#I know I made the scarf longer than it actually was

[lace4forest]

Picture Time!

We've been making our own version of each Link, and THIS ONE- LOOK AT HIM! Can you guess what was taken from what outfit? I count at least 8...

We did this on Stream! :D

His face!

[gatorbites-imagines]

I had this idea, because I was doing some crochet.

A reader who had made a lot of crochet stuff for all the X-MEN (most of it was requested from them to the reader) and Logan noticed everyone had something handmade except him. His bratty side kicks in and he wants something from the reader. (though the reader can make him a cardigan cause he is a grandpa or like a glove that has holes for his claws so he doesn't reap them apart) you can go feral with it 👀

Scott Summers, Kurt Wagner, Remy LeBeau, Robert “Bobby” Drake, Logan Howlett

Headcanons

Theres too many x-men, so I just,,,added my faves *blush blush* I also decided to write a little thing for everybody, like my CoD posts.

Crochet was your passion, something to do in your free time when mutant-kind wasn’t in danger. And with online shopping, it was so easy to get all the yarn and different hooks, patterns and recipes you might need.

So, of course you also feel the need to make stuff for all the people you care about. After filling your own room and wardrobe with all the stuff you could crochet, your yarn empire started to fill your friends closets and rooms too.

Scott Summers

For Scott you end up crocheting a couple of hats, and multiple pairs of gloves. Some you already had laying around, and just decided to throw into the pile.

What could you say? You were scared he was gonna freeze his ears when he went around in his visor. This meant you crocheted different hats depending on if he wore his visor or his shades, hats that wouldn’t get too in the way.

It was a little hard for Scott to be a leader in the colorful creations you made, but everyone knew it was just your way of showing you cared. So, it made sense for the leader of the team to get the first gifts.

After a while Scott will wear the things, you make even if it isn’t too cold outside, even working it into his everyday outfits if he needs a little bit of accessories. Sometimes a hat really helps with the look, you know?

Kurt Wagner

For Kurt you make a scarf. It was a crochet of the moment. You two were on a stakeout, which took way longer than planned, in a pretty cold place. So, you pulled out your crochet stuff and started going at it.

Before you knew it, there was a comfortable scarf in your hands. You had been smart enough to dress correctly for the mission, but Kurt hadn’t, so of course the scarf when around his neck. You may also have scolded him a bit for not dressing right for the mission.

Kurt absolutely loves the scarf, and will wear it whenever its even just a little chilly outside. It makes you want to make him even more, especially when he starts getting sad about the first one fraying apart.

In the end he has as many scarfs as Scott has hats. One for every weather, in different colors, so he can match them with whatever he’s wearing.

Remy LeBeau(and Anna Marie)

For Remy you end up making him a hoodie, in his usual colors. It had mainly been a spur of the moment creation on your end, since you just had a lot of yarn in that color laying around.

It hadn’t even really been made with Remy in mind, but our beloved Cajun was quick to swoop in and take it off your hands when you weren’t sure what to do with it. and you, just wanting to make stuff for others, are more than happy to let him.

He wouldn’t wear it every day, but you do see him snuggle up in the warm yarn hoodie whenever it starts to get chilly. Hes also more than happy to use it as an excuse to snuggle with Anna Marie, using it as some kind of silly flirt.

In the end you make Anna Marie a matching hoodie, making it a little too big for her, as well as making it the same colors as Remy, so they can switch hoodies whenever they want. Its kinda like getting to hug Remy, in a way, so Anna Marie enjoys it.

Robert “Bobby” Drake

You make Bobby a blanket, it’s as easy as that. You actually end up making him multiple blankets. You didn’t really have an understanding if his mutation made him even able to feel cold, or if it made him feel extra cold?

So, the first blanket was placed by the door to his room, since you didn’t wanna invade his privacy. Bobby may not feel cold, but he loves the blanket anyways, especially since you try your best to make it in his favorite colors, or featuring different stuff he likes.

Its actually Bobby that asks if you can make him a second blanket, since he needs to wash the first one and has gotten so used to having the heavy yarn blanket on top of his other blankets at night. And you, being the great person you are, immediately get to work.

He ends up with a bit of a collection of blankets over the years, though most of them stay in his closet since he can’t really use all of them at once. He does pull them out when the x-men are doing movie nights and stuff like that though.

Logan Howlett

It took a while for Logan to realize he was the only one who hadn’t been given anything you crocheted. And… He’s not mad obviously, why would he be, it’s just crochet. He’s maybe a little jealous though, somewhere under all that gruffness.

He wouldn’t say anything, Logans way too proud for that, but he does start hovering around a bit whenever you crochet, just to look… nothing else.

There are also of course some jokes from the others about how he hasn’t been given anything, so you must not like him, or it’s because he’s always coming and going as he pleases so he’s never there at the right time to swoop in for the kill (whatever you made).

Of course, he denies hating you, or wanting anything you make. But the jokes just reach you, and it horrifies you somewhat. What if Logan really thinks you hate him? That would be the worst, because of course you don’t. the only reason you hadn’t made anything for him was because he wasn’t in front of your face, and you were a little scatterbrained when you made stuff.

You didn’t want to be too obvious about your plans, so you try to subtly get his measurements, and just kinda go off of that. Luckily the x-men system has some stuff you can use noted down. In the end you make him a nice grey cardigan, with those big pockets on the sides. It does not go above your head that it’s the kinda stuff you’d see a grandpa wear. But you think he would like it anyway.

Logan finds the cardigan by his door, like you leave all your gifts. And no, he doesn’t jump up and down or cheer, but he does give a more positive sounding gruff noise than usual.

He may also have been preening just a little the next day when he wore it, just because it felt nice to be thought about, okay? Nothing else.

It also just makes you happy to see him enjoy it so much, so you end up making him some other stuff too. Who’d have thought he would love blankets and throwpillows so much. It ends up in his “not a nest” bed pile. He also enjoys the gloves with holes for his claws too, so they were worth all the hard work.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You somehow end up on a date with Remus and realize his true feelings towards you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst if you squint, Self-deprecating thoughts, comfort

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Remus Lupin x fem!reader

The chilly air of Hogsmeade was festive, alive with the sounds of holiday cheer. You wrapped your scarf tightly around your neck as you stepped into the Three Broomsticks, your heart thudding harder than it should. You had taken extra time getting ready today—perhaps more than was reasonable—choosing your outfit carefully, doing your hair just right. Not that anyone else would notice, but you hoped one particular person would.

Remus Lupin.

You couldn't deny it any longer—your feelings for Remus were no longer a simple crush. It had grown into something much bigger, something you couldn’t ignore.

You had harboured feelings for him for longer than you cared to admit. He was always kind, always steady, but recently, something had shifted between you. Maybe it was your feelings bubbling too close to the surface, or maybe it was the way he seemed to be avoiding you when you wanted to spend time alone with him. It gnawed at you, a constant anxiety that tonight might bring some clarity—though whether it would soothe or crush you, you weren’t sure.

As you approached the back of the pub, you saw him sitting alone at the table. Your heart leaped at the sight of him—his warm brown sweater bringing out the golden tones in his hair, his eyes focused on the table, fingers tracing invisible lines along the wood. He looked so good that it made your chest ache.

But before you could call out to him, you overheard a snippet of conversation, his voice low but unmistakable.

“…Padfoot, you know I can’t be alone with her. It’s too—”

You froze, a sharp pang of hurt slicing through you. Remus didn’t know you were there. His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, making your stomach twist. He didn’t want to be alone with you? Why? Was it because he knew? Did he figure out your feelings and… and couldn’t stand the thought of it?

But before the hurt could swallow you whole, you forced a smile onto your face. You weren’t going to let it ruin the evening. You weren’t.

Clearing your throat, you stepped forward, catching his attention. His head snapped up, his eyes widening in mild surprise as if he hadn’t expected you to show up just yet.

“Hey, Remus,” you greeted him, your voice light despite the tightness in your chest. You flashed him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You look great.”

And he did. He always did. The way the dim light flickered over his face made him look softer, almost ethereal. You waited, hoping for a compliment in return, your heart fluttering in anticipation.

You hoped that he’d notice the effort you’d made for him. But there was nothing. No smile, no remark about how you looked, not even a flicker of recognition for the time you had spent getting ready.

Remus didn’t say anything. His gaze flicked away from you, tension pulling his features taut, as if being in your presence made him uncomfortable. You shifted nervously, your smile faltering.

“So,” you said, desperate to fill the awkward silence, “where are the others?”

Remus’s jaw tightened, his voice coming out more annoyed than you expected. “Sirius bailed,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He had an argument with Regulus and needed some space. Peter’s with Mary, and James—” He let out a dry laugh. “—is actually being tutored by Lily.”

You blinked, processing the sudden emptiness of your group plans. “So… I guess it’s just us, then?”

He nodded, but you caught the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. It stung worse than it should have.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

You forced a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. “Well, it’s a good thing I like Butterbeer. I’ll just have to drink enough for everyone,” you joked, though your voice wavered slightly.

Remus glanced up at you, and for the first time that night, his gaze softened. He looked almost regretful, but he still didn’t say anything. The silence returned, and you bit your lip, wondering what to do next. Should you just leave? Was he waiting for you to go?

