#Hot take alert ig

[lalagoona]

Whatever the new winx reboot will be like it will still be better than whatever Nick*lodeon did to them

[saucedlx]

it’s so hard enjoying any sorta old media when it’s full of people being weird about how “everything used to be GREAT and now it SUCKS and we should GO BACK!” like cmon just appreciate old stuff without that pungent rose-tinting that makes you think there used to never be problems and nothing has improved

[house-of-lovin]

protect her

Tara Carpenter x Detective!Reader

masterlist

Preview: "Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle."

Warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of violence and mature language. slight scream vi spoilers. read at your own risk.

Note: Reader is around Sam's age, so like 25 or 26. Tara being a words of affirmation girlie. Thought this dynamic would be fun to write about. I'm incapable of writing shorter oneshots ig, so enjoy 6k+ words of whatever this is lol.

Word Count: 6.1k+

The honking of horns blowing through the cool night air was muffled when you pushed the glass door of the diner open. The chimes of the overhead bell rang alerting the room of your presence but barely anyone turned their heads – save for Sam Carpenter who smiled at you.

You shuddered away remnants of the chill air off your shoulders, stepping closer to the bartop; claiming your seat in the far corner pressed up against the wall. A mug is placed on the counter before you even finish hanging your jacket on the back of the chair.

You slide into the high-top seat as the brunette pours coffee into the mug with a carafe. “Still hot, wow, I must be special.” 

“Yeah okay, hotshot. You just happened to make it in time for a new pot.” She rolls her eyes, and you hide your smirk behind the mug; taking a sip – ignoring the fact that you usually come in at this time.

“You on the clock?” She asks, leaning on her elbows atop the counter. She glances back briefly, making sure her snitch of a coworker wasn’t around to scold her for not doing her job.

It was still too early for the influx of drunk regulars and one-timers to come by, so really the only kinds of people in here were the ones who were getting off work too late to make dinner at home.

“Just got off, 16 hours. But got a new lead on a case that went cold a couple of months ago so I guess I’m doing a double. Just reviewing some notes now.” You sigh heavily, gesturing to the files and folders sprawled out on the table. 

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You work too much. You need to take a break and focus on something else outside of work. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

You roll your eyes at her mocking tone, shooting back, “Oh yeah? You learn that from therapy?”

It was her turn to glower when you remind her of the doctor visits. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the advice therapists love to give me before I actually open up – you know like they tell me to and suddenly they’re running for the hills, one by one.” 

You snort, all too familiar with the tales of her doctor visits. It took a while for Sam to open up to you; trust came sparsely these days for the Carpenter. It wasn’t until one of your frequent visits turned into you having to step in and kick a rowdy group of drunkards who were harassing Sam of something along the lines of ‘Woodsboro’ and ‘Ghostface’. It was only when you threatened the group with jail time did they relent.

Sam knew she could trust you after you sent her an acknowledging nod when the group left and went back to minding your own business. The next time you visited, she opened up; about her past, her father, her hallucinations, the attacks and the trauma that came afterward. And, how she managed to land herself in the big city, which sprouted an overzealous rant about her strained relationship with her sister.

You knew how to read people well, it was a significant part of your job to be able to. So, you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that there was a fire behind those dark eyes that she desperately tried to douse – you had interrogated and dealt with enough people to know what the glint meant.

You were honest to Sam that you had an inkling of suspicion about the darkness in her mind – you still accepted her despite knowing her dirty secret; that a part of her doesn’t feel bad for killing Richie and Amber, if anything it felt kinda good. Sam was confused as to why you, a cop, weren't locking her behind bars at the confession. 

But, having dealt with the scum of the Earth, you can tell she was nothing like them.

It isn’t always easy to differentiate people between just good and bad, you told her when she asked.

A friendship blossomed between you two after that, bonding over similar traumas. Sam invited you to her apartment to meet her friends and sister – who all interrogated you, Mindy, most especially to make sure you weren’t secretly Ghostface. The girl had some skills in that department, you'll admit.

Coming to learn of your career and how surprisingly well Sam trusted you, the group lowered their walls bit by bit. They would never say it out loud but they felt way safer having you around.

“That’s why I don’t go to therapy.” You shrug, taking a sip of the steaming coffee; letting the heat warm your bones.

She snorts, pretending to be wiping the countertop when her coworker peeks her head out to look at you two. “You probably need it more than anyone else in this place.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” You mumble, as you flip through the evidence photos of a homicide you investigated five months ago. The pictures were gruesome, but it was just another day on the job for you. Maybe that’s why you and Sam got along more than expected.

Sam’s phone vibrates from her back pocket and she fishes it out, reading the text.

‘We got into some trouble, some help?’ it was Anika, no doubt being appointed to text Sam because the others didn't want to do it themselves.

“Dammit.” Sam sighs, already taking off her apron to leave.

“What’s up?” You raise a brow at her panicked expression.

“My sister and her friends got into some trouble. I need to get them. Crap! They’re all the way in the East Village.” She says reading the other incoming texts on her phone. “This is what I get for letting her go out.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you.” You say, already standing when Sam mentioned Tara. The thought of the brunette in trouble makes your heart stop for a moment.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. You’re working.” She shakes her head in protest.

“Carpenter, it’s a 30-minute drive just to get to the East Village, get your ass permission to leave then meet me at my car. Acting like Danny wouldn’t have my ass if I just left you like this.” You mutter, acting indifferent – but it was true, her boyfriend would have your head on a stick if you ever left Sam high and dry, not that you would ever.

She nods, knowing she won’t win this one with you. You throw a $20 tip, slip on your jacket, and make your way back out into the cool fall air.

You lit a cigarette to pass time as you wait for Sam – leaning against your car, trying to ease the nervousness raging in you as you think of what kind of trouble Tara found herself in.

You and Tara are... complicated. You two haven't exactly slapped a label on it, all you know is you care about her more than you probably should.

Because of your close connection with Sam, and how much everyone secretly trusted you. You and Tara found yourselves growing closer to each other with each visit to their apartment.

Tara was weary about you at first introduction, ignoring that you were ridiculously attractive. She can still remember Mindy asking you to your face 'Where did Sam find you?' in a flirtatious tone. You just chuckled and explained how you met her sister, and Tara knew it was kind of wrong, but she couldn't help but be intrigued…

Then Sam started leaving you two alone in the apartment to run some errands. With not much to do, Tara decided to pop a horror movie in to watch with you – finding out you’ve never seen ‘Se7en’ after inquiring if your job was just like the movies.

A connection between you and Tara blossomed from those moments in that tiny NYC living room.

Suddenly she wasn't just your friend's little sister and man, is she magnetic.

She educates you on the joys of horror movies and you watch every single one, listening to her analysis of each scene; simply enjoying the serenity she brings out in you.

Tara is secretly glad you are older than her because sometimes it meant you’re so different, but that just means she can expose you to her interests, and vice versa. You never turned her down – no matter what it was.

On the slim chance you got off work early enough, you visited the diner to keep Sam company and do some work.

Sometimes though, when Sam would end mid-morning, you two would continue your talks at her apartment – sometimes with Danny, over whatever leftover diner food she would steal from her work for you three to munch on over beers and conversation. 

Those would be the nights where you would pass out on their couch from drinking and Tara would finally come out of her room when Sam and Danny leave. She would tuck a blanket over your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, taking the time to scan your features for any injuries. And in the mornings, when you were gathering your bearings from a night of drinks and bad choices, Tara would force you to sit down at their dining table and have breakfast with her. Scolding you for your irresponsible choices, but being grateful you were in front of her, nonetheless.

She worries for you with your job and all.

And as you find yourself giving into her request for morning coffee, stolen kisses, and conversation – you push away thoughts of being late to work as you find yourself grateful for similar musings the longer you stare at the pretty girl across from you.

“Wow, if people couldn’t tell you're a narc. They sure could now.” Sam takes the time to poke fun at you – pulling you out of your daydream. You look down at your figure; sporting a button-down shirt, trousers with your leather jacket on top and trusty leather boots on your feet.

You roll your eyes in realization and flick away the cigarette bud, yanking the car door open.

“It’s the work dress cod– just get in the damn car, Carpenter.”

– – 

The usual thirty-minute drive instead took fifteen minutes as you pounded on the accelerator, flipped the sirens on, and dashed past other cars on the road as they cleared the way for you.

You arrive at the corner of a lower Manhattan intersection, the East Village was known for its bustling nightlife; you can see a mix of all ages of people wandering the street as they continue their bar crawl.

It was further down the road, where you can see six sullen-looking figures sitting on the curb of the sidewalk – a police officer standing above them. 

Sam dashes out of the car before you can even finish parking. You see her run down the street and talk to the officer, getting in his face and the six others look at her panicked. You sigh, and make your way out of the car, strapping your badge to your belt – you’d need to use it soon, you’re sure.

Tara’s eyes immediately connect to you as soon as you climb out of the car. Before she can think about it, she’s standing up to meet you. “Ah ah, I said sit down! You better listen or I’ll throw you all in jail for the night.”

“You can’t do that!” Sam shouts, stepping closer to the police officer. You decided enough was enough when you saw the police officer resting his hand on his holster.

“All right, that’s enough.” You grasp Sam’s elbow, yanking her away from the police officer. The older Carpenter is slightly startled by the rough tug, but you push her behind you getting in between her and the policeman.

“I think we’re all good here officer, thank you.” You say with finality. You weren’t asking, you were telling and Tara’s inebriated mind is all hot and bothered. 

“Like hell we are, these six were caught sneaking into a club underage, and this one.” He points to Sam, “is getting on my nerves. Now, it seems like I can add you to the list, ‘cause who the hell you think you are, buddy?”

You briefly glance a stern side-eye to Tara at ‘club and underage’, she immediately looks away.

“Detective Y/L/N from the 99th precinct.” You slide your jacket aside to flash him the badge on your waist.

”And, you must be… Officer Leroy. From 6th, huh.” Reading his name tag and badge.

“Think that’s supposed to mean something?” You see his eyes on your badge before glowering to meet your eyes. “I’ll arrest you too.”

The group breaks out into loud protests.

You chuckle knowingly, “How long you been in the force buddy?” You ask, not unaware of all of the eyes on you as you and the officer have a stare-off.

“Four months.” He answers confidently, pushing his shoulders up and back to appear taller.

“Hmm… see I had a feeling. ‘Cause, my buddy Rivers just got promoted to Captain six months ago over on the 6th precinct, which means he’s most likely your superior. I wonder what you’ll tell him as to what charge you picked us up for. ‘Cause well, he will see me.” You shrug, offering up that thought for him to think about. 

“Oh better yet, I’d just love to see what you write down on that case report, Officer. Leroy.” Your tone was harsh now as you stepped in his face, intimidating him.

He was forced to take a step back as you got in his space, his features paling, it took a few seconds before he conceded. “Fine! Just get the hell out of here, and don’t let me see you again!”

Everyone let out a relieved sigh as you smirked at his submission; everyone immediately takes the chance to leave and Sam tries to tug on your arm but you were still staring the cop down. He put this hand on his fucking gun when Sam got in his face and anger was quickly rising in your veins – you were unmovable, even by rough force.

“Y/N it’s over, let’s go.” Sam tries again but she can feel your arm harden as your knuckles tighten into a fist. “Y/N, seriously.”

Tara sobered up by the time police charges was being thrown around and her worry about your protectiveness was increasing. Sam couldn’t even pull you away. Chad steps in when Sam asks for help to convince you to move. He puts a hand on your shoulder, whispering calming words, no doubt. 

