you looked him up and down. “Hot.”

Dean’s smile widened at that, his sour mood from earlier completely gone as he took in how beautiful your smile was, how sweet your voice sounded to his ears. “Yeah, well.. You’re just as beautiful as I imagined.” He almost melted as your smile turned shy. “Where you headed?”

“Uh, bar. Lucky’s. Happy hour starts in about 20 minutes.”

“Want company?”

“I had company.” you teased, motioning to your friends continuing down the street before they disappeared around a corner.

“Want more?”

“Dean, you shouldn’t. You're about to hit your rut, it’s not a good idea.” Sam cut in.

“That’s why you rushed the order? Ruts coming up?” Dean nodded. You gave a soft chuckle. “When?”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe day after.”

“What a coincidence. Heats due to hit in about two or three days. Probably why you were able to recognize me by scent.”

“Jesus..fuck.” Dean groaned.

“How about we meet up tomorrow night and I give you a fresh batch of slick for your rut. On the house. Nice and warm.”

“I could kiss you.” he groaned.

“I wouldn’t say no to it. Also wouldn’t say no to you coaxing the slick outta me.” you bit your bottom lip and took a step back from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Impala.”

“Dean.” he called out. “My name’s Dean.”

“See you tomorrow night, Dean.” Turning from him, you started towards the bar and your friends, but couldn’t help glancing back at him.

Dean watched you go until you were out of sight and then he let out a sigh. “Okay, maybe I don’t hate you for dragging me out on this one.”

“Wait..” Sam held out his hand. “You buy slick?”

“Mhmm.” Dean nodded.

“From her..”

“Yeah.”

“And now-”

“And now I’m in a good mood, Sammy. That’s all that matters.” He clapped Sam on the chest and started back the way they had been heading. “Let’s get to work. I’ve got a hot date tomorrow.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Dean - @akshi8278  @adoptdontshoppets   @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural​

SPN -  @sandlee44​  @just-another-busy-fangirl​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @deanandsamsbitch​  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​

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[hisokas-long-toenails]

Potential jobs for hxh characters if they weren’t hunters:

Hisoka: works at McDonald’s. Front register because he can’t be trusted to make food. He also can’t be trusted on the register. They’re afraid to fire him. Has tried to fight at least 4 customers in the last 2 months. Sometimes dresses up for the birthday parties but always dresses as Wendy much to the dismay of the company and the parents paying for the party.

Pariston: tailor. He’s good at it. People tolerate him, barely, because he has great taste. Alternately perhaps a divorce lawyer. Meanest in town. Will absolutely ruin happy relationships just to be their lawyer in the divorce.

Bisky: baker. Makes cute pastries. The cutest. Specializes in making animal characters out of things like bunny cinnamon buns and cat cookies.

Illumi: hypnotist. Will help you quit smoking but at the price of being able to control you if need be.

Ging: twitch steamer, but someone that people just hate watch.

Palm: so notoriously good at catching cheaters and exposing catfishers that she has her own tv show to investigate them. Has a tendency to get into fist fights when the cheater is particularly awful.

Knuckle: do I really need to say that he’d run a pet sanctuary? Probably for abandoned exotic pets.

Killua: hear me out, but I he designs the toys that go into things like kinder surprise eggs.

Leorio: look, i know he’d be a doctor. But I think he’d be a very successful diy YouTuber. He’d make dumb shit like those hot glue crafts, but people watch because he gets mad and has a minor breakdown in every video.