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick, like neither of you knew how to handle it. You tried to make conversation, but every attempt seemed to fizzle out the moment it left your lips. Remus barely responded, giving short, clipped answers as if he wanted to be anywhere but here, with you.

The knot in your chest tightened, your earlier excitement draining away with every passing second. The thought struck you suddenly, an unwelcome idea slithering its way into your mind—

Did he know? Had he figured out your feelings and was trying to avoid hurting you?

Or worse… was he disgusted by the idea of being with you?

That would explain the avoidance, the discomfort.

And if that was the case… you needed to say something.

You cleared your throat again, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. “Remus,” you began softly, “if you… if you know—about how I feel—then it’s okay. I-I can handle it if you don’t… feel the same way. I just… I thought…” Your voice cracked, your bravado crumbling under the weight of the fear gnawing at you. “I just thought maybe…”

You hoped, desperately, that he would stop you, that he’d say something to reassure you. But Remus’s expression didn’t change, the same distant, almost pained look clouding his eyes.

“It’s just…” He paused, running a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “It’s better if we stay friends.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t expected them, not really, and yet they were your worst fear realized. You felt your heart crack, the pieces splintering inside your chest, but you nodded anyway, forcing yourself to act like it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“Right,” you whispered, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. “I understand.”

Remus shifted in his seat, looking away from you. “It’s not that I don’t… care about you. I do. But… I’m not the kind of guy you need. I’m not… I’m not good for you.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion swirling with the pain that now sat heavily in your chest. “What are you talking about? Remus, you’re one of the best people I know.”

He shook his head, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as if he was holding on to some invisible anchor. “You deserve someone better, someone who doesn’t have… baggage. Someone who can give you everything you want, everything you need.”

The frustration bubbled up inside you, pushing past the sadness. “Who says you can’t give me that?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Who gets to decide what I need? Because last I checked, I get to decide that.”

Remus flinched slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m a mess,” he admitted quietly. “The full moons, the scars, the… the danger. I can’t put you through that.”

You blinked, the weight of his words settling in. He wasn’t rejecting you because he didn’t like you—he was rejecting you because he thought he wasn’t good enough.

“Remus,” you said, your voice trembling, “you don’t get to make that choice for me. I care about you. I—” You hesitated, your heart pounding in your ears. “I want you. All of you. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

His eyes widened, the flicker of hope you’d been waiting for finally breaking through. “You… you do?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you stepped closer, the warmth between you growing in the cold air. “I do.”

For a moment, Remus just stared at you, his expression unreadable. But then, finally, he smiled—a small, tentative smile, as if he wasn’t quite sure this was real. His hand reached for yours, his fingers brushing against yours lightly, testing the waters.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I was… scared. Scared of losing you.”

You smiled through the tears that threatened to spill over, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re not going to lose me, Remus.”

He pulled you closer, his other hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. His gaze held yours, his eyes filled with something you’d been longing to see for so long—affection, care… love.

And then, finally, he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative at first, but then it deepened, his hand tightening on yours as if he was afraid to let go. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, but you were smiling, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Remus murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “I should’ve told you that earlier.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Took you long enough.”

[a-little-lostmoon]

some LU headshots in my style for personal reference. subject to change bc drawing consistently is a bitch but overall i think i’m happy w them! (ignore the comic/writing idea in the upper right corner it may or may not be made into a full think idk yet—)

typed notes for each lu member + a little extra below cut

wild—

oval eyes

rounder oval ((ish)) face

amber earrings

healed scarring

androgynous

i tried to reference the boys’ canonical character models to individualize their features more. i love botw and totk sm but personally i’m not the hugest fan of the way the characters look for it? even so, i think the rounder sort of eye shape works really well for my wild

his colors specifically i drew to be a bit more sunset kissed/orangeish bc i was referencing a wild photo in which the time was sunset. thats abt it. but i think it’s really pretty on him so i’m probably just keeping that whenever i draw wild

warriors—

cheek bones/jawline

rounder ears

pointy eyes ((eyeliner that could stab a person))

cheek scar bc i felt like it

i stole away some of wars’ side fringes, forgive me i couldn’t decide whether i wanted them to cover up his jawline and chickened out. if anyone actually read the comic thing you’ll see smth abt the old man and wars talking abt how his hair parted to the other side of his face during the war. i made it to ‘vent my frustrations’ bc i drew his hair part referencing HW photos of link instead of LU wars and it’s now become my headcanon.

his hair color is vivid bc HW color pallet is pretty damn vivid and his eyes & earrings are a deeper blue to match his scarf. color coordination!

anw he’s a pretty boy so i made him pretty — that’s pretty much the rest i have to say abt that

time—

tired eyes

longest ears

(slight) rbf

both time & legend have half circle/oval eyes ((kind of. at least that’s what i tried to go for to give them a more worn/serious look))

i’m not the best with differentiating ages. i tried to make him look a bit more worn/oldest but i also wanted all of them to still carry some of that classic pretty boy link look. don’t have much else to say but he has the longest/angular ears bc fairy boy. let’s pretend four’s don’t look longer than his i drew him later and forgot

twilight—

<-takes more features from malon ((who i haven’t drawn yet so you don’t have any reference on that))

pretty boy face (wasn’t intentional but it is what it is)

twilight princess link is v pretty. twilights usually one of the more rugged (for lack of a better term) looking ones bc he’s among the taller ones/apart of the “adult” squad but i accidentally made him very pretty looking. oops. don’t know if that will remain consistent for him if i draw him more so we shall see

him and time share less features than i might’ve wanted? you can see a bit of time’s jaw in the way his face curves but overall they don’t share many features. again, he takes more after malon. but their hair textures are incredibly similar if that means anything

gave him jade studs bc they reminded him of midna and are practical enough that he can just keep them in the whole time (bc he will lose them or forget abt them if he takes them off)

sky—

rounder face

big eyes

lips

big ears

his hair color was a bitch to get right im not sorry i had to say it color is so hard to work with. in any case! skyward sword link has bigger looking eyes cus of the style and i just ran w that. his earrings are magenta to match sun’s dress but look red when the light catches them right (or wrong ig bc they look red in dim light too) just bc i realized his earrings were red to match his outfit/crimson.

sky and the next three (everyone sans wind) probly look the least off their character models

legend—

oval iris

full rbf

multiple piercings ((this is important for u to know))

longer narrow face & features

boy’s a strawberry blond bc i said so. and also legend purple eyes propaganda. i don’t know where exactly that originated but like i love it and im on board. he also has purple stud earrings he always keeps in — curious, isn’t it. he probably has more than i gave him but well, thats all i gave him. it gets the picture across. hc that legend realized he couldn’t get more fingers for his rings but he could get more piercings that could handle jewelry that did almost exactly the same thing. practicality!

also i couldn’t decide on legend’s hair length. its all hidden by that hat of his so i just… didn’t draw the back half portion of his hair. does that make my legend bald at the back of his head? you decide.

hyrule—

wide face narrow chin

freckles!!!

bigger earlobes

the earlobes is me projecting /hj but i tried to reference the og link’s face shape for him which idk if i like yet. he has freckles and more accent colors in his hair and eyes which is a subtle thing but a sorta maybe reference to his fairy magic. no piercings for him! i forgot them/didnt see them on og link and can’t really imagine when hyrule would ever get the time to pierce them so he and wind can do that together eventually to bond. legend will do it probly — he obviously has the experience and wild can’t be trusted (offered to pierce winds ears with a knife canonically)

wind—

big eyes

void eyes

big ears but rounder than skys

soft face

fluffy hair

wind’s 100 yard stare *does* things to the chain but none of them tell him that because he’d definitely use it to freak people out. i couldnt decide between going lighter sun bleached hair wind or bright blinding yellow toon link hair so i kind of meshed them together to create that. tried to make him the youngest looking

four—

symmetrical angles ((and then i drew a polygon quadrilateral bc thats the shape i used as a reference)) for cheeks and eyes

minish feather ((earring))

minish ears & nose

hime bangs

yk the picture of a minish that comes up when googled? thats what i used as a reference for his features. ears specifically, nose somewhat. four’s eyes are usually the greyish hazel color you get from mixing all of their colors together but i liked the split look for this piece more. his hair color is also wind’s but inverted so wind’s lights are four’s highlights and his darks make up the brunt of the base color as a slight reference to how it’s occasionally theorized/hc that wind is four’s descendant.

and the hime bangs were bc i wanted a little more “link side fringe” variation and i thought the sort of straight cut looked nice. hime bangs are not the right term tho bc he parts them to the side and doesn’t have that straight cut on his forehead but i’m too lazy to fight the correct term

— thank u for reading, go hydrate and eat if you have not <3

[frosted-hyacinth]

When you have a bad day

Feat. rin itoshi Tags. fluff cw. none, i think (if there are any, please let me know)