But nothing was working as you stood there, still unmovable. She wouldn’t be surprised if Chad threw you over his shoulder and dragged you away, even though you weren’t that much smaller than him. In your boots, you were nearly at his height and Tara had to strain her neck to try and meet your eyes. 

It was only when Tara pulled away from Quinn and Mindy’s hold and stepped in front of you, putting a hand just above your chest that you blinked, glancing down at her. “Y/N, let’s go… please.”

When you tried to glance back up at the other officer, whose partner had seen the commotion and tried his own efforts in calming him; his patience thinning by the second – was when Tara’s grasp on your shirt firmed, making you look back at her own stern eyes.

"Let's. Go." Her tone left no room for argument. Warning you from doing something stupid and you clench your jaw, looking away from the uniformed officers.

“Fine…"

Everyone slowly releases a breath when your rigid posture relaxes. “I’m driving you home, let’s go.” You exclaim to the rest but look directly at Tara, “Especially you, Carpenter.”

You place a hand on the sliver of her back and Tara shivers not used to being this close to you in a while. Your hand keeps its place even as you both turn and Sam is immediately on her ass about sneaking into a club. You guide the bickering sisters to walk to the car, zoning out the familiar sounds of their argument.

“–ou’re lucky Y/N was at the diner, who knows what that creep would’ve done if we didn’t drive out here in time.” Your hand tightens, subtly bringing her closer to your side at Sam’s words, Tara glances over when you do.

“It was fine until you got there and started overreacting, Sam.” Tara rolls her eyes, way past just ‘over’ Sam’s overprotectiveness. The younger girl loved her sister, she did, but she didn’t want to live her life constantly looking over her shoulder.

Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle.

Sam scoffed offended, “Are you kidding me right now?” And you sigh because you can feel a bigger fight brewing and you can hear the slurring in Tara’s words, not a good mix. 

“Let’s get you all home first before we do this, okay?” You cut in when you see the car come closer into view. Fishing for your keys, you throw them at Sam making her catch them. 

“Walk ahead and start the car for me, please?” You ask with a raised brow; tilting your head to gesture to Tara saying a wordless ‘i got her’. Sam relents, tightly gripping the keys and walked ahead.

Tara leans her head against your shoulder, grateful for the brief moment of seclusion as everyone else walks up ahead.

“Are you mad at me?” You glance down at her frown, before looking away. 

“No. I’m not.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. If you’re mad you can tell me… cause then I can fix it.” You feel her run her hand up and down your back, under your jacket. It made a shiver run up your spine as she continued rubbing lines on the fabric of your shirt.

“I swear, I’m not mad. A little disappointed but no, not mad.”

Tara huffs, sliding her arm off your back when you reach the car; the talk cut short. You open the car door sitting Tara inside, it was a tight squeeze but she was small. You’d sit her on your lap if her sister wasn't here. Anika did sit on Mindy’s lap though with poor Chad in the middle seat and then Tara. 

She squeezes your hand just before you shut the door.

Apparently, Ethan and Quinn elected not to go home and continue on with their night.

Sam is already sitting in the passenger seat by the time you closed Tara’s door. With a sigh, you pull your door open, sit behind the wheel and drive off to the Carpenter’s apartment.

– –

Sam hurriedly rushes everyone into the living room as soon she opens the door; making sure to quadruple lock it, twist the handle to make sure it's locked and look out the peephole. It was Sam’s routine whenever she got into their place.

“Come on, let’s go, sit down.” Sam waves at you all, walking to the kitchen to grab water for everyone.

You help Tara onto the far edge of the couch, sitting her beside Mindy, who sat beside Anika. Chad decided to choose a record to listen to get rid of the tense air.

You felt Tara pulling you down with her, “Let me sit on your lap.” She mutters only to you.

“We can’t,” You whisper in her ear, slightly shaking your head. You hear her huff when you refuse her and see the pout on her lips when you pulled back, slightly smiling at her adorableness.

You force yourself to walk away from the younger Carpenter; heart tugging firmly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in your arms, especially after not knowing what kind of trouble she was in.

Instead, you make your way into the kitchen to help Sam with the water bottles and bread.

“Is this necessary, Sam?” You ask the brunette, who was frantically searching through the fridge on her knees.

“You kidding? Chad is literally just staring holes at the record player.” She rebuttals and you glance back at the younger boy in amusement.

With a chuckle, you say, “He’s just high as shit. He’ll come down soon, plus he’s here now, they all are. Just relax and take a deep breath, man.” You remind her in a serious tone, holding out a hand to hold all the water bottles she was passing off to you.

“I know, I know. I was just worried.” She follows your advice taking calming, deep breaths as you follow along with her. 

“Your therapist would be so proud, Samantha.” You tease smugly as she scoffs, hitting your leg from her position on the floor – you kick her back.

“Can you make sure Tara drinks and eats something, and that she’s okay before going to bed?” Sam asks you in a hushed tone, although she didn’t need to. The other four were all too engrossed either in the music or the TV in the back. 

“Why me?”

“She’s not ready to talk to me and I’m not either... and I just wanna sleep right now.” She admits with a plead behind her eyes and you nod with no hesitation. 

“I'll make sure all of them make it to bed, don’t worry.” She nods appreciatively, then stands so you can both get back to the other four in the living room – tossing them some bread.

“Finish that whole bottle before going to sleep, I don’t care if you piss your pants while you do ‘em.” You say in a stern tone while throwing the bottles, then sitting on the armchair to Tara’s left.

Sam shares a look with you as she slips out of the room, wordlessly, leaving you with the other four. They watched TV for the next 20 minutes, glancing around as each of them got progressively tired the more time ticked on. 

“Alright. I think it’s time to call it a night.” You call it.

The twins and Anika slowly got up, muttering goodbyes and promises of texting Tara once they’d made it home. You offered to drive them to their dorm but felt the silent conversation between the friends – as Tara got them to turn you down to get you to stay here with her. 

You lean against the front door, watching as the trio made their way down the stairs until they were out of sight. As soon as you shut the door closed, you felt arms wrap around your midsection – making you turn around.

“I missed you,” Tara mutters against your chest making you chuckle when it slightly tickled. 

You cup her jaw, making her look into your eyes. “I missed you too, baby.”

Tara melts at the term of endearment, grabbing your neck to pull you down for a long searing kiss. Lips slotted over one another as they found the familiar grooves of each other’s mouths. Only breaking apart when Tara confessed with a bated breath, “You looked so hot confronting that other cop.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” She mutters connecting her mouth to your neck, peppering wet kisses there. She can hear you sigh in satisfaction and it makes her hold on you tighten even more. But with great reluctance, you pulled away from Tara; who whimpered in protest.

“We can’t, babe.” You remind her, pointing with your head to Sam’s room.

She frowns, “then come to my room.” Problem solved. She smirked devilishly, tugging you toward her room; you refused.

“We still can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not taking advantage.” You whisper, only stepping close to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She groans letting her head drop to your shoulder as your hand played with her hair.

“I hate that you’re a goodie two shoes.” She mutters making you laugh.

You tilt her head up with the hand already in her hair – gaze intense as you whisper, “I can assure you, I am far from a goodie two shoes.”

And Tara thought she melted at the way your voice dropped an octave when you said that but she knew she melted when you leaned down, tugging her by the hair, to connect your lips.

It was barely a peck, all tender and fleeting.

When you pulled away, she smirked knowingly watching as your eyes traced a path from her lips to her eyes – your gaze all dark, lustful. When your eyes connect you dive into her with a hair-raising kiss; all hungry and pining.

The feeling of your tongue clashing against hers and sounds of soft moans sends time stopping like only you and her exist in this apartment together. But Tara knows it doesn’t really stop and she has to eventually pull away before she takes you in the hallway – right then and there.

“God, you drive me crazy,” Tara whispers against your lips.

“So do you… cause sneaking into a club, really?” You ask unimpressed and Tara immediately pulls back, groaning.

Snickering as you follow closely behind when she walks into her room, trying to get away from you.

“You’re a mood-killer.” She mutters sitting on her bed, arms crossed over her chest; sulking.

“And you’re gonna give me and Sam a heart attack soon.” You joke but it was true. Tara loved to prove her sister wrong; not like being told what to do. It grew a defiant attitude in her that loved to stir shit up just for the hell of it, and that landed her in some hot waters with her friends sometimes. She definitely made your blood pressure sky-rocket, sometimes too.

“Why?” Tara probes. You were always so elusive and mysterious – it came with your job and allure. She can barely get you to open up about your feelings most of the time, saying you prefer to show her than tell her. You definitely did, so this admission from you was new. It has Tara yearning to hear more words of affirmation from you.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I care about you, dummy. I nearly caused multiple accidents just to get to you. I was going like 80 mph the whole time,” You admitted, scratching the back of your neck a little ashamed.

“You were really that worried?” She asks, looking up at you with a hopeful stare like she was surprised.

“Of course, I was Tara. I even used the siren lights.” You shake your head at the fact that she’s even asking. 

She was smiling goofily as you walked closer to stand between her legs, taking both her hands in yours. “I worry for all of you. But you, well, I always worry for you 'cause I’m thinking about you all the time.” You confessed in a whisper in her dark room. 

Tara bites her lip, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “You’re the worst.” Was the words that left her mouth.

“What, why?” You ask laughing.

She lets go of your hands to fiddle with your shirt buttons, muttering, “‘Cause you’re standing here looking all good and saying all the right things, and you still won’t fuck me.”

“Oookay…” You chuckle, grabbing at her fingers trying to unbutton your shirt, “That’s enough from you tonight. Let’s get you to bed before you say anything else you might regret tomorrow.”

She huffed but allowed you to grab her some new clothes to help her change; still not fucking her, Tara complains. Your eyes never even strayed from hers, not even when she took her bra off to change shirts and batted her eyes seductively. When she was all ready, you helped her to bed; tucking her in.

“Stay with me?” She asks grabbing onto your shirt, then gripping tighter. “Please.”

“What about Sam?” You ask softly, pushing away some hair from her face.

“She’s probably already sleeping, if not, she’s gonna be in her room all night.” Tara reasons, fully tugging you on top of her. 

You give in like you always do.

Work for you and classes for Tara have been a lot right now, not being able to find time alone. You were practically living at the police station with the crime surge in the city, working late nights and long hours. With Sam’s overprotectiveness, Tara can say goodbye to dates so she only really sees you when you come over with her sister. You take your jacket off, place it on the chair in the corner of her room and tug your boots off. Remembering you had a change of clothes here from when Tara ransacked your closet; you picked out a shirt and shorts before getting into bed beside the younger Carpenter.

She was on you in an instant, swinging a leg over your waist, shoving her face in your neck. You feel her exhale a calming breath, once she’d settled into a comfortable position on you. You reciprocate by wrapping a strong grip around her waist, cherishing the way her skin warmed yours and how the weight of her body felt perfect.

“Just stay with me until I fall asleep?” She asks you with such a vulnerable gaze that you would never dream of ever telling her no.

You nod, pressing a kiss to her lips, then forehead. “Of course, pretty girl. Goodnight.”

She smiles against your lips, whispering her own, “goodnight.”

As you hold Tara Carpenter in your arms, you find yourself fending off sleep, only ever being this relaxed around the girl. You squeeze her slightly, feeling grateful to be with her at this moment with all the craziness in your two’s lives. No worries of outside-world problems could break the cozy bubble you and Tara created. Without ever standing a chance, you lose the fight to sleep and easily fall off the precipice with her in your embrace.

– –

“Tara, do you have my nail polish – Oh this is cute.”

You spring up, the voice startling you from the most relaxed sleep you’ve ever had; the type that makes your entire body heavy and head foggy when you wake up. You were the lightest of sleepers, a pin drop could probably startle you awake, but never when you fell asleep beside Tara.

