#after all of this i can safely say i hate him just as much as trump

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 47

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 44, part 45, part 46

The days pass by in a blur. Each day, the calendar marks a day closer to the fourth. Closer to the day that haunts him. The day that marks his mistake. His harmless curiosity that was so far from that, harmless. It was harmful. Where he dragged two people who didn’t need to know the secrets of Hawkins into his mess. And one person who jumps in front of danger like it can’t hurt him back into it again.

Dustin was fated to this life. When Will went missing, there was no question about it. He would always be involved in this. But Steve, Robin, Erica, they didn’t deserve to be dragged down with him.

There’s a letter on his desk from Susie, currently thriving at Camp Nowhere. Angry at him for breaking his promised return. Deciding to stay here instead of going back and spending time with her. He gave her the excuse he could, that something happened, and he couldn’t go. There was too much he needed to do here. People he couldn’t leave.

He couldn’t tell her why. She was far enough away that she never needed to know about this. Finally, Dustin could keep someone safe. Ignorant. Innocent. She didn’t have to know the darkest part of his life. He loved that for her.

It didn’t feel good, to keep a secret from her. But it was necessary.

The doorbell rings. Dustin stares at the ceiling for a few moments, hoping they’ll just go away. But the bell persists. Whoever is there pressing the button so fast, it doesn’t even stop ringing before getting cut off and starting over again.

Dustin groans. Standing and going to the door.

“Finally,” Max complains when she pushes herself through the door, Lucas following after her. “What took you so long?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t think anyone was coming over today.” The annoyance is clear in his tone.

Really, he didn’t want to do anything today. His bed was so comfortable when he woke up this morning, he barely wanted to leave it. Eyes fixed to the ceiling when they weren’t closed, feigning sleep. Body feeling weighed down. Impossible to move.

Max wheels herself into his living room, transferring to the couch. Clear that she isn’t leaving. Lucas looks at Dustin expectantly. Like he’s waiting for him to move.

Moving takes too much energy. All he wants to do is lie back down.

“We brought a movie,” Lucas finally says. “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

“I thought Max hated that movie.”

“I’m open to changing my opinion,” She calls out from the couch.

Lucas continues to look at him, with that worry sitting in his eyes. He’s trying to hide it, but fails. Dustin hates that look. He doesn’t deserve it. He can take care of himself, he has for this long. They didn’t need to do it for him.

His face must give away something he doesn’t realize, because Lucas nods and goes to put the movie in before Dustin can protest. Gesturing for him to sit on the couch next to Max. Refusing to start play, or God forbid sit down, before Dustin complies.

Like he’s waiting for Dustin to protest enough he’ll have to do something.

Dustin doesn’t give him a chance. Huffing out a breath before sitting on the middle of the couch. Only then does Lucas sit down next to him. Finding the remote on the coffee table and pressing play.

The opening credits roll, and Dustin forgets when the last time he’s watched this movie. It was one of his favorites since it came out. Replaying it so much he wore a hole into the VHS. It’s probably since then, he figures. Not having replaced it yet.

But the scenes play just as he remembers them. Like a comforting hug. Familiar warmth fills him, he didn’t realize how cold he was.

For some reason, he doesn’t know, tears start to form in his eyes. As the last scene of the movie ends, they start to roll down his cheeks.

He doesn’t hide it well; Max’s arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug. Her head leaning on his shoulder. Lucas mirrors her in his own way.

It hits him all at once why they’re here. With the movie he’s loved for years. Days away from one of the worst days of Dustin’s life. Of their lives. He hears Max sniffle. Hears Lucas’ breath hitch. They were all suffering from this in their own way, but they still showed up for him. They knew he needed this, even if he didn’t know that himself.

The sob breaks out of his chest without permission. Shaking his lungs. Their arms tightened around him.

“I’m sorry,” falls out of his mouth with a cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“I am too,” Lucas whispers.

Max sniffles again. “Me too.”

They sit there until the air calms. A light weight lifting off of Dustin’s chest. Letting him breathe just a little easier now.

He clears his throat, getting rid of the residual sobs. “Why are you guys sorry?”

Lucas shifts, pulling away from their hug. “Last summer, when you came back from camp, we were all wrapped up in our own shit. We didn’t know what you found, what you were doing. If we had just stayed on that hill longer, you wouldn’t have been the only one who heard the message. We could have gone through it together.”

Dustin was glad that they left him on the hill that day, in hindsight. That way it was just the four of them in that bunker. Less people to lose. But he’s right. It was the first time Dustin went through something completely without them. The core group. It was just him, Steve, a girl he barely knew, and a child who didn’t need to be brought into this.

“You’ve been really quiet lately,” Max whispers, sitting back upright. “I’ve noticed you pulling away, but I didn’t do anything about it. I should have made sure you were ok. So you didn’t isolate like I did. I should have let you know that I was here for you, no matter what. That you could talk to me.”

He didn’t realize he was pulling away. Or being quiet. Now that she says it, he knows what she means. The conversations he missed while sitting in the middle of them. The want to just lie down and stay there. Nothing even playing in the background. Just silence.

“We’re worried about you, dude.” The concern in Lucas’ voice is ripe. “We wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Dustin’s not ok. Not right now. Physically, he’s fine. But mentally, he’s all over the place. Flashbacks come in waves, nightmares keeping him from sleep that’s worth anything. He’s more terrified now than he was the entirety of that week. No adrenaline to mask the fear this time.

“How much has Erica told you about the bunker?” he asks, voice hollow.

“All of it. What she knew, anyway. I can’t imagine what it was like to be there.”

“It was awful.” Dustin’s never said that out loud before. After it happened, they all wanted to get away from it as fast as they could. They barely talked about it. There were other things to focus on. “I don’t even know what really happened to Steve and Robin. They never told me, but I could guess.”

