#and i come back to... idk what to even call this

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

ur writing is so yummy!! i had a rlly hot idea idk tho lol

Logan holding the reader in a headlock and absolutely ravaging them 🤤

YUMMY?? Anon this is a compliment that simply makes me want to be at your beck and call 😘 and that, my dear (gn), is a very hot idea indeed. Thank you for the ask!! I’m sorry it took me like five years to finish it 😅 (also, its not the best, I’m sorry for that too 😭) but like life is… 😀😀💪💪💀💀

Anyways.

Minors, do NOT interact.

-ps: imagine any Logan you’d like! Also, comments are highly appreciated!! Beyond that, if you have a request of your own, please fire away!

Warnings: erm, I think the request has that one covered- but smut, piv, mentions of multiple positions, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight degrading?, sweet!logan even though he’s very rough, safe words. Afab reader.

————————————————————————

As far as sex with you went, Logan had one very important rule for himself: “don’t be rough.”

For as much as a part of him wanted bend your cute little self over a table and fuck you senseless until you had nothing on your mind other than his name, he knew he shouldn’t. He was worried he would break you. Genuinely worried. After all, it might be fun in the moment but the bruises from his adamantium skeleton? You probably wouldn’t be able to sit right or walk right for a week, and that’s not an exaggeration.

That’s not to say that the sex isn’t already fantastic. He’ll thrust into you with slow yet powerful thrusts that leave you shaking with every orgasm. He’ll put you in strenuous positions- time to join up with yoga!- and set every single nerve ending on fire.

But like him, you couldn’t help but want to see him let the animal out. You’d been having wet dreams about it recently, begging him to be rough with you.

Eventually he gave in, saying that this was to be a one time thing. This took SO much convincing, and it had to be on a night where you both had nowhere to be for the next couple days. Once that was settled, he finally, begrudgingly said ok, telling you that you would have to tell him to stop if you needed to. You agreed, and that’s how you landed in your bed, already on your third orgasm simply from him roughly stretching you out with his fingers and tongue.

God does he love the way your face screws up into that pleasure filled smile with your eyes closed tight. The way your head nestles into the pillows as you try to get away from him, not because you don’t like but because it just feels too good.

“L-Logan,” you whine, clutching at his hair. He groans into your cunt at the tugging, not relenting. Your legs have been quivering since your second orgasm, and show no signs of stopping.

“Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart. Said you wanted it rough,” he mutters, before moving away from you and settling on top of you. You whine at the loss of contact even though you’re extremely excited for what’s to come.

“You know your safe word, right?” his eyes are black with lush. You nod. “Can you tell it to me, baby?” he prods. You oblige.

“Good girl,” he mutters, stroking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. “My good girl.”

You’re positively soaked, so it’s no surprise that Logan’s able to slip in without any resistance, immediately hitting the deepest parts inside of you. You moan loudly, already on cloud nine.

“You like that, sweet girl? Well you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he smirks, and that’s the last thing he says before pulling out all the way and slamming back into you, making you yelp his name with delight.

He takes you so many ways- missionary, doggy, mating press, screwdriver, the works, until finally…

He wrestles you so that your back is against his broad chest, his cock splitting you from behind as you’re forced to look in the mirror. And then one of his beautiful, muscular arms flexes, forcing you in a headlock for support but all it does is pour gasoline on the flame of pleasure he had been stoking within you.

“I love your arms, Logan,” you tell him stupidly as he thrusts up into you. You couldn’t even tell how many times you or he had come, and you’re so out of it that you can barely register your mixed releases seeping out of your tight hole.

“I know you do,” he teases through a grunt. “I seen you looking at them all the time. Thought you might like this.”

It’s the fact that he actually thinks about what you might like before doing it that makes you come yet again, and he chucked, holding you close but his pace unfaltering.

“Makin’ so many messes, dolly. That good?” he says right in your ear before nipping at its lobe.

“Yes,” you cry, overstimulated but feeling as though you’re on cloud nine.

You see your fucked out self in the mirror, but you’re far more focused on Logan. Logan who’s face is scrunched up with determination, his jaw clenched as he brings your hips down to meet his every thrust. Logan, who’s cock is visibly stretching you open with every single hard, fast, deep thrust.

It gets to the point where you don’t think you can take it anymore because it just feels too good. Your head is lulling against his chest, relying on his arm to support it. A dumb, fucked out smile rests on it. But then he starts rubbing in your puffy clit, and you cry. “Logannnn I can’t- I- it’s too much,” you pout, but he just chuckles right into your ear.

“Whats the matter? You been begging for this for so long and now you can’t take it? Poor baby,” he coos mockingly, his pace never faltering.

“Logan!” you whine, clenching on him as hard as you can. He grunts.

“You need your safe word, baby?”

“No!”

“Then shut the fuck up and take it,” he scolds, somehow maneuvering you so that you’re on your hands and knees, his arm still around your neck as he snaps his hips against your. You think your legs are going to give out, but you don’t care because it just feels too good. You’re whining his name over and over again, your cheek smug against his strong arm as he abuses your cunt.

“We should do this more often, huh? Let me fuck into you like you’re a dirty whore,” he grins, impossibly picking up the pace. You clench at his words. “You really are a slut for me, huh, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp, your eyes screwing shut as he brings you to the edge again. You’re past the point of overstimulation, your limp body unable to fight back as he bruises your hips with his own.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper again by pressing his fingers to your pathetic clit. He expertly maneuvers his deft fingers against it, and you cry, unable to keep the tears of pleasure at bay any more. He tuts, speeding up his pace in response and all you can do is lie back and take it, powerless to say or do anything. A few minute more and you come again with a weak groan, your legs fully numb. He follows suit, finishing and stilling inside of you.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks after taking a moment to catch his breath. Your brain is still fuzzy, your body limp against his. You’re barely conscious enough to register the soreness between your legs, much less his rumbled words.

