#I mean he IS creepy and do creep us sometimes ..

[haru-chi]

I'm sorry, I really am sorry to him but ...

I thought this was Seiji trying to creep them out 😭

[doeeyedmeanie]

a hero always watches ….? J•T x fem!reader..

A not so pretty part two… usual creep Jason so be warned ..!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

There you stood , tightest skirt imaginable and just a bra on as you slinked around your room searching for your shirt..the see through shirt that always left Jason hungry . Jason was watching like usual, one hand palming himself while another hand shakily held onto his phone to watch the little scene of you and your usual routine . The sun hitting your skin just perfectly, hair damp from the shower , bra clasped a little too tight and pushing everything up, skirt shaped so nicely around your figure that your thong underneath could be made out from the fabric print , thigh high white socks making your skin look even more off limits and black kitten heels making you appear almost statue like . You searched for half an hour for your shirt, looking around and bending at almost everything ; causing Jason’s hips to jolt foward occasionally from the view . If only you knew what you were doing to him.

You practically dashed out the house once you had your shirt on , hand clasping your keys and bag as you locked the door shut behind you . Jason paused briefly , remembering he had a key for your apartment…would it be so bad if he just snooped..? Checked your apartment for criminals..? No no that’s a good thing , he’s a hero..that’s his job..right ?

Well Jason didn’t care if it was right or even wrong , he was on his way to your apartment in seconds..only this time he was without a mask or a suit…he just looked like an average guy…well not that average looking of a guy due to the various scars , the height of him and oh yeah…the giant muscles he had . He made swift work of breaking into your apartment, opening your door and checking his phone to see if your commute to work was going well. He shut the door behind himself , making his way to your room . Inhaling the smell of your usual perfume and the scent of you..hm he loved it .

He sighed , audibly before stretching and laying on your bed , “hmph..” he yawned , eyes on his phone and he rolled around and absorbed your scent like some kind of cat. One of his hands moving to open a side drawer , only finding a pack of condoms and various crystals. He shrugged , shutting that drawer before moving to your dressing table ; making work of opening it…the adrenaline rush causing his usual well put together mind to run and search for something..anything he could get his hands on.. he paused briefly once his eyes landed on a cute little pair of red panties . His tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, fingers tracing the fabric as he quickly pocketed the fabric - he’d definitely be using these for his usual activities for later.

A part of him wanted to scold himself for being so creepy , so weird and so disgusting but…the other part…allowed it, I mean a guy like him with a super mode babe like you? Yeah it seemed impossible to him so…he let himself get attached to the idea of this. The idea of you.

He slinked around your apartment, pocketing jewellery and a bag of chocolate you’d left out ; indulging in it as he walked around , both watching you from his phone and your apartment. He paused briefly just to watch you or more so…your boss talking to you..and your reaction .

Your boss was a well known overly wealthy guy, a creep or what Jason would class as a creep ; always getting you to stay behind or to tend to his every need..which pissed Jason off . You were supposed to tend to his every need, to be there for him to save you and go about your usual routine and right now your boss was keeping you from the usual mugging that happened outside of your office building. Jason rolled his eyes, pushing him self off your couch and out of your apartment , checking before fully leaving .

He was proud of himself , insanely, for breaking in and stealing some of your stuff . Too proud , too cocky about it..he’d probably go and do it again sometime , just to see..to check.

Jason made slow work of moving to go “check for thugs…” which meant he really was just checking for you and there he found you, outside your office waiting for your boss to leave . Jason had suited up mere seconds before running into you…he couldn’t let you see him looking too human, it’d ruin the illusion for you..right?

“Hey pretty..” he hummed , parking his bike just in time to trip a known thug from the area . His expression bored as he watched some baby faced cop make work of arresting the guy , he swiftly moved to place a hand around your waist .

“Red hood.” You greeted him with that usual soft smile and glint of innocence in your eyes , “we have to stop meeting like this..” you joked only for Jason’s grip to turn a little more possessive as he guided you to his bike.

You paused , tilting your head in confusion . Lips all parted and pretty under the street lamp as your hip hit the cold metal of Jason’s bike.

“Come on..it’s safer, you know how Gotham gets at night-“

“But it’s not night…it’s like..-“

“It’s gonna get dark soon,pretty…” he hummed , fingers tracing the bottom of your shirt ; accidentally lifting it a little to get a look at your skin underneath.

“I can walk-“

“I don’t care..” he shrugged , moving to pick you up , his hands gripping you as he placed you on the bike , “please..?” He mumbled , the pure thought of a hero begging you almost did something to you…your cheeks flushing in an instant at the whine.

“Fine but only cause-“ he cut you off with a gentle push , he didnt care to know your reason..he only cared to know that he had you listening to him. His hands guided yours to wrap around his waist , your chin gently leaning on his shoulder .

He set off , without warning , causing a yelp to leave your lips and your hands to grip him a little tighter ; the action causing Jason’s hips to jolt a little…god you were testing him right now . He made work of getting to your apartment , driving slow just to have this moment with you .

“You okay, pretty..?” He drawled out as he turned a corner , eyes trained ahead as to not distract him with the sight of you.

“Mhm..” You quickly answered , a mixed response..sure..to quick to answer probably indicating you were scared or maybe you just didn’t want to talk to him right now .

Once outside your apartment, he stopped ; parking up before sliding off and helping you off the bike and god the sight would stay with him forever . Your hair all wild, lips parted , cheeks flushed , skirt bunched and giving him a sight of your thighs , shirt sticking to your figure from the wind.

He gulped , hand hovering to help you off - you took it, gripping his hand as he led you into your building , maybe you did know what you were doing..or maybe you were completely oblivious..

You both paused once you reached your door, a smile on your face as you opened it, “do you wanna come-“

“Yes.” He quickly cut you off, entering your apartment almost immediately. You didn’t question it , you never did..this was the guy that managed to save your life multiple times a week and well..him wanting to be in your apartment probably just meant he wanted to check incase someone had broken in,right…??

Jason made work on getting comfortable on your couch, his eyes trained to you as you lazily shut your door and slinked into the kitchen , “do you want-“

“Cant drink or eat with the mask on, sweetheart.” He answered, cutting you off once again only this time would it work to fluster you…the pet name shooting heat into your body and causing a small hum to leave your lips ; Jason caught onto this .

“Right..” you mumbled , returning to your living room with a drink in hand . Eyes all doe like and watching him.

“Did work go well..?” He turned his head to watch you , thighs spreading to get ‘comfortable’ although the sight sent another wave of heat through your body.

“Yeah..” you hummed in response , eyes stuck on him as you lifted the cup to your lips, sipping it slowly enough for Jason to fully watch . Thank god for his helmet because he was looking at you with pure hunger , eyes trained to you , lips wet from his tongue darting out so many times .

There was tension in the air , a new tension that caused Jason to stand up . His hand moving to fix your hair , “I uh..” he paused, wanting to stay but..god he couldn’t get this close to you right now. He was torturing himself .

“Gotta go..?” You pouted , cup now placed behind you as you stared up at him, chest hitting his as you moved into his warmth . His hand playing with a loose strand .

“Yeah sweetheart..I gotta go..” he mumbled , voice all gruff and well…cocky enough for a part of you to want him to stay, to get lost in whatever this was. You pouted , a whine leaving your lips which caused Jason to pause ; his hand gripping your hair now moving to push your bottom lip open. You blinked for a moment, letting him do whatever.

He stopped himself , god he hated himself for this . He quickly moved off , gently pulling away but slowly enough for his hand to stroke your face , “I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty..” he scoffed , leaving almost as quickly as he’d entered now leaving you all confused and a little frustrated.

You stood there , watching the door close before you paused .. how on earth did you end up like this..? All star struck by some overly cocky hero…

// @jjenthusee

[altacctforastarion]

So we know how astarion is a vampire and spawn could i request Astarion with a tav and their domestic life and astarion doing weird vampire things sfw maybe nsfw

Sure thing anon! Thank you for requesting!

Warnings: nsfw at the end, 18+ mdni, Cazador fight mentioned, blood drinking, biting

Astarion’s vampiric quirks were well hidden, he didn’t want to scare you off, wanted to bide his time before your group found out he was a vampire, but then he was starving and you were laying there, peaceful and unaware, and he was so, so curious.

When you allowed him to feed on you he grunted against your neck, like an animal consuming meat, and his hands supporting your head had started out gentle, but by the end he was gripping you like a vice, holding you to him as he took enough blood to leave you almost dazed. When he pulled away his red eyes were darker, blown wide and unblinking, going between staring at your bitten pulse point and your eyes, talking to you while seemingly distracted, looking at you like you were a meal waiting to be pounced on and devoured.

He’d blown his cover, and from then on the little quirks started surfacing. He started with the staring, starting the morning after he’d bitten you. You’d woken up and gone about the morning as usual, thanking Gale for the breakfast and sitting down to eat, when you felt eyes on you. Goosebumps raised on your skin, and you looked around until you saw him, sitting on the stool in front of his tent and staring at you with the same expression as the night before. You’d waved as you pushed away your anxiety, and he blinked, only once, before he smiled at you and bid you good morning. When you spoke to him about the night before he didn’t blink once, listening intently while you spoke before telling you you’re lucky he’s not a full vampire. You’d wondered how creepy a full vampire is, if he was like this as a spawn.

Then he started sneaking up on you, unintentionally creeping through camp when he wanted to talk, nearly sending you flying out of your skin. There were numerous times where you turned around and his face was inches from yours, and he barely acknowledged your panic, simply starting a conversation or asking you a question, but you noticed the smirk on his lips the few times you shrieked and jumped before eventually getting used to his antics.

The first time you slept together, he seemed like any other humanoid, breathing, blinking, the works, but the second time he simply stopped breathing, and when you checked on him he said he was simply lost in the moment, seeming embarrassed. You’d told him it was ok, and you got an odd sense of satisfaction when instead of the normal gasps and moans, his throat had clicked and his chest rattled like a purr.

—

When he confessed that he’d manipulated you, and you’d been understanding, if a bit hurt, things changed again. He became protective, growling if someone that wasn’t in your group got too close to you, and got violent or explosive with his anger if someone threatened or insulted you. When you’d asked him about it after he’d lunged at someone who was a little rude, dagger in hand and growl in his throat, he told you that he wouldn’t stand for someone being that way towards you, but under his confidence was a bit of confusion, so you decided not to push.

You also refrain from questioning him when you notice your “lost” clothes in his tent, or when he starts to sit very close to you, nose nuzzling into your neck, sometimes sniffing, sometimes just rubbing against you similar to how a cat would. Asking might mean he’d stop or feel ashamed, and you’d never want that.

—

When you stood in front of Cazador, the vampire had laughed, his eyes on the scars on your neck, “I look forward to tasting your mate, Astarion. They’ll make a good replacement for you after the Black Mass.” and Astarion fucking lost it, going for the kill and nearly striking his former master before becoming part of the ritual. Cazador had targeted you, showing up behind you and trying to grab you as you freed Astarion, but you’d had a vampire creeping up on you for months at this point, and your ears were trained for any little sound. You’d casted sunbeam and freed your partner with urgency, and watched as Astarion took advantage of the weakness you’d exploited.

After defeated Cazador, you returned to Elfsong and helped Astarion bathe, pretending not to notice the clicking of his throat as he cried. When he was clean you offered him space, but he wordlessly led you to your bed, and held you close until he’d calmed down, his face buried in your neck, breathing your scent in deep. When he was calm he took you to his grave, and told you he loved you for the first time before taking his life back on top of the earth above his coffin.

—

Your eyes snap open, sleep has your vision blurry but you look around the dimly lit room anyways, panic bubbling up inside of you as you feel watched. Eyes stare at you, from the foot of your bed, yellow and bright, and it takes you a moment to register what you’re seeing, making out his pale features first, and relaxing as you recognize it’s just Astarion, his knees on the mattress, as if he just started to come into bed with you.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is rough, from your lack of air, and from the sleep you’d been ripped from. He looks down at himself as if he’s surprised at where he is, and you imagine him creeping towards you, stalking you like a cat stalks a mouse without even thinking about his actions.

His throat clicks as he tries to speak, before you hear him inhale, “Watching.” He moves closer to you, crawling up your body until he’s on top of you, his weight distributed so he’s not hurting you, but keeping you from moving. He looks down at you, and you notice that he’s looking at your pulse.