“We’re making plans to get together that night,” Max says. “So we can be together for the fireworks.”

“I think that would be a really good idea.”

I feel odd posting this today, and I debated waiting until tomorrow to post it. But, this chapter I'm writing is giving me a lot of comfort, in a weird way. Seeing the community these guys have support each other, it reminds me of my friends, and we do the same. It is almost therapeutic to know that I am not alone in so many way. How, even in the darkest of times, there are people out there that love me, and we can walk through this together. I hope this brings you some much needed comfort, as it did to me.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[razorblade180]

Inspiration

Ruby:Yo-yo?

Carmine:Hmm?

Ruby:Ren told me you paid a visit to him for some training. Said you did pretty good.

Carmine:Not really. Stances were okay but aura manipulation is weird. Probably won’t rely on it too much.

Ruby:Seems like you’re drawing inspiration from everyone you can. If that the case, I have something for you.

The reapers reveals a long weapon’s case. She puts in the ground in front of her daughter and taps it with her foot, causing it to open up. Two curved blades lay brightly inside. Their detail is so intricate in the engravings and design. It’s obvious they’re meant to combine. Carmine picks them up to find they have little heft to them but are drastically lighter than her own sword. She might as well be holding nothing.

Carmine:Wow, these are crazy looking. Not necessarily my style but I can see how they could be useful.

Ruby:They’re what Cinder uses.

Carmine:…….What? How did y-

Ruby:These are replicas I made and trust me when I say they’re identical. If you put them together then it can fire arrows.

Carmine:Why would you ever make these?

Ruby:Because, my little huntress, I can be as petty and spiteful as anyone else when pushed far enough. Use these on patrol and missions for the next month; study them well. Utility, movement, reach, all that you can.

Carmine:“Know thy enemy” right? I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting this from you considering our differing views on how to handle the situation.

Ruby:I made a vow to you the day you were born that I will be a mom before a huntress when it came to making sure my family was safe. I still plan on finding and taking out Cinder myself, but if for some reason you find her first or she finds you, then by all means, give her every layer of hell you can.

Carmine:I don’t suppose you’ve made me a parasol blade too?

Ruby:If only that’s all it took to learn Neo’s moves. I mean this, just avoid her. She’s at least a three person job and two of them need to hate her.

Carmine:Heh, okay then. Mind if we go a few rounds then?

Ruby:…It’s better if you ask Ren?

Carmine:C’mon. I know you don’t like training me but-

Ruby:No, it not that. I just…I might go too hard if you’re using those.

Carmine:So? Honestly you’d be doing me a favor. Everyone always talks about how intense you can get, all the stories of your passion and hardcore moments. I don’t get to see that. I actually feel weird for never seeing you angry. I get angry all the time!

Ruby:Sweetie, what kind of a parent would I be if I took out repressed rage on my child in a sparring match?

Carmine:…Better than Raven. Better than your mom too.

Ruby:!? Wha-

Carmine:I think you’re pretty cool, despite everything that’s happened. We always try to our feelings out but honestly it never really works well. I get you’re trying to be an example, but it’s okay if normal being a mom doesn’t come as naturally as a huntress. Mix both. I don’t care. I kinda need both. I mean if I can survive you then Cinder would be easier by comparison. Plus…it’s not like I could stop myself from swinging at you seriously either.

Ruby:Did you..are you saying I piss you off?

Carmine:You’re my mom. Every daughter gets pissed at their mom.

Ruby:That’s not…inaccurate. Sigh Are we really doing this?

Carmine:Are my eyes silver? *points blade out* Well, Mrs. Hero? Show me why Cinder is too chicken face you head on!

Ruby:Fine, but name a restaurant first. You may think I prefer being huntsman 24/7 but I’d like to have some regular quality time with my daughter after this.

Carmine:Hmmm, how about your home cooking?

Ruby:…*smiles* Deal.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Who You Are - Wade Wilson x platonic!Reader

A/N: So, I don’t really have a reason for writing this, other than I’ve seen some pretty unkind discourse lately about trans boys and men. And it hurts sometimes, you know? So I wrote this as much for me as I wrote this for anyone else who needs it

I wrote this with a teenage!Reader in mind. If anyone wants a version with an adult!Reader, let me know bc I’m more than happy to help spread more appreciation and positivity

Written for an ftm!Reader

The warnings for this one are a little vague, so let me know if I missed anything, please!

CW: lying, crying, Wade and Logan are dating in this, Logan is not quite Reader’s parent but it’s close, insecurity, emotional hurt/comfort, online hatred and discourse, hugging, Wade calls Reader ��little prince’, soft ending, this one made me cry so be warned

553 words

“Logan?” You hesitantly knock on his door, peeking into his room. There’s a muffled grunt and a groan and then footsteps.

“Hey, little prince. What’re you doing awake?” It’s Wade, all bleary-eyed and yawning.

You hug your arms across your chest, looking down. “… No reason…”

He sees through your lie in a moment. He steps out of the room and gently shuts the door, crouching down to your level. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He gives you a little nudge, soft and lightly playful. “Did your period come early?”

You crack a smile, but it quickly fades. “No, I, um…”

You falter. You’ve only known Wade for a short amount of time; he hasn’t been Logan’s boyfriend for very long. But you’ve always had a good feeling about him. And he’s been accepting of you so far. So maybe… he can be trusted.

You take a deep breath and immediately hate the tears that prick at your eyes. “I just— I saw something online and it just—“

He doesn’t say anything. He just wraps you in a hug. You cling to him, trying so hard to not cry. It’s a futile effort, though. The tears come anyway.

“It’s just—“ you sniffle. “I’m… not a bad person, right? For not being a girl?”

