#and be situated in a way where they won't come off. either under the first phalange or at the base of the finger so i can grip them

[scintillating-scales]

Dude I need claws SO bad. Except I need prosthetics to be really sturdy, so I can actually like. Use them for shit. Like I wanna be able to wear them to help me climb or claw at stuff or whatever I need them for. But people only make like plastic or foam or resin claws. It's not STRONG enough. I need like. IRON claws. STEEL claws. Claws I can climb trees and rock faces with. Claws that could kill a man if I wanted them to. It's a fucking TRAGEDY these aren't a thing, and I swear to God I'm about to learn metalworking just so I can make myself a suitable set.

Edit: someone actually made me some 👀 he's open for commission if anyone wants their own set. Check the RBs for my post !!

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Noncon yandere slasher x fem reader - 5.2k words Tags: knife play, spitting in your mouth, slight degradation, DEAD DOVE

Quit fucking squirming. I will cut you, understand?

There. See? Not so hard. Just hold still and let me look at you.

Pretty thing... Even prettier with the way you're all stretched out under me. Never thought I'd be so into a girl, but I guess I was just waiting for the right one to come along.

What's that, honey? Can't really hear you through the gag. Don't really care to neither. I'm not here to listen to you talk.

Hmmm, you're a cute little thing too, you know that? I noticed it the first time I saw you. Sitting in the hot tub with all your friends, getting drunk and stumbling around all helpless. Don't blame yourself too much, but you're the whole reason I ended up here. Did what I did.

It was fate, really. Or luck. Bad luck, on your part. Great fucking luck on mine.

I don't really walk through the woods on my way home. But the snow was coming on and I figured a few minutes shaved off would save me a world of trouble.

Didn't know folk stayed all the way out here. Guess this is some kind of AirBnB situation? Yeah, your plates aren't local, I noticed that much.

I heard you laughing. That's what dragged me off the path. Should be the other way around, don't you think? Me, the big, bad killer, luring you off into the cold, scary woods. But no. Not this time.

Heard you laughing and it got me curious.

If your host kept their fence in better shape maybe I'd have given up. Too fucking late and too fucking tired to be hopping fences.

You're all quiet now. What, you like listening to me yammer? Or are you just curious? Probably ain't easy to be you - some deranged killer coming out of the woods and picking off all your friends. Hell, I guess I'd want to hear his story too, if I was in your shoes.

Where was I? Right, the hole in your fence. Reckon you didn't even notice it. Had no reason to go looking for it.

But I found it. Looked through it just to see what was so damn funny. And that's when I saw you.

D'you know your hot tub is right under those fucking - whaddya call 'em - fairy lights? They make you look like a fucking dream. Reflecting off your skin where it's all wet. Playboy centre fold kind of shit.

I didn't even notice your friends at first. Couldn't take my eyes off you. Kept wondering what your skin felt like - all warm and wet from the water? Or chilly where the air touched you?

And then you stood up and I got a real good look at you. Didn't really think I had a type, but baby, it's you.

What are you looking at? You keep darting your eyes at the door, like someone is gonna save you.

Not happening. No one left out here but you and me.

Do you know how far we are from town? I bet that's why you booked this place, right? A nice, isolated cabin where you and your friends can party as loud as you want. That backfired pretty bad, didn't it? They screamed and screamed and no one heard 'em.

You're crying again. Is it grief or guilt?

Don't worry, baby. I'm here to kiss it all better.

Killing is... You probably think I'm a fucking serial killer, don't you? Guess I probably am. That's the kind of thing they call you when the bodies start stacking up, ain't it?

Thing is, it's never planned out. I don't do this shit for pleasure. At least, not the way you think.

It's like there's this pressure in my head. Building. Getting worse all the time. Only thing that makes it go away is this. Killing.

No, I don't know why they haven't caught me either. Like I said, I don't plan this shit out. It just happens. Like something inside me snaps and my head won't go quiet until its over.

You look scared. Guess I would be too, if some bastard covered in blood had me tied to the bed.

You're the last one, y'know. In case you're still wondering.

All your friends are dead. Even that flighty little bitch who tried running through the woods. Fuck, that was so annoying. Bet she was an annoying friend to have too, huh? I saw the way she was grinding up on your boyfriend last night. You shoulda put her in her place. 'Swhat I would have done. Bash her pretty face in and see how much your boyfriend likes her then.

Sorry. Got a bit worked up for a second.

We've already established I'm not the most... balanced person. So maybe don't do what I do.

I never talk this much. Don't really have a lot of people to talk to. Those fuckers at work are all brain dead, and my friends are mostly in the pen. Hard to talk when they've only got half an hour a week on the phones.

You look like you're the type to listen though. Sweet. Caring. Type to give a kid a kiss on the knee when they fall off their bike and start howling.

Y'know, I almost feel bad about this. But I guess you should know for sure, given what comes next. Might stop you from feeling like you're cheating or something.

You boyfriend is dead.

Thought he was gonna give me some trouble, big guy like that.

Nah. Bled like a stuck pig. Barely knew how to fight. Dissapointing honestly.

You're crying again. Is it the fact that your boyfriend is dead or the fact that I've got you all pinned up under me while I talk about him?

Either way, I like it when you cry.

Yeah, I know. Yet another fucked up thing to like. I mean, I know it's fucked. But I can't help it. It's the way I'm wired.

You must be wondering why you're still alive.

Truth is, I'm not sure either. I don't get, like, turned on when I kill. It's not enjoyable that way, y'know?

But seeing you run away from me? Scrambling like hell, almost making it? Yeah, that sure as fuck turned me on.

Don't look so surprised. I'm literally on top of you, what did you think was gonna happen?

Oh, and now you're squirming again. Can you at least let me finish talking first?

Stop it. Quit fucking moving so much. Hey -

I said FUCKING STOP.

There. Nice and quiet now that I've got a hand on your throat.

Anyway, where was I?

Right, I don't get turned on by this shit. I try not to do it at all, but that's plain impossible. My head goes all weird and then something small sets me off and next thing I know there's a dead cashier or an old lady with their head bashed in.

I've been trying to find other ways of letting off steam. Nothing works. Nothing scratches that itch.

Well, that's what I thought. Until I ran into you.

Y'know, your friend group is the only time I've done this shit premeditated? I spent all night watching you. I'm the one who pulled the spark plugs out of your car. I'm the one who tripped the lights. That was particularly fun. Had people stumbling over dead bodies in the dark and then screaming their heads off.

It was the most fun I've ever had. And I think the whole reason is you.

At the back of my mind, I knew I was going to save you for last. Like a little treat.

Oh, you don't like that at all, do you? You're crying even harder. Didn't think that was possible.

Don't wanna be my dessert? Don't wanna be all sweet for me? That's too fucking bad, sweetheart. 'Cause only one of us has a knife and it sure as hell ain't you.

At first, I thought I was just going to kill you. Maybe take my time with it. See what it's like when I think things through.

But then I caught you. Actually held you against my body while your kicked and screamed.

I don't know what makes you so special.

All I know is that when I finally had my hands on you... I stopped thinking about killing.

Maybe I just got all that shit out of my system when I was busy with your friends. But I don't think that's the whole truth.

When I hauled you up here and tied you up... I gotta be honest, my thoughts were getting real filthy.

That's new. Like I said, this shit doesn't turn me on. I've never had fantasies about... well, I guess we should call a spade a spade, huh? I've never gotten turned on thinking about forcing someone.

But that's exactly what I'm going to do to you. We both know it.

Hey, no turning away. No closing your eyes like I'm some boogeyman that will just go away. Look at me. I said -

Look. At. Me.

Mhm, ain't that pretty? So fucking scared. You make me feel like a God.

Tell me something sweetheart, am I your type? If I wasn't covered in blood and stuff. Don't worry, you can be honest.

No? Didn't think so. Your boyfriend looked sweet. Kind of guy who asks if he can kiss you and hold your hand and all that sappy shit. Me? Well, we both know I ain't asking before I take what I want.

Y'know, it's funny. When I was a kid, I ended up in juvie. Over some stupid shit. Vandalism or something. Can't remember. But when I was in there they had this shrink. Used to single me out all the time for extra sessions. Said he was worried about some "escalating violent tendencies" or something. I didn't really listen.

But now? I think he might've been onto something. I just kill to scratch the itch, y'know? But this? What I'm about to do to you? Oh baby, it's all pleasure.

It's going to be a real fucking pleasure to screw you, sweetheart.

Ha. Look at you go. You really think you can fight me off now? Bit late to try the muay thai, doll.

Where should I start? I think we'll go with your shirt. I've been wanting to see what's under your bra ever since I saw you in your bikini.

Hmm, your hands are in the way with the way I've got you tied. Guess I'll just have to rip it. Hope it didn't have sentimental value.

Just gonna grab it by the collar and...

Would you look at that? Shit tore like fucking paper. Guess that's the universe's way of giving me the go ahead.

Let's toss it. Get to the good stuff.

Oh. Oh my. Is that a lace bra? My favorite colour too.

Aww, did you dress up all pretty for me, sweetheart?

Let me just... Fuck, your tits feel fucking amazing. The perfect size for me. Cute little nipples too. I wonder what happens if I pinch 'em like this...

Baby, was that a moan? Did you just moan for me?

Ha! Didn't know you were such a slut. Thought for sure you were the sweet little girl-next-door. Barley been kissed, barley been fingered, never been fucked.

Don't get all shy now. No use hiding your face. We both heard it.

How about we just say that your body betrayed you? Would that make you feel better? I can fuck you good and proper and when you come you can pretend you didn't enjoy it. There, will that help you sleep at night?

No answer. Guess you can't really give one. And even if I did take that gag off, I reckon you wouldn't have much to say beyond, "Please don't fuck me Mr Serial Killer! I'm saving it for marriage!"

Hmm. Maybe I'm not so opposed to that - hearing you beg a little. Especially with those pretty tears in your eyes.

...No. I'll save that for later. For now...