“What the fuck?” Tara grumbles against your side, peaking her head up to see Quinn watching you two in bed.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were and instantly pale when you realize you never left the Carpenter Sister’s apartment, you never even made it out of Tara’s bed. You can feel the stream of sunlight coming in from Tara’s window and just know you had majorly fucked up.

“I just needed my nail polish but this is quite a sight, definitely a pleasant surprise.” She waves a hand toward you two, and you roll your eyes.

“Shit babe, Sam.” Tara places a hand on your arm. You check the watch strapped on your wrist for the time, 10:32 AM – making you leap out of her, oh so warm bed.

“Screw Sam, my Captain is gonna be on my ass until next year if I don’t get to work now. I was late about two hours ago.” Grumbling, you yanked Tara’s closet open and grabbed the spare trousers and button-down, you stowed in there.

"Can't say I blame your Captain." Quinn retorts, heavily eyeing you as you change your shorts into trousers.

Tara groans at the mess this morning has already been, flopping onto her back.

“Screw Sam, huh?” She appears, leaning on the threshold just behind Quinn, crossing her arms over her chest.

Your hands stall on the tie you were tying as you hear your friend’s voice, making you turn around.

“I guess that’s a no on the nail polish?” Tara glares at her roommate. 

Quinn shrugs, still ogling as you changed before turning to leave the room. “Not a wasted trip though, nice catch Tara.” She winks at the brunette – holding a thumbs up.

The redhead just laughs, moving out of the way when Tara attempts to throw a pillow at her.

“Sam… I’d love to explain but I am so late for work right now.” You plead at the older sister.

Tara sat on her bed wordlessly, unsure of what Sam’s reaction is going to be – but ready to defend her relationship with you, regardless.

Sam chuckles shrugging lightly, “I already knew. Or well, I had a feeling, but this just confirms it.”

You and Tara look at each other at her confession, unsure if Sam’s words hold positive or negative connotations. Sam sees the eye-contact and laughs.

“I’m not mad, I promise. I was a little hurt that you didn’t tell me…” She pauses, “okay. I was really hurt when you guys didn’t tell me. But I realize I haven’t given Tara reason to trust me with anything about her life lately.”

That makes Tara’s head perk up at her sister’s admission. All she’s ever wanted was for Sam to trust her a little because trust went both ways in every type of relationship.

“And well, I guess I can’t think of anyone better to be with my sister than my cop friend. Especially after you came through for her last night. You were driving so fast, I thought I was gonna die.” Sam laughs a little but you’re still unconvinced.

When Sam realizes no one was still talking she chuckles again. “Guys, I’m serious!”

You cough clearing your throat, “Sorry Sam, it’s just that... I–uh,” 

Tara decided to cut off your stammering, “We’re just surprised, Sam. We thought you'd be more upset. And that we were more subtle.” She admits, shooting you a look.

“You weren't. But, I thought a lot about what to say until I realized it was just you guys and I care about you two so much. You don’t think I noticed Tara being a lot happier than usual and you actually looking somewhat at peace?” She asks rhetorically, reading you and Tara to filth – your cheeks reddening, not being used to being at the other end of the ‘questioning’.

“I see how you look at each other. I know you’ll protect her.” That last sentence she says looking at you and it means the world to get her approval – something that you didn’t even know you wanted, you nod at her appreciatively.

Sam pushes herself off the doorframe, tapping on it. “Now come on, there’s breakfast in the kitchen, don't let it get cold. And Y/N, I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today.” She winks, leaving you and Tara alone in the room.

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, unable to find words to describe what just transpired in the span of a few minutes. Then you hear a scoff bring you out of your reverie.

“What the hell was that,” Tara commented, getting up from the bed and closing the door before approaching you. 

“I’m… not really sure. I can’t tell if I’m still asleep.” You mumble, grabbing at her cheeks to make sure you weren't in a dream. Tara whines against the pinching, swatting your hands away.

You laughed at her frown before leaning down to kiss her slightly chapped lips, all soft and slow. Tara pulls you closer by the neck, sighing against pressed mouths. A sweet moan escapes her mouth when you suck down hard on her lip, releasing it with a loud pop. 

“You think I should call in sick today?” You whisper, running a gentle thumb to soothe her swollen lip.

Tara nods, eyes half-open still a little dazed from your kiss. When she gathers her bearings, she runs a hand down your half-done tie, tugging you closer. “Definitely.”

"You can tell me more about how worried you were and how fast you were driving too," She whispers against your mouth, using your tie as a leash.

"Are you turned on right now?"

"Kinda... can I drive with the sirens on?" She slides the question in like it was nothing.

"No."

"Buzzkill." She teases but pulls you on top when her back hits the mattress. “I’ll make you change your mind.”

You definitely forgot to make that phone call.

The rest of that morning was spent in between Tara’s sheets, you two hidden away from the world; ignoring the flurry of texts and calls from your work phone. Only leaving her room to grab some food and water, but getting caught in the crossfire of teasings from Tara's friends when they see the hickeys on your neck.

Tara merely strides past you, dressed in nothing but your button-down, stopping for a peck on the lips and grabbing the water from your hands before hiding back in her room to ignore her friends. You don’t miss the cheeky wink she tosses you and the grimace Sam lets out as she watches. Instead, you keep your head down and follow the smaller girl like a lost puppy, ignoring the other's whistles as you do.

And, when you make your way to your desk the next day, a mountain pile of shitty cases for the next month is stacked high as punishment.

You still find it hard to feel any remorse for the no-show.

It was definitely worth it.

– –

:)

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

soooooo after a delightful conversation with @bahng-chrizz about who in ateez and stray kids would cum untouched from eating you out, i made myself extremely unwell. so have this ig. also pls send in mtls and ask nasty questions, i’m a puddle rn and wanna think about it 😮‍💨 anyways have this byeeeeeeeee

changbin just REALLY loves going down on you. like. so much. eating pussy is his favorite pastime. if he’s not working on a song, his head is between your legs. so naturally, when you get a little too enthusiastic and demand to sit on his face, he is far too eager to comply. 50% of the time he doesn’t even make it to undress before he’s hoisting you over him and trapping you by wrapping his ridiculously-beefy arms around your thighs. and 100% of the time, he cums - usually in his pants - before you ever get the chance to touch him.

hyunjin is a SLUT (affectionate). he’s walking sex. he’s a tease. he knows what he’s doing to you every time he flashes the tiniest amount of skin or just barely touches you. he’s not exactly a brat but he lets you treat him like he is because he likes it a little rough. so when your “punishment” is to tie him down and ride his tongue, he’s in heaven. it doesn’t take long before he’s moaning into your pussy, alerting you to his orgasm just as you’re about to tip over the edge yourself.

jisung is just so needy. really, it’s not you demanding you sit on his face, it’s him. he LIVES for your cunt. doesn’t matter what he’s doing to you, he just desperately needs to be touching you at all times, making you feel good. knowing he’s pleasing you gets him off. so he all but begs and tells you that you don’t even have to do anything except allow him to work, and before you know it, both of you are trembling.

felix is truly the best boy. he’s always so good and extremely reactive. his body is so sensitive to your touch. sometimes he hates how easy it is to work him up because he can never last. everything gets to him, even if it’s only slightly erotic. so after he’s collected his jaw off the floor at your request, he complies and sets off to make you cum. you can tell he’s turned on by his low groans and the way his fingers dig into your thighs but you don’t realize just how turned on he is until he makes a choked sound and begins squirming as he spills all over his belly.

seonghwa, like hyunjin, is walking sex. but he’s timid and easily excitable, like felix, and tends to indulge you, no matter what you ask. he’s quick to agree when you ask to sit on his face and before long, he’s guiding your hips back and forth because he knows how much you like when his nose bumps your clit. seeing you fall apart because of his tongue - and nose - has him suddenly whimpering as he soils his boxers.

san isn’t as frenzied as others you’ve been with but he’s certainly passionate about pleasing you. he also loves when you use him. he’s told you before how hot it is to him and he regularly lays back and lets you fuck yourself while he enjoys the view. you notice him bucking his hips into the air moments before you come undone yourself and just as you reach back to help him along, he lets go across his stomach, the visual finishing you off as well.

mingi is the awestruck type. to him, you’re a goddess and sex with you is a religious experience. you even taste heavenly. this regularly drives him mad and he simply must take his time to fully appreciate your taste. he often loses himself in your pleasure and every time you find yourself seated on his face, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, he does it again. the moment you explode on his tongue, he can’t contain himself. the only orgasms that are better than those are the ones where he’s buried deep inside you and you’re reacting the same way he reacts to you - like he’s a god.

wooyoung is the brattiest boy. he regularly challenges you and only offers a shit-eating grin in response. it often lands him in hot water, not that he really cares. but sometimes, when he’s feeling like a good boy - read: he doesn’t think he can handle being punished so retracts all his previous actions and statements - he gives you his all and starts to get lost in you. he devours you and begs for more with a simple pleading expression and when you seem to give in, he cums almost as hard as if you’d been sucking the life out of him.

[smolmousepotato]

Tw: ooc, Boothill x fem!reader, tavern, bad writing ig, cringey i think

Midnight tavern

"What's a pretty lil' thing like ya doin' here eh?"

You can feel a warm waft of air trail the side of your neck as a figure corners you from behind. The night is still young.

You came to this tavern in hopes of drowning the day's fatigue with alcohol, with or without fun, you couldn't care less. But the relieving is a must.

Alone, you sit on a stool by the counter with your usual drink: a blueberry martini.

Your senses can't help but relish in the way the berries and vodka blend and soothe the raging storm within your soul. Everything is washed away, bit by bit along with each sip. By the end of the night, you'd expect a cleansed mood, free of annoyance and exhaust.

But this random guy who had been staring at you from across the counter might just create some more stress for you.

You were talking to the bartender when he rose from your peripheral vision. His tall form caught your attention. You notice the mechanical details on his body and the way he showed them off in a flashingly bold way.

The rim of his hat was overshadowing the half of his face. Gruffly, you see him approach.

The bartender left you with it, being occupied with another client.

And so that leads to you, being pressed against a wall by the man whose name you barely know.

He speaks to you in a low, rough voice with a thick Southern accent, towering his form over you. Chills were sent down your spine, and the alcohol in your system did the effect worse.

It felt hot. Amidst the crowd of the tavern, he traps you in one place, breathing heavily down your neck.

"Tell me."

"Just... for a little relief..." you reply with a quiet voice, looking away from his intense gaze.

"Mm, why do pretty lil' dolls like you need relief eh?"

"Personal stuff. Is it necessary for you to be this nosy?" You grumble, a little annoyed by the close proximity between you two.

"Hm, why, it ain't my business at all, in fact," the man leans back a little, noticing your annoyance. He chuckles, "I was just a lil' curious 'bout this pretty doll right here, so feisty ain't ya?"

"Not your business."

"Of course it ain't, cutie."

"What?"

"What? Got any problems 'bout that nickname I give?"

"Yeah. I don't even know you, and you're throwing nicknames at me."

"Aight, the name's Boothill. Pleasure to know your beautiful name?"

"Why should I even tell you..."

Afterwards, he eventually got your name. He grins and presses a brief little flirty kiss on your lips.

"See ya later, darlin'~"

You wouldn't think of a day you'd see someone's dignity missing like that.

He awaits you the next day you return, flirtatiously gazing at you. You can see him tip his hat.

Day after day, he'd be there, in the same spot you'd found him in since the first day, tipping his hat a little and grinning.

One day you step in to find his absence. A routine image, now you can't help but feel a little empty inside.