Wade stiffens for a moment, then pulls back. “Of course not! Little prince, you’re not a bad person at all! Who said that?”

You shake your head. “I see it online sometimes. People hating on boys like me because we’re not girls. And it just—“ Your voice gets quiet. “It hurts sometimes.”

Wade’s expression changes rapidly. Anger, outrage, determination, and finally, something softer. “You’re perfect the way you are, little prince. If he were awake, Wolvie would say the same thing. Don’t listen to what those others are saying. You’re not bad or wrong or anything for being who you are.”

The tears come harder. You bury your face against his shoulder and cry. You cry until his sleeve is tear-stained and snotty, until all your tears dry up and your breathing turns to hiccups.

Wade gently rubs your back, letting you sob. He whispers quiet assurances, promising you that you are loved by him and Logan and everyone who truly knows you. It helps. More than you thought it would.

It feels cathartic, in a way. You’ve been stressing and hurting over other people’s words for so long, it feels relieving to hear some words of comfort.

After a long while, you pull back and rub at your salt-burned eyes. “Thank you.”

Wade gives you a smile. “Anytime, little prince. You’re always safe with me. No matter who says what, you’re perfect as you are.”

You manage a watery smile back. Your heart feels warm. Weak from the crying, but warm from his words.

Wade pats your shoulder. “Come on. You can snuggle with Wolvie and me. I’ll tell you a story or something.”

Your smile widens, still small but genuine. You follow him into the bedroom, taking a big deep breath. Logan loves you the way you are. Wade loves you the way you are.

There’s still lingering hurt in your chest, but it’s smoothing out. You have people in your life who appreciate who you are, really truly.

And that means more than anything anyone else could say.

[danikamariewrites]

Happy Spooky Season! I was wondering if I could request a platonic Rowan looking out for Aelin's teen sister? I feel like he'd be a strict, but protective big brother by insisting on dropping her off at places, like the theatre, picking her up again, accompanying her into Orynth, guarding her during balls (if he's busy then assigning his former cadre to do it for him), etc. And she gets annoyed by it, until his behaviour comes in clutch one day when he spots her in some kind of sticky situation and helps her out.

Big Brother

Rowaelin x little sister!reader

Warnings: short but sweet

When Rowan first came into your and Aelin’s life you were very annoyed by him

He was always in your business and annoying you

But you annoyed him so things were even

You didn’t trust Rowan at first. Hell you didn’t trust anyone around your older sister, especially someone you could see her falling for

Aelin told you about Chaol and you hated him. Who was he to say that you and your sister were monsters?

After Maeve and Erawan you worked out your differences with Chaol and Dorain

Speaking of Dorian, you had a massive crush on him but Rowan shut that down real quick

He also shut down your crush on Petrah Blueblood, “one person in this group being with a witch is enough.” Rowan had scolded. You just stuck your tongue out at him and stomped off to your room

Aelin and Rowan were like your surrogate parents

Your big sister had looked after you all your life

Aelin was your protector and made sure you never had to train to be what she was, but enough to fight and cause the most harm to someone who was trying to hurt you

You were a feral child around Arobynn because you always got bad vibes from him. You also hated the way he looked at your sister

Aelin did baby you, she still does and so does Rowan, but she never hid the truth from you

Once Terrasen was rebuilt, as princess, you started to get involved with the community. Your main focus being schools and the public library

When not attending his kingly duties Rowan was escorting you from event to event, making sure you stayed safe

“Ro, there has never been an attempt. I don’t need a babysitter, I can handle myself.” Rowan raised a silver brow at you. “There hasn’t been one because I’m good at my job, little sister.” The darkness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and made you think about your security detail and how protected you and your kingdom are

During special events if Rowan can’t watch you like a hawk one of the Cadre is assigned to you

Fenrys is for low risk events; putting the two of you together is beyond chaotic. You two are the ultimate sibling duo and you always have fun with Fenrys. He absolutely sees you a little sister and loves having you as a companion especially after Connall

Lorcan is for high risk outings; Lorcan is scary dog privilege. He stares down anyone who even breathes in your direction. Lorcan stands faithfully by your side, arms crossed and weapons on display, for hours on end. As much as you would like to mess with him, you actually behave when Lorcan is around. You know if he’s escorting you it’s serious

Gavriel is just back up; He’s your uncle! Of course he’s more than happy to drop everything to be with his niece. Plus he spoils you to make up for years lost out on family time

As much as you find Rowan’s presence annoying at times there finally came a day where you were thankful for his protection

Heading out to a speaking engagement at the primary school you were trying to find any Cadre members to escort you instead of two security guards

Rowan has your schedule, so he should’ve been free. But alas, the buzzard was stuck in meetings with your sister

Uncle Gav was out doing you have no idea what, Lorcan was home with Elide, and Fenrys was away with Vaughn, who you still haven’t actually laid eyes on by the way

You opted to take two of your normal guards to escort you

But without Rowan to walk them through security protocols you were walking around without knowing about any threats

Everything was going smooth. You made it to the school, your talk with the children went very well! They loved to hear stories from you about the Queen and King. They loved to play with you and tell you anything that pops into their little heads

It wasn’t until you were on the way back to the castle that trouble found you

Your carriage was stopped abruptly, the horses neighing and rearing up on their hind legs at the danger in the middle of the road

“Stay here, princess!” Your guards shout, leaving you alone closed in the carriage. You weren’t afraid at first. Not until you heard shouting and fighting. You couldn’t hear much. The men who stopped you were a small group. They wanted revenge on Aelin for killing Dorian’s father. Who know loyalists to the former King of Adarlan were around

Before things could escalate further a flash of white light had you shielding your eyes as you peer out the window, the men thudding against the ground

“Take them to the prison!” You had never been so relieved to hear Rowan’s voice. You stayed locked in the carriage until he came and got you

When Rowan opens the door you fling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him neck. “I have never been so grateful for you not minding your business.” Your brother laughs, hugging you back. “Let’s get you home, Aelin has been worried.”