“Baby?” he asks, obviously concerned.

“Mmm,” you acknowledge him. Tears are still slipping from your eyes, residuals from how good he was making you feel.

“There she is,” you can all but feel his smile. He slips out of you and you whine, your cunt weeping for him, leaking what is definitely too much cum.

“What a gorgeous sight, he meets your eyes in the mirror in front of your bed.

“Mhm,” you agree. He moves to stand, knowing that you need to rest, but naturally you pout as he gets off of the bed. “Need to get you cleaned up, sweet girl,” he says gently, brushing your sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Kiss?” you ask sweetly, your watery eyes impossible to say no to.

“Where d’you want a kiss?” he teases, kissing your forehead. “Here?” You pout, tilting your head up toward his lips. “Oh, I see. Here?” he kisses your nose. You make an annoyed noise, and he takes pity on you. “Ohh, here,” he says, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

Because even though Logan has that power to be rough, when he loves on you, it’ll always be sweet.

[rotthepoet]

I saw you say you have writers block so feel absolutely zero pressure to do anything with this, it was just a thought I felt like you could appreciate w/ me! I saw a Ron work forever ago (cannot remember the author unfortunately) where he was your bestie and you went on a date and came back unsatisfied from your date/hookup so he took it upon himself to take care of you but can you just for a moment imagine that situation with bestie Theo 🥹

He’s already angry because you’re his girl, and pretty much everyone in the school knows that so he cannot believe the audacity of some boy asking you on a date to begin and then for you to come back teary eyed and frustrated?! He felt like he could kill the guy for it. But obviously he’s not going to leave you like that- he’d never. So he fingers you with his pretty, thick, ringed fingers until you’re so relaxed against the bed that you’re not even sure you could stand. BUT You want more. He’s so hot and god the things he whispered in your ear while he had his fingers inside you were to die for. So you ever so sweetly blink up at him, batting your eyes so cutely, and ask him to pretty please fuck you. And of course, he happily obliges.

Other boys don’t ask you on dates anymore.

Maybe you call him daddy idk I can’t really make up my mind if that would be something he’d rock with or not

oMG I DO APPRECIATE THISSS I LOVE IT

nasty ass Slytherin boys i love toxic and manipulative men 🙏

Because Theo is literally pissed all week, Mattheo keeps making a joke that hes on the rag, because theo is unfocused, smoking constantly, adhd off the wall, shits going down

If the slytherin dorms didnt have stone walls there would 100% be a hole in them.

Regardless, He’s fucking pissed. Especially the day that uou go on the date. Hes staying up all night, pacing in the common room because his ruminating was too loud for his dorm mates, and in you walk, heels in your hand, lips downturned and obviously pissed off.

And omg theo is about to kill a man. Because why the fuck do you look so fucking upset??? Holy shit.

“Bella, whats wrong? What did he do?”

“It’s not what he did, its what he didnt do. Couldn’t do, i guess.”

“Oh?”

“…”

“Oh.”

And i mean. Theo cant just leave his girl hanging, all needy and clearly unsatisfied. He approaches you, slowly, afraid you might run away. He holds your face in one hand, leaning into your ear and promising he’ll make it all better. That he’ll step up as your best friend, this is what friends are for, right?

And god when his lips are kissing down your neck, biting and sucking over the marks your failed date had left, making them his own, you cant even argue.

So its really no surprise when he has you in your bed, your dorm miraculously empty for this time of night, and uour back is to his chest, and his fingers are spreading apart your folds, and he’s mumbling so sweetly in your ear. And fuck its so hood. Its SO good. You’re finishing in now time, pussy spasming around his long fingers, the once cold metal rings now warm and stained with your arousal.

But its not enough. Nothing will ever be enough when it comes to theo. And youre so fucking whiney and pathetic and how coukd theo say no when you practically beg him to fuck you, to fill uou to the brim with his hard, heavy cock.

I mean, he would never have said no anyways.

And so there you are, face down in bed, your tears being kissed away as Theo brings you to release over and over again, your core all puffy and sensitive from overstimulation.

He isn’t stopping until half your neck is purple with his love bites, and hes sucked a makeshift “T” into your shoulder, marking you as his.

[cesilly]

- you owe me

hamzah x reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contains: arguing, swearing, oral (fem receiving)

my first actual post don’t come for me ok idk how this works and idk if it’s too long cause idk when to stop ok thx

————————————————————————

“god, fuck!”

you’re rudely startled awake in the middle of the night by a string of loud cusses and grumbles. you quickly sit up straight, stiffening as you glance around the dark bedroom belonging to mandy and martin, in their apartment where you were currently sleeping for the night while the two of them were on vacation.

a little frightened, you hear the cats begin meowing loudly as heavy footsteps can be heard throughout the living room.

“shh, shh!” you can make out the sound of frantic pleads for the animals to stay quiet when you get out of bed and press your ear up against the door.