        "I'm home, Rin!" You yelled but to no response, you assumed he was asleep or something of the sort. You toke off your shoes, jacket and scarf as you entered your home, all you wanted to do was run to your room and fall asleep on your bed. After all that had happened today, first, on your way to work, your clothes getting absolutely soaked by a car that had accidentally ran through a puddle —a puddle large enough to be a full sized pool in your opinion. Once you'd finally arrived at work and turned on your laptop, it decided to shut down on you, getting rid of all the important information you had as drafts on that laptop which you would now have to redo. Now to top it all off, a bird pooped on your shoes while you were walking home. When you got out of bed, it was snowing, so you thought it'd be a good day but it turned out to be the opposite. You sighed at the memories of what had happened today.         "Negativity be gone! We're home now! Nothing worse can happen now!" You whispered then slapped yourself on the cheeks encouragingly, trying to rid yourself of all the thoughts that you had of your work day and trying to focus on cuddles with your lover. Something that would always make your day better. These thoughts weren't wanted by you or Rin, but you knew they would be engraved on your mind all week but it still probably would have made its way into your thoughts, haunting you for some time.                   As you wobbled into your bed room, you paused. A sleeping figure laid in your bed, the shock slowly reaching your head, finally processing that that was Rin. You didn't want to wake him up so silently changed clothes which had went perfectly well, no sounds at all, other than the light sounds of the fabric moving around. All that was left for you to do was get in bed it couldn't go that wrong, could it? You crept onto the mattress and sat on as softly as possible. It was at that moment that life once again decided to screw you over, making the bed creek just as loudly as it could making the boy roll over to face you, eyes now open.          "Welcome home." Rin said dully, before reaching for you, trying to pull you in with him in the bed, expecting cuddles after work. Internally crying at this cute gesture, slid in the blankets, engulfing him into a huge hug and resting your head on the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths and inhaling the scent of his cologne. Unknowingly, you had started to silently mutter your day to Rin's ears, his eyes widened a little bit at the absurdities of what had happened but it was nothing that you'd notice. His hand travelled to your back, patting it lightly in attempts of comforting you —the one who was on the verge of tears and was sniffing at the amount of bad luck you had today.          Oh god, Rin was panicking now, the water works were actually coming out now, the wetness of the tears staining his shirt, he could think of nothing to do, so he just sat there sitting quietly, his hand still repeatedly patting you back. He leaned his chin against your head, trying to lull you to sleep, away from all your bad thoughts until eventually, it worked. You had fallen asleep, curled up in his arms, no longer crying .          He looked at you, smiling and wiping he remaining tears from you cheeks. Keeping his arms around you, he put his head back on your chin and closed his eyes to fall asleep beside you, making sure that nothing could hurt you anymore.

this isn't the best and it isn't the longest. but. i love rin so i tried making a fic for him _(;з)∠)_

[shiggysimp69]

Public Restrooms

Warning: Implied non-con, Reader gets followed.

——————————————————————

You never liked public restrooms. They were filthy, claustrophobic, and always smelled like body odor. There was something inherently nerve wracking to be engaging in something so private next to complete strangers. You only hated one thing more than using public bathrooms, and that was using them at night.

Gnats fluttered around the bright street lights as you tightened your multicolored scarf around your neck.

“It's colder than it was yesterday…” You thought, blowing on your frostbitten hands. Work had ended an hour ago, however, you decided to stay longer for a little overtime. But now your bladder was practically bursting and you needed to make your way to the nearest restroom before things got ugly. You looked around, the shop was all closed up and your home was a whole bus ride away.

“Maybe there'll be one on the way?”

Snow crunched beneath your feet as you made your way to the bus stop. The air smelled of frost and gasoline. Winter came with a vengeance this year, covering almost everything with a fresh coat of glittery white snow. It would be nice to have a car at a time like this but with your rent already sky high, it would be virtually implausible. You approached the stop, blowing on your hands once more as you scanned the area. You couldn't see any stores still open at this hour. In a perfect world, someone would make an exception and let you in just to pee. But it was not a perfect world. You looked to your left and there was a bench with a roof to keep out the snow or rain; but there was also a person there, sitting. You didn't wanna bother the man, especially if he was homeless, however, it was becoming more and more difficult to hold yourself. You were tempted to just go in a bush at this point. Walking over to the man, you waved at him.

“Excuse me.”

He looked up at you, his messy hair falling over his face. You would be lying if you said he didn't give you a weird vibe. He sat hunched over, dressed in all black, with sharp red eyes. You almost peed right then and there.

“S-Sorry to bother you but do you know anywhere I can use the restroom?” You asked, swallowing your fear. He stared at you for a while, and you swear he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue swiped his bottom lip. That's when you realized just how dry and chapped they were. Actually, the man's whole face looked a little dehydrated…

“Down the street to the left.”

You blinked.

“There's a park and the bathrooms should still be open…” He spoke again.

“Oh, right! Thank you.”

You laughed a bit to clear the nervousness in your voice. He looked away and you took that as the end of your conversation, turning around and heading for the park. As you walked you felt his gaze on you once more. It made you shiver, his eyes colder than any winter. But you kept going, he was probably just some homeless guy that you'd never see again after tonight. Right… Just some bitter homeless person.

To your surprise, the man was right. You half figured you'd get led around in circles listening to someone who clearly wasn't mentally sound. But there it was. You hoped that you'd be able to go inside somewhere to pee. Like a restaurant or convenience store. It just felt safer that way, and it was more than likely cleaner than the restroom you just stepped into. It reeked of feces and hot piss, and questionable stains and toilet paper seemed to be everywhere. This was one of the many reasons why you absolutely hated public bathrooms. You could catch a disease sitting on some of these toilets. However, beggars can't be choosers and you were about to bust.

The creaking of the bathroom door caught your attention as you looked for a clean stall. Great. Now it was worse. Doing your private business next to a stranger was embarrassing and you avoided it at all costs. You sighed.

“It's whatever, just hurry up and pick a stall.” You thought, pushing open another door. Heavy footsteps approached you but you didn't turn to face them. It wasn't until they stopped that you looked over. Your eyes were met with deep crimson ones. It was him, the man from the bus stop. You took a cautionary step back.

“Y-You can't be in here.” You spoke, trying to convince yourself that he was just confused and didn't know that this was the women's restroom. He didn't respond, eyes still locked on yours. He sat with a hunch before but now he towered over you. At least a five inch difference between the two of you. For some reason he looked more cognitive than when you first saw him. Something about the look in his eyes told you that he definitely wasn't confused and that he knew exactly what he was doing. Suddenly, you felt warm in thirty degree weather. Fear heating you up and making you sweat bullets. Your heart sank as he took a step closer. You shook your head, a silent “no” escaping your lips.

“What's wrong…?”

Your eyes widened, shocked to hear his voice.

“A cute little thing like you stumbles across my path and you think I'm just supposed to let you go?”

His voice was smooth yet raspy, and it definitely wasn't something you'd ever forget. He stepped forward again and you backed up, straight into a wall. You looked behind you and in that moment he closed the gap between the two of you. He chuckled as he gazed upon your face. Horror. Absolute terror was written all over it. With tears filling your eyes and dampening your full lashes. You were beautiful.

“little one… You are nothing but a sheep waiting to be herded. Now you're gonna sit here like a good little lamb and let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours until we're both spent and my balls are completely dry.”

Without warning, hot liquid ran down your legs leaving a dark spot right at your crotch. He looked down at the area and smirked.

“How adorable. I guess you have no choice but to take them off now…”

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Writing requests are open!

[socheckitout-mikey]

do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!

ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae

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Title: The Shirt Thief

Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader

Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?

Word Count: 9,472

Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.

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  The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.

  In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.

  However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.

  Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.

  Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.

  Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.

  Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.

  'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.

  Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.

  From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.

  'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.

  Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.

  Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.

  Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.

  "You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.

  Damn you and your perceptiveness.

  Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!

  All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig. 

  Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

  Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.

  "Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.

  "You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.

  "Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.

  "Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.

  'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.

  Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.

  His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.

  'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.' 

  Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.

  "Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

  You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."

  Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"

  "Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"

  Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.

  "Why, cuz I'll float away?" 

  "Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."

  Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."

  Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-," 

  "Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”

  "Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.

  "And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.

  Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.

  "Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.

  All Johnny could do was laugh.

  The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.

  "Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."

  "You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."

  "I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.

  "Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.

  "And why not?" You demanded. 

  "Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.

  "Don't even think about saying that name!"

  Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his. 

  Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  "Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.

  Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."

  The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't. 

  You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.

  "Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.

  "D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."

  "Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  "You."

  Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.

  Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate. 

  One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.

  There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.

  "He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.

  Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"

  "I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.

  He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"

  "Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.

  Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."

  "My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.

  "You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"

  "I am not tellin’ porkies!"

  "Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.

  "Am not!"

  Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.

  "Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.

  You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.

  "Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.

  Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."

  "Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.

  He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

  "Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.

  "Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.

  "What why?" You demanded it up at him.

  “Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.

  Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.

  “The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”

  Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.

  “And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.

  Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”

  You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.

  In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.

  Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”

  “Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.

  You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.

  Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.

  “Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”

  Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.

  “What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.

  He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”

  “Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”

  “Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”

  Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.

  Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.

  “Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.

  “The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”

  That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.

  Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”

  “I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.

  All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.

  "Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.

  "Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.

  The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."

   I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.

  Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.

  With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?" 

  "Mmmmm maybe,"

  "yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.

  "But-," You tried objecting.

  "No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.

  "Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.

  "Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.

  "Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.