I hate to cut your bra off, sweetheart. It looks real expensive. But I'll buy you a new one, promise. Victoria's Secret or whatever you want.

Look at you freezing up. Don't like feeling my knife tracing up your belly? Here, why don't you feel it at your throat too?

Sharp, ain't it? Even after everything I've used it for.

You're not going to keep giving me a hard time, are you? I can fuck you with my knife at your throat the entire time if I have to. Awful dangerous that. One little slip...

Yeah, you're gonna be good for me. I can see it in your eyes.

Let's get back to it then. Gotta say, I'm getting hard just playing with you like this. Dragging the tip of my knife down your chest, slipping it under your bra... it's such a pretty sight.

Hold still for this part. Don't wanna cut you too bad.

The straps first. And now the band...

Shiiiit doll, it's even better than I hoped. Look at those tits.

You don't mind if get a taste do you?

Mhhmmm. So warm. I kind of want to just...

Hah, look at the way you squirm when I bite your nipples. What's wrong, gorgeous? Worried I'm gonna leave a mark? Worried your boyfriend is gonna find out? I think he's beyond caring at this point.

Speaking of marks, I've always wanted to give a girl a lovebite. Ma used to say it was trashy, but I think it's kind of sexy. Walking around and everyone knowing you've been fucked.

Here, tilt your head to the side a little. I want to kiss your neck.

Was that a shiver? Don't like me so close, is that it? I ain't gonna bite out your jugular like a dog. At least, not today.

Hmmm, you smell amazing. How the hell do girls do that? Smell like fucking strawberries and shit? Makes me want to gobble you right up.

How do you feel right now, I wonder. Big, scary killer kissing your neck and saying you smell good. I wonder if this shit turns you on. I've heard some girls are really into this "dark romance" stuff. Don't really think I'm being romantic right now, but who's to say?

Why don't we check?

Hey, I'm just unbuttoning your jeans. Quit trying to buck me off.

I could fucking cut them off, if you want me to use my knife so bad.

Yeah, that's what I thought. All nice and sweet for me when I mention the knife. Fucking ridiculous. I can kill you just as easy with my bare hands.

See? You've gone and pissed me off. I was trying to be nice to you. I'm not even going to bother anymore, if you're going to be like that.

Matching panties. Fuck, I'm not even in the mood to appreciate them anymore.

Just gonna rip them off and get straight to it.

Two fingers enough for you sweetheart? Goddamn, look at you arching off the bed. Two fingers too fucking much, apparently.

Shit, you're tight. Must not want this at all. Not surprising. I reckon if I play a bit with my fingers, you'll loosen up. Biology and all that.

God, it's so fucking sick seeing my fingers sliding into you like this. You're getting my gloves all slick and wet. Bet that must feel real strange, huh? Getting finger fucked while I'm still wearing my gloves?

Guess I was right about the dark romance thing. You're soaking. Does this shit really turn you on? Hell, you're about as sick and twisted as me, if that's really the case.

Don't like that, do you? Yeah, I can tell.

You make such cute noises, you know that? All these little gasps and whines. Not like that fake shit you see in porn.

Didn't think I'd be getting so turned on just fingering a girl, but hell baby, I'm 'bout to burst my jeans.

I can't believe I'm about to do this, but it's too late to stop now. Let's get my belt off...

Aaaah, that's so much better. Was fucking strangling my cock. Here, let me grab your thighs and hook your knees over my shoulders.

Yeah, this is perfect. Let's me hold onto your hips real nice.

Can you feel that, sweetheart? My cock rubbing up against your pussy?

Stop shaking your head like that's gonna stop me. Kicking and screaming and crying ain't stopped me, what makes you think I'll change my mind now?

Give me a second. I want to look at you properly. Make sure I remember this for the rest of my life. The first time I'm fucking my girl and ain't she prettier than a picture? Not even my wettest dreams could have come up with something so perfect.

Only one thing in the world could possibly makes this better.

See my knife? Feel the way I'm pressing it against your cheek? Remember that feeling when I slice your gag off.

I want to hear three words. That's it. Anything else and I start cutting, got it?

Good. Now, here's what I want you to say.

"Please fuck me."

You got that? No begging me to stop. No asking me to go slow. Just begging me to fuck you. Nothing else.

And if you ruin this for me, sweetheart? If you fuck up my perfect fantasy? You'll be joining your friends. I don't need you breathing to fuck you. Just warm. Understand?

Good.

There. Your gag is off. What do you say?

Ha! Baby, how can I resist when you ask so nice? Sure honey, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you so hard my cock will brand itself inside your belly. Ready?

Fuuuucckk.

Oh God, you're the hottest cunt I've ever had. Just wanna stay here for the rest of my life, deep inside you.

Here, let me press my hand against your lower belly when I start thrusting.

Shit, I can actually feel it.

I can feel my dick inside you. Heh, guess I'm a little too big for you afterall.

You're sucking me in, you know that? Your pussy wants me. Don't matter that I'm practically splitting you in half. Your filthy, whore cunt still wants me.

Aww, look at the way you flinch when I swear. Bet your boyfriend never said a single mean thing to you in his life, huh?

God, it's hard to keep so slow. But I'm managing it, just for you. Giving you time to adjust. See? I can be a gentleman too sometimes. Say thank you.

I said, say thank you.

Sure thing, doll. I'll do anything for you. Well, anything except let you go. Ain't gonna be doing that anytime soon, not with how perfect you are for me.

Never had a fuck this good in my life. Didn't think it could get this good.

Hey, don't look away from me. Did I say you could look away from me?

Do I gotta grab your face and force you?

There. Let me see those pretty eyes. Let me see the fear and the pain and the guilt. Give me everything, baby. I want it all. Every part you have to give. Your body. Your soul. They'll all be mine by the time I'm through.

Can't keep holding back. Grab the sheets if you have to, but I'm not slowing down after this.

That's it. Fucking take it.

Take it take it take it. Take my cock and beg for more.

Pretty little slut, I'm gonna fuck you rotten and raw. Ain't known the meaning of getting dicked down until I came along.

Fuck, that's it. Cry for me. Let me see those tears.

Listen to you, repeating what I told you to say like it's going to save you. Just makes me want you more, baby.

Hell, you're tight. Gonna cum inside you. Gonna mark you up. Gonna make you mine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were made for me, I get it now. Made just for me. No one else is ever going to touch you. I'll kill them. I'll kill you.

Take it, bitch. Take my cock and keep begging for more.

Nothing could pull me out of you. Not heaven or hell or judgement day. This is right where I belong. Inside you. Raping you.

Yeah, that's exactly what this is. Ain't no use denying it. I see you shaking your head like hearing the word makes it real.

That's what I am, aren't I? Your rapist.

And you're still begging me to fuck you.

Oh, you're fucked, doll. Well and truly fucked.

Open your mouth. I want to lean forward and let my spit drop into your mouth while I screw you bleeding.

Swallow.

Good.

You're never going to get the taste out, y'know that? I'm always going to be a part of you - my spit, my cum, all of it. Inside you forever.

You can scrub away my touch but you'll never outlive these memories, baby. I've burnt myself into your head.

Even if I let you go, I'll always be with you. More than your boyfriend. More than any lover you've had or will have.

It's me. It's always going to be me. Your worst fucking nightmare made real.

Tell me you want it. Say you want me to fill you up. Beg me.

Yeah, that's it. Just give in, baby. Stop holding yourself so stiff and just let it happen. Enjoy it.

Bet your man never fucked you this hard, huh? Bet your cunt was dying to be filled with a real cock.

Here, let me move your legs down so they're around my waist instead. I want to kiss you.

No, don't shake your head. You let me spit in your mouth but you don't want to let me kiss you? The hell kind of prude mentality is that?

I'm just going to... yeah, grab a fistful of your hair so you can't keep avoiding me. Look into my eyes, baby. Look at the man who owns you.

Mmhmm, you taste like cotton candy. How the hell do you taste so sweet?

It's kind of cute how inexperienced you are. Got no idea how to kiss a man properly. But it's okay, love. I'll teach you. I'll teach you plenty - how to kiss, how to take cock, how to suck dick.

Better than a college education and all it costed was the lives of your friends. Sweet deal, huh?

Here, kiss me again. No, I don't mean just holding still while I kiss you. I mean I want you lean up and kiss me like you want me back.

No? No?

Listen bitch, you don't get to say no.

Not to me, not ever. Do I have to grab your jaw so hard I leave bruises?

Kiss me back. I'm not fucking asking.

Why the hesitation anyway? I'm in your cunt, aren't I? There ain't any modesty left between us.

Or is it one of those special things? Like how backdoor doesn't count as losing it before marriage?

No, not quite. I think it's more so about the uh intimacy. Yeah, I reckon that's what this is about. Kisses are special. Only for the man you love. Sure, I'm balls deep inside you but if you don't kiss me, it ain't so bad. Is that right? Did I get it?

Hmm, from the way you're avoiding my eyes I reckon I hit the nail on the head.

Baby, do you really think there's anything you can keep from me? I told you once already, I'm taking it all. Everything you would have given your boyfriend, your husband, your true love. All that and more.

So, kiss me back.

That's it. Good girl, taking orders like a champ.

I think I won't ever get tired of your mouth. Kissing you...

C'mere, I want some more.

What's that, doll? You asking me why I stopped moving? Guess I just want to bury myself inside you a little longer. Don't want this to end.

'S hard though. Hanging on so long. If I didn't like you so much I would have busted ages ago.

Hmm, this is nice too. I could get used to this. Cockwarming. Never saw the appeal, but then I've never had a cunt as velvety soft as yours.

You're kind of cringing, why is that?

Hurts? Oh, you mean when I stay still? Yeah, I reckon that's a whole different type of hurt, ain't it?

Want me to start moving again?

Yes? Ha! Never thought I'd hear you say it, doll. Say it and mean it, too.

Let me start moving again and -

Huh. You're liking this. Or at least your body is. You're kinda shifting around to meet me when I fuck into you. Don't think you even realise you're doing it.