“where is it? martin, fucking call me back right now. jesus!”

you continue to listen, and now you recognize the voice.

hamzah.

you and hamzah have somewhat of a complicated relationship, due to both of you always being around this apartment, especially when you’re trying to hang out with mandy and he’s trying to hang out with martin. the couple has tried easing you and hamzah into being friends, yet you both have no interest in being around each other because of this annoyance that has only grown between you two over time.

you gently push the door open, being met with the humid summer air that resides outside of the bedroom, where you have a fan plugged in to help you sleep. you catch sight of him, pacing around the kitchen and living room, searching with his phone’s flashlight.

he doesn’t notice you.

you think about the easiest way to make your presence known without scaring the shit out of him, so you decide to just flip the switch to turn the hallway light on.

“huh?” he exclaims anxiously, his eyes quickly darting over and landing on you. “what the hell are you doing here?”

his voice is harsh and unforgiving as he shines the flash into your eyes, not even giving you time to adjust to the overhead light.

you shield your vision from the brightness, letting out a groan. “i could ask you the same thing. i just needed a place to sleep. which you’re interrupting right now, by the way.” you clear your throat.

“and shine that thing somewhere else, please.”

he grumbles and tosses his phone down onto the kitchen counter with a loud clatter. “i don’t have time for you right now. this is great, this is great!” he rambles. you watch him with furrowed brows as he tangles his own fingers in his hair and tugs on it, his back to you, seeming as if he’s struggling to keep his composure.

“what is your problem?” you ask, already not appreciating the way he’s speaking to you.

“no, no, you don’t get it.” he mutters. “if martin took the fucking key, if he took the fucking key with him, he’s dead. i can’t find it. i have so much work in there, and i can’t find the goddamn key.” his frustration increases with every word, as he stalks over to the couch and throws the pillows to the floor, feeling a for this key.

you assume he’s talking about the key to the studio that him and martin share for projects and whatnot, but you couldn’t care less about that. him being here has already aggravated you enough, you don’t want to help him at all.

“this is not my problem. i’m going back to sleep so, keep it down, okay?” you say with an small, sarcastic smile.

“no, no. you’re here, you’re going to help me.” he replies, his back still turned towards you.

this makes you laugh. “um, no? i’m not going to do anything for you.”

in less than a second, he turns and around and he’s suddenly an inch away from you. the room is almost unbearingly hot, the humidity making your skin sticky. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

his voice sounds like a warning when he speaks again. “whether you help me or not, i’m not leaving until i find this thing, so you’re most likely not sleeping any more tonight unless i do. if you’d just fucking look, maybe we’d get done faster and i won’t have to be around you any fucking longer than i’ve already had to.”

you stare up at him for a few moments, realizing that it technically would be better for you if you at least looked around a little bit.

“you’re sure that it’s here?”

“yes.” he says, with his jaw clenched. “fucking obviously.”

“fine.” you say affirmatively. “you’ll fucking owe me if i find it for you.”

“fine.” he replicates your tone, heading towards the bedroom without another word.

•••

it takes you over an hour, but you find it.

the key was shoved under a notebook in the drawer of martin’s desk. stupid fucking spot.

you clutch the small key attatched to a little chain in your hand, walking into the bedroom where this man is currently looking underneath the bedside table. you stand and watch his frantic demeanor, fighting back a laugh before somehow he senses your presence and turns to look at you.

“what?” he says impatiently, his knuckles going white as he grips the edge of the small nightstand.

you smile and let the key drop from your palm, holding onto the little chain and dangling it around like it’s a prize you’re showing off.

he immediately stands and steps toward you, his face lighting up as he snatches the key from you and simultaneously grips your waist with his other hand. he doesn’t even realize where his hand automatically flew, he’s just staring at the key, looking puzzled.

“where? what?” he mumbles.

you stay silent, frozen in place. you’ve never come close enough to this man to let him touch you, and you don’t know why his hand is making you feel nervous.

hamzah snaps out of it and looks at you, then down at his hand, retracting his arm silently. he pockets the key in his shorts. “where?” he repeats, looking down at you.

“desk.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he shakes his head. “it makes me even more annoyed with you because you found it before i did.” he says.

you chew on your lip. “doesn’t matter.” you say with a straight face.

he cocks his head to the side, looking aggravated, confused, and curious all at once.

“you owe me.” you remind him with a slight nod, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead as result of the heat in the small apartment.

“right, right.” he nodded. “what do you want?”

as you think of a response, he looks at you like an animal hunting prey.

“what are you willing to give me?” you reply.

“don’t ask me that.” a breathy laugh escapes him, and he rakes his hands through his hair like he’s stressed. “you have no fucking idea.”

“i don’t?”

“no, not a goddamn clue.” he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

the sound of your own heartbeat rings in your ears, your pulse quickening. you don’t know why this ongoing tension you’ve had with him suddenly feels different, like a switch has been flipped.

“what do you mean?” is all you can manage to say as you look at him and his bewildered face, seeming like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

“what do i mean? jesus, what do i mean? yeah, fuck, i can show you what i fucking mean, okay?” he grabs your face in his hands. “you bother me so much. i can’t fucking figure out what it is with you.”

you hold onto his wrists, meeting his eyes, seeing his expression that seems almost challenging.

“god, just shut up.” i whisper urgently.

he pauses for a few seconds, but quickly makes up his mind. “yeah. ‘kay.” he responds too casually, like he can read your thoughts. he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “can i?”

you nod.

“no, say it.” his voice is barely audible.

“yes, hamzah.”

his lips then press to yours with the urgency that his tone was lacking.

his hands travel to your waist, gripping harshly as his lips overtake yours. “fuck.” he starts to mutter as he breaks away repeatedly, like he’s trying to control himself but he just can’t stop coming back to your lips.