You take your seat, order your usual and chillax.

You sigh. Perhaps that flirt was entertaining after all.

Drink after drink, you venture forth beyond your forte, intoxicating yourself by midnight, when the tavern lessens its people.

That is when a certain man walks in, all bloody and staggering. He had a duel with another outlaw and took a bullet in the arm. The blood was the other's.

He sees you, limping over the counter, probably passed out cold. A closer distance; he smells alcohol and a mixed scent of multiple berries.

With a chuckle, he asks the bartender for some bandage and wraps his "wound" up.

His eyes wander back to where you sat, his heart swell with a need to wrap his arms around your form and pick you up.

But that'd be weird if he does, right?

So he tries his best to ignore it and acts casual, walking past you like nothing happened.

——

But she wasn't fully asleep. She can pick up the metallic scent of blood from where she sits, and it alerts her from her slumber.

His steps come to a halt when he felt a light force tugging at his arm. He turns around, a smile gracing his lips.

She, a small little thing who picked up the sense of danger and decided to be awake, though a tad bit sleepy.

"Well, what's this huh?" He chuckles, "clingy all out of a sudden?"

He can hear little grumbles from her, signifying her unclear annoyance towards him.

"Tell me, doll," he swoops in, his arms on the counter, trapping her from above, "would you?"

"Hah?"

"Would you care... if I walk in... this bloody?"

"I mean who doesn't? You look like you were dying."

"Yeaaaah, but still, that's just a side question. Here's the real one dollie, answer it honestly."

"50-50. Depends."

"Stop that."

He leans closer, his lips about to touch the shell of her ear when he whispers, "miss me?"

That sent shivers down her spine, making her weak in the knees and blank in the mind. That caused her heart to race like it's never before.

That makes her realize that she craves his presence.

"No." She spats, feigning annoyance.

———

You hear him chuckle.

"Y'know liars don't get to live so long."

"I wasn't lying."

"Sure thing, hun."

His hand grasps at her chin, pulling it upwards so that her head leans back. Those grey, unique eyes gaze into hers in a certain way that stirs up the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"Mmmh... what a sweet lil' thing, ain't ya?"

A pause of silence, where he looks into your eyes and solidifies you with all those feelings.

"Consent?"

"What?"

"A kiss?"

You look hesitantly at him, but your body has a mind of its own to decide on what must be done. Your hand wanders to the collar of his shirt, gripping it and pulling it down until his lips press against yours.

There was a slight halt in his breathing, as his eyes widened and his lips slightly agaped. But that was a brief moment before he dived right in, carrying passion with his kiss.

Your lips lock in a palpable passion, where your hands grip the back of his head and his hand rubs your body all over.

He chuckles as the kiss breaks. His hand grabs you by the collar and yanks you away from the stool.

"Get down 'ere, you sly lil' minx."

The alcohol in your system exposes you to being a little staggering, and an extra bit of flirtatiousness.

You grin, looking up from your height, into his eyes. There was affection and amusement in those eyes.

And then your lips collide in an intense kiss, once again. His arm wraps itself around your waist and tightens, pulling your body into his, and encouraging you to hold onto him.

So your hands do. They grasp onto his shirt, trying to pull him closer.

His hands then snake themselves under your body and pick you up, carrying you to the inn next to the tavern.

———

And then behind doors, each and every one of their kisses further lightens up the passion that has been suppressed within their hearts in fear of rejection. But now they both accept one another's feelings and are already in the same bed, it's clear that the passion blooms into lust and whatever comes afterward.

Perhaps the cowboy has found his place where he belongs, and so has she.

[bigsexiest]

Early Morning Tripping (not what you think)

Just a little tiny fic I drafted a couple weeks ago. I polished it up hoping its still somewhat cute. Maybe in the future I'll make a fic about early morning tripping (drugs) and it'll be funny.

Word count: 615

tw vaguely described sexy scene ig

Summary: Mountain trips over Rain as he's sleeping in the greenhouse. Rain exacts sweet revenge.

just imagine Mountain, sliding his feet, hunched over, eyes squinted, he's just REALLY tired, walking into his greenhouse at some obscenely early hour of the morning. And he trips over a ghoul.

Yeah, he trips right over Rain.

Rain, who had slithered into the greenhouse after a particularly warm summer night swim.

He meant to just lay down for just a few minutes. He wanted to dry off a bit before trudging back into the ministry to his dry comfy bed.

But the warm humid air of the greenhouse and the soft squishy dirt pathways were just too comfortable. He was out cold in minutes.

He almost doesn't wake up when Mountain tumbles head over heels on top of him. What does wake him up is Mountain's steaming hot coffee splashing everywhere, including on Rain's bare naked skin.

The poor water ghoul, still drowsy with sleep, jumps up and splashes into a large tub of water conveniently sitting on the floor by one of the long tables. Only his tail above the water, flicking back and forth with anger.

Rain can see in the dark, it being so early that the sun hadn't even fully risen. Mountain, on the other hand, was blindly squirming around in the dirt trying to figure out what was happening. He hadn’t remembered leaving anything blocking the pathways. Usually, he could find his way around by memory. Nothing changed so why did he have to worry about tripping over something?

As Rain slowly raises his head from the tub of water to hiss at whatever ghoul had decided to interrupt his sleep, Mountain finally stands up.

Mountain paws at the wall of the greenhouse till he finds the switch to turn all the grow lights on.

The long building is lit in a bright wash of purple. It's just in time for the earth ghoul to see a flash of skin as Rain pounces. Mountain falls to the floor again, with Rain splayed victoriously on top of him.

The rest of the morning is dedicated to revenge. Rain makes sure Mountain is alert without the need for caffeine.

It’s violent and needy—Mountain groans and writhes on the ground under Rain. Rain takes his time destroying the earth ghoul’s resolve. 

Rain leaves claw marks down Mountain’s chest and his tail wraps tightly around his thigh. Mountain’s hands never leave their tight grip on Rain’s hips.

By the end, Mountain is shamelessly begging Rain for release, completely forgetting that the whole incident had originally been Rain’s fault. The water ghoul relishes the deep satisfaction he gets from successfully flipping the blame.

Rain knew it had all been his fault, but he’d rather get splashed with hot coffee again than admit he was at blame for falling asleep. Mountain would never know anyways. He had just been appreciating a cozy spot when he unfortunately might have dozed off. Can a ghoul not enjoy life as it came?

Mountain certainly doesn’t seem to care as he’s chasing his release. Jackhammering into Rain trying to play catch up. Rain certainly hadn’t waited for Mountain, he hadn’t even given a warning that he was close. 

It’s deeply satisfying for Mountain, being able to grind Rain’s hips against his own, holding the water ghoul down as firmly as he feasibly could. That and not having to move a muscle when he was finished. He was already laying down, he could rest right there.

Both ghouls are so tired by the end, they wind up sleeping throught the morning well into the afternoon. 

They are ironically awoken by a certain Multi ghoul tripping over them with his lunch in hand. They both decide to teach him a lesson.

[cozzzynook]

I absolutely love your stories! And I was wondering ig we could get a angst to maybe fluff? Deadlock gets sparked maybe after Ratchet has first Aid? Maybe it was a one time thing and Ratchet and Pharma are tryna fix a relationship-? Maybe Deadlock spots em kiss...he leaves his first bitty f9rst Aid with things and a note and leaves? Maybe he returns when the wars over as drift with a small miniambulance sparkling on his hip when he joins the Lost light, is Ratchet gonna try to fix the relationship between them?

Oooooo the drama

- Deadlock spends a half drunken night with Ratchet who isn’t drunk either. They pretend to be drunk but they aren’t. They’re just too afraid to admit what this could be. Not ready to admit or truly feel the burning that comes in their sparks when near each other. Deadlocks never felt this before and neither has Ratchet. But they tell themselves being on different sides means no, this can only be one night. So they part ways after and the next time Deadlock sees Ratchet he has a sparkling in his arms and he’s leaving a medic behind that doesn’t look done with him.

- deadlock can play off hurting Pharma as being a con wanting to cause chaos but Ratchet knows why he really did it and so he invites him back to his home where he hides Deadlock till the search party leaves.

- with just the two of them plus Ratchets bitty they relax in a way. Deadlock helps Ratchet with First aid who takes so well to Deadlock Ratchet is just bewildered because the bitty hates their sire. That makes Deadlock laugh and in turn First aid laughs for the first time and Ratchets inviting Deadlock over more often but only at night so they don’t get caught.

- this goes on for months until the two are watching First aid sleeping and Ratchet smells so good Deadlock can’t help putting his olfactory sensors at his neck cables and nipping.

- ratchet doesn’t fight him, he encourages him by leaning in and turning to put his servos on Deadlocks hips and he hates how that makes him shiver and allow Ratchet to lead him to the berth.

- Deadlock tries playing the big bad con but he can’t. He melts into Ratchet and feels the mech mend something he thought forever broken.

- he ends up spending the entire next day in Ratchets berth just taking care of First aid and getting his tanks rearranged by Ratchet until night comes and he leaves.

- he feels himself becoming tired more easily and often emotional in a way he never was and knows something is up pretty quickly.

- a quick trip to a clinic in neutral territory and he knows he’s sparked.

- the initial reaction is shock but that soon wears off and he’s thinking of the logical thing to do which is talk to Ratchet who he catches talking to Pharma who is smiling disgustingly mischievous and putting a servo on Ratchet who doesn’t move it.

- he has an idea of what that means and decides yeah, he’s not sticking around to be hurt even more so he leaves. Has his bitty that looks entirely too much like Ratchet and First aid that he named Forceps. The little bitty makes him change from Deadlock to Drift again and he leaves the cons and goes to Crystal city where he learns peace and that he deserves a second chance.

- his bitties home is crystal city and he stays there for a long time until he meets Kup who offers him and his bitty a place in the wreckers where he meets Hot rod who later becomes Rodimus who asks him to join the lost light with his bitty.

- he was skeptical but agreed since Rodimus said he specified for Red Alert to be the crews medic and not Ratchet. Rodimus was his bonded amica so he knew everything and provided Drift a hab with two rooms and plenty of energon along with other former cons that had some sparklings for his own bitty to play with.

- things were fine since Rodimus sparkling sat literally every day for him without complaint. Forceps loved Roddy and as he began to talk he called him Uncle which Roddy loved.

- but good things don’t always last and Rodimus rushed to him pushing him back in his hab the day of the departure looking so upset and afraid. “they switched Red alert last minute to honor his request and they won’t budge. I’m so sorry Drift but..Ratchets coming on board..i’m so sorry. I can get you and ceps off through the back if you want.”

- “don’t even bother taking him through the back kid cause I’ve already seen everything I need to know we need to talk.”

- ratchet stands in the door way that never got to close because he put his servo on it to catch it. He stood there with First aid on his hips who was looking at the adults in the room before seeing a sparkling around his age and he jumped down excited to play with them before either adults could stop them.

-it was scary how similar the two looked and how Drift couldn’t deny Forceps was Ratchets.

- “i’m so sorry Drift,” Roddy looked so guilty but Drift shook his head and asked Roddy to take his sparkling so they could talk. Roddy agreed and looked towards Ratchet to see if he would say the same. “I suppose First aid should know his brother,” Ratchet didn’t look angry but he wasn’t looking happy either.

- roddy took both sparklings to the designated sparkling area leaving Drift and Ratchet to talk.

- there was…frustration and Drift trying to keep distance. He wouldn’t keep Ratchet from seeing Forceps but he didn’t say anything past that. Ratchet automatically said Drift could see First aid as much as he wanted and was grateful he could see his other creation but he wanted more.