  "You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."

  "In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.

  "Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.

  "Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.

  "yn-," he shook his head.

  "Hey! I'm serious this time."

  "Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.

  Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.

  It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.

  A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.

  "Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".

  A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.

  The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.

  'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy. 

  "What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.

  "Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.

  Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.

  "Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.

  The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.

  In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.

  "White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.

  "If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.

  Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.

  "Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.

  The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.

  "Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.

  You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"

  "I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.

  Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.

  "Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."

  The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.

  Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.

  The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.

  "Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.

  "I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.

  "Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.

  The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.

  "Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.

  "Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.

  With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.

  "Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.

  "Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.

  "Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?" 

  The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.

  "Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders. 

  "Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.

  Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.

  "The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.

  "Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.

  Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.

  "Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.

  "Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.

  "That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.

  "Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.

  "Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.

  Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"

  Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.

  Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.

  If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.

  Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"

  "Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.

  “Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.

  Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.

  “What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.

  “Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.

  "That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.

  Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”

  Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”

  “With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.

  “Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.

  Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.

  That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.

  Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”

  “Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.

  “What are you man, four?”

  “Four?! I’ll show you four!”

  “Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”

  “You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.

  "Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.

  "Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.

  "Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."

  "In your dreams, two shits." You barked.

  "I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.

  Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.

  "Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.

  “Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.

   In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.

  Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?

  Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”

  A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.

  You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”

  "I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.

  With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.

  “Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”

  He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”

  “Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”

  Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.

  All you could do was gawk at him.

  “Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”

  “So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.

  Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.

  "I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.

  "Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.

  "So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.

  He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.

  It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"

  Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.

  You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[4ttack-ur-heart]

Not In This Life

Paring: Eren x gn! Reader

Warnings: manipulative eren, violence, spoilers for season 4.

Genre: angst

Summary: Eren confronts you, Armin, and Mikasa about how he actually feels. Is that all really true though? Maybe your confession will give you an answer.

THIS WAS A REQUEST!! I tried to save the ask as a draft and it disappeared 😭 sooo thank you anon for requesting and I’m sorry it’s not attached.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Not like this. The tension in the room was dangerously thick. Gabi sat at the table with Armin, Mikasa, and you.

Your hands were tightly clutching your thighs as Armin spoke to her. She killed Sasha. Your roommate. Your friend.

“We won’t kill you,” Armin said, his eyes downcast.

“Why not? I know you must want to.” Gabi’s eyes were filled with a dim glow.

“Why would I want that?” He sighed. “Always with the killing. It’s all you ever think about… just like someone else I know.”

The door opened suddenly, and footsteps entered the room. It was Eren.

"Oh, look. It's the brat that killed Sasha."

The three of you gasped upon seeing him. He looked so different and you could tell the light from his eyes was gone. Now just a dull glow. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of him.

“Eren..”

Eren’s hand raised to show a deep cut on his palm, blood trailing out. He sat down at the table across from everyone.

“I don’t want any trouble.” He said, his voice deep and sullen. “More conflict isn’t necessary to solve Eldia’s problems. Hange and the others are fine. We’re just relocating them.”

“Eren.” Armin started, surprising even himself almost. “We’ve all wanted to talk to you too.”

It almost seems too surreal. Your thoughts swirled through your head as you tried to listen to Armin’s words.

“…did they really convince you to join their side?”

Silence. Eren’s gaze was set on the white tablecloth. His blood oozed out of his wound and the crimson liquid stained the cloth.

“I am free, Armin.”

The words made you shudder. Mikasa and Armin both tensed next to you.

“My actions are governed by nothing but my own free will.” He continued.

“So you’re saying this was all on you?” Armin asked, his voice a bit shaky in disbelief.

“Yes-”

Mikasa shifted and cut in. “No. You’re being manipulated! The Eren we know would never involve civilians and children in war, even if they were enemies.”

“And you wouldn’t put us at risk either. You care about us more than anything.” You argued, making Eren’s gaze shift to you. His eyes were different, anything but loving. This was no longer the kid you fell in love with.

“Right?” Mikasa added, her tone becoming shakier and her eyes glossy. She stood up at the table. “You saved me from those kidnappers back at the cabin. You wrapped this scarf around me because you care!”

“I said keep your hands on the table, Mikasa.” Eren’s voice was sharp. She was startled by him and sat back down. You glanced towards Gabi next to you and her eyes were wide in dread, not looking at anything but the table.

Eren explained about his talk with Zeke and the Titans. “Armin.”

The blonde looked up at Eren.

“What made you start visiting Annie? Do you really believe it was your own free will?”

“W-what?” Armin’s eyes widened. “I don’t-”

“If memories play a major role in shaping us into who we are, then a part of you has become Bertholdt. Do you understand? An enemy within an enemy. He’s gotten in your head. You’re the one being manipulated by the enemy.”

“Hey! Why would you-?” Mikasa quickly cut in.

“You’re being controlled too.” Eren quipped. His eyes then met yours. “And so are you.”

He made your breathing quiver as you refused to believe him, you wanted to refuse. But the way his eyes held no sentiment or remorse for his words signified everything.

Eren looked back to Mikasa. “The Ackerman clan was designed perfectly to protect the King. Your instincts were dormant until I awakened it inside of you when I ordered you to fight. Your blood mistook me as the host you needed to protect.”

“No- that can’t be.” She whimpered and clenched the tablecloth in her hands.

“It can’t?” Eren’s tone had a bit of surprise in it. “Why not.”

“Because it wasn’t a mistake.” 

Eren stopped her and continued clarifying her Ackerman blood background.

“No, I-” She whispered.

“In other words: slaves. You're a slave, Mikasa.”

Armin stood up abruptly and slammed his hands on the table.

“Stop! Leave her alone!” He pleaded. You glanced at Mikasa and you could see her holding back her tears. Her head was down and you quickly placed your hand on hers in consolation, she grasped tightly onto yours.

You were only half paying attention to Eren’s speech. Now, your fixation was settling your friend. Your thumb swiped over her hand in small circles. Her soft cries escaped her lips.

It wasn’t until you heard Eren say those horrible words that you stopped.

“Ever since I was a kid, Mikasa. I've always hated you.”

“Eren, how could you say that to her?” Armin yelled and climbed over the table, desperate to grab at Eren.

Mikasa shoved you off of her and quickly stood up. Her hands seized Armin and pinned him down to the table, his arm bent dangerously behind his back.

“Mikasa, let go!” You shouted and gripped her elbow.

Armin looked at her in shock and she quickly let go of him. Mikasa backed away with tears streaming down her face and gasped at what she had done.

“No, I-I was just…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence before Eren cut her off.

“You see? That blood is all you are.” Eren said.

You held an arm up in front of Mikasa as Armin once again jumped onto the table and swung his fist at Eren.

Gabi stood up abruptly as the table flipped over and Eren fell back on the floor. Armin let out a yell and raised his fists again as Eren quickly stood up.

You both watched in horror as Eren punched Armin in the jaw, evading his other attempts to hit him. Eren grabbed the collar of Armin’s uniform and threw him into the wine cabinet, bottles and glasses toppling over and shattering on impact.

“Eren!” You yelled with tears in your eyes. You were about to take a step forward to break them up when Mikasa held you back.

Turning towards her with wide eyes, she shook her head, the tears still falling down her face. “No, he’ll hurt you too.”

“Jeager!” Three soldiers quickly came into the room upon hearing the commotion.

Eren stood back and watched Armin try to get back up. “I’m fine. I’ll handle this.”

“Just tell me where Zeke is.” He said.

Armin weakly raised his fists again and that’s when Eren beat him. Again and again.

“Eren, stop!” You yelled. Tears now rushed down your face as you watched Armin get beaten up mercilessly. The blonde dropped to the floor in a heap, blood trailing out of his mouth.

“Armin.” You pushed off Mikasa’s arm and quickly knelt beside Armin on the floor. Turning him over, you brushed the hair out of his eyes and used your sleeve to wipe the blood off.

Your hard stare met Eren’s eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you? How could you do this to them? After everything we’ve been through.”

“Funny… you used to follow every choice I made.” He said with the same dull voice, his eyes searching yours for the reaction he craved. “Unless those feelings of yours never went away.”

You paused, he knew?

“It was cute at first, I’ll admit, but like Mikasa, it seems like you were never your own person. Pathetic. Everything you did was to always appeal to me, wasn’t it?”

No (y/n), don’t let him manipulate you. This is what he wants.

“Every day you stood by me with hope that I would love you the way you loved me. Tell me, how does it feel knowing all that work you did was for nothing?”

You gritted your teeth as tears continued to fall.

“This isn’t about me, not about us! This is about you and we don’t want you to do something that you will regret.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slowly rose to your feet and glared at Eren. “Yes, you figured it out, Eren, and you’re a damn fool if you try to deny how you felt too!”

Eren’s breath hitched and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Remember all those times we snuck out after hours and talked about our future? It didn’t matter what crazy scenario we made up each time, we were always together in the end!” You yelled. “I don’t think a man who spent his youth 'hating' me would allow himself to become so vulnerable. You told me everything.”

Mikasa knelt by Armin and cradled him in her arms. You moved closer to Eren, the sudden sound of guns cocking made you tense up as the guards all trained their rifles on you. 