“m’gonna,” another kiss. “give you,” another. “what you deserve.”

you exhale against his lips, snaking your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist when his grip tightens on you and he lifts you up.

he carries you to the couch where he had thrown all the pillows from earlier, sitting you on the edge. he slides his hands under your shirt as he sinks down onto his knees.

watching him kneel before you finally makes it painfully clear what he was intending on doing, because this was what he’s willing to give you.

“oh,” you whisper.

he looks up while he’s in the middle of positioning his head between your legs.

“what?” his brows drop. “not good?”

you gaze down at him. the way he got into this position so quickly, it gives you the impression that maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought about this.

you start to have doubts, but watching him stare up at you on his knees..

jesus christ, why the fuck not?

“no. s’good.” you nod, lifting your hips up off the surface of the couch. “c’mon.”

his lips part and he lets out an exasperated sigh, wasting no time before he tugs down your shorts and underwear. his breath hitches as your entire lower half is exposed.

“i hate you.” he says. “i hate you, and you’re so beautiful. c’mere,”

he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and extends his fingers toward you.

“hold my hand.”

your heartbeat is overwhelmingly fast, and you can barely believe the words you’re hearing and the sight before you. your thoughts aren’t even coherent right now, so you decide to ignore them and interlace your fingers with his, your hands clasped together as they now rest upon your stomach.

“squeeze as hard as you fucking want,” he murmurs, finally leaning all the way in to kiss the inside of your thighs.

your grip automatically tenses, your body reacting embarrassingly quick to the fact that his lips are so fucking close to tasting you.

you hear and feel him laugh against your skin like it’s a million tiny electric shocks in your stomach. aside from all your desire, you still feel frustrated with the fact that you hate each other so much, but he’s still buried between your thighs right now.

not just frustrated, you’re angry. he owes you.

“hamzah,” you breathe out, holding onto his hand so tight, you feel as if your bones are touching his. “just fucking- ugh,”

you rake your other hand through his hair, easing his face towards your pussy that’s painfully aching for him by now.

you see his eyes flash up at you for a split second before he responds almost immediately, latching himself onto your pussy and eating you out like his life fucking depended on it.

a constant waterfall of gasps, moans, incoherent mumbles interrupted by groans of his name come spilling from your lips as you feel his tongue working against you, his nose rubbing against your clit.

he doesn’t let go of your hand once, making sure he glances up at you every few seconds to watch your pretty face become damp with sweat, and see how your chest rises and falls with each sharp breath.

“so fucking good,” his voice vibrates against you. “how could i ever hate you, really?”

you can barely hear those last few words, but you’re too caught up in the moment to actually process what they mean.

“i feel, mm,” you can hardly put a sentence together when he’s stimulating every single part of your body so perfectly. his blunt nails gently trace along your leg that he holds over his shoulder, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely devouring you right now.

“hamzah, i’m..”

“i know, beautiful. let it out,” he groans.

“oh, shit, fuck!”

your orgasm possesses your whole body within seconds. your thighs trembling, sweat dripping down your chest, your face flushed, your hand still interlocked with his as you release.

it’s silent in the humid room as both of you regain your composure, hamzah taking it upon himself to lay his head against your thigh.

“hamzah..”

he perks up.

“i still don’t like you, you know.” you breathe out with a lazy smile.

his lips spread into a grin. “shut up.”

————————————————————————

[deathvalleyqueen]

listen no matter how convinced in my bones it was Illario that betrayed our beautiful mullet man, it could be someone else. Maybe but really logically think about this. Who within the Crows would gain the most with Lucanis gone? Not emotionally - I am talking about position and power. Illario. Viago and/or Teia potentially but from what we have seen them already through the expanded media - they are so much lower on my suspect list. Honestly, Viago ain't even on it - if he really wants to bruh could become King of Antiva but that's whole different theory I have. Teia could, but she has never given me vibes of someone with a level of ambition for power that you would need to betray someone close to you like this and she calls Catarina 'Nona' so I am guessing she was close with the whole Dellamorte family. Illario though - from the wigmakers job to the scenes we have seen with him - he reeks of ambition. For all we know a rivalry could have been ingrained him by his parents when he was small - maybe Illario's parent and Lucanis's parent who were siblings were bitter rivals both grasping at the positon of their mother's heir - maybe there is more for us to find out why Catarina ended up raising both boys... I even think I remember one of the Devs mention we will learn more about Lucanis's parents in later parts of the game.

This isn't a new thought of mine. Honestly since the Wigmakers Job -I didn't trust Illario. The whole heir talk never sat right with me. Lucanis is either named heir or would be named Catarina's very shortly. While Lucanis doesn't want the position (and my guess the neon target on his back that comes with it) of First Talon, he would take it if that's what his grandmother wants (Wigmakers Job) even though Lucanis thinks Illario maybe is better suited for the position. But like the good Antivan Boy Lucanis is - if his Nona asks him - he will. Illario on the other hand seems to want this more than anything else. To me the whole 'who is heir' thing reads sooooo a Game of Thrones in my mind - it just gives me such strong Targaryen infighting energy.

Also Illario while he has a very handsome face - it just gives me "don't fucking trust him" energy. Also from the recruitment mission video (maybe mild spoilers here) but that man is putting on act - he sounds way more upset than I think would be called for given the fact Lucanis is very likely alive now, there is this anger in his voice that feels out of place. Would you not be excited to find out your beloved cousin who was more brother to you - is in fact - not fucking dead? I also think the fact he doesn't go with Rook on the rescue - is so telling. The excuse made - super lame and I don't think it's bad writing. I think it's breadcrumbs and foreshadowing. And what has honestly been said about the Crow related questline - we are going to see the politics of it all...