[ancha-aus]

No one escapes a writer's trauma beam :3

I am putting stuff together by subject don't mind me :3

It makes sense though! For Killer to have such an unhealthy relationship with Chara and to worship him. To Killer this was normal. it was always the same. Chara saved him. chara showed him freedom (which wasn't truly freedom) and showed him how to be himself (he never was himself) and it was better than before. so obviously this is it? isn't it? this is how it is suposed to be. this is happiness. this is freedom. Becuase it is better than before. (even a golden cage is still a cage)

but it started to eat at him. he started to see the difference. because chara never came to him. at first he can fool himself that is was trust but... chara did always say that killer would be hopeless without him. that killer is a dum-dum.

killer just needs to know for sure. see that his friend will come for him. then everything will be right! So he waits. and waits. and waits. But Nobody Came.

And 100% with nightmare. Ngihtamre and chara are at some points very alike. Nightmare just. didn't expect Killer to be this trauma filled and pretty much TRAINED to listen. Nightmare remembers killer speaking out against him. That is whay nightmare liked. that and the fact tha tkiller didn't hate him. To him it wouldn't make sense for Killer to be loyal becaus eloyalty was beaten into him. Killer spoke out against him before? What would stop him from doing it again?

but as time goes by. and probably because nightmare is close with ccino. Nightmare realises that if he wants killer to be his full knight. to be able to trust him fully. Ngihtamre NEEDS to trust him. Nightmare needs to take that step. he needs to show killer that he is trusted.

It is why he tells him everything after the mask ceremony. Becuase the mask Killer earned. And Nightmare wnats to give it to him. But it is only fair to Killer. To tell him everything before Killer fully commits. If killer can't handle this... then he can leave. he may keep the mask. he earned it much like the party thrown in his honour. but his choice is his to make. After learning the full truth.

I think that near the start Killer would almost take comfort in knowing nim and nightmare are related. it is easy for him to use that to fall into old patterns. to see it like 'see? it makes sense i am here na dfollow and trust him...' it is only after he got a lot of meals and rest and was able to just be between his training sessions... that he had time to think. to wonder. to really think back.

Killer also... sees the difference though. as his own slight worship fades again. that the servants don't worship him (ccino ESPECIALLY doens't worship nightmare) no one speaks of him as a god. he has godlike pwers yes. but he isn't a god. and nightmare never calls himself a god. he calls himself king. and that is what he keeps it as.

Killer sees that nightmare isn't worshipped. and no one is punished for not doing this. it makes him able to breka a bit away from the whole religion aspect of it all and focus more on real things. on the rpesent and the now and how it affects him.

and yeah. The more that i think about it... Killer probably at first had a bit of a celeberty crush on ccino. or like a kid liking their babysitter or soemthing. Just. a more worship/devotion kinda crush than an IN love crush.

And it is SAFE. because he knows ccino is out of reach. it makes ccino ironically a safe place for him to think about. because Killer knows it will never ever happen. Ccino will never ask these things of him because he is professional. It is a safe area to think and wonder about. think about what he would like and what would make him happy.

(more on this in my scheming so don't worry about it.)

but yeah! it is the time on his own where he just is able to act silly. to try things. to pet a cat and cry when the cats snuggle him. how he decides, for himself, that he will never ever hurt another cat ever again.

All of these little bits. they make killer killer.

because killer? he never had a chance to BE himself. To even figure out who he was. He always had to be a specific thing.

and it takes him a while but eventually killer figures out that while being a knight is a big deal. it doens't make killer killer. it is just a job. a job that killer eventually realises... tha the likes. a lot. killer likes being trusted. he likes to be able to trust the poeple he works with. to be able to defend and know they have his back.

and later.

When nightmare trusts him. When nightmare just has to be reminded he doens't need to be afriad?

That after nightmare was changed and just needed a reminder. needed someone to pull him out of his panic? and then killer was trusted again. Killer is so happy. that is his little brother. because nightmare picked killer out himself and killer is so happy he decided to stay.

As for what made killer stay? the simple fact he didn't know what else to do. He could leave. sure. but what then? go back to doing the same as before? the thing that chara wanted him to do? that would jsut bedoing somethign that someone wants him to do. the same as staying here. and heere he doesn't need to steal food or water. Here he can sleep in and gets special training.

He stays because it is a good deal... and then as he slowly forms his own personality and character... well... Killer is happy he tested chara. because he ended up being saved by nightmare.

(another part that sells it? nightmare never specifally acts as if killer needs to repay him. Nightmare wants himt o try for this job but it is his choice. killer took it. and is not letting go anymroe)

Okay. So Killer (New Age) lore post! Putting it immediately under the cut, because I get the feeling this will be longer-

Killer! He's the first one Nightmare takes in! He's the 'Average' one. The silver-tongued common street rat, literally snatched away from the gallows. He's obnoxiously loyal.

His story is going to be (hopefully) loosely based on his canon, but still follow a lot of the New Age conventions.

So, Killer was a straight up orphan. Like, abandoned as a babybones on the steps of a temple. Temples would often double as orphanages, if you dropped a kid at the right one. (Killer had a malformed soul from birth. Didn't affect him at all, just looked weird.) So Killer? He was raised religious, basically. Worshipping the deity which was most prominent at the time (which for this era, Nim was largely the one being worshipped as though a god. Like Rome worshipping the Emperor), a very strict environment, a very lonely one as there weren't many other kids, and a fairly violent upbringing. The people there were Not proper caretakers. But it was all Killer had, and running away never crossed his mind, because beyond the market, there was nothing for him that the temple couldn't give. At least, that's what he was taught. Until, of course, he met Chara (just going by the normal ut name tho I do think they're called the Player in Something New?). (Note: Killer had a different name before he left the temple.)