Eren quickly held up his hand at the guards. His eyes never left yours as they lowered their weapons. Honestly, his immediate defense surprised you.

“Is this what freedom is to you?” You continued, gesturing to your two friends still kneeling on the floor. “It looks like now you’re the one who's a slave, and your master is a worthless bastard.”

Eren gritted his teeth and scowled at you. “Let’s go.” He gripped your upper arm tightly, the other guards doing the same to Mikasa and Armin. “Take the brat that killed Sasha, too. We’re going back to the place where it all started... Shiganshina.”

Gabi stumbled against the soldier's grip while Armin and Mikasa went with no struggle. Eren still hadn't moved yet, keeping you in place. You clenched your teeth in pain as Eren tightened his grip every time you twisted your arm to break free.

“Sir?” One of the guards asked from the doorway.

Eren shifted his vision away from you. “Take them. We’ll be down shortly. I have some business to take care of first.”

The guards escorted your friends away from you. Now, you were all alone. With Eren.

Silence rang between you two as his other hand gripped your other shoulder. He turned you to face him, but you kept your gaze down.

“Hmph, you spent years standing by my side, and now you can’t even look me in the eye.” Eren tutted and gripped your chin with his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “There we go.”

You tried to break from his grip, but his hands only tightened more and you had to resist struggling when it began to hurt.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked suddenly. The question seemed innocent, but his eyes told a whole other story.

“Tell you-”

“Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). I’ll tell you right now it’s not the wisest decision.”

“Y-yeah. The day you left.” You muttered with tears in your eyes.

"I see.” His tone turned solemn.

“Eren, I love you.” You started, pausing briefly to take a shuddering breath and try to rid your tears. “W-was any of it… ever real?”

The memories, laughter, adventures... anything? 

He stared at you, taken aback by your words. “You said love not loved... you still love me?”

You sniffled as the tears slipped down your cheeks, trying to avoid his gaze. “Y-yeah, I still do.” You didn’t want to. With all the actions Eren has pulled recently, you didn’t want to. But yet, you still did.

“You shouldn’t.” He commented, thumb swiping over to brush one of your stray tears.

“I don’t want to.”

“But you do.”

Silence washed over you. His eyes were piercing under the grip he still had on your chin.

“Why?” You asked. “Why this way, there wasn’t any other option?”

This time his gaze evaded yours. “No.” He released a heavy sigh and something changed in his eyes. It’s like any small ounce of compassion he held just faded. “It’ll work out in the end. This isn’t over, (y/n). You always come running back to me and I always welcome you.”

Jerk.

A sob left your lips and you managed to rip your face out of his grip. “You know what, Eren?”

Eren’s gaze stiffened when he heard the tone in your voice. “What.”

“I don’t care what you do. Whatever the hell you do, just know I’ll never stop loving you.”

“Don’t you understand?!” His hands grabbed your wrists tightly. “You can’t love me.”

“Eren, ah- you’re hurting me.”

“Don’t you get it? Things aren’t going to end the way you hope.”

“I don’t care-”

“You should!”

Your wrists were still clutched tightly in his grip, but he loosened his hold enough to let you gently cup his face.

“If it’s not in this life, then another one perhaps. I love you, Eren.”

Eren’s face scrunched up in anger, a distraught look crossing his features. “N-no, (y/n). Please, you can’t. The worst has yet to come.”

“Tell me.” You pleaded, your thumb swiping over his cheekbone. “Tell me you don’t love me. I just want to hear you say it.”

Eren stayed silent and dropped his stare. Thoughts ran through his mind.

“Tell me.” You urged.

“I…”

He couldn’t.

“It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

“That didn’t answer my question, Eren.” You scoffed.

“Fine.” His voice was hard. “I love you.”

His hand moved from your wrist to grasp your palm. “But I can’t. You’re right, maybe in another life, we can make this work.” Eren’s eyes met yours. “Just not this one.”

“Wait-”

“Everything I’m doing is to protect you!” He yelled. You blinked at him.

Protecting you? It didn’t make sense. He’s only started a war Eldia wasn’t ready to fight.

He took your hand in his and placed a light kiss on your knuckles. Your eyes softened at the sudden gesture.

A soft metal clinking was heard and before you could even register what happen, your wrist was shackled. The other cuff latching to his own.

“Let’s go.”

“Eren-”

“I told you, (y/n).” Eren looked at you with tears in his eyes. “Not in this life.”

———————

Tag list: @cullenswife @sad-darksoul

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi I hope you are having a great day.

I was wondering if you could write more about Eddie Munson dating a Swiftie.

- Swiftie anon

um yes absolutely!

I saw a tiktok where a girl was showing her boyfriend All Too Well (10 Minute Version) which is what this was inspired by. If I can find it, I'll link it here!

"So this one is allegedly about Jake Gyllenhall," you tell him as you put on the next song, turning it up since it's the one you really to see his reaction to.

"How do you know this?"

"The internet, baby. That's why I say allegedly because there's no actual confirmation that it's about him, but I mean, it's pretty clear that it is."

"This is ten minutes?" He asks as he looks at the little screen in his car that shows what song is playing.

Sure, a lot of the songs he listens to are much longer than that, but that's expected with the genres he listens to. It's not very common for a pop song to exceed five minutes so he thinks there must be a lot that needs to be said.

"Yes," you nod. "But I promise it won't even feel like. Oh, and there's a short film as well that we can watch later."

"A short film?"

Eddie doesn't know why that surprises him. Considering everything he's heard about this woman from you, it seems like she's always doing something and even though he's never really been a huge fan of hers, he can still appreciate how much she loves her job and how much effort and love she puts into each project.

"Yes! It really shows what their relationship was like and puts the whole thing into perspective."

The lyrics start and you're singing along, even going as far as pulling out a red scarf from your purse and wrapping it around your neck. Eddie looks at you briefly before turning back to the road as he laughs how committed to the bit you are.

You're singing along to the lyrics as Eddie tries to focus on them, pausing the song after only a few lines.

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold But something 'bout it felt like home somehow And I left my scarf there at your sister's house And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

"Pause," he says, trying to wrap his head around what he's just heard.

"He kept her scarf?" The whole thing seems so weird to him. He understands to an extent, but not enough to defend who is being sung about.

"Yes!" You reply. "He was even seen wearing it while walking around town, Eddie! There are paparazzi pictures."

"So weird," he shakes his head then plays the song again.

And I know it's long gone and That magic's not here no more And I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all

"This is so heartbreaking," he comments, really hearing the pain in her voice.

"And it only gets worse from here," you sigh, obviously already knowing what's coming.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy" Keychain on the ground, we were always skipping town And I was thinking on the drive down, "Any time now, He's gonna say it's love", you never called it what it was Till we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back, swearing it's the same After three months in the grave And then, you wondered where it went to, as I reached for you But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

Eddie doesn't want to admit it, but that part's made him feel something. Maybe it's just how heartbroken she sounds or how she talks about how she really seemed to love him and was proud of their relationship while whoever she's singing about just wanted to hide what they had away because he seemed ashamed.

He thinks about how he would never want to do that to you, how he loves to flaunt your relationship, even going as far as kissing you in public, not giving a single damn who's watching. So he doesn't understand how people can feel so ashamed of their partner.

And you call me up again Just to break me, like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all Too well

"He made her feel like a piece of paper, Eddie."

"Brutal," he replies with a sigh.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell Every time you double-cross my mind You said, "If we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine" And that made me want to die

"What was the age difference?"

"She was nineteen or twenty and he was twenty-nine." That makes Eddie's stomach churn. He's the same age and can't even conceptualize wanting to pursue someone as young as nineteen or twenty. That's a whole nine and ten years difference and that would definitely make for a power imbalance.

"Gross. And he's just saying that to make himself feel better. Because the truth is, he was going to end it anyway because it's clear that he doesn't care about her as much and she cares about him. The whole thing seems manipulative."

"See! I knew you'd understand." You love how much he's actually thinking about the lyrics and what they mean just like you do.

The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened, you That's what happened, you You, who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

"Hold on," he pauses the music again. "He didn't show up to her birthday party?"

"No," you shake your head in disappointment. "He didn't. And there's a whole song about that which we can listen to later."

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes I'll get older, but your lover's stay my age

"Damn," is all Eddie can say in response to the line. "That was cutthroat."

The song comes to an end as the the car rolls up to your destination and Eddie just sits there, staring out through the windshield, clearly deep in thought. He then turns to you, still looking like he's pondering.

"Can we listen to it again?" He asks, which surprises you."

"Of course we can, baby," you reply and play the song again as you two sit in silence in the grocery store parking lot that Eddie had just pulled into. It seems like your groceries can wait. At least for the next ten minutes, they can.

[fandomwritingbit]

The scarf fic was amazing! Short but gold. I absolutly loved it and I think it has huge potential for a series or a longer fic. Pervy william is what I *need* rn, seriously requesting a continuation;-;

Thanks for this request, it was much too nice to revisit prevy Will. Here's a little continuation, I might get around to some corruption smut in the future ;)

Lost Property - pt. 1 here

William Afton x fem reader

“Bugger.” You say to yourself as you lift up the few garments on the coat hook in search of your scarf. How can you have lost it already? “Bleeding ridiculous…” You mutter: it’s not there. Some fucker has probably swiped it, though to be fair you should know better than to leave anything unattended here, people’s belongings have a nasty habit of just ‘going walkies’ when not under lock and key. 