Lastly - Why Spite? Wynn was a Spirit of Faith and she in fact had been a woman who believed in what the Circle was doing - Faith makes sense. Justice with Anders - makes so much sense because of who he is and what he experienced. Compassion for Cole also makes sense if you read Asunder. So why was Spite of all things able to be bound to Lucanis? They had tried others but Spite is what took. I think it's connected to the person who betrayed him, put him in the position that he was in for year... that whatever Love he may have had for that person turned into Spite... get what I am throwing down.

IDK this is living in my head in a nice 4 bedroom condo rent free right now.

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve CH.5

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank.

Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline.

I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it.

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol

18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS PART

----

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” the words are drawn out with each pointed thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.

He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.

You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.

----

Please interact! It’s pretty much the sole reason we as writers continue to write. I’d love to hear from you guys what you’d like to see in this story via ask box/requests. I will answer any and all submissions! NOTE that I will NOT add you to the tag list if you are only commenting to add to the list.

Please repost, and leave a comment so I know you like the story!

See y’all soon!

[scr11bles]

the masses wanted it and now you receive! part two to my little ghost and fucked up hybrid!reader is here!!!

here's part one!

a/n: reader is a german shepard hybrid! and will now be presented as fem! i hope thats okay!!!

cw: little bit of violence but idk if i'd even be considered that

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"I'll take her."

Did you hear him right? You think that's what you heard the man say... How odd, he had only gotten not even a look at your battered form, not even seen how you fight, and yet he's going to take you. You slowly turn once more to peer over your shoulder at the man on the other side of the bars; Ghost- you heard the workers call him.

With narrowed eyes you know what's about to happen, it happens every time you're chosen for a job and must be transferred. Gas starts to come up from holes in your cell, making your vision grow hazy and slowly start to fall asleep.

Ghost watches from the other side of your cell, watching in discomfort as your gassed to sleep, your now lifeless body being manhandled by the workers that entered your cell the second you were down. Ghost shifts in his spot as he sees your wrists and ankles chained together in pair with a muzzle around your mouth that sits over your lower face and wraps around tightly to the back of your head.

"Is this necessary..?"

Ghost speaks up and glares at one of the workers bringing you to your feet and dragging you out the doors of the facility and towards the chopper. The worker that he got a hold of nods his head and makes a gesture for Ghost to follow him as they walk to the chopper.

"Yes sir- she's... Not always privy to being assigned to a new handler- this is just for insurance that she won't lash out."

Ghost just grunts in response, this was going to be a pain in his ass. You were going to be a pain in his ass. The Lieutenant watches as you're forcefully shoved into a cage in the back of the chopper, his dark eyes beneath his mask narrowing as you're locked in and your chains are secured to the hull of the chopper. With one last glance at the facility, Ghost climbs into the back of the chopper, choosing to take one of the seats near where you're caged.

When the chopper lifts off the tarmac, Ghost notices you flinch as you sit with your knees to your chest- the same position you were in back in your old cell. Trauma response? Maybe. Ghost thinks to himself as his eyes glaze over you, noticing every nick, bruise, and scar on your body that's obvious. After a few boring seconds of silence the Lieutenant finally speaks up, addressing you for the first time.

"My name's-"

"Simon."

Ghost all but flinches as the sound of your voice, the man steeling himself instantly. The hell did he jump for? You're just some mutt. Though, his eyes darken and narrow into sharp slits beneath his mask when he realizes you said his name; not his callsign or last name, his first name.

"Workers liked to chat about things on the down low away from us. Wrong thing to do around creatures with enhanced hearing."

To practically prove your point, one of your ears flick atop your head before flattening back down against your skull. Ghost honestly didn't know how to feel; he wanted to throttle the blabber mouths that even dared utter his name, while also basking in the sound of your voice. It was muffled from the muzzle around your mouth, but despite that Ghost notices the pitch is strained and scratchy as you speak in a quiet whisper that's barely audible above the whirring of the chopper's blades, while also holding some semblance of softness under all the grit and gore of your very being.

"Right. It should just be Ghost to you though, I don't really do familiarity."

Ghost hears your sigh and simply stares at you, giving you an expectant look conveyed through just his dark eyes. When you catch on to what he wants you give him your name, muttering it into the air quietly so that Ghost almost doesn't catch it. The Lieutenant registers your name, grumbling it out with his gravelly voice and accent before nodding stiffly and looking you up and down, staring at your tail wrapped around your thigh and ears atop your head.

"The hell are you anyways?"

The man before you questions. Probably not the best tone of voice in his approach, but Ghost didn't think you wanted to be babied, you don't look the type to him. Your eyes slowly trail up to Ghost's, simply keeping eye contact with the man before you murmur your species, German Shepard.

Ghost hums, breaking eye contact with you and looking down at his boots for a fleeting second before looking out one of the small circular windows in the chopper. Guess that was typical, it's the average breed of hybrid that enlisted into the forces.

Simon always did like German Shepards...

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hi guys i'm alive!!! college got a little rough and i've started working out so.. my hands are full and all that. hope you guys are staying safe and i love you all :3

[lovemyromance]

A lil angry rant

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD -

Elain eating drinking and sleeping again in ACOWAR had nothing to do with LUCIEN. Very tactically - It had to do with FEYRE - Our NARRATOR - arriving at the Night Court. Not even in the sense that Feyre brought her out of her depressive state. But in the sense that until FEYRE arrived:

We would not have known Elain was even depressed

We would not have seen Elain getting better

We would not know anything ABOUT Elain or her current state - or ANYONE in the NC, because Feyre - Our first person narrator - was NOT there.