Aww, are you embarrassed? Don't hide it from me, sweetheart. I think it's cute that you want to fuck me back. Makes my heart all soft and warm and shit.

Got me feeling - what's it called again - yeah, paternal. Got me feeling like I should take care of you. Should kiss those tears away.

I reckon we're about the same age, but that don't matter. I feel all...protective. Like I ought to lock you away, keep you safe from all the other bastards in the world.

Sorry. I think I'm a little cunt drunk. Got me sayin' the dumbest, sappiest shit.

I reckon we ought to finish this, yeah? Aww, look at you nodding and agreeing with me. You want my cum that bad, doll? Don't worry, I'll give it to you. Give you every drop.

Need to go deeper. Need some leverage.

Oh, this'll do nicely. One hand on your hip and one around your throat. Let's me pull you back onto my dick with every thrust.

Your throat feels so fucking right when I hold you like this. Gives me all the power in the world. One little squeeze and I've stolen your air right alongside everything else I've taken.

Look at the way you're squirming. I think you're 'bout to come. Didn't think I could wring it out of you, but I reckon it's just another sign that we're meant for each other.

Let me pick you up a little, wrap my arm around your waist so you're bouncing on my cock. Hmm, I can kiss your neck like this too.

Shit, that's so much tighter. You're strangling my dick, baby. Go easy, God.

Oh, fuck I'm so close. I think you are too.

Where's my knife? Hey, don't squirm, I'm just gonna cut your hands loose. There.

Here, wrap them around my - huh, guess I don't have to tell you. Mmm, really diggin' your nails in, ain'tcha? Holdin' onto me like I'm the last lifeline in the whole world.

No, don't move. I like it like this. All pressed up against you.

Gonna hold onto my knife though. Can't have your hands loose and leave my knife lyin' around. Nah, don't worry. I ain't gonna hurt you with it. Just gonna keep it in my hand.

God, baby. Do that again. Grind on me again.

Mhmm, that's so...

Sorry. But I'm not holdin' back anymore. We're finishing this.

Hold on tight. I'm gonna give you the best ride of your life.

Hahh, listen to you whinin'. Fucked all the thoughts right outta your head, didn't I? You ain't even usin' words no more.

You're close. I can tell. Just come for me, doll. Quit worryin' 'bout right and wrong. Just shut your brain off and let your pussy get what she needs.

Thaaat's it. Keep grinding on my cock.

Fuck, I can feel every little tremor and squeeze.

Yes, just like that. Come on, come on now. Give in, baby. It was a losing fight from the start.

Oh God, that's it. You're squeezing me to hell, baby.

Dammit, I can't hold on much longer.

Fuck, oh fuck. That's it, yeah that's it. Take it. Take it. FUCKING TAKE IT.

Take my cum, baby. Have every drop of it.

I fucking love you. I do.

My fuckdoll, my pretty girl. Take every drop baby, you've earned it.

Damn. I can't - I can't even talk. Gimmme a minute. I just... needa catch my breath.

Fucking hell.

Hey, c'mere. No pulling away now. I want to keep holding you so close.

Just let me rest my head on your neck for a sec, okay?

Mhhmm. You still smell so good. But I can smell the sex on you now too. You're like a bitch after heat.

I like it. Like smelling myself on you.

Shh, no crying. Just hang onto me. Dig your nails in, if it makes you feel better.

You're my girl. I'll take care of you. I promise.

No, I'm not pulling out. I'm going to keep you plugged up. Don't want to waste all that hard earned cum, do you?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Shhh, baby, shhh. You're okay. I've got you.

Here, let me move the hair out of your face. I want to look at you.

Ah, there she is. My girl.

Look at those eyes... You're even prettier now, baby. Didn't think it was possible, but it's true. The way you're looking at me... All soft and defenceless... It's the prettiest thing I've ever seen.

You look surprised. I can be nice too, y'know. Just got to get all the cruelty out of my system.

Ma used to say it was the devil. Used to call it my devil face. When I'd get so bad that I'd kick the cat or pinch the baby or set things on fire.

I bet I scared you real bad, huh? Your whole body is shaking.

Shhh, you're okay. I've calmed down now, see? I'm not going to keep hurting you.

Here, I'll even hum you a song. The lullaby my ma used to sing me whenever I had a nightmare. And I reckon this sure as hell is a nightmare for you. The worst night you've ever had.

C'mere, put your head on my shoulder.

There, a little better isn't it? You're not crying anymore.

What's that, doll? Did you say something?

Will I let you go? Oh, honey. What a silly question...

I can't. Even if we ignore the fact that you've seen my face and heard my voice and have my DNA all over you, I don't want to let you go.

I wasn't lying. I think I'm falling in love with you. And I realised something. Fucking you... it's even better than killing. Doesn't scratch the exact same itch, no. But it comes pretty damn close.

Close enough that I think I'll be able to hold off. Close enough that I think my head will stay on straight if I have you around.

Not guaranteed. I can't control this shit, God knows I've tried. But maybe there's a chance.

I'm not letting you go, love. No way in hell.

You're the best damn fuck I've ever had.

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

Taglist: @jsprien213 @trolleri-trollera @mel-vaz

[bitchesmoonwalkin]

NSFWhump: Threats & Fear

okay attempt two at posting this

ways of making a whumpee scared of non-con without outright nc or threats

carewhumper vibes. the obvious tws apply

manhandling. throw them onto the bed and straddle their hips, keeping their hands pinned on either side of their head. alternatively, bend them over a table or a bed, keeping them there with a hand tangled in their hair or on the back of their neck.

alternatively, keeping them pressed against your chest or guiding them with fingers tangled in their hair or digging into their hip, just slightly under their waistband

classic shows of submission. tie them up and have them kneel - especially if it's between your whumpers spread legs. give their hair a pet every once in a while if they're good.

pet names: baby, pet, pretty boy, pup, princess. etc.

strip them. personally i prefer keeping my whumpees in their underwear and maybe a carewhumpers tshirt, but even so the act of stripping them is a great place for some physical and psychological whump - ESPECIALLY when the whumpee has only just been kidnapped/captured and does not yet know what to expect

have them undress in front of you for the first time before making them bend over the bed. watch their hands shake and their eyes fill with tears, feel them tense underneath you, frozen with fear. and then you simply just handcuff them or even just walk out of the room, leaving them to question when the n/c will start - only it won't. their fear is all you wanted, after all

gruff/significantly larger or older caretaker bathing a younger whumpee who doesn't feel safe around them yet - whumpee flinching away but too weak to fight as they are gently stripped and placed in the bath, being cleaned /everywhere/ in a way that makes them flush with shame even if there's no intention behind the touches

whumpee being gently but firmly forced into a humiliating position, maybe forced to stand still for an /inspection/ filled with clinical yet invasive touches

using objects w sexual connotations (ball gags, blindfolds, certain whips and types of restraints) in non-sexual situations

this works especially well for a newer whumpee - strip them, blindfold and ball gag them before thing them to a mattress, legs spread. then let them wake up on their own, slowly, watch the fear kick in as they come to their own conclusions about what's going to happen to them

some more explicit stuff below the cut

those dildo gags or maybe an anal plug or vibe - just, you know. keep it in

shoving fingers into whumpees mouth until tears come to their eyes

be handsy with them

taking photos of them in intimate or humiliating posistions

whumper jerking off onto whumpees face where they're tied up and kneeling

buying whumpee lingerie - if they wear it, they might get some food or even first aid

[rcmclachlan]

Joining the 8x16 spec fic party. MCD warning!

+

Red Over Red

Buck/Tommy

Summary: Ships not under command identify themselves by showing two all-around red lights, one above the other.

Read on AO3

+

It takes Tommy maybe two minutes tops to do a post-flight check. It's so routine at this point in his career that he could do it in his sleep if someone would let him, but ever since Nico accidentally trafficked elephant tusks to Sacramento two years ago, napping in the cockpit has been strictly forbidden.

He's just about to take a look at the alignment of the skids when he hears his name. He turns to see Dana coming over. The blankness to her expression isn't what gives him pause, because that's just her face, but the fact that she's jogging.

Tommy's worked with Dana for eight years now and she has never moved at anything but a deliberate, sedate glide, no matter the situation. He once saw her stroll through the collapsing hallway of a building that was being actively consumed by a five-alarm fire like she was taking a leisurely hike through the Cucamonga.

As she hauls ass across the tarmac, he sees Dana's normally perfect finger waves are completely disheveled, and that fills him with more dread than anything this job or Afghanistan could possibly throw at him. She has her phone in her hand.

The moment she comes to a stop in front of him, her expression shifts to something resembling mild distress, which means that either half of L.A. was just sucked into an open fault line, or—

For a second, he thinks the klaxons are going off, or someone set off the fire alarm in the main hangar, because there's a high-pitched ringing in his ears that is trying to worm its way down into his vagus nerve and make him puke. Everything goes fuzzy, then slowly the knob turns until clarity comes back. He's bent at the waist, hands gripping his thighs, and Dana's the only thing keeping him from toppling over. Dizziness has him in a half nelson.

"Head between your knees, Kinard," she instructs quietly. "That's it."

He thinks about standing in line at DJ's Smoke Shop & Market weeks ago, bouncing on his heels while waiting for the guy in front of him to finish picking his lottery tickets, and trying to remember his nonna's recipe for home fries. The bottle of Prosecco he'd grabbed on a whim had been burning a hole through the basket and was probably cooking the eggs he was going to drop $13 on, but he couldn't stop looking at it. All he wanted to do was pop the cork and pour it into a pair of flute glasses he'd probably have to locate and unpack. Which sounded like a lot of work when it would be so much easier to simply pour the champagne into Evan's mouth and drink it off his tongue.

He thinks about Evan looking him in the eye and declaring he didn't need to feel anything for the people he slept with.

He thinks about living in a world where Evan Buckley isn't.

"Say it," Tommy chokes out, clenching his jaw against the sour crackle deep in the bone. He's going to be sick. He's going to— "You have to say it."