[invadermoz]

Something new has made its way into Gotham.⠀ ⠀ • Hot Toys MMS 173 - City Hunter Predator⁣⁣⁣⁣⠀ ⠀ Custom Batman by @ovan_nbcustom⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Canon EOS M50⁣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ EF-M32mm f/1.4 STM⁣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ISO 100⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ f/16⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 15 sec⁣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ #Prednesday⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #LitbyLume⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #capture4cubes⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⁣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■⠀⠀ ⠀ #Batman #FrankMiller #TheDarkKnightReturns #InvaderMoz #Brucewayne #gotham #dccomics #onesixthrepublic⠀ #TheDarkKnight #toycollector #onesixthcustom #hottoys #toytribe #frankmillerbatman #Yautja⠀ #Predator2 #CityHunterPredator #Toysyn #Toys4life #onesixthphotography #Toysphotogram⠀ #Predatormovie #TheBatman #TDKR #toyslagram #DCUniverse #BatmanvsPredator (at Gotham City) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPDrgfTgSor/?utm_medium=tumblr

[f33itan]

💛⚜️Pᴀʀᴛ 1: Tᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ⚜️💛 (From my Wattpad)

A/N: Ok, this was something a mutual of mine said here on Tumblr, and I decided to write a oneshot about it. Might be very VERY slight angst, nothing bad enough to actually be put under that umbrella though, anyways, enjoy this, and ty for the reads! :)

CW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, DEGRADATION, AND MORE FOUL WORDS THAN USUAL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

B/N: Your Mother's boyfriend's name

M/N: Mother's name

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

"Oi, Y/N! Go get me another pack of beer from the store!"

"Yes father!" Damn that pig looking bitch. I'm just some fucking girl, trying to protect her mom from this demon of a person! Heck, he's not EVEN a person! He's the devil himself!! Man, I wish dad was here...

When you were in about 7th grade, your real father got killed in a massacre a couple cities over. He was not only a police officer, but a great father and husband as well. He treated you and your mother amazingly, and you thought life couldn't get anymore perfect, but soon that all went down hill. After his death, your mother's health depleted and she felt empty inside. She needed somebody else to make her complete. She decided to call an old friend from high school, and next thing you know he moved in. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but soon enough he was beating you guys mercilessly, enough to leave large bruises and scars whenever you didn't do exactly what he asked, in your eyes though, it was more of an order. You hated being ordered around, but you hated your mother getting beaten around even more. It seemed like a blessing that he hasn't tried to rape her, but god knows what he'll do, he's unpredictable

With all of this happening, you decided to tell him you were doing some "extra curricular" classes in college, but what you were actually doing was taking the Hunter's Exam and learning nen. Your biological father was kind-hearted and fun to be around, but he was also strict and sometimes a bit harsh, though he always meant well. Before his passing, all three of you would go out on the weekends to train, exercise, or do something that would enhance your body power and brain power. Because of this, all of you were exceptionally smart, and bodies all well toned. Sometimes your excursions would be going to a park and practicing a sport, driving to the snow and sledding, skiing, snowboarding, and every once in a while going to another state to zip line, try animal encounters, or take a family friendly class in that state's heritage and customs.

Since you were accustomed to hard core training and events, you thought the Hunter's Exam was quite fun, and was a test to your skills. After that, you were scouted out by a strong nen user by the name of Biscuit Krueger. You and her had lots of fun training, and with her pushing your limits to the utmost best, you turned out to be a specialist.

(Whenever I imagine myself in Hunter x Hunter, this is always my nen type and stuff LMAO)

Your power was called, Black shadow. You could have up to 10 weapons on hand, completely subjected to doing your bidding. These weapons were linked to you through blood, and they were surrounded with a substance that appeared to be black mist. The weapons you most preferred to practice with and use were your katana, blood string, and scythe. You could also make a weapon yours by cutting a fingertip and letting the blood drip onto the weapon, altering the appearance then gaining that black "mist", showing that it was now yours. The downside to this technique was that those "shadows and mist remnants" were your sleep. The darkness in your mind and the shadows all around you were taken and used for that power. In turn, you were always tired, yawning, and had bags under your eyes. Another plus side though was that you had a nen created chamber that had every weapon you owned. A girl can have some fun toys, can't she? You had tools for torture (whenever you took an opportunity to try it), many varieties of weapons, and of course, more snacks. But unlike B/N, you didn't have just fatty snacks. You had regeneration potions, healthy snacks, and special nen created "snacks" to help with different things, which all of these you had collected through pulling some strings. Your mother was worried, but you said it was all just college things. Yeah, just college things..