The idea that Lucien was the reason she started eating and drinking again is LAUGHABLE. For that to be the REASON - he would have had to ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING to help her.

And I'm sorry but his mere existence did NOT fix Elain. There was a VERY clear cause and effect that fixed Elain, and it was Azriel discovering she's a Seer. People can try to downplay it as much as they want, but it doesn't change the fact that Azriel revealed she was a Seer - and literally the next page - Elain get's freed from her murky realm. Clarity returns to her.

Do NOT try to make this a thing. This is NOT the argument y'all want to actually use for Elucien. There are a dozen other things that make MARGINALLY more sense than saying "Elain got better because of Lucien and Mor and Feyre not Azriel". Mor & Feyre? Fucking really? REALLY?

Like I'm sorry but I am drawing the line at saying MOR fixed Elain and Elriels are misogynistic for erasing her BIG ROLE in fixing Elain. Like my god, if she really had such a BIG part in fixing Elain, maybe the real ship here is MorElain??? Or that Feyre fixed Elain because she literally asked AZRIEL "What is wrong with her??"

Like stop, just STOP at this point. Calling Elriels misogynistic over this is such a reach.

You are the same people who claim Elain is out here sniffing and cradling Lucien's cloak he gave her after the same most traumatic day of her life, disregarding her ENTIRE trauma and PTSD just to have a 'cutsey lil headcanon about elucien'- and you have the fucking nerve to call ELRIELS misogynistic? For what? Reading the books?

Sorry I don't read things like quizlet flashcards, like random letters cut out of a magazine and shuffled and taped together to try to send a message that just ISN'T THERE.

Y'alls logic is literally "Lucien made her feel better because he arrived and then she got better" even though she literally cringed away from him and all he told them to do was get Elain some fresh air. You are just theorizing - desperately hoping, really - that somehow, Lucien's "mate-ness" cures her? Through what? Osmosis? Tf? "Through the mating bond" -> You mean the one Elain called strange and runs away from? That mating bond somehow cured her? What led you to that conclusion when even Feyre didn't come to that conclusion?

Azriel figured out she was a Seer. He found out why she was in that scared, depressed state, and he freed her. And then as soon as she could put a name to what was happening to her, babygirl straightened her spine and came back to her senses. That is literally written - black and white - in the text (that you so carefully cut Azriel out of btw).

And I keep seeing this ridiculous shit about how "oh well Elain's powers are not WRONG >:( so Azriel figuring out her powers didn't fix what was wrong with her" -> And to that, all I have to say is stfu and stop being crazy, you look like fucking clowns 🤡 . You are trying SO - SO hard to try to disprove every Elriel moment it's making you seem so desperate.

You shouldn't have to do this level of mental gymnastics to prove your ship is relevant? Why are these people SO - SO obsessed with trying to "disprove" every Elriel moment to claim they aren't significant??? Like newsflash - if Elriel wasn't significant or important - there WOULDN'T BE so many moments!

Why don't they - IDK - put half as much energy into trying to prove Elucien? Why don't they put that energy into appreciating canon Elucien moments? Why don't they have cute quotes and fanart about canon Elucien moments? Why don't they sit here fawning over cute Elucien moments from the actual books?

Oh....lol...wait. BECAUSE THERE AREN'T ANY. 😫

They HAVE to sit here and make headcanons and try to disprove everything about Elriel because they don't HAVE anything to fawn over in the books. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Why is their ENTIRE ship:

70% trying to disprove every time Elriel ever even breathed beside each other + 30% over-analyzing random out of context words and sentences + 20% headcanons about Lucien (cough, oopsie I meant headcanons about Elucien. Sorry guys, sometimes I type too fast and its so hard to miss the small, miniscule E for Elain in the Lucien ship. Sorry did it again - meant E-Lucien)

(And yes I know this adds up to over 100%. Because they're ALWAYS TRYNNA DO TOO MUCH to act like Eluciens not a dead ship)

[wilcze-kudly]

Suyin wasn't "coerced" to commit a crime, neither did she want to take herself out of the situation. She wanted to get her friends out of paying for their crimes because she's spoiled and entitled.

She didn't "have" to travel the world, she was sent to family members to take her away from a criminal and endangering environment, and she decided to escape because she's too much of a pick me girl to stay with the so called family "that didn't show her affection". To be honest, you speak of her as some kind of adult avatar-styled Rapunzel, instead of a teenager who deserved to be reprimanded.

She did turn her life around, and kudos to the creators for showing that. No one can say that her story and background is boring by any chance.

She, however, is not the most likeable character out there to a big part of the fandom, but I seriously doubt someone is taking it as seriously as you seem to do. Just chill.

Istg this happens almost everytime I post something mildly touching on the fact that Suyin deserves compassion too. Though you may be the same anon who blew up my inbox a while back so it might just be you.

I've always found the disdain we have for "troubled teens" upsetting because usually, when a teenager "acts out", there's more of a reason behind it that just "ooh they're spoilt or entitled".

[Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal ideation mentions]

Like, I was a very difficult teen back in the day. I argued with my parents, even got into physical altercations, skipped school, ran away from home at night. I was also going through a severe depression, dealing with a shitton of childhood trauma, cutting on the regular and making multiple attempts on my life. Hell, if my parents had brushed me off as "a kid who needs to be disciplined" I probably would've killed myself at 14. It doesn't excuse me for punching my dad in the stomach when he was just trying to stop me from running away into the night but it doesn't mean I didn't deserve help.