- “thats not a good idea. Pharmas here, don’t wanna piss off your boyfriend.”

- “we’re not together. Haven’t been since the day you beat him up.”

“What?”

“Is that why you never came back?”

Ratchet had a sad look on his face plates that still wrenched Drifts spark after all this time.

“I saw you two..the day I was going to tell you. He was leading you into the house with his servo on you. You didn’t take it off so I just knew you were getting back together.. guess I should’ve asked.”

Ratchet couldn’t fault him since he and Pharma were trying to get back together but the spark was gone and Ratchet didn’t recognize the mech anymore. Something in Pharma had changed and he no longer wanted the mech around him or First aid.

He told Drift as much and he would later be proven correct when Pharma betrayed them and endangered not only him and Drift and the entire crew but the sparklings on board, the sparked mechs and femmes aboard and his own sparkling along with Ratchets second sparkling.

But for the time being, the two were agreed on being co-creators.

Though they would later be conjunx welcoming a third bitty that could still be hidden by ceremonial robes on Drift.

That and Roddy’s loud mouth keeping everybot distracted while Megatron tried to keep Roddy from doing something too stupid along with Minimus.

Things ended up just fine.

-

This is not the story you were asking for but i started writing and looked up to remember the rest and saw i fragged up…and didn’t wanna start over…i’m sorry 😭

[kpopandbookschild]

Fanfic idea #9

spoiler alert: one slight spoiler for crooked kingdom. read if you want.

ok so this time, straying off of the kpop, we go six of crows.

my most recent book crush has been ehem... jesper. and wylan.

now, i tend to only read/write fem reader or gn reader, because i'm a girl.

jesper is bi, ik that. wylan is... is wylan gay? or bi? are we ever told? if someone knows for sure let me know.

anyways, either a jesper x reader/oc, wylan x reader/oc, or the two of them together (wesper) x reader/oc.

i hate breaking up canon couples, so that was the fix.

anyways.

plot.

this would probably take place after ck, but with Mattias still with us. mostly because i want nina.

anyways, the reader/oc is a street/ring fighter. like, this is the barrel, ok. there has to be this kind of stuff.

anyways, kaz needs her for smthn, a mission or whatever. and jesper dont like her for some reason (enemies to loverssss or friendsss if wylan is the only love interest, but i feel this is more jesper or wesper coded than wylan) anyways, she meets the team, stuff happens, they go see her fights, yada yada, she scary.

then like, something happens. maybe her employer (though it would probably be more like inej's situation with an indenture or smthn but fight-y, but idk what that's called) doesn't like whenthey forfeight a match or whatever and is all "fight to the death or win" kinda guy. she forfeights, all beat up whatever, then more beat up by boss guy. or she protects a younger fighter. or a healer. or something.

anyways, something happens, then kaz needs her to come talk to him about the mission or something and sends love interest(s) (jesper, wylan, or wesper) so get her. then we have a soft/angst "let me help you" and "who did this to you."

yeah. that's when jesper and her start to get along and then BOOM story goes on but i have no more ideas.

also, being pinned to a wall. like, enemies to lovers, hello. specifically with a gun to her head or a knife to her neck. like, why is that so hot? but you can't have enemies to lovers without it, i stand by that.

there you go!

i want this!

if anyone writes this tag me plsssss!

if you know of a fic like this sendddd me itttttt even if its only remotely similar, i need this.

Edit: Wylan is gay, confirmed. so therefore, if wylan is a love interest, male reader, or ig gn reader too...? maybe? idk. anyways, there you have it

[notasapleasure]

(Sorry prepare to be asked about many Lymond fics lol) But…. St Seb? Jerott whump? Feelings?👀👀

Hmm, this is one of those where I think I had a lot more of it 'scripted' in my head than ever actually made it down into the notes file. Some of it made it into bullet points, but I think I could never quite reconcile the 'way in' I found - the outsider perspective of young Walter Scott with the desire to show the Big Feels of Jerott and Francis's conversation first hand.

The idea was that a relative of Austin's heard Jerott was back in the country anyway, and decided to take his own revenge - with arrows because it's quieter than gunfire and Jerott does hang about with a lot of rather accomplished military men.

Mainly I wanted to put Jerott in a position where he has to tell Francis he loves him, then put Francis in a furious flap about not wanting to have heard that (because of the circumstances precipitating it and the fear that having unburdened himself Jerott might not fight so hard to live) with the guilt at being the reason Jerott came back to a place where Grays were seeking vengeance >:3 I think it also involved Danny angst as he supposed Jerott's feelings for Francis were going to override anything else, so when Jerott is actually recovered enough to expand on his admission it's to everyone's surprise and delight that what he admits feeling for Francis is something he's reconciled himself to in a way that he doesn't imagine acting on, and actually it's something he needed to get off his chest so he could deal with the more immediate problem of being in love with Danny. (yeah ig Danny sure is Irene)

Notes and what was written beneath the cut.

Gathering kine from a hot trod with young Scotts (Walter Scott, 4th Earl Buccleuch, b. 1549, Queen's captain 1566)

J sends Scott back and goes to round up stragglers himself

Someone has spread salt to distract them by a woodland

Jerott suspicious but confused, sword drawn to herd cattle with the flat of the blade

Young Grey gets him first, from close, neck/shoulder

Bend to horseback to make himself a smaller target, starting to back away before he wheels

Second shot to chest/side

Gets his pistol, remembers Austin, left-handed shot that would be on target if not for concurrent third shot to the leg

Wounds Grey who flees, shot alerts Lymond

Rides back to group, manages to loose stirrups so when he falls he's not dragged

Lymond makes some comment about overkill and strong tempers, rides back with young Scott

Sees Jerott's horse and flips (subtly)

Goes straight for woods after shouting Archie etc to where J fell

Danny has to fetch him: J is calling for him

Scathing about what he can do for him, everyone perplexed by his venom

But he goes and is quite soft at first, trying to find out who fired the arrows

J wants to tell him something else, F knows and won't let him - Archie etc think it's hard because they think he's not going to make it

Francis : "He's been taking orders his whole life, he'll take this one too."

Jerott still makes him hear it though Francis says he'll regret it when he comes round in comfort at St Mary's

Francis storms round in more of a mood than anyone has seen in an age, swearing vengeance on the Greys with uncharacteristic fury

Until J comes to, is able to stand by what he said and defuse some of F's anger

The fourth Baron of Buccleuch, a lank lad in his mid-teens, reined in his horse and let his exasperation be known. He was to be a commander of men, and in his troop that fresh day were soldiers who had seen more of fighting than even his widely renowned grandfather. Veterans and mercenaries, counts, generals and chevaliers, each had submitted to the orders of young Walter Scott, son of William of Kincurd.

Under Walter's direction, a solid threescore of Scots kine had been recovered before the English border and were now being driven back to their accustomed byres. Surrounded by their rain-hardened, hairy flanks, by their lowing and their shitting and the clanking of their bells, Walter should have been able to wallow in the sensation of success.

Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at the stragglers who had peeled away towards a little copse. He wished to be a commander of men, not of cattle, and some of the Scottish animals had evidently discerned this, choosing to test his control by asserting their independence.

Red curls framed Walter's face beneath his polished steel bonnet, his heavy covering of freckles defied the colour staining his cheeks, and he raised his leather gauntlets to his chest as his mount reared its head under pressure of the bit. He shouted after the kine, but they did not change their course. He prepared to ride back for them, knowing full well that this level of responsibility had come to none of the other men so young, and all had first cut their teeth on the roundup before earning their captaincies. If he asked another of them to go on his order, he would deserve to be told to learn the dirty work for himself first.

Walter was surprised then, when the new man called over and waved to Walter to ride on. He was some friend of the Count's, broad-shouldered and hazelnut-skinned, with a great sword that had shed the blood of the infidel and a sardonic, severe look in his eyes.

"Are ye certain?" Walter bellowed over the sound of the herd.

The other man shrugged and turned his horse laconically, though no movement of his hands on the reins or his legs at the sides had been visible. "It's been a long enough night. I may be out of practice, but I'll still have them back faster than you, lad."

Walter paused, mouth gaping in annoyance. Then he decided that it wasn't a task worth squabbling over and nodded in what he presumed was an authoritative manner. "Thank ye."

The man, Blyth his name was - originally from some mercantile family who had long since left the country - raised a bare hand in acknowledgement as he rode back towards the copse. He'd come from Malta, they said. Had fought for the cross and battled pirates. It left Walter a little in awe, but he wasn't sure how much he could believe it, after all - why on earth would a man like that choose to come back to the borders to police families tussling over livestock?

-

It had rained through the night but the morning had come meek and clothed in the sun's silvery rays. The sky was gauzy: delicate satins overlaid by lacy clouds, a curtain that trailed its misty hem across the hills and moors. Long and rich, the grass was aquamarine studded with dewy pearls, darkening where hooves trampled through it. The Borders smelled of life.

Jerott Blyth took in greedy lungfuls of the wet air, happy to feel the chill of it in his arms. He squeezed his knees to the saddle and his horse swished its tail and broke into a trot, and he felt the dew from the grass spatter his cheeks as it was cast high by his horse's passing hooves.

The cattle, three twist-horned old milkers, red and white patched and better travelled than their young captain Buccleuch, had settled to graze on the edge of a straggling copse made up of thin aspens and holly. Jerott pushed the brim of his helmet back with a thumb and hailed the cows, clicking his tongue for their attention and thinking how much simpler this would be than organising panicked farmers among the ruins of St Elmo's.

He slowed his horse to a walk and circled the stubborn grazers. Something had certainly captured their attention among the wet grasses and cowslips, worth rooting out between the strong scented leaves of ramps and their nodding white flowers. Jerott gave a shout and was rewarded with a stare from a single pair of impassive brown eyes, raised momentarily from grazing, and no sign of intent to move otherwise.

He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes, and with a smooth gesture drew the great hand-and-a-half sword at his side and slapped the flat of it against the nearest beast's hindquarters.

The cow flinched, its legs jolting and head raised. It took a couple of steps though, and Jerott rode between it and the edge of the trees, turning it in the direction Buccleuch's party had ridden. He cast a frown at the trampled, muddied grass and noticed crystalline points of white among the greenery. It looked like salt, chipped from a block of lick and scattered down here where passing beasts might scent it.

Jerott looked about to discover the extent of the trail, and hefted his sword, thinking to give the beast another encouraging blow.

There, beneath the overhanging boughs of aspen with their fluffy pink catkins, a gust of wind shielded Jerott from all other sounds. The limbs of the trees sighed and the holly leaves scratched drily against one another and the bark of surrounding saplings. A magpie let out a cackling cry and the wings of a wood pigeon clattered desperately against the wind.

The shuff of metal and wood and grey goose feather rending the air was camouflaged. Jerott's eyes were on the puzzle of the chips of salt, his mind was on the broth waiting at St Mary's and the dry clothes in his chamber and the things he would discuss later with Francis and Danny and Adam and Archie. He was surprised to hear himself grunt, did not know why he raised his free hand at first, why it seemed worth dropping the reins to do so.

There was a shadow in the corner of his eye, like a tree-branch come too close, and it was accompanied by a deepening, spreading pain in his shoulder. He could not turn his face towards it: agony clamped hard on his muscles and he realised that he had been shot.

The arrow shaft pointed skywards, a freakish protrusion from Jerott's collar. His fingertips discovered the entry point, which grew hot and liquid with welling blood. It set contrary waves of cold pumping over his body, shock gnawing on his nerves and his concentration, and Jerott tried to draw a deep breath to counter it.