Ill make that pig bitch pay for what he has done to my mother!

Feitan POV -or whats going on with him- :

"What time, is it.."

"8 AM Fei!"

"Shut up, green eyes, too loud."

"Oh Fei don't be rude! It's mean!"

"That's, the point."

"Oh wait, Shalnark, what this?"

"What do you mean?"

"This... gold string?"

"OI SHALNARK, FEITAN, COME ERE' REAL QUICK!"

"Phinks, what, do you, want-" Phinks just ignored his question and pointed to the TV.

This is Channel 12, reporting live from York New City Town Square. People all over the city are claiming to be seeing a string tied to their left ring finger, leading them to some unknown destination! What is this string? Who put it there?-

"AY AY IM ON TV! THE STRING THINGY JUST LEAD ME TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND NOW WERE DATING! SUPER AWESOME!"-

I apologize for the interference, but this string appears t be leading people to.. partners? Soulmates? Find out tomorrow morning, this is Amy Starwick from Channel 12, signing out.

"What. The. FUCK."

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOODNESS HOLY SHIT FEITAN YOU HAVE A SOULMATE!!"

"Nope-"

"YESS YOU DOOOOOOO"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CHEERY BITCH-"

"No❤️" Since Feitan was on his last nerve with Shalnark, he decided to stomp over towards Chrollo in the main room, but Chrollo just chuckled.

"Wanna go find your soulmate? See if that things real?" Feitan just stared at the ground, lightly shifting his feet.

"Go ahead, I don't mind."

"Just, doing it, out of, curiosity."

"Mhm, curiosity, go find them." And with that, he was dismissed. Feitan wanted to say it was curiosity, but deep down he had this feeling there was something else, but what was it? It made his stomach tingle and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore all of this, and just shrugged it off...

꧁꧂꧁꧂TimeSkip to Next Day꧁꧂꧁꧂

Your POV + some Feitan POV:

"Alright, today's the day, he'll be at his work, and on his break, i'll set the plan in motion.." Both me and mom don't like him, and I don't know about her, but I sure hate him, every ounce of him. The plan is simple: 1. Capture mom's boyfriend, 2. Take him to an abandoned building, 3. Torture him and get all of the answers I need, and 4. Kill him. His break is at 12, and he usually goes to get takeout every other Friday, what a pig. I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.

Time: 11:30 AM

Ok, I have everything ready. Fully energized to the utmost extent, Elixirs to bring him back in case he passes out too early, and- what? He's leaving for lunch early? PERFECT! You ran behind some buildings and hid in a two-way alleyway, waiting for him to pass by...

Here we go..

One..

Two..

THREE!

You covered his head with a sack, and took his phone out of his back pocket. Before heading over to your post, you laced the inside of the sack with some sleeping powder and pressed it against his nose and mouth. Within moments he passed out, and you typed in what you hoped to be his password, which was correct. Around 12:30, you were going to text one of his coworkers that he would be "going to a restaurant across town, and ditching work for a day, not wanting to see his stupid good for nothing girlfriend or his dumb daughter." You knew he called you both this because of going through his text messages when he wasn't looking or when he was sleeping. Little did you know that somebody was watching you from afar.

"Hmm... So, she, my, what do people, call it.. soulmate? Seems, interesting..."

Time: 12:00 PM

"Jesus, I new he was a fat ass but I didn't know he weighed this much!" You were tugging him from his legs through the back ways of York New. You wanted to find a secluded area, where once you were done with him you could just toss him somewhere for the birds and maggots to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, you came across a set of abandoned buildings, specifically the one you laid out some extra things. A couple extra weapons, some towels, a change of clothes, a chair and some rope, a couple of flashlights, and of course, some snacks. Lucky for you, the douchebag you've been dragging around like a rag doll was still out cold, so you picked him up and tossed him on the chair, tying his wrists, ankles and neck to the chair.