You tilt your head to the side, offering your neck to him, “You could have just asked instead of being terrifying.” You try to sound annoyed but your face is warm, and you curse him mentally for having the audacity to be so attractive while he’s doing something that would have most running for the hills. Your hands go to his chest, not applying pressure, just wanting to touch him.

“I don’t want your blood,” he says, but then corrects himself, “Well, I wouldn’t say no to having your blood, but I only wanted to look at you. You can go back to sleep.”

“Well no, Astarion, I can’t go back to sleep. You were terrifying and now you’re on top of me. How often do you do this?” He moves to get off of you, nodding as though he hadn’t thought his body on top of you might hinder your ability to get back to sleep, but you grasp at his shoulders,keeping him on top of you. You don’t want to sleep now.

“Oh, would you rather do something else?” He smiles down at you, looking innocent, as if he hadn’t just been watching you sleep before pinning you down. You don’t notice your heart beat pick up until his eyes shift to your pulse point, and his smile turns into a dangerous grin, just slightly too wide and his fangs are too visible to keep up the innocent facade. You shift your eyes away from his, Astarion has had you on this bed a hundred times over but it’s hard not to feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you that way.

You feel the bed move just slightly, but his weight is still on top of you, and when you look back his face is so close your noses are an inch from touching, his eyes lighting up when your body jolts, startled, your heart beating impossibly fast. He looks ready to devour you, and you’d let him, but instead he presses a slow kiss to your lips, and his hips roll just slightly, his clothed cock pressing against you, and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away, his face going to your throat and his lips on your pulse, you feel him breathe in deeply, inhaling your scent, and lets out an animalistic groan, “Mine.”

“Yours, Astarion.” Your hands go to his hair and shoulder, and you pull him closer to your neck, urging him to do as he pleases. He licks your neck before he bites it, one wide stripe up, slowly, and then sinks his fangs in you with another groan, his pelvis rutting against you as he takes your blood. You gasp, and his hands go to your upper back and the back of your head, supporting you and keeping you close, his body pressing against you more and the pressure against your ribs hurts just a little, but the pleasure you get from his rutting and the sounds he makes as he feeds makes up for it.

He pulls away when you start to get dizzy, and you chase his bloodied lips, the taste of iron hitting your tongue as he pushes his into your mouth, spreading your legs and putting himself in between them, breaking the kiss for mere seconds in the process before kissing you again with haste, and his hands go to your nightshirt, briefly fighting with the buttons before ripping it, sending buttons flying everywhere. You make a mental note to demand he find those buttons and sew them back on later, the thought leaves your head when his mouth leaves yours and goes to your breasts, licking and nibbling the sensitive skin there.

“Astarion, please.” You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but he’s particularly feral in a way he rarely is, and it’s really doing it for you.

He looks at you with those hungry eyes, and you watch as they soften for just a second, “Anything for you, my love.” The softness leaves quickly, and he wastes no time removing your clothes, and wouldn’t have removed his own if you didn’t push him away and demand it.

When he finally sinks into you, he growls against your neck, and lets out a dark laugh when he feels you clench around him, a hand cupping your jaw, “Is this what gets you doing, darling?”

He lets you adjust for just a second, thumb stroking your cheek as he looks down of you, his crimson eyes filled with lust, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in, setting a harsh pace, groaning in response to your moans. You attempt to pull him down, wanting him to kiss you while he fucks you relentlessly, but he smirks down at you instead, “That’s sweet, my love, but I plan on watching you cum on my cock. You wouldn’t deny me the view would you?”

You whine and shake your head, and he growls again, deep in his throat, and you feel the vibrations on your skin. His hand on your jaw squeezes a bit, not painfully but you definitely feel the pressure, and he looks so lost in his pleasure you don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.

One of your hands grips his hair, your other grasping at his shoulder, nails digging in just slightly, needing to hold on as he fucks you hard, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room and leaving you feeling full. You know he’s close and you are too but you need something more, as hot as his eagerness was, you lacked the foreplay you typically have when you have sex.

Astarion shifts, his arm resting partially on your shoulder, partially on the bed next to your head, resting his weight there so he doesn’t crush you as the hand that had been supporting him goes in between your bodies, teasing your clit and pulling a desperate whine from you. He grins, all teeth and fangs, as he starts to touch you properly, rubbing firm circles into your sensitive clit, watching as your eyes slip shut, so very close to your release.

“Eyes on me, my love, or I’ll stop.” He taunts, voice low, and your eyes snap open at the threat, your hand in his hair tugging as if having a better grip would save you. He grunts when you pull his hair, letting your grip pull his head back for a moment, before refocusing on you. “Cum for me, beautiful, and tell me you’re mine.”

It’s hot and possessiveness isn’t usually your thing, but in the privacy of your room, laying under him while he growls and fucks you like it’s the most urgent thing in the world, it’s enough to send you over the edge with a cry, followed by your panted words, “I’m yours, Astarion, all yours.”

He works you through it, and his fingers never stop touching your clit, even as you start to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure. He leans down and kisses you, mostly tongue, licking deep into your mouth as he cums with a grunt. “And I’m yours, darling.”

[weebsinstash]

I'm drinking my yandere Justice League juice again because I keep thinking of all sorts of multiverse/timetravel plotlines because the superhero genre is genuinely so full of fun and weird and dramatic and sad opportunities

You accidentally get sent into another dimension and meet another Justice League who helps you return home! .... except you don't exist in their universe and now they really miss you and they keep coming back to your home dimension to visit and eventually try to take you away entirely, even willing to square up with "your" versions of themselves to do it

Reader who figured out by themselves how to escape a timeline where you were actually treated fairly poorly by the Justice League and they come after you because "oh, we promise we'll be different this time, and also we totally won't be extremely possessive because you have the power to leave us now, uhhhh dont you want to restore the balance, what if this uhhhhhh ruins the timeline, we better take you home"

Do we have any Re Zero fans in here. Have any of you seen where it's revealed every time Subaru dies, he's actually somehow joining a brand new universe/taking over another version of himself, or a new universe is being created, and that the universe he died in is just, forever like that now, it doesn't just blip away, everyone he was with or saw him die is now dealing with the after effects?

We could go two ways here: Reader dies a hero and the Justice League goes insane with grief and guilt that you sacrificed yourself or that they couldn't save you, OR, Reader just straight fucking kills themselves after a series of like manhwa-levels of betrayals and dickery from the League, maybe they even kicked you out or shunned you after some sort of mistake, and they're desperate to make things up to you when they find out you're still out there

Like, the trauma they experience when you die and they find out you're still alive and they COME TO GET YOU??? The JEALOUSY that you're WITH THEM but not with THEM? And then you just fucking say, "no thanks I want to stay here, I like my new life here"???

The GASLIGHTING. The MANIPULATION. It's all the more juicy when you think of the different depictions of time travel and multiverse shit because, sometimes time travel is depicted as super rigid, like if you fuck up the past you return to a completely different future, and sometimes it's depicted almost like string theory where any divergence is just a brand new dimension to hop between, so like... I dunno if I explained that well enough but, your former JL genuinely convinced something could happen but also trying to manipulate you by saying you not returning to their timeline could have terrible consequences, meanwhile here's like, New Flash, "technically if they killed themselves in your timeline wouldn't it, I dunno, break reality or something if you brought them back anyways" and your new Justice League, uh, definitely isn't willing to give you back either, especially if they mistreated you

New JL is convinced Old JL was abusive and doesn't appreciate you. Old JL thinks New JL are exploitative manipulative creeps who are taking advantage of you during a vulnerable time. Neither side thinks the other deserves you.

Also consider??? Platonic yandere JL vs romantic/sexual yandere JL???? Because that could be wild either way too? Like, the perspective is nuanced from both angles. Old JL being the platonic ones and thinking, you know, kind of what I just said about thinking New JL are creeps but like, ESPECIALLY thinking they're creeps, like manipulative EVIL perverts because what the fuck do you mean you 'took our friend' after they had this traumatic death and you all want to sleep with them and keep them in your new timeline, the fuck??? Give them back??? Or, the reverse, where New JL is like, "oh my fucking god what is wrong with you guys?? Reader is so cute and funny and nice and you're all so creepy, how could you ever want to sleep with this little cinnamon roll you perverted fiends, tf, no wonder they left you??? And now you're chasing them??? You guys are like demonic??? It's giving prison??? It's giving UNDER the prison???"

You've got one yandere Batman over here borderline Jojo posing, "Reader may not be from our timeline originally, but that doesn't mean they're not allowed the choice to make this their new home, you dastardly knight of darkness!" and meanwhile the other yandere Batman who is dressed entirely in black and not a speck of color on him is glowering silently and trying to formulate how to break every bone in his alternate's body in the most painful but nonlethal way possible

Both J'onn's becoming immediately shaken up as they read the minds of their opposition and their other self and realizing just how crazy they all are but especially what they think of you, memories of you, what they want to do to you--

Platonic Superman is doing his best to be nice, "I don't know who you think you are, but you're not welcome here and you need to leave" and the romantic Superman just fully unabashedly, "I'm the man who's going to marry them" and here's platonic Supes recalling how you've had dinner with him and his wife at his home and he's let you hold his infant child and now he's imagining you getting snatched away and goodness forbid impregnated by this 'clearly evil' version of himself and a little voice inside of Clark goes, "oh, I know who you are now :) you're the man I'm about to punch straight back through the multiverse"

Reader finding out both dimensions of Justice Leaguers are crazy and having to flee to a THIRD dimension and that's either another "friends to captors" situation or you just accidentally wind up in like, one of the many many evil timelines. Oh wow you thought dealing with Batman was bad? Imagine dealing with an Owlman who takes all of Bruce's typical traits and enhances the worst aspects of them to 100. Depictions of Owlman range from "this psychotic kid is the one who arranged the death of his parents to steal their fortune and he's sadistic and mean" to "this version of Bruce is SO literally-thinking autistic that he thinks only the 'original' dimension that all other dimensions stem from is all that matters and that none of the choices anyone makes or the things that happen in every other dimension even matters so why not just like, find Universe Zero and destroy it which would just staight up fucking kill all life ever, because what's the point in any of us being alive lol"

O-oh no, pleeeease don't kidnap me or goad me into sexually charged fights, evil alternate universe lesbian versions of Wonder Woman and Catwomn and Black Canary 👀 I'm so sensitive and fragile and delicate 🥺 I bruise like a little peach you know 👀 pwease dont pin me down and mess up your lipstick all over my face neck and collarbones, that would just be MISERABLE 🥴

Somewhere in a conference room in the Watchtower there's like a hidden meeting discussing who gets custody of you this upcoming weekend. Are you getting swept up in a throuple with John and Shayeera? Are you suffering through the company of a version of Batman who's a miserable alcoholic Thomas Wayne who has trauma bonded onto you and sees you like a surrogate child that his PTSD convinces could be killed at any moment? Are you gonna 'get a ride in the Flash Mobile'? Does a very loud and bombastic version of Aquaman want to teach you to be a better swimmer? They could argue on a schedule for hours until they all finally agree on some sort of spread sheet, but, let's face it: they won't be able to patiently share you forever :) the question eventually becomes, "who will be the first one to snap and betray all the others and take you for themselves?" who knows, maybe it would even BE The Question!

[skynapple]

Embrace

Love and Deepspace | Xavier x MC

Hurt/Comfort/Fluff/Slight Angst/SFW

Word count: i don't freaking know it's 3am have fun (unedited)

cw: alcohol

Xavier wasn't used to physical affection, and frankly it wasn't a habit, until he met her. A long time ago, he had his first real hug. Not a token of gratitude or necessity, but because he'd wanted it; because he'd meant so much more than words could express, because it was her. In a split second question of timidity and vulnerability, it occurred to him to try it out. It was embedded in his mind, the shape of her etched into his soul. But just as quickly as that hug had come and gone, so had her presence in his life. And for a long time, he hadn't quite felt that inclined towards any physicality that way. Until today.

--

Learning about Xavier was learning that underneath a steely exterior was actually something akin to a marshmallow. Where once was a dangerous and mysterious person, tough as nails and feared by the very monsters that kept children awake at night, became a trusted friend and ally, who slept all day and also would rather watch the birds go by in the sun curled up a good book. The imagery felt stark, but it warmed her.