Pain drove its claws deep into his chest when he did so. It felt like the gesture somehow drew the missile further into his flesh and a cry of discomfort was yanked from between his gritted teeth. Around him, the cattle twitched their ears at the sound, but did not let it interrupt their feasting.

Jerott's body sagged over his horse's neck, and he dropped his left hand to catch himself on the saddle pommel, his sword achingly heavy in his other hand. He made himself suck in air, he drove the blackness from the edges of his vision with one determined thought, and he reminded himself that as the arrow had not finished its work then neither had he.

Training shut down panic with the ruthlessness of a portcullis descending. His body shook but he did not acknowledge it or cede to its demands. Energy rushed through the courses of his body, driven by the need to act.

His attacker had to be close for the shot to have penetrated the fabric of his plate-lined jack. The bracken had died back and the aspens were bare of leaves, but there was cover among the holly. Jerott did not worry about the number of his assailants or their motives for now - what he needed was distance, and the protection of his own cover. The rest of the hot trod would be too far to hear him hail, so he needed to manage this on his own. Jerott regathered the reins in his left hand and flexed the fingers of his right, though the grip of his sword still slipped in his palm before he secured it.

He turned his horse to face the trees and guided it in a sideways, circling trot as he searched the greens and browns for anything amiss. As he moved, he hoped to increase the tree cover between him and the archer, or to force the archer into revealing themselves.

The next shot he dodged, assisted by an impatient gust of wind that took the arrow away to his right. He knew then that they had expected one hit to suffice and that they lacked a great deal of experience in the matters of ambush: Jerott pinned his eyes on the spot the arrow had been fired from and tried to lift his sword, suspecting that a charge would flush them out in a panic. If he could get there quickly enough. His legs tightened on his horse's sides and he rested his right fist against his thigh, forcing the sword blade into the air.

The breeze swirled and he felt it cold in his wound, but it benefitted the archer this time, and though he twisted his body away from the missile, his movement was slowed by his stiffening shoulder. Jerott anticipated the impact, knowing the jack would take the brunt of it, but he had been travelling towards it this time, and his curse was swept up by the wind when he felt iron pierce cloth and plate and flesh below and his body was knocked backwards in the saddle.

He controlled his breathing as well as he could, but with a second arrow shaking in his chest it was more difficult to keep regret from seeping into his thoughts. He had come back to Scotland to settle an account on a topic that he still did not know how to broach, he had survived war and rout and siege only to have the possibility of closure snatched by some green coward intent on stealing a handful of old milch cows.

Pain pulling his mouth into a sneer of disgust, Jerott let his shoulders hunch forwards. He made his body look heavy, though his heart felt like a hare trapped behind his ribs. He slackened his fist and the sword's leather-wound handle stuck momentarily to his sweaty palm before falling heavily to the mud-churned grass. He reached for the arrow in his centre and shook at the agony in his shoulder as he did so.

When, faltering, he let his right hand drop to the saddle, he knew that then the activity of both hands was hidden from the treeline by his horse's neck. He fumbled single-mindedly with fingers grey and shivering in the pouch at his belt, extracting a bullet as his other hand loosed his gun. Loading it was a messy process, between his feigned swoons and the genuine ones, but then, still hunched in pain, he cast his head back to view the woods again.

The archer had stepped from the holly bush. A lone figure in clothes that were plain but smart, holding his bow strung as he squinted at Jerott, he did not look like a rustler, nor an assassin. He was unfamiliar; a no one.

Jerott's exhausted grimace turned into a grin as he raised his pistol left-handed and fired.

The archer's eye's widened and he raised his bow.

Bullet struck and arrow struck, and Jerott's gun dropped not far from where he had lost his sword.

-

The sound of a pistol shot reached Walter Scott and the men under his command. Walter pulled his horse up short and turned, his hand at his sword, his eyes round as marbles.

It was the Count who reached him first, his exquisitely fine features wearing an expression of mild peevishness.

"What was that?" Walter asked him, and the Count of Lymond and Sevigny looked him up and down with gentle bemusement.

"I should say it was gunfire, but there are surely more pertinent questions."

Walter swallowed. "Yeah, who?"

"Why?" The Count added. "Have you seen any sign of pursuit?"

"No," Walter hesitated, realising he had not been looking for it. "The only ones after are a few kine that went over to that copse we passed - yer friend Blyth offered to go after them."

The Count did not blink. If his lips paled one could not be sure under the bright morning sky, and the languid shift of his shoulders might have betokened anything.

His voice was smooth as ice, too. "Tell Hislop and Blacklock. Get Archie Abernethy from the front."

Walter frowned, sensing that he had ceded command, though Lymond generously left its illusion in his hands.

"And tell them what?" Walter tried not to let panic into his voice, seeing the Count's keen blue eyes had shifted to the horizon and would not be moved as he gathered himself and his horse. "It was just ane shot, it might not even ha' been Blyth."

The Count did not look at him as his horse broke into a trot. "It was. And he's not likely to be taking pot shots at the magpies."

Easing into a faster pace, Lymond rode off, leaving Walter to face the rest of the hot trod, which was now a messy column of men and cattle, some looking at him, others pointedly gazing elsewhere, two or three with eyes on Lymond, their accustomed commander, as he left.

"I need Hislop, Blacklock and Abernethy," Walter shouted, though his voice cracked as he did.

The men were already making their way towards him. The mercenary Danny Hislop shook his bare head of fine, fluffy curls and smiled sweetly. "It's nice of you to say so, Sir Walter, but we know it's Francis who called."

"Where's Jerott?" Blacklock - pencil thin, dark-haired, with a permanent air of unease - arrived at a trot.

"Well, that's it," Walter said uneasily. What was it that he was about to tell these three men about their friend?

"Ye, ah, ye heard the gunshot?"

"Stupid bastard," Hislop cursed immediately, wheeling his horse in the direction Lymond had ridden.

"How?" Blacklock breathed, but the question in his eyes was for his fellows. "It's a simple hot trod, what's he done?"

Only Archie Abernethy remained steady, his broad brown brow furrowed like a walnut. "Tell us what ye ken, lad."

Walter's shoulders sagged in relief. Abernethy was capable of reassuring even when one did not know what one might have done wrong. He related the conversation with Lymond and emphasised that Blyth had volunteered to ride back for the stray cattle.

"Is that his horse?" Hislop interrupted, just as Walter was starting to feel he had a handle on the situation once more.

Blacklock swore, and when his quiet - and, to Walter, astonishing - stream of invective ended, he heard Lymond's voice calling from the other side of the ridge they had just crossed.

Blyth's tall bay horse was ambling uneasily across the grass, its reins trailing and head down. Now and then it paused and glanced back, as though confused to find itself alone.

No command could have stayed the other men now, and Walter was left flapping his heels against his own mount's flank as he tried to keep pace with Hislop, Blacklock and Abernethy. He paused to sweep up the reins of Blyth's horse and turned it back to wherever it had left its rider.

Walter could now see the other men converging on a spot about halfway up the gentle rise of land below the ridge. At the bottom of the valley was a narrow, rocky stream, and the copse sprawled darkly on the opposite bank. The young Scott let out a sound of exasperation when he saw that the three errant cows remained busy at their grazing, unconcerned with the human drama they were witness to.

A man, it had to be Blyth, lay flat on the wet grass. Lymond bent over him, and as Walter watched, the Count pulled a binding tight about the prone man's leg, stood and snapped something at Abernethy, then re-mounted and rode away to the woods.

Blyth must have lived yet, but the Buccleuch could not say how. When he got near, Walter counted three arrows in Blyth's body: shoulder, abdomen and thigh. The latter had released a great deal of blood, and Abernethy was in the process of reinforcing the tourniquet Lymond had applied. The chevalier's dark skin had paled to a sickly green reflection of the vegetation that soaked his hair and clothes, and his hands lay open and bloodied at his sides.

Blacklock took one of the limp sets of fingers and held it in his grip as Abernethy assessed the damage done by the other arrows. Hislop dismounted, but would not go near, and paced uneasily at Abernethy's back, his white face turned towards Blyth's unresponsive expression.

[batsplat]

god i love buffy the vampire slayer but i love the fact that you love buffy even more. it’s such a joy to share an appreciation for something with a person you hold in high regard, like yay, i’m glad we like the same thing!!!

ohhhh that's so sweet idek what to say.... it was actually my bday recently and my mum sent me a parcel with a bunch of like, bat-themed things, and one of them was this very cute buffy purse/pencil case!! it's already very very dear to me like I WILL take this thing everywhere

anyway yeah buffy is like. my number one comfort show I reckon. still revisit it a lot... it's very rewarding for that, one of those things where my relationship to it has also changed/grown up over time and I always find different bits of the show that become important to me. like, I always have been a big season 6 fan (hot take alert ig), but there's a lot of episodes of that season that have become weirdly comforting to me despite objectively being very bleak... buffy that season very much breaks me idk, just one of those pieces of media that end up becoming super personal!! don't think there's anything I associate more with the process of Growing Up than I do buffy... a show that really got how awful everything is and how you do just have to try and live this life anyway. but not in a trite way, somehow, just in a way that kinda gets u where u are (it did me, anyway). also I do watch the s3 faith episodes like. all the time lol. and the s4 and s7 faith eps... my beloved beloved disaster girl... "deep down you have always wanted buffy to accept you, to love you even" why would they SAY that.........

anyway psa that anyone can always feel free to hop into my inbox to chat about buffy

[electaaaaa]

HOT TAKE ALERT HOT TAKE ALERT

Y’all can 100% shit on vivsiepop for her treatment of workers, she’s a piece of shit

but like with the amounts of shit talk about the writing, characters, ect is *wild* and like especially wack when it comes to harmless character design. The shit about belezabub or whatever is just really intense for what is essentially a glorified sparkle dog fursona. “The character writing is terrible” or “the fandom is toxic” block the tags ig? Like if y’all don’t like the show you can just not watch it lmao.

[nerdtronica]

every tmbg album in a nutshell

idc if i skipped albums it's my post my choice

THE PINK ALBUM 1: paranoia??????? 2: puppet heads 3: writer's block 4: i hate my life 5: oh no home invasion 6: why did my gf leave me :( 7: i'm a dad 8: kids with rabies are weird 9: the beatles suck ass ngl 10: FGEBUHIWJOKPOFJEH(W*)POKD 11: aNgeLS aRe rEaL 12: MY DOG FUCKING DIED 13: okay what the fuck 14: schizophrenia 15: disfigurement is cool 16: i don't wanna fucking die 17: stereotyping is real guys 18: huh 19: idk what this song is about but it's silly

LINCOLN 1: long distance relationship 2: MOOFBEHUJWIRU#*u9IKM 3: don't do drugs 4: male pattern baldness 5: parodies are fun 6: childhood nightmares amiright? 7: is this a metaphor for being a piece of shit 8: don't be sad bro 9: goddamn i sure love war 10: HAHA PUNS 11: abusive relationships frfr 12: fuck santa claus 13: fuck the haters 14: DIVORCE :D 15: whaaaaaat theeeeee fuuuuck 16: handstands are cool ig 17: i am going to kms 18: manipulating people to get what you want is awesome

FLOOD 1: self-advertising 2: nightlights are epic 3: COWBOY DIVORCE 4: history is cool 5: reincarnation 6: DON'T BE RACIST I AM A BUILDING 7: this can be a metaphor for anything 8: it's not the 1960's dude 9: cool rocks 10: stop moving chairs KYLE it's not cool 11: old people 12: this one's for all those lower-class workers 13: birds are so epic 14: more like taking a shit in the park 15: who the fuck is this guy 16: cave people 17: abusive relationships AGAIN 18: self-advertising AGAIN 19: the goddamn berlin wall