You’re feeling pretty defeated until the thought strikes you that maybe somebody handed it in to the office. It’s at least worth a check. And so, not before putting your stuff in a locker, you take a breath and knock on your boss’s office door. 

There’s a pause before his gruff and impatient voice lets you know that someone is in. “Yeah. Come in.” And you do.

“Hey Mr Afton…” You smile at him as you usually would. Not the kind of faux-bright grin you give customers but a more special self-deprecating one, reserved purely for colleagues. He actually smiles back, though it’s slow to spread across his face.

You are just a pleasure to see, especially wearing the same skirt as last time, the one that’s a couple of inches too short and delightfully skin-tight. The skirt that he thought about when he made the rota, always putting you on the shifts that he was supervising just so he can see how good you look in it.   

“You alright, y/n?” He grins, eyes eventually finding their way to your face, the cool gaze making your face hot. 

“Uh not too bad- I just wanted to ask if any scarves have been handed in? I left one here the other day and it’s not on the hook.” 

…

Oh dear. He might have known this would happen. Your scarf certainly wasn’t handed in, in fact he knows precisely where it is and you definitely aren’t getting it back any time soon. Hell, no one’s having it, lest they pry it out of his cold, dead, horny, hands. 

He sniggers briefly and you feel left out of some joke. “No, there’s nothing in here.” He prides himself on how naturally that leaves his tongue, because it’s not technically a lie. Then the most devilish idea appears in his mind. “... But I’m not sure about lost property, you could look there.” 

And where is that, Mr Afton? 

“Right. I haven’t looked in there before, where is it?” 

The grin on your boss’s face becomes particularly wolfish and you swear his eyes sparkle. “Here, love. I’ll show you.”  

~

After a short walk, spent behind your boss trying not to be put off by the way he towers over you, he shows you into a small room, little more than a cupboard. There’s shelves up the wall with boxes and baskets and shit, and on the floor a large clear bin full of clothes. He holds the door for you and stands aside to let you in. You throw him a polite smile over your shoulder, expecting him to leave you to it. But when you turn your back and crouch down to open the bin, you don’t hear any footsteps behind you. And turning around only confirms his lean frame still in the doorway.

You brush it off as maybe he just wants to be out of the office for a bit, and start rifling through the fabrics, looking for the distinctive light blue silky texture of your scarf. But with the amount of stuff in here it’s going to take a while. 

William leans against the frame, taking in your perfect form, sitting there on your feet. That skirt stretched thin around all the best parts of you. This is the best idea he’s had in a while and he isn’t going to let it go to waste. So he pulls his phone out from the front pocket of his trousers, careful to keep flicking his gaze on you, and opens his camera to start taking a few photos of you down on your knees.  Knowing how grateful he’ll be to himself later, when he has the opportunity to act on the stiffening of his cock just from the sight of you. It’s hard for him not to touch himself right now, but he’s not that careless, a sweet thing like you would need breaking in.

“I don’t think it’s here… fuck’s sake.” You mutter the last part, though when you turn and see your boss with an amused expression, you apologise automatically. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He chuckles, watching you stand to your feet. He pauses as he considers whether to say the next part. “It’s a shame about your scarf though, it looked lovely on you.”

You smile, a little dazed by that comment. It was unexpected to say the least, especially from such a handsome and scary man as Mr Afton, and especially when he said it like that. You’re suddenly very aware of how you were just on your knees in front of him and it makes blood rush to your face. Then it occurs to you that you’ve been quiet for a fair while, so you rush a response, “Uh thanks- my friend is gonna kill me, she only gave me it two weeks ago.” Embarrassment doubles after you’ve finished babbling, god you need to get out of this small room. 

He just laughs, finally moving out the way enough to let you out, revelling in how such a little complement made you so flustered. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, but if it’s been nicked there’s not a lot we can do.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine honestly. I just wanted to have a look.” Right now you just feel silly, like you’ve wasted his time. You just want to get out on the floor and start your shift away from the eyes of this attractive man. And mercifully he lets you go, not without walking you back down the corridors with a large and intimidating hand on your lower back, the gesture now making your hands sweaty.    

It’s only when you’re gone and he’s back in his office that he adjusts himself in his trousers, not a stitch of guilt at the fact that just having you alone made him hard. And the knowledge of those photos made him throb. 

You poor, cute little thing, he’s going to ruin you. 

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Weiss - Atlas Design Critique.

Wow, I’m back to do two things useful with my RWBY Archives, talk about Weiss’ canon look in Atlas, and redesign her. I’m gonna talk about her actual look first, as the character notes on her dedicated page made me… hate the look much more. It was already in my top ten least favorite designs in RWBY but NOW it’s in the top five. RWBY Archives

I’ve been wanting to know why they thought it was a great idea for Weiss to wear a restricting-looking dress in the North Pole. Why does she choose to look like a wealthy princess when she is no longer tied to money or her family? The book gave me an answer I was not expecting… they just wanted to make her look like a wizard. I HATE IT. It’s bad enough that Weiss just summons, but this has to be some animation trick. They didn’t want to animate Weiss fighting like a ballerina anymore, so it was best she stuck to just summoning and only uses Myrenaster as a glorified wand. You might as well dress Weiss in whatever way you want cause all she does is stand and point… and whenever she does try to fight it looks janky as hell.

No way did they think Weiss could fight in a dress, Maria and Cinder could, but no way can I see Weiss fight like THIS anymore. 

Hair

Now I don’t wanna disrespect the modeler cause I’ve seen their Artstation account. They modeled the Gods’ dragon forms, Winter, and Jaune! Models that look good! But the hair… they struggled and the backlash was hard cause they tweaked her hair again for Volume 8. I’m surprised they chose to change it when the people in charge should’ve changed it before Volume 7 even aired. It just tells me their standards are low and don’t give a crap about the product unless they need the fans to say something. The huge mass on top of her hair was so jarring I was convinced Weiss just took Blake’s chopped hair, dyed it, and applied it to hers. 

Primary Color - White?

Blake is wearing more white than her, The Ace Ops are wearing more white than her, and Jacques is wearing more white than her- Weiss’ colors are perfect if she was representing the color blue and her name was something like Azure. The tiny reds don’t make an impact, wouldn’t surprise me if people didn’t know there was red inside of the dress. The super blue for her puffy jacket can’t be found anywhere else to balance that color, and her whites are then covered by grays. It’s like too many colors, what else can I say other than SHOWING what they could’ve done in the choice of color placements.

Positives?

This is gonna sound like an odd positive but I think she looks downright gorgeous in Ever After. The whacky princess look standing next to the Red Prince was amazing. It made me wish Weiss was the ‘Red Queen’ for The Ever After, similar to how Neo was ‘The Mad Hatter’ and Jaune being ‘The White Rabbit.’ It really could’ve tied in well. 

Redesign

I miss redesigning a character; I kept in mind that White is primary, the tiara is no longer a staple to her design since she is no longer tied to wealth or even the heiress, and that her Volume 6 leggings and scarf stay intact. Why make accessories to protect her from the cold, but when she gets to a colder place she ditches them for a boob-window and bare legs that can make anyone freeze to death up in the north??? Side note; It’s not perfect, I’m not saying mine is better than the originals or anyone else’s this is just how I would’ve designed her or at least kept in mind to make a priority for the design. I also wanna say, yes, this outfit does look similar to another redesign of Weiss that someone else has made. I drew the design first before I went to Google to check if the look did look similar to someone else’s and I was like “Oops.” It wasn’t the intention, just coincidence. I didn’t steal.

Conclusion

It looks like the Atlas designs had a very huge backlash by just how BAD they were, as it now affects the girl's presumed Volume 10 looks in Vacuo, they have Weiss in white, ditched the chunky braid, and kept her in a presumed combat skirt than a restricting dress.  Either A.) The original character designer for team RWBY finally took constructive criticism to get the girls back to themselves B.) They no longer design the girls and Viz Media put in a new artist for the team or C.) Vacuo designs were much easier to make than Atlas.

These options can be wrong too these are just my little theories, end of the day we got a design for Weiss that just shouldn’t have made it into the show. A design that didn’t represent white, displays wealth when trying to distance herself from her family/company, a huge animation restriction, and overall one of the worst outfits I’ve seen put on Weiss Schnee.

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3 : Phantasm Recovery

[𝙵𝚊𝚛 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗, 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚎 / I𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚜]

Dash Baxter and Tucker Foley was Heading to the Far Frozen with Fright Knight as their Supervision, His Mare riding through the Ghost Zone, Soon They landed in the Far Frozen, It made Dash shiver because of the cold chill that sets as soon as they landed on the surface, it was snowing heavily, almost like a Blizzard but it's softer winds. "Brr— Gosh— i forgot how cold it is here." Tucker shivered, no wonder Fright Knight made them wear layers of Thick Clothes, dash sighs as his breathe turns into an icy fog mixing their surroundings.