There was something so soft about seeing her neighbor in his usual cozy knits. He looked like a marshmallow. Sometimes, he smelled like one too. Although she herself wasn't necessarily a hugger, there was something so... squishable about the Xavier that she felt selfishly happy to get to know privately in a way their other colleagues couldn't. There he was, sunk into an oversized bean bag on a Friday night, munching on his 4th egg tart, eyes glued to the movie screen, a scowl on his face.

"This is... really bad. He couldn't have survived that. He isn't even bleeding. Why is she hugging him? Wouldn't his ribs get crushed?" She'd learned quickly that Xavier liked to bag on cheesy movies, so she enjoyed torturing her neighbor with new hokey romantic action comedies. This particular cult classic was the worst yet.

"Shhh! This is the best part!" She hushed, and in his chagrin he stuffed the finishing bite of his egg tart (his bribe for tonight) in his mouth.

When the movie ended and it was time for him to head back upstairs to his apartment, he stood at the door shaking his head at what he was saying his creative-life-choices-for-listening-to-you. She wasn't really thinking about it when she reached out to hug him on his way out the door. He'd stiffened but said nothing. It just felt like a comfortable, friendly, perhaps neighborly thing to do. She just couldn't resist with his somewhat pouty expression in his chunky white hoodie. Again, he looked squishable to her.

He was warmer than she thought. The plush cotton of his hoodie felt soft as it crumpled against her cheek. The feel of his chest against her much shorter frame felt like taking hold of a large sturdy tree trunk, firm, but completely enveloped in swaths of plush fabric that smelled sweet and refreshing, and mostly like generic cheap detergent. In the brief moment of connection, although she didn't feel him hug back, there was something sweet and secure about being so close to him. There was a hint of a smile as he waved off and disappeared down their corridor. Although her cheeks were warm from her own boldness, she thought little else of it afterwards.

She didn't mean to be drawn to his warmth. He didn't have a particularly strong personal scent, unlike other men who she could smell the spice-filled deodorant on from a whole minute away. Xavier instead had a comforting warmth to his smell. She wasn't sure why she liked it so much, but very quickly realized how addicting it could become just to be close enough to him. Embarrassingly, she felt like a complete creep to think about her neighbor that way. She soothed her mind to think it shouldn't be creepy, and probably a flattering compliment that he smelled really good if it ever came up between them. For the time being, she decided to keep it to herself.

It wasn't supposed to become a habit. Quick hugs at the end of a shift to say a fast thanks-for-your-support, another quick hug after a mission to say I'm-glad-you're-not-hurt. Then in the morning once running into him on the way to work to say have-a-good-day. The side hugs, although brief, become more and more frequent, while she grew more and more accustomed to him, and less apt to resist against his completely huggable fashion choices and yes, his addicting features and scent. She figured if he minded he might have said, and besides, it was quick and not awkward, probably. At some point, although she couldn't recall exactly when it started, she noticed he'd be reaching for her as if expected at those moments too. Comfortable, friendly, neighborly. Probably.

The first time it lingered was after a multi-day mission. The wanderers had been relentless, and then she and he both were selected to clean up the remnants. Exhaustion ached in her bones and she didn't think much of resting her weary head on his chest in a brief moment of silence while awaiting orders. In that moment she'd felt a hand on the back of her head, where now she felt sandwiched against him. Then after another breath, she tiredly lifted her bruised arms up around his waist and he wordlessly wrapped his other arm around her upper back. It didn't feel like a hug so much as it felt like support. As they were dismissed from the mission finally, on the way back, she found herself in his arms once more. A true hug at the end to say nothing, where no words were needed, where words weren't anything at all. Just her wrapped in him, him wrapped in her, weary bodies for a split moment of warmth after many days of cold and work.

Then it became etched in her mind, the feeling of him encased in her arms really begun to feel normal. Everytime she saw him, she could feel her expression light up, and her arms would go out for him to meet - and he always would. A two-second connection on the go, or coming home, nearly daily, and no longer awkward. It was hello's, see you's, I hope you feel better's, good work's, thank you's, and everything between. It didn't feel out of-ordinary. Why should it?

Only on herself she couldn't recognize all the ways she'd light up around him. The way she'd press into him a little more just to breathe him in a little better. The way the very essence of him had become comforting to her. With every thing they went through, and had begun to overcome together, how her feelings for him had enraptured every piece of her until she could no longer tell herself apart from having him in her life. Every moment with him just felt right. Every moment with him was better and better.

Until of course, one small phrase slipped through the cracks of her confident exterior. Just one doubt in her mind was enough to shatter her perceived comfort and mindless physical friendly affection with him.

"Are you guys dating?" It was from a coworker with a somewhat cynical expression that she couldn't quite read. The woman had an arm crossed over her chest, the other with a cocktail as around them the party music at the event blared. It threw off her hearing and she had lean closer to the other woman.

"What?"

"I said are you guys dating?"

"What- why do you ask?"

The woman made a face and trailed her eyes over to Xavier at the other end of venue hall, attending to the beverage table.

"You guys seem pretty close. And you're always clinging to each other."

Although she'd not had any alcohol yet, the expression and the mere thought of the implication had her head swirling. While she'd known her feelings for Xavier had grown to undeniable levels, she hadn't expected to be accused of actually dating him. Her heart raced at how to answer, wondering how he would feel or respond if asked the same. While she knew the answer was 'No' the fact that she so badly wanted to say 'Yes' had her tongue tied. Then of course the completely harrowing feeling of not knowing if he felt the same, or if the same feelings she'd been dealing with for months now were hers alone to bear. After all, Xavier was a puzzle. Close one moment, and distant the next. He felt miles away across the room in that moment, and though she didn't realize it yet, a fissure formed in her mind.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally found the strength to tell the truth,

"No we're not. We've just been mission partners a lot."

The woman who'd asked only nodded in another unreadable expression, then smirked as she took a sip of her cocktail.

"I see. I thought so I just couldn't tell 'cause you guys seem so close I kind of thought, no way they're not dating," she snicked, taking another gulp then placed a hand on her hip, "Cause like, you better be careful sweetie, guys get the wrong idea when you hug 'em like that. Might want a little something extra if you treat 'em special like that if you know what I mean, 'cause isn't that what they all want, huh? I'd just be careful, mmkay? And you don't really know if he's single too. Guys act like that then be popping up with girlfriends and you don't wanna be hugging somebody else's boyfriend like that, you know what I'm saying?"

As her heart sank and her chest burned at the accusations rolling off her coworker's tongue, she could scarcely think of a word to say before the woman in her audacity continued with a wink that felt cold as ice,

"Just girl to girl, looking out for you ok? You do you, boo. I got your back."

The first thing in her mind besides her cheeks heated with embarrassment and anger was 'Xavier isn't like that' but before she could find better words or what she really wanted to say akin to mind-your-business only came out in a frustratingly weak tone as

"I'll be careful. But-"

And there he was to break her thoughts, handing her the drink he'd promised. An arm goes up instinctively to catch his frame but for the first time in the months she's gotten close, she hesitates, and she isn't sure why. She quickly defers the movement to grasping the drink and saying a quick thank you.

The woman beside her bears a grin that for all intents and purposes feels somewhat triumphant.

The rest of the evening party continues and her head swirls. She drinks too much to forget, and is grateful to be walked home by the person she actually trusts.

"Why do oowr cowork's have foo" –hiccup– "be so goddawmn nosey ass-"

"Shhh." Xavier soothes, a hand on her lower back as he helps her unlock her apartment door. As he attends to making sure she's hydrated, he agrees to leave once he's sure she's going straight to bed.

"I can help you in the morning. There's a hangover recipe- never mind, I'll tell you in the morning. Good night."

He waits. She goes in to hug him good night, then stops, and rubs her head.

"Mmp... yeah, night."

He thinks nothing much of it, not while she's this drunk, and affectionately fills the gap to clasp her in a side hug.

"Yes, good night foo you."

It's when she isn't drunk that the habit that slowly formed over time is broken as easily as it crept in. Morning hugs replaced by her hands clasped behind her back, or busied by other things. Where she would have trotted over to greet him before, she stays put, albeit with a warm gaze, but she stays.

She hated that it got to her, but she hated to think the grain of salt she took was that she isn't sure what Xavier feels for her. The fact of the matter is that she wants him to be hers, she wants him wholly, and she wants their connection to be deeper. The uncertainty slices through her, enough to keep her up at night. It creeps in to think that maybe he doesn't feel any special sort of way about her, that this normality they've built was somehow built on her getting carried away, or that he felt like he couldn't refuse, or worse, that he only could think of them as friends and nothing more. She was sure sometimes, sometimes that the sweet things he said to her had deeper meaning, but since it was only guesswork, she had to err on the possibility that he was just sickeningly nice. It made her stomach turn to think that. It stuck with her; holding someone that didn't belong to her. It hurt.

What began as quicker, shorter exchanges started to build into what felt like avoidance. Excuses not to see him. Taking a slower route not to meet up accidentally-on-purpose the way she had been. It wasn't that she wanted him to see someone else, but the chasm in her heart felt too wide now. It needed a bridge, and the bridge needed desperate crossing. But bridges are built wooden piece by wooden piece, and she found she was not a carpenter. Finding the way to start the conversation was difficult, and she felt she couldn't get the words wrong. That, and mentally she was preparing for the possibility that this distance was better for him, that he might prefer it, and that she'd been too clingy with someone that didn't belong to her. The dull ache in her chest kept her up at night, preventing her from sleep.

----

What she didn't realize was that Xavier was a creature of habit. Forming them had to feel natural, especially when he was resistant to things that felt forced. More than that, it was change that he hated, especially the habit-disrupting kind, and especially anything that came to her.

He knew things changed that night at the party, the way her expression looked sour, and the way she began to act different afterwards. Excuses weren't easy to come by.

The first time she'd put her arms around him in this lifetime felt like opening a floodgate. It was torture to keep composure. It was torture that he couldn't decide whether or not to keep his distance for her protection, or rules be damned in his greed to become close to her - because for the first time in his life he had something of a freedom to.

And yet she'd found ways to surprise him, small comforting affections that kept him addicted to her, wanting more, opening the steel drawbridge to the castle that he was. He knew exactly when and how she began to hug him differently. It had become such an uncanny indulgence and addiction that it was impossible not to notice. It wasn't that she wasn't allowed not to, it was the level of sincerity that he sensed; it was the perceived hesitation. He could read her better than anyone. Something was different, and he hated it. It felt like an itch under his skin that he couldn't find. Something was wrong. At first he wondered if she wasn't feeling well and needed space, but too many things added up to telling him that she was actively avoiding him. The sting is worse than the red restriction tech around his neck.

He tries catching her once, a swift movement after work by a gentle touch of her arm, asking sincerely if something was wrong.

"Is everything ok?"

"Hmm?"

"You haven't been avoiding me have you? Did...I do something wrong?"

"What!?" Her eyes widen and for the first time in what feels like ages she looks warmly at him. Although, he doesn't miss the way she gulps or swallows whatever she's keeping down.

"Of course not!" She exclaims, shaking her head, "You're totally fine!"

He stiffens, not liking where this is going. "Then why have you been avoiding me?" It's spoken like a dry statement.

"I have not! I've just... I've been pretty tired and I've been running around. That's all! You're fine!"

The words were soothing but he knows better and looks at her through his somewhat pouty cheeks and furrowed brow. "If that's true then you won't mind accompanying me tonight. I don't have groceries at home, so I was going to grab some dinner."

He names a place he knows she loves and watches her face contort as he can feel her scraping for an excuse.

"I have some stuff at home I was going to eat, but I haven't been feeling great, so I probably shouldn't eat out too. Thanks though! I'll see you!"

His arms go up to receive her, but she's already turning away. This feeling in his chest is new, and he can't name it yet, but he knows that he hates it, and he knows it keeps growing no matter what he does.

The last straw is when he can see her coming back from a separate mission. There's a few partners with them. A man and two other women. He watches through the floor-to-ceiling glass office walls, high above to the ground level below as she hugs every single one of them goodbye. Watching her arms go up around another man when he hasn't felt her touch in nearly two weeks makes his chest rise and fall, blood swirling cold through his veins. The light fixture outside above where she's standing flickers on and off. He wonders if she notices. He wonders if she cares.

Taking a shallow breath to steady his tone, he knocks on her door, attempting to articulate his words in his mind. Negotiation was a tactic he'd had to learn from a young age. It was part of his many positions. But navigating relationships was another thing entirely. Navigating the pain of watching someone slip inexplicably from your grasp felt too tumultuous to bear.