Dana places a gentle hand on his back. "It wasn't him, Kinard. Not him. Buckley's fine."

Sinuses burning, Tommy drops his head back down and takes a shuddering breath, nodding. Not him. Not him.

The thought of Evan dying, of Evan being dead and gone and higher than even Tommy can fly, slips every time it tries to catch a foothold in his brain. He refuses to even entertain it. This is a man who's survived being crushed by a rig, a tsunami, a pulmonary embolism, a lightning strike, among other things, and is still hungry for anything the universe might throw at him. And despite its best efforts, the universe is never going to get Evan to flinch first.

Clearing his throat, he ducks away from Dana and wipes his cheek with his shoulder. Their flight suits are polyester, so the evidence of this will dry fast. She won't say a word to anyone else.

"Who was it?" It comes out like it's being dragged over broken glass and he coughs to try and clear out the clog. "Oh god, it wasn't—it wasn't Howie, was it? Hen?"

When Dana doesn't answer, he looks up to find she's just holding out her phone to him.

Edmundo Diaz 03:51

He watches the duration of the call tick on, then squints at Dana. "Why do you have Eddie's number?"

"Is that the question you want to ask right now?" she asks, like she didn't politely goad Eddie into nearly putting his fist through a wall the last time they were in the same room.

Off kilter and still a bit dizzy, Tommy straightens up and takes the phone.

"Eddie? Who was it?"

He takes a deep breath in and holds it.

+

Despite the AirOps hangar being at least three times its size, the 118 station has always been larger than life. When Gerrard was in charge, every day it felt like walking into the gaping maw of some primordial beast, swallowed whole to be slowly digested, burned away over the course of a shift, until it spat him out just so he could do it again the next day. That he kept going back says more about him than it does about Gerrard.

The slew of interim captains they were saddled with after Gerrard felt like intermission, like they were just waiting for the second act to start. From the moment he stepped out of the rig and slapped a twenty into the pot to bank on his own odds, Captain Nash was there to stay. And he tamed that hateful creature enough that Tommy was able to leave every shift completely intact. 

Tommy stands on the sidewalk outside the bay and stares at the closed doors. When Tommy had been there, Bobby refused to close them.

"I don't like the look of a closed door. I don't like what it implies," Bobby had said when Tommy awkwardly asked about it. "I want everyone to know they're welcome here, day or night. I want them to know it's safe for them to be here. The doors stay open. Captain's orders."

Swallowing, he walks over to the regular entrance and lets himself in.

Normally you can hear the crew shouting and laughing from half a block away, and there are always people milling about, doing chores, fixing things, coming outside to shoot the shit with passersby. Tommy always loved the sound of it. He loved how tight-knit they all were, but also how willing they were to bring someone new into the fold. The handful of times he picked Evan up after his shift, Tommy would end up talking to at least four different people, which would always eat into their date nights. They had to cancel a reservation once, but it felt worth it just to be able to walk back to his truck with that warmth in his chest, with his cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much. Evan never complained. If anything, he was happy to stay there a little longer himself.

Now the bay is so silent that Tommy can hear the racing of his own heart. Anyone else would think the place had been deserted.

As he walks past the parked rigs, he spies a few people from B-shift. Ravi has Moore wrapped up in his arms and is resting his chin on top of her head. Hoang is wiping down a hose coupling with jerky, inefficient movements, breaking away to dab at her cheeks with the cloth.

Ravi looks up and his soft gaze sharpens the second it lands on Tommy. This must be what a deer feels like right before the truck hits.

After a moment, he gives him a nod, which makes Moore's head bob a little, then tilts his chin toward the administrative offices.

Shaky, Tommy nods in thanks and heads in that direction.

With every step, the world gets a little grayer, a little darker, and he feels a bit like the prince in Sleeping Beauty, hacking away at endless, twisting brambles that are doing everything they can to slow his momentum.

It feels like he's been fighting for a year without a single moment's rest by the time he makes it to the admin section. When he sees who's hanging outside the office with NASH on the door like a guard dog, texting on his phone, Tommy wishes he'd taken a moment to catch his breath.

He must make a noise or something, because Eddie jerks like he's been startled awake and claps eyes on Tommy. Pocketing his phone, Eddie peels away from the wall he'd been trying to sink into to offer his hand to Tommy like nothing's changed between them.

"Thanks for coming," Eddie says, quiet, almost choked. It sounds like he even means it. "I wasn't sure—"

Tommy can't bear to hear the rest of that, so he takes Eddie's hand in his own and pulls him in for a quick hug. "Of course I came. Of course. Don't thank me for—there was never..." He takes a breath, steps back, and tries again. "H-How are you holding up, man?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Eddie says with a damp chuckle. He drops his head and heaves a sigh that Tommy can feel in his own lungs. "I'm grateful I was already here. The way I feel and probably look right now? They'd never have let me on the plane."

Tommy doesn't remember how he navigated Sea-Tac after his dad died. He honestly can't believe Jet Blue let him board, either.

"Has anyone heard...?" He doesn't know how to finish the thought, but luckily Eddie's always been perceptive. He was always on Tommy's wavelength.

"Not yet. Athena ID'd the b—" Eddie bites off the sentence suddenly and swallows the rest of it down. Tommy can taste the rot in the word anyway. "She confirmed it was him."

Tommy closes his eyes and tries not to think about the unshakeable Athena Grant pulling the white sheet off the love of her life.

He clears his throat. "Where are... where are Hen and Howie?"

"Hen went with Athena," Eddie says. "She left hours ago, so who knows. Chim's... Chim couldn't stay. He couldn't... it's worse for him, you know? He's been here the longest."

The idea of the 118 without Bobby is almost too much to bear, but the 118 without Howie Han makes Tommy want to rip his own throat out. 

"And... and where's..." Tommy clenches his jaw, then relaxes it deliberately. "Where is he, Eddie?"

Eddie answers by rapping a gentle fist against the wall he'd been standing against. Bobby's office.

"He's been in there for a while," Eddie murmurs, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Athena called him a while ago and he's been in there ever since. He won't come out. I tried to get him to eat something, but..."

Eddie shakes his head, then shrugs. His shoulders drop like someone cut his strings.

"And you think I...?" Tommy hates himself for even asking, because this isn't about him. He wishes he could grab the words out of the air and stuff them back down his throat, but they float away like clouds.

Thankfully, Eddie doesn't call him a selfish fuck. Instead, he musters up a little smile as he mockingly says, "I don't think, I know. So try to forget you're a fucking idiot and just get in there, would you?"

Huffing a laugh, because damn. Despite everything, including the low-grade jealousy that he can't seem to treat no matter how much he tries, he really missed this asshole.

Tommy reaches out to squeeze Eddie's shoulder, then he steps around him to get to the door.

It brings him up short. The door is closed. The bay doors are one thing, but Bobby's office door was never shut. It makes him a little nauseated just looking at the way it doesn't quite line up with the frame.

Through the window, he sees Evan, and his heart breaks at the way his body curves in on itself, hunched over Bobby's desk like an animal trying to hide a wound. A renaissance painter couldn't have captured such despair. Heartbreak of the Favored Son, oil on canvas.

Tommy has no idea what kind of reception is waiting for him on the other side of this door, but Eddie seems sure Tommy won't be turned away. He wouldn't have called Tommy if he thought it'd be for nothing.

"He needs you, man," Eddie had said on the phone.

He takes a deep breath in and holds it, and opens the door.

Almost immediately, Evan lifts his head, like he can tell who it is by the way the knob turns, and his expression is such a miserable mix of relief and devastation that Tommy doesn't stop to second guess himself. He doesn't need to. By the time he gets around the desk, Evan's already throwing himself into Tommy's arms.

"You're here," Evan sobs, clutching at him like he's afraid Tommy might disappear. There will be bruises everywhere he touches Tommy come morning. "Oh thank god, you're here. T-Tommy—"

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere," Tommy whispers frantically into his hair, tightening his arms. "I've got you. Evan, baby, I've got you."

A tiny voice in the back of his mind hisses at him to close the door so no one else can see this, but he ignores it in favor of holding Evan tight enough that their bodies might soon start to merge together.

There are only open doors here. Captain's orders.

[margonite-seer]

Hello, it's yappin' o'clock for me so I need to yell a little about one of the moments we as Hansry addicts sleep on a lot.

You know the war council meeting just before the romance scene? The one where they make up the suicide plan to get reinforcements and sabotage the Praguers' camp and where Henry and Samuel agree to go together?

What really gets me in this scene is Hans.

At first, he is willing to have the entire room draw straws on who will go. Which is very in character for him, because it is quirky, a bit childish, and reckless without any sense of logical thinking of choice with it but actually very objective and pushing for equality at the same time. He does not exclude himself from this list of people who would draw straws, but he does not put himself to the front either.

That all changes completely when Henry says he will go (whether alone or with Sam). The moment Hans hears this, he leaps at the opportunity to go with him.

No hesitation whatsoever.

He just does immediately because Henry is going.

I know Žižka commends Hans' bravery but, with all respect to Hans, I actually think it has less to do with his general bravery and more with this blind unquestionable loyalty and attachment that boils down to a very simple "wherever Henry goes, I go" and this intensifies if it's something serious and dangerous (as opposed to, let's say, a trivial event such as Henry doing chores for someone).

Hans just cannot comprehend the thought of staying behind when Henry is willingly putting himself in danger, double so now that this is late in the game and by now Hans is neck deep in love with Henry and fully knows it himself. He omits all planning, he talks before he thinks here. Before he declares he is going too, he doesn't stop for a second to even start pondering what Žižka replies with and what we all (and Hans should too) knows is true: that it would be unwise for Hans to go due to his political importance.