Killer was only 11 or 12 (he didn't really keep track) when Chara started coming with their parents to the Temple. Their parents would ditch them to talk to the adults, and Chara would try to find other things to do, to get out of their parents sight, and one day they spotted the Orphans. Killer in particular (the oldest) was their target, about their same age. And they would talk to him. At first he was hesitant, but, you know how it goes, kids are kids and they'll talk.

And over the course of several visits, Chara told Killer about the outside world. All the places and the animals (Killer told Chara that the sacrafices were all animals, very unique) and the ocean, they told him about the mountains and the towns and ships and the guard and all of it. And it got to Killer. He started wanting to go beyond the walls of the temple (he always had, but never had reason to understand that urge).

One night, Chara showed up at the temple grounds after dark, while Killer was doing his final cleaning checks, and they encouraged him to leave. to run away with them. And... well, he did. He stole a cloak from the doorway and ran off with Chara. While they were on the run, Chara from their parents and Killer from his temple, they had to do what all street-rats did. Steal, cheat, and protect themselves. Killer was the first of them to kill. it wasn't much different from sacrificing the animals on the altar, anyhow. It was just another way to get what he wanted, since the god, Nim, never had any answers to his prayers. The person he killed had recognized his name, other sects were after him now that he'd run with Chara (unbeknownst to him, Chara was meant to be a sacrifice once they were old enough). He changed his name to the skill he was good at: Killer.

And they stay like that for a long long time, never settling down, always on the move, never leaving the kingdom because doing so would make it easier to find them, two red marbles in a sea of blue ones. And Chara never got their hands dirty. it was always Killer. it was his duty to back-up Chara. he 'owed' them for getting him out of that Temple. Out of that boring life. Chara, in some way, became the center of his world, something beyond his grasp and beyond poor judgement. Beyond the flaws of any living being. And they were fine. They still did normal teenage things, they laughed, they joked, they played, they lied, they got sweet treats and split big loaves of bread. But it wasn't healthy. A parasitic relationship where Chara took and Killer gave, weighed down by an impossible debt to repay.

Then, years and years later, Killer was finally taken down by the guard. Now wanted for several counts of murder, theft, and other bad things, he was caught. This time, unlike several others, instead of breaking out like he normally did, h decided to wait and see. How long would he have to be gone for Chara to seek him out instead? And Chara left him. And left him. And didn't ever come back for him. Gone, fully, 100%. His faith broke, along with his hope. The one thing that motivated him in life had abandoned him, and he couldn't seem to bring himself to do anything anymore, because he had sacrificed all he was and wasn't enough to keep his only friend around.

In prison he talked with other people. Prisoners aren't all bad, you know, especially when they saw Killer, a young guy, looking so downtrodden. Even though he was an objectively horrible person, hearing others try to cheer him up, expecting nothing in return, was helpful.

And then, ofc, when he met Nightmare he decided he could have a ticket out of here. A weird guy who would give him a place to stay, and pay him, and he could just go and then escape like he always did? Go live his own life for the first time ever? Yeah, sounds banger.

But then, you know, he ended up finding Nightmare's situation much too interesting, and Ccino way too handsome, and his gig just a bit too cushy. But he never had blind faith again. Nightmare is unaware, but that fake faith act Killer started with quickly morphed into a faith earned through action, and care, and kindness. Killer saw and felt that Night would be willing to risk himself just as much as Killer would. (Maybe that's why he became so loyal. maybe that's why it's important that Killer came first and set that expectation for the other Knights. Maybe that's why Killer faced off against Dream and almost died, and why Nightmare ran infront of Killer to spare him that final blow and proved exactly why Killer followed him in the firstplace-)

[a-shadowedvales]

when jane's powers return in season four (and because they were regained by her confronting and accepting her past, rather than being retraumatised with it!) they're stronger than they ever were. when she starts getting a handle back on them, she very quickly comes to realise not only have they affected her, but her mother, too. one of the biggest losses that came about with her losing them was the fact that she could no longer visit terry in the void; while there was no real communication there, it did allow jane to sit with her, and gain a little more connection than she could in the real world. when she first visits the void after their return, it takes her three hours to find terry, something that is both unexpected and incredibly worrying. but when she does, it's something of a miracle. jane's increased strength and control over the void actually wakes terry up from her catatonic state, but only in the void. there's no way to help her mother physically, but she does do so (unbeknownst to her) mentally. terry is reborn in jane's newfound control over the vale of shadows; she becomes the woman she once was, and while her body remains frozen in a "good dream", her mind connected to jane's own allows her some freedom. jane is able to speak to her mother in the void, is able to be held by her, and while it's still unfair and jane cannot stay in there forever, it's something. this only lasts for about eight months, as each visit slowly begins deteriorating terry's physical and mental state, and jane's health begins declining after spending hours upon hours in the void each and every day.

when jane finds out these visits are actually killing her mother on the outside, she deems to stop, but terry expresses the importance of them being able to speak, that she'd prefer to die on the outside, if it meant she could have just a few months with her daughter like this. terry and jane's connection was always so strong, which ultimately led to terry "waking up" in the void, but even jane's newfound strength cannot save her from the harsh realities. each visit nearing the end of those eight months, terry fades more and more, becomes weaker in the void, and her real body eventually gives up. jane's in the void when her mother eventually passes on, and physically feels their connection weaken, like some part of her suddenly becomes lost in the shadows, a part she'll never find again. jane falls into a depressive state for weeks after her mother's death, given she's technically lost her a second time, but soon comes to realise she was lucky to have even shared those eight months together. it was better than nothing at all. there is a proper burial and funeral, (and when jane dies, she's buried next to her mother) which allows jane some sense of closure. she never fully recovers from losing terry, nor from the fact that she never had a proper relationship with her, but she does eventually find some peace with it all.