When she finally opens, he searches her eyes for any signs of apprehension and when he finds none, he feels his eyes narrow in concern.

"You really are avoiding me."

She almost looked irritated. The unfamiliar expression killed him inside. The fact that it felt he hadn't seen the sweetness of her eyes lit up to see him in weeks felt like a piece of him had faded away.

"Xavier? What? No I'm n-"

"I don't want to hear you lie to me," he intercepted firmly, crossing his arms but keeping his tone even. "You know you have. You're not very good at hiding it."

Now she looked offended and crossed her arms, too, huffing. "What? What do you mean?! If I was really avoiding you, do you really think I would have opened the door like this? Where is this coming from?"

She sounded defensive, and was deflecting. As usual. As expected. He stood his ground, crystal eyes narrowed. It took a moment, but he responded,

"You haven't been greeting me like you used to," a bit softer as he often did, before managing to maintain a stern air again. "Tell me what happened at the party. If you say I didn't do something but you've been taking longer train routes to avoid seeing me-"

"Wait- taking longer train routes? How do you know that?"

"Is it so much not to assume? You usually get home at the same time otherwise." He responded quietly before giving her a look, "And you also are still sharing your location with my hunter watch."

"...Oh."

Looking a bit sheepish, she looked away and huffed another sigh, holding the door a little wider for him to enter through before closing it behind him. She ran a hand over her face in exasperation.

"Look, Xavier... things are fine, really. I told you. You're not doing anything wrong. I'm just... dealing with some stuff."

There was an ounce of truth in there, but it wasn't sufficient.

"I... believe you," he said, watching as she looked up at him in earnest surprise. Then continued, "I also know something happened at the party."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, hands clasped in front of her, "What makes you say that? Oh, is it because I got drunk...?"

He shook his head, arms no longer crossed. It felt like peeling the skin of an apple with a dull knife.

"You looked unhappy. Before you drank. Like someone told you something."

For a moment she was quiet, then she ran both hands over her face, holding her head in her hands after she did.

"We just... people kind of..., I just realized people might think we look like... we're together but we're not? I'm just... I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

Xavier felt his heart clench. Of all the things he had surmised, this wasn't of them.

"Why do you care what other people think?"

"I don't! I just..."

"Over me?"

She looked up at him again, eyebrows knit together, eyes wide. He couldn't tell if she looked like she finally understood what she was doing to him, or if she was looking to dodge away again. As if to prevent it in case, he took a step forward, hands facing palms out, but not moving more than that.

"I..." He took a breath to steady himself again while he couldn't meet her gaze, "...Got used to you."

She frowned deeper again, and then before either of them could fill the space with more useless words, she closed the gap, throwing her arms around him to feel his heartbeat against her skull again.

Just having her in his arms once more he could feel her wash over him, like a giant bucket of paint pouring out, covering everything in him in her. It made him hold her a little tighter, jealousy, hurt, and anger being soothed just slightly while her fingertips pressed into his back.

"I just..." She said, muffled against him before pulling back just enough to speak clearer, voice breaking, and breaking his heart as she did. "I'm not... your girlfriend so I wasn't sure if this was ok."

He felt himself soften, and his heart race all the same. He wanted to scold her for avoiding him so carelessly over something so frivolous, and still wanted to know what exactly spurred the thought in her head. More than anything, he wanted to soothe what he saw in her eyes, realizing that that reflected his own.

"You're not but... that part's the easy thing to fix."

Now her eyes lit up, for the first time in weeks, and he could feel her embrace tighten even more, making his heart swell.

"I thought..." she stared, "I know we've been getting close but I didn't want to assume."

He didn't dare move but tried to give her an even softer expression than before.

"I've been meaning to talk to you. How could you think you weren't the most important person in my life?"

The memory came back. A long, long time ago. Words he couldn't convey then.

"My feelings for you won't ever change."

For a few moments more they held each other in silence. Though he could not see the way she looked emotional, she still smiled as utter relief seeped into her, "Xavier..."

Now his chest tightened, nearly trembling while his voice was barely over a whisper.

"You... normally look at me and say my name... like you're happy. You suddenly stopped saying my name like this."

Gasping, she looked up, pulling a hand back to brush her fingertips on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry. I was trying to think of how to talk to you. I- I wanted to."

He allowed a smile and catches her hand in his own, kissing the top of it, blush matching her own.

"I'll be by your side when you say my name. I'll always come to you. So you're not allowed to stop saying my name like this."

Though it wasn't humorous, she laughed, understanding the forgiveness, and the implication.

"Xavier."

She had been his first real hug so very long ago. Now as they leaned together in a new embrace, they marked their first real kiss at the start of a new beginning.

He repeated her name to her. It felt like a promise.

---

Bonus;

"Now that I'm your girlfriend... I'm stealing your hoodie."

"Why?"

She beamed, feeling free for the first time. "You smell good."

[oldwritingm]

Hey can we get the Ninjas with an S/O who's basically Jessica rabbit and how they would deal with people constantly hitting on their S/O?

Of course my dear!! Unrelated but I love Jessica Rabbit,,,

Ninjago - Ninjas With an s/o Who Gets Flited With a Lot

Kai

When he first sees someone flirting with you, his initial reaction is a sort of pride

He's happy that other people are noticing how smoking hot his s/o is

But that only lasts for half a second; then comes the jealousy

He hops up and tries to look casual while he saunters over and wraps an arm around your waist

He'll stare coldly at the person flirting with you, trying to intimidate them

When it doesn't work he uses his voice, trying to show the person that they're not welcome

"And just who are you again?"

He'll only get more passive aggressive as the interaction goes on

There have been times that he's escalated it to straight-up aggression, and even violence, at which point you had to take it upon yourself to remove you both from the situation

You'll have to talk to him while he cools down, letting him vent about how angry the person was making him

In the end he knows it's not your fault and that you'd never leave him

Still, reassuring him on that front would probably help him calm down

He's just mad that some scumbag thought they could take you from him

After such an instance he usually sticks close to you, making sure to keep a hand on you to demonstrate that you're together

Cole

He doesn't really care when people flirt with you

He knows that it's only natural; you're the most gorgeous person in the world to him (and others, evidently)

He trusts that you'll be loyal and that you can handle yourself

But he still keeps an eye on you when out in public

He's watching to see if you're uncomfortable and need help; only then will he step in

He knows all your tells, but you guys also have a secret hand gesture that means you need help

So, when he sees the gesture, or any body language signaling that you're uncomfortable, he jumps into action

He sidles up to your side, placing himself as close as possible to you

He'll try to be at least somewhat pleasant at first: just emphasizing that you guys are dating, hoping to put the person off

But if that doesn't work he'll be more blunt

"Dude. You're being creepy. Get lost."

When they finally leave, he checks to make sure you're okay

Your well-being is much more important to him than any doubts he might have about your relationship

Not that he has any; he's fully confident that your relationship is strong

But if he did he'd still put you first

If you want him to be your body guard for the rest of the night, he'll happily oblige

(and he makes a pretty good guard, too, being so huge and intimidating (when he wants to be))

Jay

He HATES when people flirt with you

Like, he knows why; you're obviously always the most attractive person in the room

But you're his s/o! Other people shouldn't be flirting with you!

Sometimes he wishes that you could just wear a big sign that says "I'm taken"

(He has actually asked you to do this before)

The second he sees someone talking to you, he's already inching closer to see what's up

Even if they're not being outright flirty, he's still suspicious of them

He'll keep getting closer, not bothering to be sneaky at all

This often has the unintentional effect of the person leaving before he even gets within talking range

They just get creeped out that this guy is glaring at them while slowly yet steadily approaching

If they don't get scared off, he wraps an arm around you and intensifies his glare

He'll insert himself into the conversation crudely, speaking directly to you and "ignoring" the other person

"Hey, babe. Ready to go back to our shared apartment? Where we live together because we're partners?"

Then the person usually takes the hint, but by then they're probably more amused than annoyed

When they're finally gone Jay still watches them, still glaring

He's a little insecure that you'll leave him, just because you're so stunning (and, admittedly, sometimes the people flirting with you are, too)

He'll need lots of reassurance that he's good enough for you :(

Zane

Out of all the ninjas, Zane is the most bothered when people flirt with you

He knows he's not the best when it comes to romance, so he feels like every time someone flirts with you he's instantly being one-upped

It makes him more sad and insecure than anything

He knows that you're loyal to him, so he's not jealous

But he doesn't know why you're so adamant to stay with him, especially when someone flirts with you

He just frowns while he listens to their clever pick up lines, sometimes not even understanding them

It makes him feel a little better when you frown, too

When you send him the "a little help here?" look, though, that's when his heart skips a beat

It's his chance to show why he's the one you chose

He balks for half a second, but quickly gathers the courage to insert himself into the interaction

He places himself at your side, standing like a perfect gentleman and even smiling faintly (despite the fact that he feels a little inferior to the flirter)

Then it's your cue to emphasize what a gentleman he is, and how disinterested you are in everyone else

"This is my boyfriend, Zane. He's always so respectful in. Just look at how he's standing! Never gets all handsy or flirty in public, either."

Zane just nods, his smile growing along with his confidence

He needs to hear those words about as much as his "competitor" does

Once they're gone, he feels much more confident about himself and why you want to be with him :)

Lloyd

Lloyd respects you immensely; he knows you're loyal, honorable, brave... and most of all, drop-dead gorgeous

It's that last thing that worries him a little

Not because it makes him question your other merits; not at all

It makes him more conscious about others' merits (or rather, lack of)

He doesn't trust people to be respectful to you

He tries his best not to hover when you're in public, but he does get a touch anxious if you don't check in every now and again

Especially if you're the type to get uncomfortable when someone flirts with you

He tries to prevent flirting from happening in the first place, but sometimes it just can't be helped

The second he sees someone flirting with you, anxiety strikes

He knows how... inappropriate flirting can get, and just the thought makes him blush

He doesn't want you to be subject to that

So he'll hurry to your side, turning the situation away from romance

He won't be nasty or try to scare the person off, he'll just redirect the conversation

"Hey, how about that game last night? The, uh... sports... game..."

He's trying 😭

He doesn't want to disrespect this person (even though they're low-key disrespecting you)

When they're gone he'll double-check to make sure they didn't make you uncomfortable or anything

As long as you're good, he's good :) until someone else comes up

Nya

She also gets flirted with a lot, especially operating in a team of all boys

So she knows the struggle, and she's fully equipped to help you out

She'll teach you the tricks she's learned to scare off creeps, but of course she's also always more than happy to step in

You guys have a complete code language of phrases and gestures that mean things ranging from "creep o'clock, be on guard" to "I'm good, are you?" to "please save me"

To give an example: if you're both in a conversation and someone is starting to seem like they have bad intentions, you can say "I saw a snake a while ago," which means "potential creep right here. thoughts?"

Responses include: "so did I," ("yep, let's ditch") or "no, it was a rubber hose, remember?" ("let's stick around a little longer")

It's a very intricate language that only expands over time

You guys actually have a lot of fun making and using it

And it's obviously quite useful

But in terms of jealousy, since Nya knows what it's like to be harassed, she knows it's not a challenge to one's loyalty

She totally trusts you, and expects you to feel the same

But sometimes when she just really doesn't like someone, she'll put a protective arm around you and make it obvious that you're hers

When they're finally gone, you guys either giggle about it or watch them leave with scowls; either way you make sure to check in on each other first

In general, though, you guys learn to have fun expelling unwarranted advances; it's almost like a fun little game you play together :]

Thank you for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[yanderes-galore]

Maybe a scenario of Javier escuella (rdr2) with Prompts 1, 22 by starbabytae?

Excited to see what other people request

^^

Ah yes, Javier engaging in his delusional little hobby. Here you go ^^

Prompts Here

Yandere! Javier Escuella Prompts 1 + 22

“I saw you last night, you looked beautiful.”

“I know it’s creepy, but I love watching you sleep. It’s peaceful, you know?”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Javier watches you sleep, Creepy behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence (Suffocation), Forced/Dubious relationship.

You had become his latest fixation on the nights he couldn't sleep.

Even when the stars are out and the fire dies down... Javier has found his mind wandering. Usually it's the typical worries, he sometimes wonders about his old home... or where the gang will end up next due to the Pinkertons. However...

He hasn't been kept up due to thinking of someone so deeply before.

It's wrong, he knows it's wrong... Yet Javier can't help it. During the day you have always provided him pleasant company. Even at night, when he's stressed in his tent, he thinks of you to ease the nerves.