[End of Trigger Warning]

These two things can be correct at the same time. Suyin can have done a shitty thing that deserves reprimand and that she needs help that she seemingly had to find on her own. But like, guess which of these two is almost exclusively focused on.

And I mean, it's totally not like the Avatar fandom has a habit of expressing extreme hate towards young girls (especially young girls of colour) making sub optimal choices or just beind "annoying". I've just never seen that before.

Suyin grew up with Toph, who Lin herself has described like this:

Suyin : No, no. My children are a blessing. Lin: Yeah, mom used to say that too, but she never meant it.

Which btw, still an incredibly hillarious thing to say in front of Suyin's children: "Hi kids I'm your aunt Lin and your mother is lying about loving you"

While Suyin has, as a child, expressed doubt that Toph would even care that she's skipping school. And as an adult, she has described her childhood with Lin as "competing for their mother's affection" and still has doubts whether or not her mother is happy with how either of them turned out.

Hell, even though Su and Toph have been said to have made up, Toph still maintains a heavy layer of distance between them, seemingly dissappearing for years at a time!

It's honestly sad how Suyin hugs Toph and puts up statues of her everywhere in Zaofu and yet Toph still just fucked off to the swamp when Opal was probably less then ten and did not contact them.

I mean, sounds like there's not a lot of motherly affection going on there, dude. Idk what to tell ya. We know there were no fathers around either.

And Lin was also a victim of this environment, so I don't really want this to come off as me blaming her for the way she acted towards Su. But Lin is hardly what I would call affectionate.

So of course Suyin would put so much stock in her relationships outside the house. And her friends happened to be fucking criminals fucking hell. And of course Lin, being a kid too did not know how to approach this situation properly, so she inadvertently just pushed Suyin closer to them by insulting them and making her feel defensive.

Because that's what all fucking teens do. The internalise things, they rely on their peers to form their perception of things and they want to be independent. So when someone, especially someone who isn't a parent tries to control them, guess how they'll react? They dig their heels in. Especially a teen like Suyin who has virtually no reason to listen to her older sister other than a vague "I know better than you" type of vibe which really pisses teens off. That's like the time when talking down to them is the worst thing to do.

And fuck off with saying getting arrested and screamed at by your sister in the middle of the road isn't a stressful situation that you wolud wanna get out of. Lin punched a car so hard it dented! (Especially that Lin has already been confirmed to use her status as a police officer against people she has a vendetta against, like when SHE TRIED TO THROW PEMA IN JAIL FOR STEALING HER MANS like how tf did we brush over that)

What I always find interesting in this scene is the front that Su puts on in front of Lin, which slips up a few times, particularly when Lin can't see her expression. Because Suyin is, of course being a fucking brat and taunting Lin, but you can clearly see that she's stressed out.

Suyin also describing the reason she helped her friends as a getaway driver is something I find interesting:

Suyin: I didn't steal anything. I just drove the car. I owed my friends a favor. It's not a big deal.

Of course she's scared and minimising her involvement but the usage of "owing her friends" could very easily imply her not exactly being too hyped about this, as well as her insistence on not stealing anything.

Because the thing about Suyin is that, especially in the flashbacks, we see her only in Lin's PoV. We don't see her relationship with her friends, what led up to the robbery, anything. Which makes sense, because the flashbacks are supposed to be Lin's. But that means we're viewing Su with the inherent bias of Lin, who clearly has an agenda against Su.

Lin clearly blames Suyin for Toph leaving policework, despite us later seeing how burnt out and cynical Toph was about being a cop. Its more likely that Su's arrest was a wake-up call for Toph, but she left due to the buildup of stress and disillusionment and Lin, who has been idolising her mother and her mother's career blamed it on Suyin in her head.

Hell, even they made up, Lin still immediately pivots to accusing Suyin of being involved in the Red Lotus' attack. Despite the attack placing Suyin's life, the lives of her sons and the lives of her guards at risk and Suyin going out of her way to thwart it.

And Suyin's life is just a fucking mess after this point like: betrayal by close friend, daughter kidnapped by terrorists, anarchy in the kingdom, leaders of 2 foreign governments trying to pressure her into subjugating the people in the name of a monarch she doesn't support, betrayal part 2; child boogaloo, the country she lives in being declared a dictatorship, city under literal siege, threat of attack in 24 hours, the fucking Avatar doing fuck all to help, a desperate attempt at assassinating the leader, getting caught and placed in questionably humane restraints, having to watch her daughter be forced to flee, PUBKIC HUMILIATION, the arrest of her non combative son and husbandd, INHUMANE JAIL CELL...

Do I need to go on? Like the moment the Krew came to her gouse her life just started to fucking fall apart its actually kinda hillarious.

And calling Suyin a "pick me" is just... unfounded? Who's she trying to get picked by? Her mom who doesn't love her? Girlie just wanted a family she literally said so in the show, put your listening ears on, babes.

I understand that Suyin isn't the most likeable character to people. I can understand why they dislike her. She can be annoying, hypocritical, rash, the poor structuring of the episodes around her and Lin makes it so she gets unearned favour from the writers etc. People who like Lin and Kuvira, two extremely popular characters in the fandom have an easy villain in their faves' lives if they just tweak Suyin a bit.

But that doesn't mean I'm obligated to dislike her too or that I'm not allowed to post about her in a way that doesn't allign with the fandom's narrative of her. You're not obligated to read it, hun, you can block the #pro suyin beifong tag if it makes you that upset to see me

I want to appreciate parts of Suyin which aren't highlighted by the fandom and I'm allowed to do that. Just because it doesn't fit with your clearly overtly negative opion of the character well, tough luck. And hey, I gladly take the opportunity to talk about Suyin, but I've also made a ridiculous amount of posts around har and have probably addressed almost every single fandom complaint of her at some point so I'm starting to get a little tired of repeating myself lol.