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[nomairuins]

have i ever related to any other characters ... who remembered

[swagging-back-to]

i doubt he will care. it isnt like hes asked permission or approval when sending billions of dollars in weaponry and funding over the past few months

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[sugurizz]

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬 ✧ Feat. JJK MEN

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ── Jjk Men in their -real- Daddy era. (Am I secretly having a baby fever LMAOO)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ── fluffy stuff, pure wholesomeness and affectionate dads.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

It's safe to say that sometimes you're raising two babies - only one of them is a big buff pouty one.

Daddy Toji sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, leaving you both sleeping in your shared bedroom and then slowly closes the door. He promised himself he'd only take one *unnoticeable* spoon of your newborn's baby formula but ends up stuffing his face with the forbidden powder in the heat of the moment. He tries his best to hide his tracks by shoving the tin somewhere far in the cupboard.

He *oddly* always makes sure to be the one preparing his baby's bottle the next day - 'Oh darling, don'tcha move a muscle...I'll be right back with our baby's breakfast!'

You smile and raise a brow, already suspecting something. Daddy Toji is not much of a morning person. much less when it comes to baby chores...

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Gojo is always there whenever you change your baby's diaper. He keeps laughing and giggling like a 6 year old, curiously learning from his baby momma how to take care of his little child. His sky blue eyes are staring at your skilled hands, handling your precious little one with infinte care. He keeps smiling in awe, chuckling every time your baby farts and making the funniest faces just to make them giggle.

He takes a million pictures of his baby every day; we're talking his whole camera roll is just his baby's face, cutesy hands, tiny feet, smiling, eating, sleeping on daddy's chest, drooling on his shoulder...the list never ends.

His baby looks so smol when he holds it in his huge hands. He has to bend all the way down just so he could pick them up cause obviously my dude is the tallest man ever.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

He'd take full care of your newborn just to see you rest and relax. He told you to teach him everything he needs to know so that he'd be perfectly fit for his new -and best ever- occupation; your baby father. He's got however only one pet peeve; getting his little one to burp after feeding them.

The reason? He was doing it once, holding the baby while gently patting its back...until he suddenly felt a warm liquid slithering down his shirt - the expensive one you dearly gifted him on your wedding anniversary- and to his surprise it was none other than his little one's vomit dripping down his shoulder...

Now he makes sure you hold a napkin behind him whenever he does it.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨

He's by far the chillest Daddy EVER. Carries his little one whenever he goes. Gets super jealous when your baby starts calling for you, or wants you to hold them instead of him. He's determined to make them say 'daddy' first, but deep down knows it'd melt his heart when he sees the little version of him utter mommy's name for the first time.

Staying awake at night putting his baby to sleep just so you can get your full nightly rest is something he'd never miss out on. He hates seeing you tired or sleepy and puts both of your needs before anything else.

Daddy Geto is always calm and smiley, no matter how much mess his baby makes or how long it'd take for him to clean it up - sometimes makes you seriously wonder how he manages to be so damn chill all the time.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

For a husband twice your size with four arms and eyes he sure should take most care of your little offspring - He does tbf - His baby is always laying somewhere on his body or at least near him; sleeping against his chest, nibbling on his thumb, drooling on the side of his shoulder or sitting on his huge lap.

He's got a 6th sense whenever it comes to his baby being hungry, thirsty, sleepy or needing anything at all. Instantly knows the reason why his little one is crying and most of the time is very quick to make them happy again.

Absolutely hates poopie smell and calls them a brat whenever he senses their diaper getting heavier. 'Aggh you little runt!' You can't help laughing at him getting overwhelmed with such a tiny thing and start teasing him over it.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚

There's nothing that Yuuta loves more than children. He has always wanted to have kids and couldn't wait to create his very first and own one with you. He's in LOVE with seeing you taking care of them; almost admiring every move and every word you say. He smiles like an idiot whenever he sees you holding your baby, breastfeeding them, playing with them or even laying next to them.

His favorite game is to hide somewhere in the house and let his little one look for him. He does it so suddenly and quickly, leaving them puzzled with big round eyes - comes out of his hideaway when they start sobbing and laughs at their little red nose and pouty cheeks.

'Aww why is my little cupcake cryiiing?...Daddy's right here!'

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[suni-writings]

Stop hating me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it

“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”

“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.

Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.

“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?

“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”

As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.

“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”

Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.

“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”

Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.

“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”

She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.

“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”

She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.

“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”

She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.

She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.

“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”

“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.

“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.

“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.

Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.

“Who do you think, princess?”

After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.

The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”

Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.

“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”

She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.

“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.

“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.

Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.

“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.

“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.

His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.

“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”

She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.

And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?

He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.

“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”

When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.

After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.

As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.

Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.

Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.

He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.

“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”

“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.

He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.

When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.

“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.

“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”

It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.

“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”

[chaotic-birds]

1-800-red-hoods-gas-station-attendant-service

Your boyfriend's not fond of you pumping your own gas at night, so he insists you don't do it alone.

🩹 G/AUs: fluff, est. relt. 🩹 TW: reader (f) is called beautiful, pretty, princess, baby, doll (i love nicknames okay leave me alone 😭), mentions of blood and fighting 🩹 WC: 1.5k 🩹 A/N: Inspired by this reel (sfw). Just a little fun and easy read 💗 enjoy!

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

masterlist

Ever since Jason caught a group of people trying to rob someone at the gas station a week ago, he’s insisted you not get gas alone—especially at night.

Your arguments fall on deaf ears. He’s put his foot down and covered it in cement. There’s nothing you can say to make Jason change his mind.