The first time he did it... it was by accident. Your tent was fully covered and he kept glancing at you in your bedroll while he tuned his guitar. You looked so peaceful...

So calm....

Since then he had made it a ritual of his. When you went to bed at night he'd wait an hour or two before approaching. Once he did, he'd kneel by your side... maybe even move his own bed closer to yours just to have an excuse.

You could ask him about it, wanting to know why he moved. He grins and tells you not to worry about it. His tent is a bit... worn.

If it isn't he may just sabotage it to sell his excuse.

His touch is gentle when you sleep. He watches you nap with a small smile. He likes to lay beside you, gently touching your skin or holding you close when he can get away with it.

Javier had become... obsessed with this little tradition of his. You made him forget all of his problems... both at day and at night. He hates that you're unaware...

Yet he also can't seem to get rid of the habit.

Soon it escalates to not only when you're sleeping. He knows your nightly routine by heart. He watches your every move... would this make him a creep? Yes...

But he's done worse, maybe even for you.

Javier has always been careful when not getting caught. He had excuses and carefully planned responses. He's like an addict... willing to do anything to keep his addiction.

Unfortunately...

Javier should've known someone wouldn't stay quiet. Someone must've told you about his nightly behavior. After all, he was careful...!

Yet you woke up quickly one night to find Javier standing over you, eyes staring down at you like a hungry coyote.

You go to sleep, but Javier quickly shushes you and covers your mouth. You feel pinned to your bedroll as Javier uses his strength to hold you down. Desperation flashes in his eyes... along with irritation.

"Shhh... be quiet... it's okay... you know I don't mean any harm, love...." Javier whispers, trying to encourage you to stay quiet. "What I'm doing is harmless...."

You stare at him with wide eyes. It reminds him of a cornered deer, defenseless in his hands. It... makes him feel oddly giddy.

“I know it’s creepy, but I love watching you sleep. It’s... peaceful, you know?” Javier murmurs, as though he's embarrassed yet also trying to convince you it's okay. There's a long silence between you...

Only for you to struggle again, making Javier tighten his hold to hide his activities from the rest of the gang.

"C'mon... listen to me, dear!" Javier pleads, forcing your head down even as you try to nip him. “I-I saw you last night, you looked beautiful...”

You freeze when Javier hovers a hand around your neck, grip threatening to suffocate you. You stop struggling... causing Javier to sigh in relief. Afterwards he presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer.

"I couldn't help myself... the first time I saw you, you were adorable. You looked so calm... I said I wouldn't do it again... but..." Javier confesses, tilting your head up to look at him. "I couldn't look away... I didn't want to... You're my guilty pleasure, darling... So, please, don't push me away... You'll sleep better with me watching over you."

Javier's words are ignored by you as you try to pry his hands away. Javier frowns in response, hating you look so tense. He loves it when you're asleep... but you're too rowdy now...

He needs to fix this.

"... Sorry, darling... I'll see you in the morning and maybe we can talk about this..." Javier whispers...

Only for him to restrict your airflow.

You struggle, fight, and kick him... yet screaming is out of the question. You can't get enough air to breathe and struggling wastes what you have. You slowly begin to give in... letting the darkness reclaim you with a strangled noise.

Javier says nothing, eyes dark as he watches you drift into unconsciousness. Once you no longer fight, Javier slips beside your bedroll and holds you close. This is all he wanted...

Now he can continue to see your serene sleeping face... along with kissing your sleepy head...

Maybe he can convince you this was all a nightmare in the morning...?

[sturnzyolo]

Shadows

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, a little eerie scenery, crying, stress, bullying mention, comfort, anxiety, and slight obsession (anything else will be added in later parts)

slight summary/teaser: reader feels a significant connection to a particular classmate of hers, her teacher's favorite student. One day, when on her way home, she hears something.

⚠️ my first ever fic so don't hate if it's absolute shit although I take honors english + I will NOT be writing any smut, (sorry u horndoggaroonies) bc I believe my digital footprint is terrible as is, so. let's not add onto it!

(I hate having to copy and paste this everytime)

PART 2

Y/N POV

I was quite close to the principal, she knew how I was with Mr. Robinson, so she always excused me from whatever trouble he gave me. She was quite sweet and usually would just have a conversation with me before sending me back to class or to just roam around til I felt like heading back, which I appreciated from her.

This time I decided to just roam around the first floor hallways, my school was huge, but it was pretty old so honestly sometimes it felt a bit creepy.

I was even more creeped out when I heard a muffle cry from the boy bathroom, obviously I couldn't go in there, but I felt bad if I just completely left.

"Hello? Are you okay in there?" I asked softly outside the bathroom door with a quiet knock. I didn't want to startle whoever was in there, but I did want to check on them anyway.

I heard a trembled response, like they were rushing to fix themselves or choking up tears. "Uh yeah, I'm fine sorry" the voice said back in almost a stutter

I knew the voice, even just how he spoke and apologized, it had to be Matt. For some reason I always felt connected to Matt, in a weird way I always thought we would've been friends but I knew it probably wouldn't happen since he was honestly shy himself. The reason I even felt that way is because he reminded me of myself sometimes, although I'm a bit outgoing in school and always with people, I did have my downs at times and Matt reminded me of how I used to feel, and it made me want to help him.

"Matt? It's Y/N, are you sure you don't want to come out and talk about it?" I asked quietly behind the door so nobody around could pick up what I was saying. I probably looked crazy and weird being pent up against the boys' bathroom talking to whomever was behind the door.

I felt the door open slowly as I stepped back. "Hey, sorry I just felt anxious that's all" He said quietly as he looked down while he closed the door behind him. I could tell there was more behind what he was telling me, but I wasn't one to push boundaries, I mean he could barely even look at me.

"Can I do anything to help?" I asked as I took in any of his mannerisms and his appearance. I noticed his finger tips were red, his nails were messed up, it was evident that he bit them almost all the way down, but I wasn't going to bring it up incase of anything.

"No.. I'm fine really, just felt overwhelmed" It was very clear he was embarrassed by me finding him, and I felt bad it I continued to ask him anything.

"Okay, well I can walk back to class with you, if you want" I offered as my eyes traveled around his figure

"Yeah, okay, thank you y/n" Matt finally looked up, his eyes were slightly puffy, his eyes behind his glasses' lense were almost red from tears but his face was stained with them, I put my hands up to wipe them "May I?" I asked as I looked into his eyes for any kind of assurance or hesitance to my offer

(corny asf sorry guys 😔)

He responded in a slight nod, I carefully took my hands and placed them loosely on the sides of his cheeks. Matt wasn't too tall, about 5'8, which wasn't much taller than me, but enough for me to slightly be looking up towards him

(sorry to any tall girls reading)

my thumbs gently caressed his smooth skin as i wiped his damp tears away, my fingers swiping under the rim of his glasses. He seemed scared to even look at me, maybe even awkward to my touch, it made me feel a little bad for him, like nobody cared as much for him to give this attention.

I really could only name about 10 people I've ever seen hanging around Matt, and that counts his triplet brothers. I was glad he had them around, he seemed very cared and loved for by his family, but he wasn't really close to many others.

After I wiped his face dry from tears, I slightly tilted my head for us to walk back to class, which he understood as we walked side by side down the hall

PART 3 OUT NOW

I was previously planning for part 3's events to be added to this part but I wanted to edge u guys a lil 😋 but thank u for any and all of the support, I rlly appreciate it, love u guys sm 🤍

@mattsfavbitchhh @jamiesturniolo @jesscheesestring

[devilst0at]

yes!! more soft dale headcanons!! i like to indulge in him being intimidating sometimes but i also just want to hold him

ask and you shall receive, dear anon :)

as i’ve established in my last dale headcanons post, i really truly feel that he just needs love… oz perkins himself has said/suggested that dale is sad and feels like an outcast and is self conscious about who he is and other people’s reactions to him. nobody really responds positively to dale in his everyday life. he probably severely lacks any positive interactions or kindness from others in his day to day, and probably feels so lonely and sad all the time, so i think if someday someone just genuinely wanted to be around him and talk to him he wouldn’t even know what to do with himself.

i like to imagine our first interaction as running into him somewhere, maybe a craft/hardware store or small grocery store/gas station, and maybe that day he decides to actually wear his nice clothes like with his little pink vest and jacket instead of just some pajamas and slippers. usually people think he’s kinda creepy and weird and just ignore him, partially rightfully so because he is kinda strange, but personally i’d just be enamored by him. like as soon as i spotted him i’d be staring and drooling (even if he was just wearing pajamas). especially if i was working there (i’ve worked my fair share of retail/service jobs so i could def see it happening) and he came up to the counter i’d be immediately looking him up and down and just smiling at him like a fucking lovestruck idiot even though this guy is like 40 years older than me. maybe he’d try to do/say something weird cause it’s what he’s used to so he just kinda accepts it and even purposefully tries to creep people out, but oh that’s not happening with me.

whatever he says/does at that counter i’m giggling and smiling at him and saying he’s funny and asking his name and if he lives around here. for a second i think he’d just be silent and dumbfounded, his expression going eerily blank because that kind of reaction is so foreign to him. but after a second he might snap out of it and realize i’m actually being genuine and maybe even smile and breathily laugh a bit with his adorable little smile and even give me his name, and then suddenly i’m talking to him and there’s nobody else behind him at the counter and in his mind he’s just so dumbfounded that this person is being nice to him. i’ve already rung up his stuff but i’m still talking to him and smiling sheepishly and blushing and he’s slouching and fidgeting his hands on the counter trying to act as normal as possible (difficult for dale but i find it endearing).

maybe i even have the balls to say he’s pretty, in which case i think his brain would just full on short-circuit. like he’s stopping for a second with his mouth open and blinking and stuttering as i giggle and he’s just genuinely so confused why i would say that. if i get as far as to ask for his phone number (if he would have a phone, i mean there were cell phones in the 90s and he also could have his own house phone or something) or ask to see him after work he’s just nodding silently like an idiot and then going back into his car and sitting there with his hands on the wheel and a blank face for a good few minutes to wonder if that actually just happened.

if he actually let you go on a few dates with him and start hanging out with him regularly (people stare at you when you go out probably because you’re hanging out with this weird ass guy but you don’t give a fuck because you think he’s just gorgeous and perfect) he’s just so not used to being swooned and blushed over but you’re doing it constantly. if you somehow manage to go hang out with him in his basement and compliment his decor, ask him about the guitar, be amazed by his dolls/craft stuff and want to sit on his bed and look through his records or something he’s just so fucking dazed and stoked. he’s smiling and giggling and getting a little too close to you and maybe even acting kinda hesitant because he’s not. used to hanging out with someone. shift the focus from his cool stuff to just smile at him with adoration and run a hand up his arm, he’s freezing and clenching his hands and letting out a shaky breath cause oh my god you’re touching him. tell him he’s so pretty and that you really like him and ask if he’ll be your boyfriend or whatever and he’s probably gonna ask you why you would even want that, like he’s genuinely confused but flustered and blushing and trying not to breathe too heavily.

but once you manage to explain to him and get it through his skull that you actually like him, a lot, i think all that starved need for affection is gonna spill its way out whether he can help it or not, and all of a sudden he’s just a mess, smiling and whining and shaky sighing and reaching for you and trying to get in your space and hear how much you like him as much as possible. and maybe even trying to hold back tears and getting into that weepy tone of voice he gets into and squirming or rocking he’s so worked up. he wants to hear every thing you have to say and get reactions out of you and get real close to you and touch you anywhere, it’s been so long since he’s touched someone affectionately that he’s just gonna run his hands up your arms and neck and face and stomach just savoring the feeling and staring at you (maybe sorta creepily but if you’re anything like me you love it and think its cute), maybe just hold your face and smile at you and instead of pulling back with disgust or fear, you smile back with adoration and lean in. that in itself might make him cry, he’s just this weepy mess for you.

another thing i think about regularly is cuddling with him and listening to his voice real up close and just being so comforted and even lulled to sleep. i fucking love his more gentle tone of voice, specifically the way he speaks in the “i know you’re not afraid of a little bit of dark, because you are the dark” line, like if he talked to me like that while i laid my head on his chest and stroked my hair i would go ABSOLUTELY FERAL, not only would i be severely turned on but i’d just melt and swoon and my heart would be going so fast but i’d be so happy and relaxed at the same time. another great example is the part where he tells lee about him/ruth’s reaction to her going into the fbi, he’s so gentle and normal there i neeeeed to just listen to him talk sweetly to me god. in that scenario i might not even be able to resist lifting my head up and putting my hands in his hair and kissing him, and i think he’d be so happy to be kissed that he’d be gripping your clothes kinda forcefully and holding you really tightly as if he’s trying to trap you but it’s just because it’s so nice and he just wants to be close to you.

in conclusion dale kobble is a big weepy needy mess for affection and i will die on this hill

[dovesdreaming]

Randonauts Assemble: Logan, Wade, and the Scariest Night Ever

(Logan x reader)

Summary: Wade has the stupid idea of going randonaughting at night with the intention to see something ‘scary’. While you and Wade are left scared for your lives, Logan is left annoyed by the whole thing.