They trekked through the snow still on top of the Mare as Fright Knight Led the Horse Through the Thick Snow, soon they saw sight of the Yeti's Homes and Presumably where Danny is, Tucker looked Relieved and Dash's eyes sparkled in Satisfaction that Danny was Alright, Tucker glared at him and Dash Notices his Glaring. "W-What's up Foley Nerd?" Dash asked Nervously as Tucker's glare felt as though it's digging at his skin, "Since when were you this concerned for Danny..." Tucker asks with a deep voice of threatening intent.

"Uhm— I have no idea— he just looks majestic nowada— oh have mercy—" Dash barely dodges Tucker's Phantom CreepStick™ "I have my eyes on You Dash Baxter.." he glared and Warned, "If you bully Danny again I'll actually give you a concussion and a broke nose. Capiche?" Tucker hisses his eyes felt like a wolf ready to hunt it's prey and the prey was Dash.

"Jeez, Look it's been like... 3 days, since... That happened. I'm gonna keep changing to be a better version of myself... We all saw too many people die.. my parents are dead so I don't have to hide my homosexuality anymore—" Dash was Interrupted with a "HUH??" By Tucker, Dash tilts his head in confusion and Tucker stared at him in shock. "you're a huh.— a homo-Huh. I never noticed. Oh my god. And I thought Sam was lying when she said you totally were into Boy's Love—" Tucker said which made Dash Choke on his own saliva.

The two looked at each other in shock, both trying to comprehend the information they gave each other, "wait Wait, so . You didn't know I was Gay, but Sam Manson, the Goth one, guessed and THINKED that I was gay the Whole Time? And she knows... I have... BL..?" Dash tries to confirm, "SAM ALSO Said that she has seen you... Buy.... BL related.. books..." Tucker says slowly which made Dash just stunned. "NUH-UH!" Dash denies. "Yeah like that's gonna prove your case—" Tucker laughed at him as he buried his face in his Scarf.

"This is so humiliating.." Dash says as Tucker Foley continued laughing at Him loudly making the whole ride to the far Frozen homes much longer than it felt for Dash Baxter. Deep inside Dash knows they don't like him very much but he'll prove to them that he's changed.. especially in these rough times where they're all basically Orphans and Alone. They were each others last strand of sanity. Dash pulled Tucker closer as the blizzard leading to the Far Frozen homes got too cold for them. "Hold On Foley." Dash says trying to see ahead through the Thick Blizzard, Tucker Tightens his grip on Dash's Coat and both of them trying to Tighten each other's grip to not let each other go, a few minutes of the coldness passed and soon they passed through the blizzard like barrier and reached the far Frozen homes.

KnightMare was Shaking off the Snow from her pelt and she didn't look very pleased to be covered in frost by her hooves kicking and stomping, Fright Knight wiped the snow off of the crevices from his armor and also shook the excess off after helping the two kids off the Horse. Tucker shivered and dash shook off the excess Snow on his Coat, "Grah, that's so heav—" he was cut off with a snowball to his face. "Oh come on Foley. That's so unfair." Dash complains but gets another Snowball to his face, "Foley!" Dash yells as he wipes the snowball on his face, but was stunned when he saw it wasn't Tucker who threw the second Ball. Danny was on a wheelchair and giggling, "DANNY!!" Tucker yelled and cried as he ran to Danny, Dante was pushing Danny's Chair and Val looked horrified and stunned and totally lost in her own world of thoughts.

"Oh wow, Dash you're face is really red! You must be very cold—" Danny says but Dante interrupts him. "He's not that cold Danny, that's just how normal humans look in the cold such as Far Frozen." Dan states whilst glaring at Dash, "yep!" Tucker agrees teasingly and hugging Danny gently.

(Dante would rather Call Vlad "Papa" first before he admits that he's Protective of Danny)

Dash just nods, "My Liege are we heading back to the Castle?" Fright Knight asks as he is kneeling in front of Danny and Dante. "Not yet. We'll stay here for the meantime as Danny is still recovering most of his Powers and Energy, as well as his ability to walk." Dante states and Fright Knight nods. "Why does Val look like that?" Dash finally asks very confusingly. "We found out me and Dante are just Adopted! And not Maddie and Jack's Real Children!" Danny casually states as he pats Cujo's head who was in his lap.

"WHAT—" dash yells unexpectedly, "SEE!! EXACTLY MY REACTION DANIEL!!" Valerie Finally speaks up still very confused and out of her logical voice of reason mode. "Yes Baxter and Foley, Our Father is a millionaire and our mother is Aunt Alicia's Best Friend who's long dead and Gone but it was said that the girl came from a very wealthy family who got accidentally pregnant and hid it from our biological Father and Her Family making her essentially run away, Aunt Alicia said that during her best friend's pregnancy she was the one to help her through everything including the birth which to this day still shocks me." Dante rolls his eyes and scoffed. "Our mother's name was Daniela! Which is probably why my name is Daniel!" Danny chuckled now loving his original name more than before.

"Aunt Alicia also stated that she loved us dearly even when we were still in the womb..." Dante says with a pained Expression and Danny holds his hand, Dante just sighs and nods. "GODDAMN. Damn... Wow. That's a lot to take i— Foley are you okay?" Dash asks and seeing tucker just fixing his glasses. "I SUSPECT YOUR FATHER IS BRUCE WAYNE—" Tucker yells out suddenly making the other 4 jump in surprise. "Impossible." Danny bluntly states not believing him at all. "Actually Daniel, according your aunt Alicia. He is your father." Vlad appeared out of nowhere fixing his tie with liptint still smudged on his cheek.

The 4 looks at him before tucker yells out, "I WAS RIIIIGHT!!"

"Ancients have mercy on me." Danny says and suffering.

"I'm gonna bury my head on the snow now" Valerie says pinching the bridge of her Nose.

Dash and Dante just stunned on the spot.

Dante looked as if he was gonna kill somebody and Dash looked like a Big Hunk of Confusion of someone about to lose consciousness.

"Who in the fuck did you make out with Vl—"

"Clockwork Dante. I made out With your Master. Why do you ask?" Vlad smirks amusingly and teasingly.

Dante scowled very upset.

"Fuck this whole thing."

Cujo barks in agreement.

[cryptid-paint]

Sabertooth character hcs? 👀

ALRIGHT! IT'S SABERTOOTH HEADCANON TIME!

-Victor LOVES making biscuits/kneading, he oftenly collects tons of thick blankets because of this and gets genuinely sad/upset when he has to throw a blanket away because he knead it to shreads and it's no longer recognizable as a blanket anymore

-He enjoys swimming and water in general, I headcanon that his mutant gene is made up by different cat and big cats genetic codes combined into one mutant gene, the most prevalent being tiger, lynx and lion.

-he does that cat chirp/chattering sound when he's relaxing and sees a bird, it also happens if he's watching tv and there's a bird on screen, he can't control it, it just happens, and he's deeply annoyed by this

-he deffinitely purrs and hisses and roars and makes all sort of feline like noises. When it comes to purring, he'll definitely do it if you scratch under his chin, that's his purr activator lmao

-he sheds fur...LIKE A LOT....you could collect it all, turn it into yarn and knit a Victor scarf if you wanted to, type of shedding....everywhere he goes BOOM! a tufft of fur gets left behind...

-he loves to do A BIG STRETCH! in the morning or whenever he wakes up from a nap, ya know, like a cat!

-scratching posts are not enough or resistant enough to keep his claws sharp, neither are nail files, so he just scratches at trees to file them up

-you can tell when he's EXTREMELY angry because his tail will swat and move from side to side, if you see this, run! kitty cat man is angry!

-he loves summer, it's his favorite season because he loves sleeping under the sun and lying on the grass/sunbathing

-he's a MASSIVE CUDDLER, he loves warmth, he'll actively seek anything that provides him with warmth, be it a fire being lit, tons of blankets, a comfy sweater, or a person he trusts sitting next to him, so if someone he trusts is beside him, he'll inmediately turn and just melt into a cuddle pile on top of them, think big warm lazy cat energy.

-his tongue is rough like regular cats, it feels like wet sandpaper lol. Sometimes, he falls asleep with the tip of his tongue poking out like the tiniest little blep.

-cannot resist getting inside boxes, again, it's one of those cat things he can't control and it annoys him.

-he has paws under/inside his boots, same as wolverine, and I think they would probably look like a lynx paw?? just...big pawbs for a big cat man.

-also same as wolverine he has a tapetum lucidum so his eyes definitely glow in the dark

-has a high prey drive, sees as a squirrel? will chase after it. sees a frog? will jump into a pond to try and catch it. butterfly? will swat around his hands attempting to get it, meaning he'll oftenly get side tracked or is easily distracted (he always fails to catch his prey tho, because he's too big and he's more strong than he's agile thus making him slightly clumsy)

-he may be angry and violent and mean, specially to wolverine and the xmen, but if you're on his good graces and he considers you a close friend, he's actually a softy, meaning he'll playfullly nip at your ears or fingers, purr a lot, cuddle for warm....maybe he'll leave a rodent at your doorstep as a gift... and what not!, he's very selective, with who he lets into his life and who gets to see this more domestic side of his.