"Maaannn, this is boring!! When the hell are you gonna wake up?!" As if on queue, you saw his eyes start to flutter open, and you immediately grabbed your box cutter. It wasn't a weapon used by your nen, but it was quite effective.

"What.. who.. wait- Y/N!? WHAT THE FUCK?! UNTIE ME NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS!!" you didn't notice it, but Feitan was watching from the building over.

What, the fuck? Why she kidnap him? That pig? Why? Confusing, gotta keep, watching.

You shoved the box cutter into his left cheek, and you bathed in the glory of hearing his screams of pain.

"How does this feel, you bitch? Everything you've done to my dear mother, everything you've done to me, and heck, YOU WERE PROBABLY BEHIND MY DAD'S MURDER DURING THAT FUCKING MASSACRE!!" B/N noticed the tears in your eyes, and took this to his advantage.

"So what if I was? Both of your parents were pathetic anyways."

"NO THEY AREN'T! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY MOTHER'S LIKE THIS NOW! YOUR THE FUCKING REASON FOR EVERYTHING SHITTY THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"

"Heh, hehe.. hahaHAHAHA! YOU KNOW GOD DAMNED WELL THAT ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC! WANNA KNOW WHY I GOT WITH YOUR MOM!? BECAUSE SHES HOT. AND SHE HAD GOOD MONEY FROM YOUR FUCKING DAD. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS GONNA DO?! YOU KNOW WHY I TOOK OFF EARLY TODAY?! I WAS GONNA RAPE YOUR MOTHER AND MAKE YOU WATCH, THEN KILL BOTH OF YOU AND RUN OFF WITH ALL OF YOUR MONEY!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S IRONIC?! I DON'T HAVE ONE. SINGLE. FUCKING. REGRET. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAD, YOU SOULDN'T HAVE HAD THE NERVE TO DO THIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!!"

You couldn't handle this anymore, tears were falling down your face rapidly as you grabbed the duct tape and closed his mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck about what you say.. I'm going to kill you here. This is your grave. Someday, I'll join you in hell, and when I do, I'll torture you again, and the Devil will laugh. You just watch and ducking wait you, you.. PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIG ASS SLOPPY ASS NASTU FUCKING BITCH!" With that, you grabbed a couple super worms in each hand and shoved them into his ears. Even with the duct tape, you could hear his screams of agony as the worms dug deeper into his ears. You then got our your katana and slashed him across the stomach, and shoved even more worms into that open wound of his. Quickly, you poured a large bottle of the elixir you had brought over him to keep him from dying so quickly. Box cutter still in hand, you carved small lines all over his arms and legs, then ripped off the tape to hear his desperate cries. You imagined he wanted to be dead, but you didn't care. His pain and you pain mixed together and you just started laughing. You through your head back and let yourself laugh. all of the pain this man has caused you and your mom will be repayed today.

But the pressure and stress was too much to handle. Your laughing of victory soon turned into screams and more tears, as you let yourself fall to the ground, not even noticing you didn't hit it hard, something had caught you, or someone..

What the shit am I doing?

Am I really going to kill him?

What's wrong with me?

What will mother think?

What would dad do?

What am I doing with my life?

You soon snapped out of all of those negative thoughts though, as you noticed something caressing your face lightly.

"Rest, now. He, won't die, so quickly. I'm, Feitan." You were a sniffling and crying mess, so all you could do was rush into Feitan's chest and cry. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He had no idea what he was doing, for he had only seen this kind of skin on skin contact in movies. So, he did what those people in the movies did.

"Don't, worry... It's all, going to be.. okay."

Word Count (Including author notes, etc) : 2251

-Wrote February 3, 2021-

Unedited sorry about that lol-

Part 1...