Request

Masterlist

-

It was supposed to be a chill night. A quiet evening at the X-Mansion, maybe some beers, maybe a movie, or better yet, a night where Logan didn’t have to deal with Wade Wilson’s endless stream of insanity. But that was before Wade burst into the mansion at 10 p.m. with his mask half-on, his phone in his hand, and Dogpool under his arm like a furry football. "Logan! Y/n! Prepare yourselves! We are going... randonauting!" Logan didn't even look up from his cigar. "What the hell's randonauting?" You, seated next to Logan on the couch, glanced between Wade and Logan. You had heard of it. Randonauting was this weird app that used random coordinates to send you to strange, sometimes creepy, places based on whatever "intention" you set. It was the latest social media trend, a mix of spooky adventure and internet oddness.

"We’re not doing that” Logan growled, his usual “I’m too old for this nonsense” look firmly in place. But Wade was relentless, as always. "Come on, Wolvie! Don’t you want to live a little? Have a little spooky fun?" Wade practically sang, leaning down and waving the phone in Logan’s face. "We can pick an intention! I’m thinking... scary or creepy because it’s dark, and it’s way more fun to do stuff that might involve ghosts or abandoned places or finding a cursed treasure!" You snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. The idea was ridiculous, but... also kind of fun. "It could be interesting, Logan”.

Logan turned to you, eyebrow raised. "You too?"

You shrugged. "Well, I mean... we don’t have anything else planned. Might as well".

Logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’m surrounded by idiots”. Wade, sensing victory, grinned so widely under his mask you could see the fabric stretch. "Yesss! And Dogpool’s coming too!" The small, mutated dog barked in approval, wiggling out of Wade’s grip to scamper across the floor. Logan stood up, his cigar clenched between his teeth. “Fine. But if this turns out to be as stupid as I think it is, I’m letting Wade get eaten by whatever creepy monster we run into”.

An hour later, you were all in Logan’s truck, winding down a dark, narrow road surrounded by dense woods. Wade was in the backseat, leaning between the front seats with his phone out like some kind of insane navigator, and Dogpool was perched on his lap. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this” you muttered, glancing at Logan, who was stoically staring at the road ahead like he’d been forced to endure worse than this in his long, long life. He probably had. But still. “Yeah, well,” Logan grunted, “you wanted to come”. “Are we there yet?” Wade sang from the back, shaking the phone. “Randonautica says we’re getting close! The coordinates are up ahead, and guess what? It’s taking us into the woods. Oooh, spooky!” Dogpool barked, as if in agreement with Wade's exaggerated excitement.

You, on the other hand, felt the nerves creeping in. It was one thing to laugh about this kind of stuff when you were safe at home. It was another to actually be driving toward an unknown, creepy location in the middle of nowhere at night. “Logan” you said, your voice a little quieter, “what if this place is actually dangerous? Like, what if it’s-“ “It’ll be fine” he cut you off, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Nothin’ out here we can’t handle”.

You relaxed a bit at his words, even though the thought of wandering through the woods still made your stomach flip. “Yeah, Y/n” Wade chimed in, leaning even closer so his masked face was right beside your ear. “What’s the worst that could happen? We get murdered by ghost lumberjacks? Ohhh, spooky axe-men, please don’t hurt us! We’re just innocent explorers!” He threw his arm dramatically over his forehead, almost knocking over Dogpool in the process. Logan shoved Wade’s face away with a growl. “Sit down”.

Finally, Wade’s phone chimed. “We’re here!” he announced, like some deranged tour guide. “It’s up ahead! Right through those creepy trees. Looks like… an abandoned building or something?” You squinted through the windshield, barely making out the shape of something large and dilapidated looming in the distance. It looked like an old school, or maybe a hospital. Definitely abandoned. Definitely creepy. “Of course it’s an abandoned building” Logan muttered as he killed the engine. “Because why wouldn’t it be?” The four of you trekked through the woods, the only light coming from Wade’s flashlight and the faint glow of your phone screen as you followed the coordinates. The building loomed ahead, its windows shattered, the structure itself looking like something straight out of a horror movie. Vines had grown up the sides, and the front doors were hanging off their hinges, creaking softly in the night breeze.

“I don’t like this” you whispered, instinctively moving closer to Logan. “This feels… too creepy”. Logan, unfazed, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you both approached the entrance. “It’s just a building. Ain’t nothin’ here to be scared of”. “Speak for yourself,” Wade muttered, holding Dogpool tighter as the little dog let out a low growl at the darkened interior of the building. “This place is way too on-the-nose for a horror movie. I bet there’s ghosts. And zombies. Probably zombie ghosts”. You gave Wade a look. “Those aren’t real”. He narrowed his eyes behind his mask. “Says you. I’ve seen some stuff, Y/n. Don’t come crying to me when we’re being chased by a ghost janitor with an axe”. “Both of you shut it” Logan grunted, pushing the door open with a loud creak.

The inside of the building was worse than the outside. Dark, damp, and filled with debris. The faint smell of mildew and rot filled the air, and the flicker of Wade’s flashlight cast long, eerie shadows along the walls. “Alright, split up and look for clues” Wade said, holding up Dogpool like a furry detective. “No one’s splittin’ up” Logan said sharply, keeping you close to him as the two of you started to walk down one of the darkened hallways. You held onto his arm tightly, every sound making your heart race. Logan, of course, was the picture of calm, as if this was just a normal stroll through a perfectly fine building.

Wade, on the other hand, was trying to act calm, but you could tell he was freaked out. He kept muttering under his breath, occasionally yelping when his flashlight flickered or when Dogpool barked at some random piece of debris. “This is fine. Everything’s fine” Wade said, his voice a little higher than usual. “I’ve been through way worse. I’ve fought aliens. I’ve fought, uh, time-traveling cyborgs. This is nothing. Totally not scary. At all”. You couldn’t help but smirk. “You scared, Wade?” “Pffft, no” he said, though the way he held Dogpool like a security blanket told a different story. “Just… keeping my guard up. Gotta protect the team, you know?” Logan rolled his eyes. “We’re leavin’ in five minutes. There’s nothin’ here”.

As if on cue, there was a loud bang from somewhere deeper in the building. You jumped, clinging to Logan’s arm even tighter. Wade let out a high-pitched yelp and nearly dropped Dogpool. “What the-was that a ghost?!” Wade shrieked. Logan sighed. “It’s just the wind”. You weren’t convinced. “That sounded a little too-”Another bang echoed through the building, followed by the unmistakable sound of something scraping along the floor. Wade’s eyes widened behind his mask. “Alright, that’s it! Time to go! I’m not gettin’ murdered by ghost janitors or demon hospital patients tonight, thank you very much”. You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, let’s leave”. Logan, to his credit, didn’t seem remotely phased. “You two are ridiculous” he muttered, though even he turned back toward the entrance, his arm still around you.

As you hurried back out into the safety of the woods, Wade was still mumbling to himself about haunted hospitals and vowing never to trust an app again. Logan just shook his head, pulling you closer as the two of you walked toward the truck. “Told you nothin’ scary would happen” he said.“Except that sound back there” you pointed out, still glancing over your shoulder. “Yeah, well” Logan shrugged, “could’ve been worse. Could’ve had to listen to Wade all night”. “Hey! I heard that!” Wade called, huffing as he cradled Dogpool protectively. “You’re all just mad because I brought adventure into your lives”. You and Logan just shared a look to say ‘sureee’.

You held onto Logan very tightly the rest of the night still freaked out about what you had heard, just glad you got out of there before something worse happened. In the next room over Wade clung onto dogpool saying calming things to the dog, who was already asleep, to calm his own racing heart. Maybe haunted houses are just too scary for superhero’s.

[richeeduvie]

the people yearn for lalo angst 🌀🌀🌀

TW: Dead!Reader, none of this is canon i think... - What If Series on AO3

Nacho hears noises in the kitchen. Clattering. He already knows it is. Who it has been for the past five months.

Lalo's only getting worse. Nacho doesn't just think it's grief getting deeper...the man's losing sanity. Not that there was a great deal there to begin with, but he's a fucking Salamanca, and he was the smartest of them. He could charm. Lie. Keep his desires of violence in his hands within his career. That's what made it so fucking hard to figure out a way to wrong him without death or punishment.

But Nacho never got to that point, not when he had you to protect. If he could call it that. He failed, right? And now that intelligent sociopath of a man who kept his rage and his lack of empathy for others in his eyes is gone...what's here is somehow something that he can't begin to figure out.

He knows it's Lalo in the kitchen. Most of the time, it's the man making food he's not going to eat. Nacho will wake up to see a plate of food where you used to sit. Sometimes he hears laughing, but not like Lalo's heard a joke, like there's something so tragic that you can't help but spiral under a laugh. It'd be fucking creepy if it didn't make Nacho's head fall into his hands.

The last time...Nacho found your husband on the floor, head leaning back against the oven as he touched himself, your blouse wrapped around...himself. When he made way to his room as quickly as fucking possible, he could hear Lalo saying your name. It was really the only time he said your actual name.

Not sweet girl. Not pretty girl. Not baby. Not Princesa, Princesa, Princesa. Although Nacho will press his head up against the wall when Lalo spends his nights in his room with Princesa, Princesa, Princesa on his tongue.

It's normal now, the way Lalo's been losing himself. It's the usual of this dark, empty house. But the clattering stops. Nothing comes after. Not laughing. Not moaning. Not grunting or rage with what is tears, and that is something Lalo will never admit.

It is silence. For the first time in months, that is the closest Lalo's actions have been the actions Nacho knows. It's familiar. Silence is like the dark of his eyes that you used to talk about.

Nacho gets up because something's not right. The light creeps on his face with the creak of the wood, turning the corner to press his feet into cold tile. You'd wear long socks when you felt they were too cold.

Nacho stills, arms at his sides. His brows go down with his eyes going wide...because what the fuck?

"Lalo, what are you doing?"

He says it softly, voice nearing the top of his throat. He edges closer with one foot, then another, and each step feels like a death sentence. But not for him.

Lalo's the one with the gun against his head.

"Hey."

His back faces Nacho, but he's sure there's that look of fucking nothing on his face.

"Lalo, put down the gun."

"...She didn't come to me today. At least...at least I get her voice some days but today? What could she possibly be doing in heaven without me?"

Some days are dragged out like Lalo's trying to be funny. Nacho swallows when he presses his temple further into the barrel of the gun.

"She must be so lost up there. Heaven's so big...and there's no one to take care of her. No one. I mean, there shouldn't be. That's why she should come down here instead, but I didn't see her, hear her. Feel her. I waited."

Lalo taps the gun against his head.

"I waited," Once. "Waited," Twice. "Waited." Three times. "She didn't come to me, and I guess I owe it to her to admit that I need her to come to me, yeah? You know how I felt waiting, Ignacio?"

"...No."

"Yeah. Yeah. No. I don't. I don't remember. But I don't think I liked the feeling, and I can fix it. I can fix the problems."

"This isn't the way."

"No. No--yeah, oh no. Yeah. You'd know, you'd know how to bring her back to me, right?"

Lalo's unpredictable like this, Nacho can tell the violence of him is swinging back and fourth, and maybe it's better not to say anything.

"...Where did pretty girl go? Do you know?"

Nacho closes his eyes.

"No, Lalo. I don't. Please, just put down their gun. Think of your kids, okay? She wouldn't want this for them. She wouldn't want this for you."

"Kids need their mama. I need their mama."

"Lalo." Nacho doesn't know what the fuck or say to do. You would, somehow. Without knowing what to say or do. You'd get Lalo to put the gun down and come back to bed, and Nacho hates it as much as he misses it. "Come on, man. Come on."