APOLLO 18 1: death lol 2: palindromes are so epic 3: enlarged to show texture 4: doppelgangers bro :( 5: biology class 6: is this about drugs 7: everyone skips this song 8: guitars are epic 9: pavlov's dog 10: why do they love singing about hateful relationships 11: why is this intro so fucking long 12: is this about jesus 13: wooooaaaaahh space 14: don't be shy bro 15: DEATH!!!!! 16: magicians 17: my adhd brain 18: oh finally an instrumental

JOHN HENRY 1: dreaming about death XD LOL 2: snails are amazing 3: getting stoned is cool 4: COWBOY DIVORCE AGAIN?? 5: LEAN 6: this song was made for neurodivergents (in a good way) 7: french is cool 8: alice cooper is so fucking cool 9: does anyone even like this song 10: why does this song even exist bro 11: jail and greek philosophers 12: religious cults 13: this is apollo 18 all over again 14: it's giving tomorrow never knows by the beatles 15: SPOILER ALERT: james ensor 16: "it's too hot" "it's too cold" OH MY GOD AN EXPLOSION 17: stalker 😒 18: roblox jailbreak 19: what 20: woah this is darker than i thought it would be

FACTORY SHOWROOM 1: whore slut bitch cunt 🥰🥰🥰 2: drugs? AGAIN???? 3: transgender 4: i see dead people 5: song of the summer 6: the original song was better 7: dysfunctional family 8: new wave battle 9: hypnotist of ladies's evil cousin 10: presidents are cool 11: ya like jazz 😏 12: I HEAR YOU 13: this is like take me to church by hozier but cooler

LONG TALL WEEKEND 1: oh my god we get another instrumental 2: mink car foreshadowing 3: lesley gore is an icon 4: rats are awesome 5: oh no we lost our token 6: mink car foreshadowing again 7: women are epic 8: this is such a vibe 9: evil 10: violence and killing and murder and crimes :3 11: nuh uh 12: oh shit we got lost oh fuck 13: shhhh don't cry 14: backwards shit 15: thomas edison is a bitch

MINK CAR 1: i love your hair 2: i don't need haters 3: overstimulation 4: goofy ahh 5: this is so corny-2000's-boy-band-love-song-core 6: i am a vampire be afraid 7: aw man you're just a sombrero 8: groovy 9: i am miserable 10: alcoholism 11: it's like that one meme 12: lmao you're so fucking old (psst you're gonna die soon) 13: omg i got run over by a fucking bedazzled car 14: evil skrunkly 15: stop fucking lying 16: who even- 17: james bond inspector gadget idk

THE SPINE 1: homestar runner 2: why is kermit here 3: working in an office is cool 4: holy shit this is so good 5: tomfoolery 6: beach boys reference 7: i hate bastards 8: later on.... 9: abusive relationships back at it again 10: caffeine got me like 11: CUNTY 12: french AGAIN?? 13: HOORAY 14: broke in two like a glowstick 15: writer's block makes a comeback 16: sobbing rn

THE ELSE 1: sarcasm at it's finest 2: YOU DON'T NEED THAT BASTARD IN YOUR LIFE GIRL 3: turn that frown upside down 4: someone call an exorcist 5: coraline moment 6: AHOY THERE MATEYS 7: bruh it's so dark. i guess i'm WITH THE DARK HAHAHA 8: omg clone high reference?? 9: woah that's fucked up 10: damn it my hope just withered 11: bro i need my dictionary 12: amnesia moment 13: it is not the late fourth millennium BC

JOIN US 1: fuck everyone and everything 2: hey girl are you a girl because you look like a girl 3: you're crazy😂😂😂 4: cryptids are epic 5: shut the fuck up you bitch 6: rapunzel 7: woohoo 8: i am a gifted burnout kid 9: can you die rn lmao 10: okay so what 11: ily judy 12: in my hopeless romantic era 13: this is such a vibe 14: don't text and drive 15: dogs 16: what year is it 17: what 18: "i don't like this song" AND IT DOESN'T LIKE YOU EITHER

NANOBOTS 1: go to the fucking hospital 2: what the fuck does this even mean 3: huh 4: this is so fire 5: scooby-doo ahh song 6: my mom died 7: fuck elon musk 8: i must eep 9: FIRE SONG ABOUT REBELLION 10: i am going to go cry 11: fuck the past this is the present 12: shhh these are 9 secret steps 13: bees love your mind 14: hmmmmm 15: nouns are epic 16: ROBIN GOLDWASSER 17: insects and hospitals 18: predicament 19: ooh funky 20: weirdcore bitches be like 21: WHO'S DAVE 22: tiktok alt kids be like 23: and why he eepy 24: such a vibe 25: you can't kill me haha

GLEAN 1: a beautiful mix of death and love 2: i love being alive dude 3: new superhero idea MARVEL GET ON IT 4: this is goofy ahh 5: bro i'm just tryna get you to like me 6: wow what an amazing connection to the real world 7: fight me 8: it's giving musical 9: boyfriends suck 10: incoherent 11: i'm sorry women 12: stop being a pussy 13: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 14: TRES BON 15: MORE INSTRUMENTALS???

PHONE POWER 1: you're crazy bro 2: ily but not like that 3: kidnappings are fire 4: imagination! 5: stop being mean to detroit 6: goofy ahh 7: bloody noses bro 8: i thought this was gonna be like that matt & kim song 9: 4th of july 🦅🇺🇲 10: cryptids again 11: dial-a-song song 12: shut up bitch imma haunt you 13: what this title makes no sense 14: i'm sorry woman 15: woah shapeshifting 16: better than the original frfr on god no cap big facts 17: okay... 18: self-advertisement

I LIKE FUN 1: is this gonna be over bro 2: astral projection 3: AAAA AAAAAA 4: back in my day 5: salty ass bitch 6: this slaps so hard 7: I LIKE FUN BRO 8: banger 9: microphone 10: take a walk on the sunny side 11: turn on the lights 12: aaa nessie 13: what 14: nick offerman 15: WE DIE ALONE WE DIE AFRAID WE LIVE IN TERROR WE'RE NAKED AND ALONE AND THE GRAVE IS THE LONELIEST PLACE

BOOK 1: just to refresh your memory (our last album was from 2018) 2: aaaah di ahh di ah di ah di yay 3: everyone hates me bro 4: CAN'T CUT IT AS AN ARTIST 5: snow 6: it's not just for winnipeg 7: aw man what happened to my dream 8: stupid clown 9: poison is epic 10: where the fuck is thursday 11: you wanna believe me but you can't 12: i'm super cool 13: hmmm 14: i ain't a clown 15: 0 is less than 1

[craftgarden]

Jalapeño Tub Intro

the red circle is not actually in the bucket i drew it on the image so i could show where i planted the garlic. spoiler alert ig. i planted the 3 other garlic cloves from the head of garlic i had in my fridge for a month in this tub. it used to have 2 other jalapeño plants but i put them in another pot for an experiment. the four plans on the edges are also jalapeño plants and they look good aside from their leaves drooping. i should have watered them sooner but i gave them a nice drink today and i bet by tomorrow they’ll have their leaves back to normal. i probably wont top these plants just to keep it simple this first season and because the topping will be done to the other jalapeño plants i repotted that i will talk about in a bit. they already have flowers on the top but i think i’ll prune those off today so they can focus more on their roots and stems and less on growing flowers and fruiting. i hope to make some hot sauce with the peppers but they’ll also be good on a sandwich. the garlic will just be fun to grow. the “pot” i am using is an old storage tub with holes melted into the bottom for drainage. also the leaving the garlic in the fridge for a month is important because the garlic needs to think it went through winter for vernalization to take place and for an actual head of garlic to form. idk what vernalization is yet but i will at some point. 

[frosteee-variation]

man, i suck at coming up with questions. uhhhh. tell me about one of your ocs

anon you don’t know what you unleashed with that comment and that comment alone /lh /j

ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK A HOT SEC I. AM GOING TO WRITE A LOT. YOU ASKED FOR ONE BUT CHANCES ARE I MIGHT MAKE A FOLLOW UP POST TALKING ABOUT THE OTHER ONE BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH TIED TOGETHER STORY-WISE

okay okay okay okay. so. so. technically the closest thing i’ve got to “true” ocs and the ones who i haven’t talked about enough on here are the sacares. cinis and vindi sacare. and dear god do they have a lot going on with them. holy SHIT do they have a lot going on with them.

so so so so SO for context as well they’re being used in a roleplay thing I’ve got going on with some friends where it’s like pretty much an isekai ig but a) I’m not that versed in anime and b) everyone’s from different universes and they’re all fucked in one way or another so spoiler alert they both die but we’ll get to that

So the Sacares. Like, as a whole. The Sacares were this family/order of paladins, right? Monster hunters. Their whole deal was serving the goddess of luck by maintaining the natural sort of “balance” of their plane by taking out unnatural threats that were kind of like invasive species almost. The undead. The eldritch. Demons. Things like that! Sort of things that would bring misfortune in one way or another.

Anyways, the Sacares were pretty damn renowned. Like, high-status. Near-noble. Which figures! They have a reputation! They’re very strict with training and such!!

So Cinis Sacare was one of the newer generation. And combat-wise? He was pretty good! He used a greatsword and was pretty unwieldy, but he had grit and charm and ended up becoming something of a figurehead for the Sacares socially. He was the guy who you saw in the street and recognized, and it usually meant good fortune when you did. I mean, there could be monsters abound, but also he could have just been going for a walk. He was a chill guy overall, y’know? Devout paladin, but also just sort of a goofy fella and that made him a pretty great conversationalist.

So one day the Sacares got word of this eldritch plant-thing going and taking over a town’s crops. Like, TAKING OVER. Imagine like invasive kudzu but if it had vines as thick as a redwood’s roots and was both spined and also had hints of Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors. Not fun. Luckily though, they’ve dealt with these types of things before and go in a group to face it. They go and observe the place for a while, try their best not to disturb anything or trigger any sort of reaction out of the plant. And they do pretty well!

unnnnntil cinis, having been told his entire life that he’s pretty much The Guy of All Time™ and is virtually unstoppable, decides that it would be a GREAT idea to just cut to the chase and start striking the thing.

Cinis realizes way too late that he is! VERY unprepared!! And he dies!!! The first time, at least. Stay with me for a second.

You know cordyceps, yeah? Zombie ant fungus? You know how useful it would be for a big eldritch carnivorous plant to have a part of itself walking around that could actually kill things without having to wait for them to come to it first? Especially something with a massive cleaver of a weapon, training, and armor? Pretty useful!!

So Cinis gets zombified. Ish? I don’t know where that one post is about necrobotany using plants and such to fill in for muscles and such but that’s what happens. He’s still left with his sentience, though. It repairs him and pretty much holds him to “kill things and feed them to me or die for good/kill us both” sort of deal, and he’s stuck in that situation now. He tries to go to the Sacares and go “hey guys I’m alive actually” but he immediately gets exiled so now it’s just sort of a bad situation all around. He revokes his weapon, picks up an old woodcutter’s axe in its stead, and heads off to wander for a while.