“Hey, beau”—grunts—”tiful. Need somethin’?” Jason asks after the fourth ring.

You can faintly hear the sound of fists hitting skin in the background.

“You busy, handsome?” you wonder, eyes glancing at the low fuel light glaring at you. You already know his answer and the real answer before he speaks.

“Nope,” he answers followed by more grunting. “You home from your ladies' night?”

Upon seeing a gas station in the distance, you signal to take the highway's exit ramp.

“Not yet. I called because I’m low on gas and need to get some to make it home. I figured calling you while I pumped—”

“Where are you?” he asks instead, voice slightly strained.

“Near upper west side.”

“Come to the diamond district, and I’ll meet you there.”

You pull into an empty pump station.

“I’m already at a gas station, Jay. Just—”

“It’s not safe.”

“You’re tracking my location and you can hear—”

“It’s not safe to use your phone while getting gas too,” he continues to interrupt.

You heave a sigh and lean back into your seat, unable to stop your eyes from checking your locks. Although you’ve always been weary of pumping gas at night, you try not to be too paranoid. You hate being on edge all the time.

“Please, doll?” he pleads, breathing heavier.

There are curses in the background that don’t sound like Jason. His attackers must not like him much.

“Alright, but hurry. My light’s on,” you say. You sit straighter and shift gears to leave.

“I’m on my way now. Hey, Red Ro—”

The line cuts off, but you figure Jason’s recruiting Tim to take care of his loose ends. You feel bad for taking Jason away from his work, but you don’t want him to be upset with you for getting gas by yourself. He’s not fun when he’s grumpy.

Jason’s sitting comfortably on his motorcycle when you turn into the station.

When he sees your car, he stands and waves. You know there’s a grin behind his helmet.

The gas station is empty except for the convenience store worker. He looks at the vigilante suspiciously from inside.

You park at the station he’s at, turn off the car, and pull the lever that opens the gas tank. You climb out and smile at him, holding your card in one hand.

“Hi there, cutie. You come here often?” you tease.

He chuckles and swiftly pays for the gas before you can. You give him a disapproving look that he ignores.

“Only for you, princess,” he replies.

You put your card away as he takes the pump and untwists the tank’s cap.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, feeling guilty again. You figured he’d come and watch the area, not actually pump your gas for you.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You can sit back down and jus’ look pretty for me, baby.”

“That makes me sound like a spoiled brat,” you huff but do as you’re told, keeping the door open so you can converse.

Jason leans against your car as he fills your tank.

“Well, you’re only half right. You are spoiled, but that’s the way I like it.”

You shake your head at his reply, but there’s a smile on your face. Truthfully, it’s a little nice to not have to worry about anything—to just let Jason care for you.

Your eyes scan his tall form, taking in his armored-covered body and shiny helmet. You notice a few dark spots on his gloves and clothes that you figure are blood.

“It’s a little funny seeing the Red Hood pump my gas,” you quip as you grin at him.

“What can I say? I’m here to help the citizens of Gotham in any way,” he jokes.

“You have a busy night?” you ask, recalling the phone call from earlier.

“Nothin’ too extreme,” he replies.

When your tank is full, he returns the pump and twists the cap back on.

He moves in front of you, resting one hand on the car’s top while he leans down.

“If it weren’t for that goober watching us like a hawk, I’d give you a kiss,” he says.

“Only a kiss? I’d pull you in the back seat and have some fun,” you say with a flirty smile.

He laughs and lowers his head more. You’re so tempted to kiss him.

“We’ll have fun at home,” he says.

“You’re coming back with me?” you ask, eyes opening wider with hope.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, princess. I still need to go help Tim. I’ll be back soon though.”

“Define soon,” you reply with a slight pout.

Jason drops in a squat so he can take your hands; the act is hidden by your door.

“An hour or two?” he says. “But don’t wait up. It could be longer.”

You nod solemnly.

Jason squeezes your hands, thumbs rubbing your skin tenderly.

“Text me when you get home, ‘kay?” he asks.

“Okay,” you say.

Jason releases your hands to rub your thighs.

“Thank you for calling me,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want my boyfriend upset with me,” you huff halfheartedly.

Jason squeezes your legs.

“Just want ya safe, doll.”

“I know,” you sigh and place your hands over his.

“I better get going,” he says and reluctantly begins to pull away.

You grab his hands to hold him close.

“Ya know, you might as well just kiss me. I think the worker knows you’re not just here to pump a random Gothamite’s gas.”

Jason chuckles and takes a peek at the window. The worker still looks on, but now with a confused face. When he notices Jason staring, he averts his gaze. Though, Jason knows it won’t last long.

“Fine,” he relents and leans down.

You grin, reaching out to cup his helmet as you kiss the cool material. Of course, it’s not the same as feeling his lips on yours, but the sentiment is felt.

“Love you,” you murmur as you pull away and drop your hands.

Jason sighs longingly. “Love you too, beautiful. See you at home.”

“See you,” you reply.

Jason ends up following you for a while for extra precaution before heading back to his patrol shift. He doesn’t come home for another three hours.

When he does, you’re on the brink of sleep. Still, you turn in his arms so you can snuggle your face against his chest.

“Missed you,” you mumble.

His chest vibrates as he laughs. “You saw me a few hours ago.”

“And what ‘bout it, Todd?” you huff.

He pulls you even closer and rests his head against yours. His body feels so nice. You wish you could stay in his arms for days.

“Nothin’, doll. I missed ya too,” he says in a deep, tired voice.

“Hmph! Thought so,” you reply and carefully lift your head to give him a triumphant smile.

Jason releases an amused puff of air.

“Get some sleep, silly,” he says.

“Kiss first,” you demand, puckering your lips dramatically.

Jason grins and angles his face to give you a tender smooch.