He's treating you like a ghost who's gone away. Every bit of sanity in Lalo was lost when you were.

Maybe, for the sake of all of them, it's better to let him pull the trigger.

"Papa?"

Everything still about Nacho falters at the call of a soft, toddler voice.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Papa? Uncle Nacho? What you doing?"

"...Bebita?"

Nacho looks down at his side to see one of your daughters at looking at her father.

She toddles over to him.

"Papa, I had picture of Mama in my head."

Lalo keeps himself silent when the little thing, just so fucking unaware, presses a hug around his leg.

Nacho doesn't imagine the face he wears at the moment. He still has the gun to his temple, even with his kid -- the one that looks so much like you.

"Picture?"

"Video. I was sleeping and she sing-ed to me."

Nacho doesn't know what the fuck could happen when it takes Lalo a full ten seconds to finally drop the gun. He sighs.

"A dream?"

And for the first time, without him "talking" to you, Nacho hears happiness in Lalo's voice.

"Yeah!"

"A dream! Ay," He turns around, face...blooming with a smile in the dark, and Nacho feels sick. He feels like asking you how to deal with this. "Of course! Mama's gotta take her days with you sometimes, no? Papa can't have all of her. Yeah."

Lalo bends down, taking your kid in his arms. His face presses into her little shoulder.

"Yeah. Of course Mama needs to visit bebita."

Lalo scratches his temple with the barrel of the gun.

"Just tell her to come and see me next time, okay?"

"Okay, Papa."

He gets up, and Nacho closes his eyes when he feels his hand on his shoulder. He knows Lalo's not looking at him. He's too busy pressing denial into the shoulder of his daughter.

He only opens his eyes when he feels them go.

It's only the worst thing to feel jealous of it. The delusion.

[vinylfoxbooks]

July 6 - Limb | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 1139 Part 3 of Medium James AU Previous Part | First Part

“I hate the ghosts in the Slytherin common room.” James hums, watching as the door to the Slytherin dungeon shuts behind Regulus. It’s not often that they go down there to pick Regulus up for one reason or another, but everytime they do, they get a peek into the common room -- dark, dreary, and absolutely haunted -- but this is the first time that they’re mentioning it to Regulus.

“Ghosts, plural? How many are there?”

James shrugs, “Dunno. I’ve seen three or four different ones but they all creep me out.”

“For any specific reason?” 

“They’re… I hate using ‘creepy’ for things like this but, they’re creepy. The way they move and look at people is off putting. One of them also has their limbs bent at wrong angles.”

Regulus balks at that, “What?”

“I don’t know what happened to them, and being honest, I don’t really want to find out.” James hums, guiding them down one of the hallways that leads towards the kitchen, “One of their feet looks like it's one backwards, there’s a bone sticking out of their elbow, and their other leg looks like it's hyperextended. It’s actually really disturbing.”

“Oh Merlin.” Regulus grimaces, “Do you see them everytime?”

“It’s like they’ve decided that their job is to guard the entrance to the dungeon. They stand by the door and glare at me whenever I look in. Or whenever I’m talking to your friends outside it. They’ve never left the common room either, so I think they just like it there.”

“That’s…”

“I don’t like it.” James shakes their head, “Something that my mum was always insistent on was that I don’t… discriminate, I guess, against ghosts by judging their appearance but I’m just put on edge when I see something like that, especially when they glare at me all the time.”

“I don’t blame you.” Regulus hums, “Where are we going?”

“To the kitchens, I want snacks and Remus asked that I grab him some chocolate puff pastries since I was coming down here anyway.”

“You can get things like that from the kitchens?”

James shrugs, “If you ask nicely. A lot of the house elves in the kitchen actually love cooking and offering us treats when you treat them right. They also let me cook sometimes when I’m missing home.” Regulus hums but doesn’t say anything else. James gets them into the kitchen by whispering something to one of the unassuming portraits in the hallway. They head inside and are greeted by one of the house elves. 

“Hello Coopey.” James smiles.

“What can Coopey get for Master Potter?”

“Do you have any welsh cakes that I can have?”

Coopey seemingly takes a moment to think before he shakes his head, “Coopey doesn’t but he will make some for Master.”

“If it’s not trouble.”

“Never! Anything else for Master Potter?”

“Remus was wanting some chocolate puffs, if you don’t mind.” Then they turn to Regulus, “Did you want something?”

Regulus shakes his head, “I’ll just have some of your welsh cakes.” 

James nods then looks back at Coopey, “That’s all, thank you.” Then the house elf is bounding off further into the kitchens, and they sit down on some stools by the entrance.

“Thank you.” Regulus murmurs.

“Hm? For what?” James tilts their head.

“Being nice to the house elves. They’re so often mistreated, it’s nice to see someone actually care about them and treat them right.”

“Of course, I mean… they deserve to be treated kindly, especially since they’re doing things for us in our everyday lives.” “Do you have house elves at home?”

“No, my mum grew up in a muggle household and loves taking care of the house herself. We keep our house and make food the muggle way because we like it.”

“I’m sure that was weird for Sirius.”

James snorts, “He’s still not allowed in our kitchen from when he almost burned it down the first time he tried to make himself food.” 

“I’d expect nothing less from him.” Regulus shakes his head, smiling at the thought of his brother, “He was always dependent on our house elf, though he didn’t treat him very well.”

“Kreacher, right?” James asks, shocking Regulus.

“Yeah… how did you know that?”

James hums, looking off into where Coopey had disappeared, “Sirius has mentioned him a couple times, never talked about him fondly but he’s said his name a couple times, and that you always really liked him.”

Regulus nods, “He was one of the only people that I could confide in when it came to the house, even more so when Sirius started distancing himself from me, he was the only one that was kind to me. That’s… it’s part of the reason that I haven’t taken you up on your offer to leave. I don’t want to leave Kreacher alone in that house.”

“I see.” James hums, opening their mouth to say more, but they don’t get the chance to before Coopey is showing back up with a basket in his hands.

“Here, Master Potter.” The house elf says, offering the basket to James, who takes it gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Coopey, these smell amazing.”

“Of course! Now shoo, shoo!” He scolds, starting to push the two of them out of the kitchens.

James laughs, “Alright, we’re going. Have a good night, Coopey.” And with that, James is guiding Regulus out of the kitchens. The painting slams shut behind them and James jerks their chin, “They don’t like us staying in their space longer than we need to.”

“Most house elves don’t. They like their room to do their work, or so Kreacher has told me.”

“To be fair, my mum also shoves people out of the kitchen when she’s cooking and we’re just standing around,” James laughs, opening the door to the empty classroom that they’ve started to use, “You’d like her a lot. I think she’d like you, too.” Regulus swallows, not wanting to let on how much their words get to him. Nervous as he might be about meeting the Potters, some of the stories that both Sirius and James have told him have almost created a sense of yearning. 

“Maybe I’ll try to come over for Christmas break.”

“That’d be great.” James smiles, and Regulus swears that it genuinely lights up the entire room, “We’d love to have you.” 

“I’ll…” Regulus clears his throat, having to look away from James, blindly reaching for one of the welsh cakes that James has in the basket Coopey gave them, “I’ll try to convince them to let me stay at the castle over winter hols, then I can go with you and Sirius.” 

“I’d love that.” Regulus absolutely prays to whoever is listening that James isn’t able to see the way his cheeks have tinged with what is likely bright red.

Next part

[cringycrisis]

I been wondering how Evil billy and evil Nugget interact with each other

If you awnserd it already then i am sorry

No worries! I don't think I ever showed how Billy and Nugget interact in the evil!au? (yet) Nugget loves Billy very much! He pretty much worships him like a god and would do anything for him like the Pretty Lily! That's how much he loves him! So he watches him from a distance sometimes, it's to make sure that the annoying "Kid" isn't going to take him or the Pretty Lily away from him!

Billy however... Finds him annoying and creepy to say the least. Often referring to him as a "creep", "freak" or "stalker" (if you ask me, that is a bit of a hypocritical thing to say coming from Billy) If he had the option to send the little creep to the center of the sun, you bet he'd make sure of it! Luckily for Nugget, the only reason why Billy hasn't done anything to permanently get rid of him is because he sees the potential usefulness that can come from Nugget, so he'll tolerate him sometimes. (I mean, who could resist having a willing slave- I mean, friend- do your dirty work for you?)

Even if he knows he'll regret it later...

[cleolinda]

I grew up in a haunted house and I didn’t notice

This is not a story about boo ghosts or shadow people. If it were, I would have figured it out, at least.

When I say "I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice," you have to understand that there was a lot going on with this house. It's not the house that I've written about currently living in, the one with newspaper and soda cans stuffed where insulation should have been, the one with constant home-repair calamities. No, my childhood home was a crumbling pile of red brick built in the 1920s. Narnia was in the backyard, and the back deck was my ship on the high seas. The house was surrounded by banks of flowers, lilies and irises and roses, and it was full of creepy shit I didn’t even blink at. I loved it.

It didn't look haunted, or even particularly historical. It was almost disappointingly normal—I lived on a street with a house that had a turret, for God's sake. No, it was just old and small. There's a lot of pre-Depression houses getting torn down in these suburbs; my town has been awash in construction for the last 20-30 years as people buy up cheap old houses, raze them, and squeeze mini-mansions onto their tiny lots, all to get their kids into a good school system. It gives me a chill to think of it, but yeah, that might happen to my childhood home someday, small and plain and unassuming as it is. My pirate ship has already been renovated into an extra bedroom, the new owners told us.

When we moved into the house in 1983, though—it had clearly been renovated in the '60s or '70s; the wallpaper was hideous, and the upstairs bathroom was carpeted. Shag-carpeted. The house had closets the size of shoeboxes; my bedroom, the one with the peach wallpaper, didn't even have one. The room down the hall had four, including one cut into the wall, under a slanted ceiling tucked beneath the roof, that looked like you'd stash a witch there when the Salem HOA came by. There was a fan in the attic—well, first of all, the attic was just one more room on that upstairs floor. It was directly across from the (carpeted) bathroom, and that room (lit by one ominous, hanging bulb) was just a short corridor with storage spaces on either side, hidden behind big sliding doors. And the fan at the very end was built into the brick outer wall of the house. Like our house was functionally open to the elements, between the blades of that fan. I have no idea what the fuck anyone was thinking when they built that, and how the fuck anyone kept the wildlife out.

We certainly couldn't. Squirrels lived in the roof and bowled with acorns. It was like listening to a pinball machine at night. I have an abject horror of cockroaches because sometimes an adventurous one would fall off the ceiling in the middle night, onto me, while I was trying to sleep. (Like, try to imagine that—you’re awakened from a dead sleep by a vague, paper-light skittering sensation up and down your arm. When Pennywise comes to me, he will show up as a cockroach.) But wait! There was more! We had herds of crickets in the basement that felt compelled to jump at people. Sometimes there were centipedes! Those were polite enough to only come out at night. In the dark.

By the way, that basement was totally unfinished. I don't mean that it just had exposed beams or concrete walls. I mean that the basement had uneven, mostly shoulder-high masonry walls, and then it was just open on three sides, extending under the rest of the house. Like just dry red Alabama earth and rocks and grainy dust tumbling around in this vast, dark—it wasn't even a crawl space, a child could have stood upright in it. This child? Oh fuck no. And the washer and dryer were down there. I had to creep down there, down a rickety plank staircase, past the staring dark caverns of my own basement, through a low-lying fog of aggressive crickets, go BEHIND THE STAIRCASE, and then do my laundry there. There was also a firewood pile by an old fridge, and only God knew what was under that.

None of this was haunted. All of this was completely normal to me. This isn't even the haunted part.

So let's go back upstairs. The ground floor was lovely, homey, fine except for the time the living room ceiling fell out due to water damage. Upstairs was where it got weird. I've talked about being mildly bullied as an unknowingly autistic child; home was where I felt safe. In my bedroom upstairs, I had all those My Little Ponies and my easel with all my crayon-drawn fantasy maps and all the stories I wrote. It didn't matter if roaches fell on me in the deeps of the night; home, that's where I was happy. So when I was a young kid and I felt like a vampire was following me down the hall at night, I assumed I was just being silly.

I was aware of vampires in the 1980s as, like, the Count on Sesame Street (ah ah aaah), and Count Chocula, and Count Duckula on Nickelodeon, and the Bunnicula books that I loved. As a kid, I wasn't aware of movies like The Lost Boys or Near Dark, or any vampires that weren't broad caricatures of the Bela Lugosi look. I loved Spooky Stuff—I'm from the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark generation—but vampires didn't scare me.