And then, finally, Hans realizes that he is not going to be joining Henry. That Henry will go without him on this mission that everyone in the room claims to be dangerous at best, clearly suicidal at worst. And he is so upset by this that he swears in Czech that angry frustrated "Fine.... Kurva." First of all, swearing like this under his breath is so unusual for Hans, as he usually lets the whole world know when he is pissed off. And this was the first and only time (correct me if I am wrong, I did not watch that much of English dub) that he swears in Czech in the English dub, bringing even more primal emotions to the situation. (Breaks the immersion a bit after the developers tried so hard to anglicize him by changing his name and all but whatever, that is for another post.)

He does not even sulk like an angry spoiled child, he is scared and desperate. He deflates, protectively terrified of the fact that yet again he won't be there for Henry. And this is even more obvious shortly after during THE romance scene. The entire story about Lancelot and Galehaut was, as we know, obviously a way to tell Henry he loves him but also to tell him how absolutely terrified he is for him. We all heard the way his voice shook when he was not even able to finish his thought about what would happen if anything happened to Henry.

However, what chilled me a lot watching this scene was what happened right after. And right before Henry puts his hand on Hans'.

"I'll be back."

At that, Hans shakes his head.

In a way that he looks like he wants to shake that sentence out of his head, to forget that Henry even said it in the first place. Because it sounds too much like a goodbye. And Hans knows this is a suicide mission, so Henry saying he will be back is just empty words that will make Hans hurt even more if Henry does not come back, right?

Hearing Henry say this as such a rare occurrence just further proves to Hans that this truly is a suicide mission where Henry is in a very high danger of dying/getting captured and never returning. And that just sends him spiralling even further into the despair that he might lose Henry and he cannot do anything about it because he must stay behind for the greater good.

And then, only then, Henry puts his hand on Hans'. When he sees how upset he is. "I promise you." That alone could have sent Hans even deeper into panic, because hearing promises sounds too much like a goodbye yet again, but Henry grounds him and brings him back to earth by putting his hand on his reassuringly.

And the rest is history, as Hans completely folds under the weight of his feelings.

Anyway this was a yap and a half, but I just love this love story so much. It has soooo many little gradual things that I will cherish this so beautifully done slow burn romance forever.

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[incorrectbatfam]

WFA spoilers ahead

Content warning for discussion of mental illness

Can I take a moment to appreciate how they showcased Jason's PTSD in the latest ep? This isn't the first time but I feel like this round struck much closer.

Although this is the website where people are open about mental illness, there's still a reluctance to address the "loud" or "frightening" or "angry" or "messy" side of it. Stuff like bipolar, schizophrenia, addiction, PTSD. It's why I'm extremely hesitant to talk about my own problems even under anonymity.

Conversely, there are mainline comics (and other media) that use this category of mental illness as an excuse for characters to go all-out in their aggression. Even if not intentional, it perpetuates the idea that a trigger will always send the person spiraling until either the worst happens or someone steps in as the "hero." It's basically sending the message to people like me that we're a ticking time bomb.

Then there's WFA. Jason's not fully present during his episode. It leads him into a dangerous situation while at the same time he's unable to grasp things like pain. The adrenaline and the overwhelming sense of fear drives him into fight mode. He gets tunnel vision while he's beating up the bar patrons to try and find the Joker. Without getting into details, I've been in Jason's shoes. I've found myself in risky places doing things I'd later regret. All because of the disconnect from reality that makes me believe what I'm doing is necessary. Not even justified, just necessary. Almost like a survival instinct.

And what's so important is that Jason isn't a villain and Dick isn't a savior. Dick reaffirms Jason's trauma and guides him through tangible steps rather than giving broad sweeping advice. Of course there's no one-size-fits-all coping method, but the biggest thing is having somebody in your corner who sees you beyond this bad episode. Sometimes I have that, sometimes I don't. WFA won't show it since it's all about family, but the times I didn't have someone were exponentially scarier.

At the same time, there are consequences that a simple grounding exercise can't remedy—Jason got hurt, he hurt others, and his appearance at Noonan's definitely put him on someone's radar if not the Joker. And they're just as real as his feelings and (hopefully) he's gonna be held accountable. Because that's how it goes in real life. Something sets me off, I screw up, I get bailed out, and once I come down from it I have to fix the mess I made.

Maybe I'm just reading too much into a fan comic. But I know that if a few panels can resonate so closely with me, then it's worth talking about because someone, somewhere is also feeling the same way.

[namism]

lost | seishiro nagi

➳ categories: canonverse, breaking up, angst, communication problems, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 1.7k

➳ summary: Nagi breaks up with you nonchalantly and you're wondering where it all went wrong.

➳ notes: this may or may not have been based on experience and i may or may not have gone through war flashbacks while writing this but it's a-okay!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

You got up from bed 28 hours ago. Nagi broke up with you 5 hours afterward.

Now that the clock strikes 1 in the afternoon, you can't tell whether or not the substance you're drinking out of your personalized coffee mug—which, by the way, was given to you by Nagi on your sixth monthsary—is water, coffee, or Red Bull. You have been officially up for 28 hours with nothing but this mystery substance to fuel your brain, but even not-water, not-coffee, or not-Red Bull can take your mind off the sinking anxiety that floods your system.

Thus comes the sudden urge to walk to the nearest convenience store and buy the first alcoholic drink your eyes land on. Although best boy Yoichi Isagi is already on speaker as he talks you out of doing so, in fear that your insomniac body will crash in the middle of the street with no guidance or a merciful civilian around to rush you to the hospital. He speaks in a hurried tone, almost panting, like he's on his way to your flat so that he can stop you before you ride the elevator four floors down to the building lobby, where the exit doors await your presence—but the sad truth is, he's in München, Germany, for work-related reasons, so all he can do to lend a hand is to stop whatever he's doing and focus on talking you out of doing silly things.

"I just need to sleep, Isagi," you tell him weakly, clutching your wool blanket closer to your chest as you lay on your couch in a fetal position. From the looks of your ongoing FaceTime call, Isagi is in his apartment, well-groomed and dressed in simple house clothes, and fresh out of the shower after a morning gym session. He has an AirPod in his left ear, while the other is probably somewhere in his apartment, wedged between tight spaces or buried under heaps of laundry. You wiggle your toes as the air conditioning restarts, feeling the cool air blow on your feet. "A Strong Zero will do it. They also have a new flavor, ha-ha."

"No, it won't. Sit tight and wait until Chigiri comes," he advises sternly. He called your mutual friend Hyoma Chigiri ten minutes ago upon FaceTiming you and learning about the terrible news that he never would have seen coming. Isagi was terrified by the sight of your bloodshot eyes, deepened eye bags, and unruly hair that spread on your couch pillow. When you began to cry, he knew that calling for backup was the best route. "I just… don't understand. Why did you break up?"

"He broke up with me," you correct. He mumbles a passive apology. "I don't understand it either. I mean, I kinda do, but my brain isn't making any sense of it, or maybe it just doesn't want to."

"Nagi is unreadable. I get it."

You groan.

"You see, it's not even that."

You turn on your side and lay flat on your back. You situate the phone on your chest, so that Isagi has a rather unpleasant view of your chin. He mimics your actions by flopping on his bed and lying on his back, inclining his phone perpendicular to his torso.

"Most people can't read him, but I can. I can tell if he's bothered or hungry, if he's annoyed or upset. We were doing okay until yesterday."

"Maybe there's a part of him that you can't read after all," Isagi suggests, then he realizes his indifferent tone. "Crud. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine," you mumble with a frown. "I might as well get used to reality."

You fear that Isagi might be right. While you were always confident that Nagi was more loose around you (save for his childhood friend Reo), there could have been some part of himself that he kept hidden.

In that case, you wonder why. As far as you can remember, Nagi never had any trouble voicing out his feelings to you.

"What did he even say?" asks Isagi.

"He said some things," you answer.

"I'm going to assume that he didn't elaborate." He sighs, disappointed in the turn of events. "How did it sound to you?"

You think about it deeply. Nagi, a man of a few words, in fact, did not elaborate much on his breakup speech, but from the many years you knew him, you caught on to his reasoning. The way it happened and how it turned into a breakup just didn't make sense.

"Let's break up," he said out of nowhere as you were getting yourself a glass of lemon tea. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you put down the glass on the counter. "Sorry. It's random."

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly. When you turned around, Nagi was already looking at you.

He nodded.

"I think," you begin, "I think he fell out of love."

Isagi stares at the virtual image of you on his screen, jaw slightly ajar as he finds the right words to say. You beat him to it, though.

"He didn't say much, but he could have been embarrassed to admit it because all this time, I've-I've been..."

"You've been loving him for God knows how long," Isagi finishes.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you turn to your side again. Your whole body hurts as you're hit with a new wave of emotions. Falling out of love? It happens to couples all the time, for many reasons. Usually one gets fed up by the other, or one ends up not being good enough for the relationship to move forward in the long run. Your heart sinks.

Suddenly, you're finding certain moments in your relationship with Nagi that can support this thought, and they don't stop coming even when Chigiri is knocking repeatedly on your apartment door.

Isagi is the one who alerts you of your friend's presence, but you're bundled up under the blanket as the shitty feeling resides in you. You need alcohol. Badly.

Chigiri manages to break into your apartment using a key that you have hidden on the upper ledge of your door. When he finds you rotting on the couch, he embraces you in a warm hug and uses a couple of back pats to snap you out of your senses, but they don't work.

Isagi has to go to work, so he hangs up the call after bidding you goodbye and giving an empathetic look that you don't notice. Chigiri sits with you in silence until you're ready to speak.

"Chigiri," you croak.

"Hm?" he hums.

"Did Nagi ever think I was horrible?"

He sighs.

"Of course not."

You snuggle your head into your hands.

"Then why are we in this situation right now?"

"As much as I want to help, you're the only one who can truly answer that," he explains.

"Could it be because I don't play the games he plays?" you mutter. Chigiri is quiet. "Or maybe because I wasn't too big on football when we met?"

He shakes his head.

"That's stupid. Nagi didn't even get into football until high school."