-although Victor can eat raw meats, he actually enjoys cooking and is skilled at it, so he enjoy making meat based dishes like stew! which he also enjoys sharing with those close to him. He's the total opposite to Wolverine in this, since Logan prefers his meat raw and is quite food agressive/territorial, oftenly going outside the mansion to hunt or scavange his meals and eat them there, since he's quite the messy eater (and he doesn't want to traumatize the kids by dragging in a deer carcass he found rotting but still eatable enough for a wolverine's digestive system...bones and all)

-oddly enough he's extremely good at math...he's a smart kitty cat!

also forgive me if there's any typos, english isn't my first language!

[r0ttenhearts]

crystal ball

crystal ball- grimes songfic

scaramouche x situationship! reader

warnings: angst, no comfort, scaramouche being a dick

holding on, and i can’t decide

your agreed hangout with scaramouche left a bitter taste in your mouth as you checked your phone once again. it was an hour past the agreed time and you had not received a single message from him.

and i can’t decide on him

it didn’t help that your shared secret of a relationship was now beginning to crumble. you’d never admit it to him, but you’d fallen for him. every time he’d find himself in your room at night you’d silently pray not to voice how you truly felt about him while he was pleasing you.

holding on and i can’t seem to

perhaps he’d noticed the way your eyes would linger on his longer than necessary. or your fleeting little touches when you’d talk to him. perhaps that was the reason for his distance, his silence.

can’t seem to, oh, begin

with a sigh, you left the bench you were sitting on. the daylight was escaping you and you couldn’t bear to sit alone in the dark, waiting for him.

holding on, (i won’t)

the walk back to your apartment felt shameful, embarrassing, even. with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck you rubbed your hands together, the chilly autumn air beginning to bite at you. though scara had stood you up for the umpteenth time it didn’t mean you had to waste this outing.

and i can’t decide (i can’t)

making your way to your regular coffee shop where the baristas knew your name and order should have given you a good feeling. that familiarity that you were so comfortable with. but what you saw made you stop in your tracks as soon as you stepped foot inside.

i can’t decide on him (i know, i let you go!)

scaramouche sat in the usual table he would take with you whenever you both were in need of some caffeine. but he wasn’t alone. a girl with striking green hair sat in front of him, pushing her glasses up her nose as scaramouche tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. the world felt like it stopped in that very moment, all you could see was scara. scara with this girl you didn’t know.

holding on (i won’t)

the scent of ground coffee made your stomach churn as you slowly walked to the table where he was seated. lightly tapping on the table in front of you, he turned to look at you with a smirk on his face.

“what’re you doing here (y/n)? did it get chilly out there?” he knew what he was doing. he was taunting you, poking fun at your efforts to be with him. to be around him. the tilting tone in his voice only furthered your brewing anger, but you kept a blank face.

“yeah, scara. it’s cold out today, isn’t it? seems you brought a friend to enjoy the coffee.”

and i can’t (i can’t)

the green haired girl let out a nervous laugh as scaramouche sucked in his teeth, “actually, she’s my girlfriend.”

seem to, can’t seem to, oh, begin

your heart sank at his words. he brought the cup of coffee to his lips as he eyed you from the side. you couldn’t help but grit your teeth at the way he didn’t seem to care.

(i know, i let you go!)

“that’s great, congratulations. i didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” you replied flatly, already feeling an itch in your skin to leave and never return.

can’t seem to begin

before scaramouche could reply you had already taken your phone out of your pocket. the cool feeling of your phone on your hands felt calming as you could feel your heart start to race. it was all crashing down, everything you had ever known. everything you had with him.

can’t seem to begin

with a dry smile, you finished blocking his profiles before looking back up at him from your phone. his eyes were narrowed, lips drawn back in a thin line. just what had you done?

“well, it was nice seeing you scara.” you paused, glancing at his lover, “i hope it was the last.” you muttered before briskly turning, leaving the coffee shop with a light ding from the door.

(i let you go!)

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @lelemnh @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up

[eveningrainstorm]

my take on teenage raz and lili!

some design notes under the cut:

They're intended to be about 16 here! I didn't go for anything too drastic in terms of changes -- these are largely just what I'd consider natural evolutions of their canon designs

For Raz, my main focus besides just making him look older was to add a bit more resemblance to the other Aquatos in his design, since his relationship with them wouldn't be strained like it is during canon

Raz is shown with very straight hair in canon, but since most of his family's hair is more wavy or curly I tend to imagine he styles it that way on purpose as part of his Sasha Nein cosplay or whatever. He wouldn't still feel the need to do that at this point, though, so for this design I wanted to make it more curly, similar to Augustus or Frazie, while still similar to his canon style. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and I'm still not entirely happy with where I landed, but it's good enough

I didn't think he would still wear the helmet but I didn't want to discard it entirely, so the goggles were a compromise. I meant to give them some visible scratches and wear and tear since they're presumably the same goggles he's been wearing since he was 10, but I forgot. rip

Obviously the most notable change to Raz's outfit is the scarf -- I wanted something that would tie him visually to the other Aquatos while still fitting with his general look. I imagine they gave it to him as a gift, sort of an acknowledgement that even if he doesn't perform with them as an acrobat, doing his Psychonaut work is his own way of being an Aquato

Raz's outfit here is honestly very similar to his PN2 outfit. This is because in my eyes "long coat and turtleneck" is Peak Character Design and cannot be improved on. (Hence why I may not be the best person to redesign Raz.) He has an actual coat rather than just an oversized blazer this time though, so that's an improvement. With the turtleneck I was was vaguely intending for it to be color-wise something of a middle ground between the Sasha-style green striped turtleneck and the Aquato blue/green and white stripes, but it ended up basically just being the PN1 stripes with the PN2 color. which, you know, that works

I went back and forth on what their heights should be -- I thought it would be kind of funny if Raz ended up short and Lili ended up taller than him, but then I decided to just make them more in line with their families, with Raz being tall and lanky and Lili being average verging on short. Except then I accidentally made Lili tall anyway because I was only vaguely considering her height relative to Raz. I guess Lili's probably taller than her dad now? good for her ig

Most of their facial features are just slight variations of how they look in canon -- slightly smaller eyes and so on. the only real specific change is that Lili has a more defined nose now, similar in shape to her father's

Lili's outfit here is more different from either of her canon outfits than Raz's is, but there's still not much that really requires a ton of explanation. The goal was to make her look vaguely cool and fashionable, although as I am neither of those things I cannot guarantee I was successful

I tried a couple different hairstyles for Lili, and I'm still not entirely set on this one -- Originally what I settled on was to give her two braids, which I did like, but I kept doing sketches of her where I just drew the top part of the hair and was like "ngl this kind of works on its own" and so I ended up going with the short hair. I also briefly tried an asymmetrical haircut but I couldn't get it to look right. I think this one suits her though

Lili's tattoo (on her left wrist) was a later addition to the design, and even in the later stages of drawing this I wasn't sure whether to keep it. I like it conceptually I just haven't figured out a consistent design for it yet, only that it has to be of plants

god these notes got way longer than I meant them to be I am so sorry. Uh basically I'm still figuring out the details of these designs but for now here's Raz and Lili, they're teenagers now, thanks for reading

[theslowestpoke]

Headcanon that Isaac has chronic pain from his fucked up childhood, but doesn't know it because he was usually injured enough to chalk the constant ache in his joints up to being crammed in a freezer long after puberty made him too tall to fit (which is partially true).

The bite isn't actually a cure, it just boosts the healing factor of bitten wolves so high that they appear cured, which is why Erica has a seizure when the kanima scratches her in the library; she still has epilepsy. Derek isn't lying when he tells them it will fix them, he just doesn't know he's wrong. It's not supposed to cure Isaac's claustrophobia or PTSD, but something like fibromyalgia is a neurological disorder, which is what epilepsy is.

Think about the ice bath scenes. When Isaac gets in the ice bath to remember when Erica and Boyd are, it isn't even supposed to be a method that can kill him, but it still makes him out of commission when Scott and Derek break into the bank. Later, when Scott, Stiles, and Allison sacrifice themselves to find their parents, the ice bath solution is not only more dangerous, but they stay in the water for 16 hours, far longer than Isaac did, and they still have the ability to jump straight into action finding the Nemeton. Sure, Scott is essentially already a True Alpha, but Stiles and Allison? Just humans. So why was it so hard for Isaac to recover?

I think it's because the ice bath put Isaac so close to the edge that his healing factor slowed (the claustrophobia of being underwater coupled with taking a kid who used to get locked in a freezer and asking him to voluntarily get into a freezing cold metal tub to access painful memories, all of which is before the actual risk of the ritual that Deaton doesn't even want to describe to him) and it brought all that latent chronic pain to the surface. If you have chronic pain, you know how much more it hurts when you're freezing cold. Even when he meets them to look for Boyd and Cora, he shows up wearing the scarf and a coat because he's still not 100%.

When Isaac gets electrocuted and takes ages to heal from the burns in the hospital in 3B, Scott tries to take his pain and is startled by how much pain Isaac is in. In that scene, Isaac's wolf healing is basically working overtime just to keep him alive, so the pain from the burns (internal and external) isn't the only thing Scott finds.