Now, being held together by bone and bark are uh. Not. Really good. For the state of you. Not wanting to bring harm to others, he mostly sticks to the woods and outskirts, still fighting monsters because it’s a) all that he really knows and b) he still wants to help people despite everything that happened. And I mean, it’s a compromise? The plant’s fed, he’s not eating people, it’s alright for the time being. He dons a cloak to hide his identity alongside the slow decay and starts being seen as this sort of “monster in the woods” legend. He doesn’t mind it, though. (he actually kind of does it’s just that he’s of the mind that he’d be the same way if he was faced with himself and instead internalizes the whole thing while continuing to try his best)

Anyways, this goes on for. A while. A good amount of years. He gets a reputation, but nobody ever bothers to actually get to know the guy. Because. Y’know. Flesh-eating plant zombie. Most of him more vine than human at this point, to the point where he’s like 7 feet tall because a) the sacares are pretty fucking tall in the first place (like 6 feet) and b) it’s a little hard to keep human proportions when you’re. y’know. again. a monstrous plant.

So one day he walks into a village. He’s started doing this on occasion, just rarely. Just to trade things and check up on people on all that because he still cares. More jaded, less sociable, definitely more intimidating, but it’s not like anyone would recognize him as the dead Cinis Sacare, yeah? And it’s not like anyone’s going to bother him if they worry that he can maul them, so we’re good.

But actually!! Just kidding! Someone caught word of his presence in the woods because he lingers around those areas for a few weeks in general and gathers an angry mob to take him down! Specifically, a Sacare does it! So everything’s kind of fucked and he can’t really get out of that situation and he dies a second time!!

Andddd that’s where the whole roleplay bit comes in so he’s back but like. Somewhere else. And everyone’s also just as fucked and wholly unfamiliar with his world’s deal so they’re just sort of chill with him because to them he’s this weirdly tall dude who may or may not be made of plants who also said one time that if they wanted to see what was at the bottom of a mountain that he could “probably make that” with no explanation whatsoever.

He’s still a little goofy. He’s still pretty compassionate! He’s just. Ough. Man’s seen all of The Horrors. But it’s fine probably because we’re all doing this for character arcs with our OCs and hopefully we can find a solution to. All of that.

either way i love cinis sacare he’s so so so silly to me <3

[sunshine-photo-frame]

now I'm not saying I condone bullying, however Megamimd facing bullying in his childhood gave him two things:

DOPE fashion sense

DOPE music taste

and for that we should be THANKING the bullying that made him a better person... character development

[strawbxrryneptune]

Breathe, baby

Personal trainer!Southern!Bakugou

Porn with plot, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism??, praise ig, implied pining, my shitty endings

Masterlist

♡♡

You loved the gym.

Not because you liked working out .

It was a pain when you woke up sore, or when you got sticky with sweat, even though the high of a workout is always worth it, and it meant you could finally fit into that tiny skirt from the mall you saw last week.

What you loved was how your undeniable attraction towards your new personal trainer made for good entertainment.

Katsuki Bakugou.

He was beautiful, new in your city, came from some place down south, and you're sure he knew every time he saw you how much you wanted him.

You couldn't stop gawking, always looking at his ass when he showed you how to do the squats, doing over his pure strength when he did pull ups.

You had arrived right on time, stretching before hand and making sure you looked good.

You strolled into your training room, already hearing some upbeat music and seeing Bakugou doing pull ups, grunting and muscles shaking from the slight strain.

You stand in the doorway, watching sweat trickle down his neck, into the wide neckline of his cami, which clung to his body, nipples peaking through the shirt.

His jaw was clenched, little huffs leaving him as he brought himself up again. The veins on his arms popped against his complexion, and you startled when you realized you were drooling.

You gave a soft cough, alerting him of your presence and watching as he hopped down, red eyes locking onto yours as his chest heaved, cheeks pink and eyes low. The headband holding his hair out of his eyes was slipping, so you went into action.

You dropped your bag on the ground, making your way towards him quickly. When you reached your hand out to touch him, he narrowed his eyes at you and stepped back, cheeks darkening further.

"Somethin' the matter, miss?"

You smile, body flushing at the way he draws out the formality.

"Oh, I just saw your headband was a little crooked. Wanted to fix it, was all."

He nods, giving you a once over before pushing it back up his forehead, turning to get a mat out.

"Oh I already did some workouts before I got here. Unless you wanna stretch me out some more. "

The wicked smile on your face doesn't go past Bakugou, his vermilion eyes widening as he steps back, grumbling under his breath as he turns back around, setting down two mats and sitting on one.

"We're doin' yoga. Noticed how yer' body was shakin' las' time so we're takin it easy t'day."

You give his strong back a dreamy smile.

Fuck, he's hot, healthy, and attentive? You could feels yourself start to swoon.

You make your way over to the other mat, sitting on your knees.

"M' gonna guide you through each pose, then we'll do em together, yeah?"

You let out a breathy "yeah" in response and watch as he rises to his feet, towering over you, before positioning himself behind you.

"Gonna touch you now."

Shit.

You feel a big, heavy hand gently land on the middle of your back, pushing you to rest on your elbows.

"Stand up, but keep yer' arms down f'me"

You raise your lower half into a standing position, arching your back forward. Bakugou goes to your front and squats, taking your hands and placing them in front of you so you're in downward dog position.

"Hold it there for 15 seconds."

You close your eyes and breath in, shuddering when you get a whiff of his musk, smoky and sweet.

"One"

"Two"

You peek open your eyes, looking up slightly to see him looking at his watch, counting the seconds down.

"Six"

"Seven"

You take the time to really admire him, his strong thighs, the way you can see freckles dotting the exposed skin, the way his shorts hug his waist, his top riding up on his abs and showing off a patch of hair trailing down..

"Thirteen"

"Fourteen"

You close your eyes at fifteen, pretending like you weren't just imagining ripping his shorts off with your teeth and running eager fingers through his blonde happy trail.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you almost miss the way he runs his hand back down your spine, easing you down and murmuring a raspy,

"Good girl."

Before straightening up and walking over to the speakers.

Dazed, you watch as he puts on more relaxing music, walking back over to you.

"M' gonna try somethin' a little more difficult, kay? Let me know if ya start to ache."

Oh, you're already aching.

Aching for that di-

"Okay, I'll let you know."

He grunts in approval, twirling his finger for you to stand up.

He comes to your side this time, placing his hand back in the middle of your spine and bending you backwards slowly, humming when you reach your hands to brace yourself.

"Doin' such a good job fer me, yeah? Think ya can be a good girl and hold it fer 30 seconds?"

You almost audibly whimper.

"Mhm, I'll be so good Bakugou."

He starts counting, a deepness to his voice that wasn't there before, and you can feel your thighs begin to shake.

Bakugou can't take his eyes off of you, the way you bend so easily, taking his every word so nicely, eyes hazy and dazed and so so pretty.

The way your thighs shake makes him want to drop to his knees and sink his teeth into them. He wants to mark you up, leave bruises on your pretty ass and then kiss them better, eat out your sweet cunt and stuff you with his fingers when you get too loud.

He was raised with manners, though, and before he does any of that has taking your fine ass on a date.

"Thirty."

You breath out a shaky sigh, letting his hand guide you back down to the floor.

You look at the time, almost jumping in excitement when you realize your session is almost over. You need to get home now. Your panties are aboslutely drenched and you don't know how long you can go without saying something too bold.

Bakugou notices your excitement, raising a brow as he situates himself on his mat.

"Got smwhere to be, Miss?"

You flush, images of you with your hands between your legs and a certain blonde on your mind flashing through your head.

"Nope. Just wanna shower and eat my loneliness away."

He chuckles at that, sitting in lotus position.

"You have any plans?"

He looks up at you, studying your face for a bit, lips turning up slightly when you squirm.

"Nah. I got nuthin'."

You gulp, copying his position and fiddling with your fingers

"Well, uh. Do you wanna maybe.."

"Spit it out, angel, times runnin' out."

You bite your lip, the way he rasped the pet name had your head spinning.

"We could maybe get something to eat,, together? I can cook for you,, Like a date."

You're met with silence, and you feel embarrassment wash over you for a split second before you see a rough, veiny hand on front of you, then feel a warm palm on your face.

You look up and meet red eyes in searing eye contact, his lips curled in a smirk and cheeks dusted pink.

"A date, hm? I'd fuckin' love to Darlin'."

You squeal internally, missing his warmth when he pulls away to count to 30 once again.

♡♡

After stuffing yourself and Bakugou with some curry chicken, you invited him onto the balcony, sitting next to him on the swing seat.

You couldn't take your eyes off him the entire night. He was wearing a simple shirt and joggers, but the top hugged him so well and his sweats were low, riding up everytime he lifted something from the top shelf for you.

There a was a thick tension in the air. You wanted so badly to lean over and grab his jaw, to kiss him and make him groan, make him breathless with pleasure-

"Hey, ya listenin'? I asked ya a question."

You stratle, realizing you were staring at his face for too long.

"Sorry. I just wanted to kiss you- I mean,, fuck-"

Yeah, you shouldn't have drinking so much wine.

Bakugou’s eyebrows raise almost comically, eyes wide and lips pulling back in a grin, his handsome face inching closer to you until you can almost taste him.

"Ya wanna kiss me? Go 'head, I ain't stoppin' ya."

You immediately crash your lips against him, wasting no time in bringing your hand up to cradle his jaw, moaning when his big hand curls around your throat.

He tilts your head back, licking into your mouth and grabbing a thigh with his free hand, dragging you onto his lap. You roll your hips slowly, relishing in the groan it pulls from him.

He pulls away momentarily to suck at your bottom lip, biting down on it before kissing the stinging flesh.

He fiddles with the hem of your sun dress, gaze burning into you.

"Can I take this off, Darlin'?"

You pant above him, shivering at how sexy he sounded.

Damn, consent was hot.

"I don't know, can you?"

Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he flicks at your nipple through the dress, nipping at your collarbone.

"May I take this off, Brat?"

You whimper and nod, earning you another searing kiss before he pulls your dress up, watching your tits bounce out, taking a nopple into his mouth as his hand slides down.

He squeezes your doughy thighs in his hands, fingers pinching and kneading until he reaches your cunt.

You pray that he doesn't tease, you've been worked up for so long, and thankfully, he doesn't, slipping a finger into you and rubbing gently at your clit, picking up pace gradually and adding a second finger as you arch your back.

You pant and lean forward, hands lacing into his hair and hips grinding down onto his fingers. He groans into your nipple, moaning "harder" against you.

You comply, and he shudders, hips canting up to meet the downward roll of yours.

You feel your high creeping up on you, but you wanna feel him so bad, so you sluggishly push him away, earning you a confused grunt.

"Wanna cum on your cock."

Bakugou growls at that, lifting you up with one hand on your hip while the other pushes his sweats and boxers down, his thick cock springing free. You gape down at it, fat and veiny, flushed and dripping with pre as it twitches under your gaze.

His balls are fat too, heavy and round amd you just wanna take one in your mouth and suck till he creams from how good it feels.

Bakugou interrupts your staring with tap to your hips, slowly easing his way into you.

His thick mushrooms head pops in, and it burns so good. You feel like he's in your throat by the time he's all the way in, veins pulsing and dragging along your gooey walls. He leans his head back agasint the swing, mouth opening to pant as he move, feet digging into the ground and hips thrusting harshly into you.

His face is a dusty pink, eyes going crossed and drool starting to slide out of his mouth as he moans, hips picking up speed and fingers rubbing into your clit so good you almost collapse.

"Hah, yer so good, Darlin', fuck squeezin' me so good, gnna make me bussst"

"S'so close-"

"Mmh fuck, me too Angel. You wanna cum on my cock, Darlin? Cream all over me, make a mess of my balls and this cute little swing fuck fuck fuck- gnna bust baby, fill you up so fckin good."

You give a silent scream, arching your back and cumming hard, Bakugou following as he shoots thick ropes of cum into you, sliding down his base and pooling at his fat ball, still twitching.

"This is gnna be a bitch to clean up ain't it?"

@miggiisdumb @lady-bakuhoe