"But when we started out, I learned that we were much more different than I thought we were, so I was always catching up with him and his friends," you admit. "I didn't know how to play his games, so I tried to get into them just so we could spend time together even though I sucked and he looked happier playing with Reo and his girl. I couldn't understand football language until a few months of dating, either. No offense, Chigiri, but I couldn't understand any of your lingo and I would just sit and stand in your celebrations while nodding my head just to fit in!"

"You can't doubt your relationship because you don't game the way he does," Chigiri reasons, "and Nagi never expected you to know football like that."

"But wouldn't those be reasons to get tired of someone?" you ask. "What if... just what if he thought that it would have been nicer if he had someone who had the same interests as him?"

Chigiri sighs.

"Look. You've been awake for more than a day, so your brain isn't braining correctly. How about you get some sleep and we can talk about this again when you wake up?"

"But—"

"No buts!"

Standing up from the couch, Chigiri tugs the wool blanket off your body to force you up on your feet. Once successful, he drags you to your bedroom, where your pillows and comforter are sprawled on the mattress, just the way you left them a day ago. He forces you under the comforter, which you obey pretty quickly.

He fetches your water bottle from the kitchen and cranks up the room temperature. He doesn't leave until he's sure that you're asleep, but your mind stays running long enough for Chigiri to doze off first in your mini sofa bed by the door.

With the background sound of Chigiri's faint snores, you're left with even more time to think about what went wrong with your relationship with Nagi and how you can possibly move on. Every aspect of your life for the past few years that you've been together has had Nagi involved in it in some way. With the presence of the man you're no longer with appearing in every recent memory you have, how is letting go anywhere achievable?

By the looks of it (and your personal gut feeling), perhaps Nagi did get tired. Although the extent of this certainty falls a little below 50% because he didn't explain his reasons as well as you wanted him to.

Using the strength you have left in your drained body, you grab your phone from the nightstand and open your messages. You type a message that comes to mind as soon as you see his contact.

You hey, can we talk? Read 1:43 PM

Nagi reads the message fairly quickly. You're nervous upon realization. A few minutes pass, and the read receipt stays as it is until a small bubble pops up.

Nagi okay can we talk later?

The same nonchalant Nagi that you love is the same person who just replied.

You sure. as long as we get to talk, please

Nagi mhm of course

Whatever is about to happen, will happen. If he can explain as well as you want him to, then you're happy to accept it and move on. If he's sure of losing you, then maybe you should, too.

[lsunstreakerl]

in the interest of showcasing the other side of omegaverse, where things are not ideal, I have 900 words of what is not technically maxiel while also being maxiel. (circumstantially forced mating bites, anyone?) (follow up ficlet here)

Daniel's door flies open as Max spins and locks it, almost immediately starting to fill his room with the scent of distressed omega, so strong Daniel's growling before he even realizes he's moving, pushing Max back so he's between him and the door.

Max's fingers clutch at him, scent dipping into something vile and scared, so unlike anything Daniel has picked up from him before. His scent blockers are missing, and he's in lounge clothes, clearly having been interrupted from settling down for the night.

Daniel shoves him back firmly behind him, and Max is small enough to be almost completely obscured behind him, letting out a high pitched whine.

His blood is rushing into his ears, heartbeat thudding in his chest- he needs to get to an emergency rut blocker soon. Having an unmated omega barging into his space, distressed, needing protection- if he's not careful he'll hit a flash rut like a freight train.

He waits a minute or two, making sure there's no footsteps in the hallway, no threat outside his door, before he turns back to Max, eyes searching over his younger teammate for any kind of injury.

Daniel has never seen Max like this, panicking and scared, eyes glassy.

He pushes his scent, territorial defensiveness flooding the room, masking Max's own thick fear. Max won't look at him, and Daniel can see his own phone buzzing on the table a few feet away- he has multiple missed calls and messages, filling his entire screen, from Christian and Helmut and everyone in between.

It'll have to wait.

"Max."

Max whimpers, pressing back into the wall. He's trying to look even smaller than he is, all lanky limbs and the hints of omega curves he has yet to grow into.

Daniel's not sure what to do- Max is fiercely untraditional in most ways, but at this moment he's acting the most omega-like Daniel has ever seen from him, and his own instincts are itching under his skin.

He leans forward, bracketing Max between him and the wall, a physical barrier of safety, letting his scent fill the space between them. Max relaxes minutely, shoulders sinking down as Daniel dominates the situation.

"Max. Tell me what happened."

It's not quite an actual Command, but Daniel's not asking either- he's telling.

Max's scent sharpens again.

"It is. They are- the local government passed a law about unmated omegas-"

Not surprising, they're not exactly in a country known for championing omega rights. At the same time, Max should be protected. It's illegal for an omega to be out without a mated alpha or the pack alpha here, but since Max is high profile and international, it's never been an issue.

"-even the tourists or the athletes or me, and they are,"

Max's scent sharpens even higher, a sharp knife of fear and anxiety, a desperate need for protection.

"Daniel they are here, at the hotel, and if they find me they will take me to jail, and I'll never come out, I'll never-"

Daniel snarls, feels it rip out of him from low in his chest. This must be what his missed notifications are about- even if they could find a loophole for Max, those few hours in custody-

Absolutely not.

"They can't possibly get away with that."

Max is shaking, tiny little whines escaping from him. Daniel isn't sure he realizes he's doing it.

"But they will, and it won't- the FIA would not go against a government just for me- they didn't even want me here in the first place."

It clicks with an awful clarity that Max is right. The FIA won't fight for him like they would anyone else, he's already caused them enough scandal, but to allow something like this should be unacceptable.

Still, Daniel isn't sure what exactly he can do. He'll defend Max to the best of his ability, but he doesn't have any illusions of being able to fight off the local enforcers, not when the law is technically on their side.

There's the faint ding of the elevator down the hall, and then Daniel can hear heavy boots on the flooring, banging on the doors further at the end of the hallway.

Max flinches, darting forward into Daniel's chest, heart thundering against his ribs. Max smells terrified, and he looks so afraid, and Daniel-

The banging is getting closer. Maybe a door or two doors down from where they're at.

Max's fingers are digging into his shirt, eyes huge as he looks up at Daniel. His rut is bearing down on him at the edges of his vision.

There's a panicked yell from down the hall, a language Daniel doesn't speak shouted back and forth.

Max is barely twenty. He's young and he's fierce and he has an alpha he's been dancing around for years, an alpha that truly wants him, an alpha Daniel has had to hear about all season long.

Max is an unmated omega, in danger in a foreign country.

There's heavy footsteps coming to their door. Max's eyes are wide and glassy, smelling so strongly of fear Daniel's head spins.

Voices outside their door, a series of sharp knocks, and Max whimpers, eyes squeezing shut. Daniel's rut seeps into his brain, gives him the most obvious solution- Max's neck is pale and unmarked, not protected by patches or a collar, begging for teeth to sink into his skin.

The knocks grow more agitated, a loud banging that grates on Daniel's ears and instincts.

Max isn't stupid. There's a reason he came to Daniel and not anyone else. Daniel's sure that if F2 were in town he'd be silently begging a different alpha to make this impossible choice for him- but they're not, and the decision rests solely on Daniel's shoulders.

"Open up!"

"Max-"

Max swallows hard, lifting his chin slightly. He's terrified, and Daniel is running out of time.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

There's the sharp noise of the lock being broken.

Daniel bites.

[ronearoundblindly]

would you ever write an invisible reader? Like let’s say she’s an agent or a scientist. Quiet and stuff right? She always keeps to herself has the biggest crush on Steve but because she’s thinks she’s invisible she doesn’t ever think he might be interested too. There’s a mission she goes on and things go awry and she actually turns invisible. Something akin to how in the Fantastic Four movies they get their powers she gets this one? But it takes time to get under control. Steve thinks it’s his fault so he tries to help out. And through the the process of helping her gain back visibility she realizes Steve has seen her all along. Lol this really just came to my head when I was thinking about Steve using paint on someone’s body as a way to show them he thinks they’re art.

This. Is. Spectacular. I'm gonna fudge it a bit. Headcanon/stream of consciousness format. No warnings just canon-level "action." gif credit: @meidui

Erasure (Steve Rogers x junior agent!Reader)

My first instinct is to make it an ability to alter someone perception--i.e. you're constantly a little embarrassed of your input, so you tell people to 'forget you said that'--and let's say that constant hope that you won't be remembered badly is the innate trigger for your ability.

Probably a science experiment of Tony's gone wrong. He and the team are arguing about something that needs to be recovered before a damaged thing reaches critical mass. You sneak in to just grab what he wants and not waste time arguing. Tony doesn't know you're in there and locks the lab down until the dangerous pulse dissipates. (Steve doesn't know you're in there either because you popped in while he was facing and yelling at Tony, fwiw.) Maybe Tony saunters in once the doors open, finds you there with the part in your hand and knocked on your ass.

Your skin touches his as he reaches for you and the part. You jokingly tell him there's nothing to worry about, nothing to see here. You're surprised that he listens and walks off immediately, chatting and leading the team away down the hall to show them something else he's working on in the hangar bay.

Overall, once you catch your breath, you're fine. You don't want to go to the infirmary and tell them you did something so dumb.

Life continues.

Through a lot of trial and error, you realize what you can do--forcibly--by erasing people's memory of you being around. The head count for meetings is off. Several teammates you know you spoke to see security footage of you at the time and curiously remark that they don't recall you being there. Things like that. It works on everybody, or so you think.

There's a brainstorming session about how to infiltrate a possibly corrupt corporation's facility to gain intel. Everyone agrees to this elaborate rouse where two ripped agent dudes pose as janitors and blah blah blah. It's a little absurd.

You check the companies job listings, and knowing you qualify for one, submit an application the next day. The woman in HR who hires you doesn't work on the same floor as where you are technically snooping, and you can handle the work they actually want you to do in just a few hours a day, giving you a bunch of time to access nearly everywhere and nudge everyone to forget you were there.

The attempted break-in of fake janitors is the talk of the office on your last day, the one where you find the info Stark wanted to begin with, and then you quit, still quietly, returning to the Avengers the next morning.