Your lips spread in a grin upon feeling him directly.

When he goes to pull away, you whine in protest and chase after him. You capture his mouth again before he can get too far.

Jason laughs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. His hands trail up your sides to cup your face. His warmth spreads from your cheeks to your heart.

There’s a dopey, sleepy smile on your face when you pull away.

“God, I love you,” Jason says with the utmost sincerity that squeezes your heart.

“Not as much as I love you,” you sing-song, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles and moves his hands back to your sides. He slides them under your shirt to feel you directly.

Instead of arguing, you lean down to kiss him once more.

“You’re comfy,” you mumble.

He can’t stop the happiness that shows on his face at your words. He gently eases you down by pressing lightly on your upper back and says, “Good. I like you like this.” 

He adjusts his head against his pillow and closes his eyes, arms holding your body to his like a teddy bear.

“I like being here,” you reply and lay your head on his chest. You love hearing the rhythm of his heart.

You feel him give your head a kiss before he gets settled. It’s not long before his breathing gets steadier, and his arms lax slightly around your body. As you join him in dreamland, you realize you’ll never feel safer than in his arms. 

A/N: I have this for my other blog, so I wanted to share it here too: For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[blushpawss]

period cramps

warning: fluff — soft!sylus taking care of you during your 1st day of period 🩷

main acc: @sushiyuzu

the cramps hit hard, making you double over in bed, clutching at your lower abdomen as the pain radiated through you. you’d tried everything—heating pads, painkillers, lying in every position you could think of—but nothing seemed to ease the discomfort. it was one of those days where your period felt like a heavy weight on your body, and no matter how hard you tried to push through it, you just felt drained.

sylus had been in the other room, giving you space, but it wasn’t long before you heard the soft padding of his feet as he came to check on you. you were curled up on your side, wrapped in blankets, but your face must have given away how much pain you were in.

he sat down on the edge of the bed, his crimson eyes filled with concern. “still bad?” he asked softly.

you nodded, unable to muster the energy to say much. the cramps had you feeling so weak that even answering felt like a chore. instead, you just closed your eyes and tried to breathe through it.

sylus didn’t push for more. instead, he slipped off his shoes and settled himself next to you, his large body filling the space on the bed. without a word, he placed his warm hand on your lower back, rubbing slow circles that were so gentle, you could almost melt into the touch.

“let me help,” he whispered, his voice soothing.

you sighed, grateful for his presence. the way he rubbed your back felt like he was trying to massage the pain away, his hand firm but careful. “it’s just really bad today,” you finally murmured, your voice strained. “nothing’s helping.”

sylus frowned, a flash of frustration passing through his eyes. “i hate seeing you like this,” he admitted, his silver hair falling into his face as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “i wish i could take it all away.”

you felt the weight of his words in the warmth of his touch. he always hated seeing you in pain, especially when there was nothing he could do to fix it. but even in moments like this, when all he could offer was comfort, he did it with so much care that it almost made the pain more bearable.

he stood up briefly, disappearing into the bathroom before returning with a fresh heating pad. he carefully placed it against your lower stomach, adjusting it until it was in the perfect spot. the warmth immediately began to soothe the cramps, at least a little.

“here,” he said softly, sitting back down beside you. “try this.”

you gave him a weak smile, grateful for the gesture. “you’re spoiling me,” you mumbled.

“you deserve it, sweetie,” he replied without hesitation. “especially when you’re feeling like this.”

he lay down beside you again, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, pulling you close against his chest. his body was warm, solid, and the way he held you made you feel safe, like nothing else mattered but making sure you were okay.

“you know,” he said after a few moments of silence, “i read that massaging certain spots can help with cramps.”

you raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him through tired eyes. “did you really?”

he smirked, his crimson eyes twinkling with amusement. “i did. i looked it up earlier.”

“i can’t believe you looked that up,” you muttered, feeling a soft laugh escape your lips despite the pain.

“i’ll do whatever it takes,” he said with a shrug, then started gently kneading your lower back in slow, steady motions. “is this okay?”

you let out a long breath, feeling the tension in your muscles begin to ease under his touch. “yeah,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “that’s perfect.”

his hands worked magic, applying just enough pressure to relax your aching muscles without causing more discomfort. he was slow, deliberate, as if every touch was meant to ease your pain, and you could feel yourself starting to relax under his care.

“just let me take care of you, sweetie,” he murmured softly, his voice low and comforting. “you don’t have to do anything right now. just rest.”

you didn’t argue. the combination of the heating pad and sylus’ gentle massage was starting to lull you into a peaceful state, your body finally beginning to loosen up after hours of tension. the pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp, dulled by the warmth of his hands and the feeling of him beside you.

he shifted slightly, pulling you closer so that your head rested against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a calming rhythm that made you feel more grounded. “i’ll stay right here,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you smiled faintly, your hand resting lightly on his chest as you snuggled into him. “i’m lucky to have you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“no,” sylus replied softly, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “i’m the lucky one.”

the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside forgotten as he held you close. the pain might not have gone away completely, but having sylus there, his warmth, his touch, made it so much easier to bear.

“just rest,” he whispered again, his voice so soft, like a lullaby. “i’ve got you, sweetie.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not

These two weren’t fond of sharing.

So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.

They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.

The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.

And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.

Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.

‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.

Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.

You: Wade can you let go.

Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?

You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-

Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?

You: no- well yes but-

Wade: you hate me!

Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.

Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.

After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.

Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.

He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.

He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.

Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.

He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.

Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.

You: wow I really feel the love over here.

Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*

Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.

He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.

Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.

Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?

Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.

Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!

Logan: *looks at him* you what?!

Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.

They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.

Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.

You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?

Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.

Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.

Wade: see! He’s not denying it!

You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*

Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.

Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.

The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.

The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.

The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.

Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.