But when I had to get up in the middle of the night to go down the hall to the (carpeted) bathroom, I always had the sensation that something was following me as I was going back to my room. Something Dark. Not terribly tall, maybe not even much taller than me. And somehow, I visualized this deep in my mind as a vampire. Kind of a silly one, you know, the white-tie formal wear and the ribbon medal and the cape. I wasn't desperately scared that a Chocula was behind me, but I knew that I needed to get back to my room quick, and, at all costs, I must never look back. I must never look over my shoulder or else I would See It, something silly massing in the dark—and, brother, Eurydice would have been safe with me. Never stop running, never look back.

And I'm sure all kinds of kids develop little superstitions like this. It's probably a developmental thing, like having an imaginary friend (which I also had at some point). Even as a seven year old, I was thinking, This is silly, I'm just making it up (but not looking back costs nothing. Not looking at monsters is free). And I continued to think this, until I laughingly told my younger sister this at Sunday Family Dinner one night. We were both in our thirties at that point. And my sister started crying. Like just staring at me in wide-eyed horror, her eyes filling with tears. And she told me that when she had a bedroom upstairs, there was Something in there.

I won't belabor the exact setup, but at one point, we got it into our heads that we'd like to switch bedrooms, just for a change. I was 14, and I moved to her ground floor bedroom with the flowered white wallpaper and the big bright windows, and she went upstairs and took my room with the peach wallpaper and the cool slanted roof-ceiling (and no closet).

There were three other rooms on that upper floor (and I promise you this is important):

1) One was a small, windowless room that we used as a playroom, with weird cerulean blue carpet and sky blue wallpaper, one dim light fixture, and a little door in the wall that led to dark nothing. Like, you opened it, and you were confronted by a mass of pipes and machinery and just enough space to edge leftwards in the dark. Towards what? Fuck if I know, I sure as hell wasn't going in there. I think it was supposed to be for access to the HVAC system. I don't know. It was fucked. But when I was a young child, I had cooked for my baby dolls at our plastic play kitchen right next to that door, nbd, because apparently you put me in a creepy situation and I just go, yeah, we live like this now.

(I had not ever felt alone in that playroom, but I had also been too young to articulate that. Of course I wasn’t alone! I was with my dolls!)

2) The next room was the (shag-carpeted) bathroom. It had a big mirror over the sink counter, very typical, facing a vertical mirror that was behind the bathroom door. I've heard two mirrors facing each other can create a portal for the spirits, if you believe in that kind of thing. I once did the "Bloody Mary" thing there and nothing happened, idk.

3) The next room was the bedroom with four closets, where an older family member lived with us, and when she moved out, my sister moved to that room.

?) The fourth room, not really a room, was the dark, narrow attic.

So, Grownup Family Dinner at my current house, a few years ago: my sister told me that Something had lived in the Four Closets Bedroom with her. I'm not sure if she actually said it lived in the little Hide A Witch closet or if it was just kind of... ambient. I don't know what it looked like, or if we're talking about ghosts or Something... Darker, or what. I don't think she's entirely sure herself. She doesn't like to talk about it in detail a whole lot. What I know is that she felt it was there, and she had chosen that room to sleep in as a young teenager, and not a lot of sleep was to be had.

"I never really sensed anything, like… demonic," I said, puzzled. "Just the Chocula that followed me." And my sister was like, ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF??

"What about Rebecca??" she sputtered.

Oh, yeah: Rebecca. (A name I've changed at my sister's request.) I had a friend as a teenager who liked to mess around with ouija boards (AM I LISTENING TO MYSELF?), and we did a session at her house one time wherein we discovered that the ghost of a girl? young woman? named Rebecca lived (so to speak) at my house, and she had been murdered by her boyfriend. How we arrived at these specifics, I don’t remember, but I had told my sister about it because I thought it was interesting, and also, I was kind of a shit. My friend also decided she had her own ghost named Dusty. It was all one big [citation needed, footage not found], but it was also part of our family lore.

So, many years later, my sister told me that she had long felt—without knowing about the Chocula—that there were two spirits on the upper floor of our childhood home: the dark one, and a younger, lighter one. I sat there at the kitchen table and thought about it.

"You know, I did kind of feel like there was someone up there, when I was a kid," I said. "Sometimes I would go into the attic, and it felt scary, but like there was something there watching that was okay? Like having a lamp on in a dark room, kind of. It’s weird, because it’s just a feeling, I remember it very clearly, but I didn’t really question it or wonder."

I thought a bit more.

"Oh yeah—there was also the time I just really felt compelled to go color in the playroom by myself at midnight, and it kind of felt like someone was there."

My sister stared at me, saucer-eyed, pale. Like I'm not sure I had ever seen anyone "go white" until that moment.

"Yeah, I just woke up and had this idea—I was maybe nine years old? That it would be super cool to do stuff at night when I was supposed to be asleep, so I got a flashlight and went into the playroom—"

"IN THE DARK??"

"Well, yeah. If I had turned on the light, someone would have seen it and told me to go back to bed. So I set this flashlight on the floor and got out the crayons and colored in one of my coloring books a while. Maybe the She-Ra one?"

Thinking back on it now—of course I was sitting right by the scary door. I think we all, you and I, saw that coming.

"And I had the same feeling I had in the attic. Like someone was sitting on the floor across from me, friendly, I guess I would say female, and it was cool. Like, it was chill."

My sister looked like she was about to pass out.

"I don’t really know how I could sense this then but not really say anything about it, or even think about it, until now," I said, shrugging. "I’m probably imagining it."

I’ll throw in here that one of the dolls I had in that room was a Raggedy Ann. Like, just for extra hilarity, Wee Cleo is hanging out, coloring, at midnight, with a ghost and a fuckin’ Annabelle.

So: My sister is adamant that our childhood home was haunted. And apparently I was entirely blasé about it (maybe possessed?), but then, I was dealing with a lot of suburban wildlife. My problems with that house were far more immediate. And crawly. Nor can we prove that the house was haunted—I certainly haven’t looked up any homicide records—and I don’t think that Vibes, In Retrospect, are valid evidence on my part. But I find it interesting that I knew what she was talking about. I find it interesting that I was like, "Yeah, that was chill." And I find it interesting that when I went away to college, and I lived in a dorm suite where sometimes I’d be the only person there while my roommates were out,

I remember noticing that it was the first time I’d ever felt alone in a room.

Who was that imaginary friend I'd had?

--

I asked my sister to read over this, partly because I wanted to see if she’d be willing to describe the Something Dark.

"Oh, I’ll tell you anything you want," she texted back, "but that’s not how it happened."

[the-s1lly-corner]

A bit of a specific idea, but I had a platonic idea for all of the characters in the Amazing Digital Circus—

Maybe all of them with a Wally Darling-like Reader? An example of such being Reader also speaking in a monotone voice that is both a little unsettling yet friendly at the same time, always making eye contact and never looking away, being able to eat things by blinking, being a lot more aware than they seem, greeting people individually anytime they enter a room, etc etc.

TADC cast x wally darling type! Reader !

Still stuck on mobile so this post may be a little short and whacky <\3 + I'll be relying on this ask for wallys personality since I cant open other tabs without risking deleting my progress on this <\3 + I've never touched welcome home 😭😭

CAINE:

Honestly, I don't know anything about welcome home as stated above, but I think Caine would have a lot of the same habits; namely the eye contact and I can also see him doing the blink eating...

The only difference is that hes way high energy

I think he would think that you're just a silly lil fella, an interesting little thang, wants to study you under a microscope..

Thinks its endearing how you greet everyone personally.. loves when you do it to him since it makes him feel special n appreciated

POMNI:

Overall pomni is going to need a lot of time to get used to the weirdness of the circus, and this applies to getting over the unnerving feeling she gets around you

Probably becomes speechless and does the face when you blink-eat

You know...

Just stares at where the food item once was... how did you do that...? What are you going to consume next? Why are you looking her in the eye like that?

..oh you're just telling her you enjoyed the snack you've brought

JAX:

As per usual I'm writing these all out of order, and I happen to be writing jax after I did zooble

I think jax wouldnt just think you're unsettling, I think he would think you're creepy

Now does he think you're a threat? Personally I don't think he would go as far as to classify you as such

Watches in horror as you blink and consume his sour gummy candies

Okay now this is war

You guys sometimes have unspoken staring contests, you usually tend to win them

Actually now that he thinks about it you dont seem to blink outside of eating...

RAGATHA:

"Oh, you're just a quirky lil fella!" Pretty much

Always thanks you when you greet her, she makes it a habit to greet you back when you enter a room

Tends to give you your favorite snacks, I think, but I think this can pass as a general hc rather than being specific to this post !

Little put off by the eye contact but does not turn away or show any discomfort; is able to push through it pretty well !

KINGER:

Okay so I know I mentioned some other characters being creeped out by the eye contact but I think kinger would be the most put off, asides gangle

But also I can totally see kinger having a staring problem; be it because hes lost in his thought and happens to be staring or some other thing

Accidental staring contests between you two/j

Feels like a real king when you personally greet him, probably bows a little and does a lil gesture with his hands before returning the greeting

Similar reaction as pomni when you blink-eat

Where did the food go??????

ZOOBLE:

I must admit, I think zooble would find you creepy, too <\3, or at least a little unsettling.. like sure they wont be mean to you unlike SOMEONE but they're a little put off by your odd behaviors

Though they would get accustomed to it in time, I think, especially since I have a whole "zooble ultimately doesnt care much about what's going as a means to cope w/ the digital circus as well as that just being their personality"

Does not like the eye contact, though; zooble seems like the type who wouldnt like eye contact... maybe I'm self projecting, though...

The eye contact definitely is what fed into the unsettling factor for them..

GANGLE:

The eye contact makes her so so nervous, she doesnt really have eyes the same way everyone else does but it still... makes her feel off

Similar to Caine she does feel nice when you greet her.. yes she knows out do it for everyone, but that doesnt dismiss the nice feeling she gets that someone is. Well being nice to her...

Shed like your voice, I think, oddly soothing and it's not too bold and out there.. not overwhelming, you know?

Not many ideas for gangle today <\3

[dissociativedollcherry]

HI could I have a SMG3 x reader who is always smiling even when they are angry. Actually if reader would be angry they would be like "☺️💢" y'know?

So if you don't feel comfortable it's fine!

୨୧ BREAK A NECK ✮⋆˙

SMG3 X READER WHO ALWAYS SMILE

A/N: Ooo i like this one, i was a bit off because of the meds i took, so if i find something wrong when im better ill edit it😊👍🏼

Type: Romantic, fluff, headcanons

Triggers:some vague mentions of neglecting your own feelings but thats it.

Song recommendation: Break a neck

୨୧ First of all: he found your demeanor a bit creepy when he first met you, like how your always smiling is something that not much people could do, and the people who did it are either psychopaths or have some type of disability who keeps them from doing any other type of expressions.

୨୧ So when he met you he first thought there was something wrong with you but when he found out you were actually doing that on your own, he was creeped out a bit but tried to just ignore it.

୨୧ Smg3 would get extra close to you after some time when he saw you were very pleasant and cool to be around even with your creepy smile, he liked being around you after some time<3

୨୧ However, he doesnt really like to see you mad because you go all "😁💢" like a sociopath and he wouldnt like to fuck around and find out what you may be able to do to others since your reaction when mad is already creepy itself.

୨୧ But taking that aside, he actually appreciates your abilities to stay smiling all the time, its impressing, although, it does worry him sometimes because that can also mean that you are neglecting your feelings, he's not therapist but he does know that doing that is not healthy.

୨୧ If you do neglect your feelings, he would not be happy and would try to help you stop smilling some times, key word: try, he would not be like, 100% professional on it since he is not really used to comforting someone.

୨୧ He lowkey would find it strange if you stopped smiling at some point, like he got so used to you always smiling that if you actually stopped smiling Smg3 is going to be all like: "are you sick?! are you really you?!" and etc.

୨୧ If someone criticizes or make fun of your behavior, Smg3 would kick their ass for you, you wouldnt have to move a finger to get rid of them, dont worry, he got your back<3

୨୧ Would call you "smiley" or some shit like that, it would be either to tease you a bit or to genuinely have something to call you, either way, hes having fun with it.