You drop off the intel to Tony's office when he's not there, but just as you get situated back at your little desk, Steve comes up.

He looks concerned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the flimsy cubicle wall.

"Feeling better?"

You're so confused.

"You were out for over a week. Did you need to go to the hospital? Was a family member with you at least? You could have called in for help."

On impulse, you grab his arm and tell him not to worry about you, yet he...doesn't move. After a flawless use of the power hundreds of times in a row, you don't understand.

Blinking up at Steve, you blurt, "I should be erased. Why are you still noticing me?"

He's bewildered, sure, but Steve tucks his head and smiles shyly.

"Can't erase you, doll," he chuckles, so soft only you can hear. "I draw you in pen--" Steve taps his temple "--up here..."

He bends down, his hand gently gripping your arm and his cheek touching yours.

"...now where you been for a week?"

And then, yes, some beautiful closeness and Steve paints on you to highlight what parts he drew so permanently on his mind!

🤗

a/n: Thank you for sending in this lovely idea, nonnie! I'm sorry everything I'm writing has been short and convoluted the last...while, but this is such a sweet premise. (Also, my apologies if you really, really wanted straight invisibility as the power. Just send in another ask, and I'll try to come up with an alternate version!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[roxoxoxoxy]

hiii, can you do head canons for zb1 as your bf or how they act if they have a crush on you? either is fine :))

if you start off doing a line, pls start off w the maknae🙏🙏🙏

thanks in advance!!!!!!

Zb1 members if they had a crush on you

I'm gonna do all of them in one post 🙏🏼

Blah blah many typos blah blah not much grammar

Jiwoong

Probably the most obvious out of all of them, he's confident enough to approach you directly but because of his naturally flirty personality it's hard for you to pin point whether he's being serious or not. He'd use a classic pick up line on you and you'd just assume he was kidding. It gets to the point he's almost directly telling you he likes you but you're so used to his shenanigans you assume he's escalating the same joke. He wanted to be cool but ends up doing a direct confession because you won't take the fucking hint.

Zhang hao

He's so annoying about it. I just know it. Type of guy to be kinda mean to you to get your attention. He still goes with the good ol hair pulling method he used in middle school 🙏🏼🙏🏼. It's mostly in a light hearted way, like dropping something and making you pick it up or taking a bite of your food without asking. He doesn't really know how to flirt properly so he just hoped being around you enough and borderline begging for your attention will work.

Hanbin

Probably the most direct about his feelings for you, he likes taking his time to confess but if you ask whether it not he had feelings for you he won't hesitate to say yes. Also teases you a lot, something like holding something over his head so you have to reach up to get it. Pinches your cheeks too, doesn't mind showing that he likes you. I feel like he's not as afraid of rejection as everyone else.

Matthew

Ends up in the same boat as Jiwoong, he was too direct too fast and now you won't take him seriously. It's not just words though, he's an acts of service type of guy so he'll hold your bags and carry heavy things for you. That may or may not be because he's trying to show off his muscles. Adores talking to you so much, will talk your ear off so much that he'll accidently confess. It just spills out randomly in the middle of conversation.

Taerae

Avoid you. Like literally avoids you like you carry the plague. You're here? Sorry something just came up. So unbelievably shy around you, he cares so much about what you think of him that he would rather just not find out. You're under the impression you did something to upset him so you try to reconcile and apologize but it's borderline impossible because he keeps disappearing. You eventually track him down and try to work things out, he feels guilty for making you think you upset him and his feelings come spilling out.

Ricky

Buys things for you, like you're out with a group of friends and spot something you like, he'll immediately buy it and then act like it's not a big deal because he's just so cool and chill. He's screaming on the inside though. You assumed he was just being nice but after you went out to dinner with some friends and he payed for your food and noone else's you kinda got the hint. You'll have to confess first though because he's shy.

Gyuvin

I think he's more of a easy going guy in romantic encounters, in the sense that he'll take things slow. Tries to be your friend first and really get to know you, shows you he likes you by prioritizing you. Things like grabbing your favourite drink when he goes to the vending machine, opening up drink cans before handing them to you so you don't damage your nails, focusing extra hard when you say a thing. It's one of those situations where everyone knows he's smitten with you but you're oblivious.

Gunwook

Gets so shy around you, the tough guy persona doesn't hold up at all. He's practically giggling and kicking his feet in your presence. Looks at you like you're the only person in the room no matter the situation. It's so noticeable to everyone around you because he has the biggest doppiest grin on whenever you're around. Doesn't take too long to confess because it's so hard for him to contain how much he likes you.

I need to make a masterlist soon </3. If you have any more suggestions my ask box is currently open!!

[nowimjustastranger]

I am absolutely loving your sctmo au! It’s just so interesting. And I don’t know if you’ve answered this before, if so please feel free to ignore this. But what would sctmo Ford do if he came across a Stan that was in danger of dying at another Ford’s hands but it’s because that Stan is trying to kill his Ford and that Ford is just trying to survive?

Like, this other Ford had wanted to reconnect with his Stan and had invited him into his home. But this Stanley had become extremely resentful and hateful of his Ford getting him kicked out. So when he got the invitation he took it as a chance to get payback or something.

That's certainly a messy situation. But in these circumstances, I can see Ford defending himself a little too well. Maybe he shoves Stan too hard and he trips, braining himself on the corner of a sturdy table on the way down. Maybe he hits Stan over the head with something, forgetting his strength in the panic-fueled adrenaline surge. Either way, Stan's fate is to accidentally die by his brother's hands during this confrontation.

First, Watchdog Ford would restrain Stan, so he could question both of them about what was going on. They'd both shout at him, angry with each other. Watchdog Ford would open a wormhole under Stan to drop him off at a nearby safehouse in the multiverse, partly to keep Stan out of trouble and partly to test Ford.

When Ford asked where Watchdog Ford had taken his brother, equal parts wary and curious, Watchdog Ford would answer dismissively.

"Does it matter? He attacked you. He won't be a problem anymore."

Now, depending on Ford responded, Watchdog Ford would either return Stan to his brother or relocate him. If Ford displayed an unwillingness to simply let a random stranger have his brother (even if said brother had tried to kill him), then Watchdog Ford would bring Stan back and get them the help they needed to purge the bad blood between them (basically, lots of therapy and communication).

However, if Ford was perfectly fine with his brother being taken fuck knows where by a stranger, Watchdog Ford would simply tell Ford that he wouldn't have to worry about his brother coming for him because he'd never see Stan again. And if that information still didn't set Ford straight, Watchdog Ford would simply leave a recording device with a few rough moments from Stan's time of the street to put things into perspective for Ford before leaving.

The next problem would be explaining the situation to Stan, which would be painful because Stan's hurt at what was essentially the second time that his brother turned his back on him would clearly be buried under a substantial amount of anger. The tears would come eventually though. Watchdog Ford would console him as best he could considering Stan doesn't want to feel better, wallowing in his rage and misery.

"That particular Stanford might not want you, but I know one who does."

Watchdog Ford broaches the topic or relocation expecting another explosion of anger, so imagine his surprise when Stan simply says he doesn't care, sounding so utterly defeated that alarm bells go off in Watchdog Ford's head. Not caring is a dangerous mindset for a Stan, because all they did was care. It's what they did best no matter what they might say on the contrary.

Now Watchdog Ford has a new issue to address before Stan did something irreversible.

[theysaidhush]

hii, I just saw your ot8 skz x reader reaction. Could you make one of these for enhypen? It might be a bit nsfw?

My boys won't hesitate to come out for you boy.

➝ OT7!Enhypen x 8thMember!Reader ➝ A journalist asks weird questions, your boys gives weird answers - well, not so much, they are still idols, but they really want to. ➝ A bit suggestive, swear words?

➝ 1,4k w

You don't mind people asking about your genre. Well, you usually don't mind it. Whenever and wherever, you really don't mind it. But sometime - like, right now, you just want to rip your hair off your scalp and yell until people's eardrum explode. Yeah, it's either this or that, there's no in-between when it comes to this question.

And unfortunately for you, the second option seems to be the least effective given the situation, yet it is the one who appeals you, very much - way too much.

"How hard are the choreographies for you?"

You think the addition of those pitiful words 'for you' is really unnecessary. Well, the person asking you this is almost fifty for God's sake, they should know how to behave like a proper adult, shouldn't he? But here you are, smiling because 'no, you can't answer misogynistic remarks or it will be detrimental to your reputation'. But what about their reputation, huh? You absolutely hate the fact that Korea is one of those countries where most of the men treats women like they are dirt under their feet. Did they came out of their father's a**?!

"Oh, I can assure you that I have no problems with the choreographies. And even if I do have some troubles some time, I just stay in the practice room in order to get better and show the very best side of myself for our fans."

You practiced your speech, you know it like the back of your hand - well you need to when you are a girl in a boy group, in Korea, what a pain. The interviewer seems upset about the way you react to this awful question - who even employed him? This is a question a baby could ask, did he even work on his interview? And you smile. It's bitter-sweet because you don't want to smile, but you enjoy seeing the tip of his ears turning red.

You just know that Sunoo, who's sitting right in front of you, is smiling like a little psychopath - from your point a view, fans tend to think that he has a pretty smile, you too, but sometimes you just know that he's not smiling for the good reason; like now, he's just making fun of the old man in front of you.

"Yeah sh's very hardworking! She always stay up late in order to practice."

Jake spit out this lie like he was born to do so. But it does not surprises you, Jake is used having his way with everyone, he just have to blink those round pretty puppy eyes and everyone believe whatever nonsense that come out of his mouth. You both know that you're probably this first member that gets home when practice is done - you're a bit lazy, but just a bit.

Jake defending you was just the right thing for the interviewer to babble the rest of his nonsense.

"I heard you all live in the same dorm? Isn't it a bit hard to accommodate to her way of living? Do you guys share a bathroom?"

You laugh out loud because you just can't help it. You're glad that your occidental fans will be on your side because else, you would be in trouble. At this point you don't really know if this journalist want a scoop or you to get angry in front of the cameras, only to post it later and label you as disrespectful.

"Yeah, I'm glad we can talk about it. She uses all the hot water and stay in the bathroom for hours! Women"

Jay is the first to answer the odd question with the exact answer the journalist was aiming at: a cliché. The way the American is looking at you is just enough to tell you that he concluded the same thing. Once again, you notice how the two native-english people were the first to speak. The three of you are not used to this king of treatment, you guess it's the reason why they're the first to speak up.

"Not longer than Sunoo."

The ever so innocent Sunghoon tries to contest the inside joke that you and Jay were having, fearing that it might upset you and be inappropriate given the situation you were in. He tries to defend you, it's cute.

"Hey, that's not true!"

You all look at him because what is 'not true' is what he just said. And he even have the nerve to act surprised and outraged - well, as much as is cute pretty face allows him to be, you only see a little dumpling growing its non-existing eyebrows.

"Well, maybe a bit. How else my skin could be this smooth?"

"I must admit that I'm a bit jealous. Sunoo is prettier than me, and im a girl!"

You insist on the last word. It's like a big fuck you to the bald man in front of you - he's not really bald, but he deserves to be bald. Sunoo turns all the way to send you a heart with his fingers - you really like how his cheeks get fuller as he smiles brightly at you, he looks pure. He looked far from pure when those same cheeks were pressing on your inner thighs- Oh. This is definitely not the time nor the place.

You don't really know what happened but the interview continue without any other dumb questions and you're allowed to breath for a few minutes. Well, you try. It's like your mind is polluted with the exact images the grown man was accusing you off - well those accusations, the second one only, are kinda true. You can't remember a day you were alone in the bathroom, and it's even harder to remember when you were not corrupting every once of that same bathroom with...impure things?

You all get back to the changing room, waiting for the company car to arrive.

"What a prick."

Sunoo is the first one to talk, almost lying toward the couch to have at least a sit - or alf a seat, both option seems appealing given the fact that he has to compete against seven people for the comfort of a cushion under their bum; the chair were not comfortable.

"Yeah, I hope our fans give him a bad reputation. They're quite good at that."

"This is mean and you know it."

You answer Heeseung while crossing your arms, almost sulking at the mere idea that this man would be hunted down for just being raised like this.

"Yeah? He has nor right talking to you like that. And impplying those things."

"Implying? Was he?" you chuckle and uncross your arms, eating toward your jacket that was left on one of the coat rack in the corner of the room. A brief flashback of approximately two days ago floods your memory and you're left breathless and a bit hot and bothered at the memory of Sunghoon's lips on your neck, his hand between your thighs. You are grateful you are not facing, otherwise you wouldn't hear the end of it - they can be persistent in their teasing, you only Lind it when you are the victim (you are still teasing Ni-ki about those pre-pre-debut Twice's video, you might the worse of them all).

"Yeah, but they don't know that." Jake says, unbothered by the whole situation. This little piece of shit is probably the person who doesn't even deserve to talk about this subject. Any chance he gets, he's stealing the air from your lungs - and your panties, but only when you are in the dormitory.

"Still, no one deserves to have their life ruined because of the way they think, if that makes sense?"

"Your Korean is getting better."

You smile softly at Jungwon, patting his head as you walk around the mini-couch, "Your English too."

You really want to hug him, or sit on Jay's laps because it's literally the best sit ever, or burrow your frame into Sunghoon's warm embrace. But you can't really do that here. Anyone can enter the room and everyone can take pictures, you wouldn't risk it.

But you don't mind it. There's always time for you to enjoy the presence of your boyfriends. And you can also enjoy the way they fight tooth and nail for your 'honor' - their words, not yours.

[radioappleheadcanons]

Lucifer does the thing where he'll get angry at Alastor for something he did in a dream. It drives Alastor crazy because Lucifer's way of dealing with it is to ignore him and of course, Alastor hates it. But he has no idea what he's done so he can't figure out how to fix it. When Lucifer does finally snap at him about it, Alastor is ticked off because he is not apologizing in his non-apologizing way for something he didn't do. This just upsets the king more. It goes on for a while before Charlie corners Alastor and explains that for a man whom dreams are such a big part of him, both in that, he's a dreamer and that sometimes dreams aren't just dreams, it is very much so a big deal.

Vaggie, Husk, and Angel are all assigned to make Lucifer understand why Alastor is offended (Charlie made all three of them do it, under Nifty gaze). They are much less enthused and less in-depth but eventually, they manage to convince him that it's because Alastor was offended that he thought the redhead would do that. They end up taking it out and putting it behind them, though occasionally they still have tiffs over it. It's pretty fast to resolve though, because Lucifer will give Alastor the details of the dream and Alastor will assure that it won't happen. Or at least give the situation where he would do it.

This works well, at least until Lucifer finds a recording of Al and Vox singing Stayed Gone, which he takes great offense to because Alastor picking another 'rival' is something the man has assured him won't happen.

So, he was not happy about the fact that Alastor clearly had something going on with this other random demon. The others try to convince him that the TV Overlord isn't a threat, to which he responds that of course, he's not a threat. He's the bloody king sinners can’t be a threat to him. But that doesn't mean he can't be upset that Alastor lied to him. He's very huffy about it, and very snappy when it comes to the radio demon.

Alastor is very annoyed by this and demands to know what he did to earn this treatment. Only he keeps getting told that he should know and that the king refuses to speak with a lair. The others explain what happened and Alastor is horrified that Lucifer thinks he has something going on with Vox of all people. He immediately sets to rectify it. Only the one place where he has enough power to keep Lucifer there is his radio tower, and when Lucifer is trying to leave, they sort of wrestle and start broadcasting.

The Whole of the pride ring hears the radio demon assure someone, who is far away enough from the mic to not be clear or recognizable, but close enough that they know there's someone in the booth with Alastor, that "No I don't have any other rivals and why on earth would you think that?…….. Well yes, I did cut into the song the TV overlord was singing that it wasn't a rivalry thing it was him defending his honor and name! I've never started anything with him, only replied when he was attacked, and even then, it is always the bare minimum, can't so you see how little effort I put into the song?…….. You have nothing to worry about darling, you're the only one I consider to be worthy of being a true rival, please stop being angry and ignoring me……. It's horrible and it's not making you any happier either."

The voice gets a little clearer as Lucifer gets closer to the mic, to Alastor, and farther away from the door. It's then that he notices the on-air light and points it out. Alastor cusses, a first for many to hear, and ends it. The whole pride ring is in uproar trying to figure out who was in his booth with him. Vox meanwhile is fuming because excuse me? What do you mean we're not rivals? If anyone isn't a rival it's whoever this interloper is!

[radioisodoped]

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

[kgymstlle]

with love, venus

apocalypse au / tsukishima x fem! reader

cw: mentions of death and suicide

— a letter to the boy who you utterly fell inlove with during the end of the world.

my dearest kei,

if you're reading this, then you've followed my instructions to only open this letter only either when i'm gone, or if we've reached inside the walls of the safe haven. before anything else, please don't blame yourself if something bad happens to me. we both know we couldn't do anything about this goddamn apocalypse.

meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. sure, we didn't exactly have a good start (you were very rude to me) but only because i tried to steal what you were trying to loot in the abandoned supermarket where we met. i admit, it really takes a lot of patience to tolerate someone as spontaneous as me. despite me annoying the hell out of you every single day for the past six months since we met, i felt the affection you give me become stronger every single day that passes by.

i never thought that i'd ever fall inlove again, especially in this situation. i distinctly remember being in denial when i was questioning myself about how i felt towards you. i didn't want to admit it, because if i did then it would actually be real.

you kept me sane during the literal end of the world, and that's actually quite impressive. i can no longer imagine a life without you, kei. i know that we're lucky enough if we get to live another day in this chaos, and if we ever make it to the safe haven i want to settle down and grow old with you. god i really hope you won't get the chance to read this letter for the bad reason. for the first time in my life, i'm actually scared to die. i've finally found a purpose to keep living, but at what cost? why does it have to be under this circumstance?

if it comes down to it i want you to be the one who gets to witness dawn again. you've already been through enough, i've seen it with my own eyes. you've already suffered too much pain losing your companions. you deserve to live a tranquil life, my kei. i really need to get you to the safe haven. it is my only goal left.

as i'm writing this, the time is around midnight, and you are sleeping soundly beside me. we have less than a mile left to the safe haven, but i'm afraid the next area on our route is heavily infested with those things. we'll leave right before dawn. we head west and follow the bright star that follows the sun after setting venus. i've always thought of it as one of the stars, not until you corrected me about it. you said that venus is the brightest planet and that it was based off the roman goddess of beauty and love. you call me that every now and then since the moment you kissed me for the first time confessed but i'm not quite too sure if the goddess would appreciate that. nonetheless, i appreciate it.

only read this next part if i meet my fate:

don't do anything stupid, kei. don't go after me, don't try to fight off those things if we get swarmed, don't bring their attention to you— run. saving me wouldn't matter anymore if i got bitten.

i'll most likely ask you to kill put me down if it's too late for me. i really hope you don't hesitate. if you do, i'll do it myself. i'd rather you not see me as one of those things.

when you're sure that i'm no longer breathing, take all the essential items in my bag. even my share of the supplies and food.

go on without me. i know you well enough that you'd consider still bringing me to the safe haven, but your chances or surviving will increase more if you aren't dragging a body behind your back. just leave me.

take my necklace and wear it always.

when you get to the safe haven, that's only where i want you to make a grave for me. and when you do, make sure to change my last name to yours. i want to be remembered that way forever.

lastly, i hope you live a great life, my love. i love you more than you could ever imagine. i promise i'll always meet you in our next lives. you deserve to live the rest of this life in peace.

alright, i'm about to wake you up. god you look so cute when you sleep. it makes me want to wake up next to you each morning. i love you.

p.s. - if we ever actually make it there together, let's get married! okay that's all, i really need to wake you up now, we've got a tough journey ahead of us.

with love, venus