And I'll be the first to admit, my own teenage years probably heavily affect how compassionate I am towards Suyin, particularly in her younger years. But I know how much people hate "troubled teens", how little compassion thet are given.

The narrative that if a misbehaving teenager just gets deisciplined and reprimanded enough they'll stop being "spoilt and entitled" or acting out is wrong and harmful. It hurts tons of teenagers by not getting them the help they need and it would've fucking killed me.

Also hun, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I tend to use hyperbole a lot. I'm a dramatic bitch. Like did you also think I was serious when I said I'd shoot myself if I saw another ad for Amazon's shit lotr wannabe show?

Tbh everytime I get an ask like this I vaguely consider doubling down and commiting to the bit of being the fandom's "Lin Beifong hater". Though I feel like a lot of people wouldn't realise its a bit and think I actually hate her for real lol.

[justaragdollysblog]

Cottontail

Bunnydoll teeth rotting fluff! as a break from the tasty angst. I also love fluffy Jax/Jax with bunny traits

Synopsis: Ragatha, after Jax always teases her, notices his animal tendencies. It’s time for her to tease, now.

———————————————————————-

The morning was peaceful and energetic, with small chatter amongst the circus cast. The only problem, however, was the apparent lack of their ringmaster. He would typically be here by now.

Ragatha stood next to Jax, her plush hand on his gloved paw as they waited with everyone else. She was getting a bit worried, but brushed it off as Caine getting the adventure in order. It wasn’t exactly uncommon.

She also had been getting teased by the rabbit a LOT lately. They had been dating for about a month now, and the jokes and pranks were relentless. Tripped in the hallway, centipede in her bed, or just plain sarcastic comments.

She had been racking her brain, thinking of material worthy enough to go against him. Jax, an annoying little shit as he might be, had a great poker face. Ragatha internally sighed. She’d never have anything good enough to-

Thump.

She paused, looking for the source of the noise. Nothing else was out of place, at least not that she could tell. She turned to look at the rabbitoid next to her.

Jax stood with an irritated expression, arms crossed, foot stomping on the ground repeatedly. A huge smirk grew across her face.

Oh, this was going to be GOOD.

“You okay, Jax?” She asked, trying with every seam in her body to steady the laughter in her voice. He looked over back at her. “I just wish Caine would hurry his tech @$$ up. Why do you ask, though?” He said in his usual snark.

“Oh, nothing.” She turned away, unable to hide the grin across her face that would rival the one next to her. “You just seem…hopping mad he’s not here yet.”

He jolted a bit, surprised. He hadn’t realized at all he was thumping. It was a typical rabbit trait, one he picked up thanks to his new form. “What are you playing at, doll?” He asked, but the edge to his voice softened.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” She feigned innocence, giggling now. “Might have something to do with your foot stomping the ground.”

Jax huffed a bit, turning away from her. She could see a small smile on his face, though. “I don’t know what you mean, Ragsy. I’ve never done anything like that. Never have, never will.” He declared, smiling wider now.

“Oh, come on, bun. You seem like you’re all ears about it!” She laughed louder now. Jax chuckled a bit now too. “Dollface, those are so bad.” He playfully groaned, running a hand down his face.

The rag doll smiled genuinely. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop, carrots.” She quickly pecked a kiss to his furry face. His ears twisted around each other, and she couldn’t help but love them even more. Everything about him was so delightfully adorable.

Jax sighed a bit at the nickname but pressed a kiss to her forehead back. “Yeah, yeah. You’re a master jokester, and I’m a rabbit. Are we even now?” He said softly, laughing through his words.

Ragatha sighed dramatically. “I guess so….Cottontail.” She covered her mouth as she laughed. That nickname was equivalent to his for her: Dollface. A pet name that only the two could call each other. A pretty thing just for them.

Finally, Caine appeared and explained the adventure, sending them on their way through the warping portal. Jax held Ragatha’s hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb on her palm.

The two walked through the threshold, hand in hand, paw in plush. Ragatha gazed at him lovingly. “I love you, Cottontail.” She smiled softly, squeezing his hand.

“I love you too, Doll.”

————————————————————————

WOOOOOOO i love jax w animal tendencies so i wrote this :)))) idk if i’m as happy w it but yeah!

also chapter 2 to the other bunnydoll one (angsty one) comin soon as soon as i formulate the plot of that chapter

reblogs are always appreciated! see u guys next time!!!

[think-like-a-poet]

hey idk if it’s too late for this but could you do prompt 41 with Kenan Yildiz. thank you

My future

Kenan Yildiz x reader

Prompt: is she the one?

A/N: Hii, it has been some time since i wrote. I guess i kinda fell out of it for a moment. I try to write all of the requests in my inbox in the coming week. sorry for the long waite.

After a long period of football matches, Kenan finally had some time to himself. What is a better way to spend it with his loved ones back in Germany.

A long car ride and a couple of tankstation food later, you and Kenan had arrived at his beautiful hometown Regensburg. He got out of the car and walked to the other side to open up your car door and help you out. Those nine hours you sat in the car made you feel tired and you were glad it was over.

You both looked up at the sound of the front door opening and his mother walked outside, "You are here." she walked up to you both and gave each of you a hug. "I missed you so much, lets get inside." she grabbed your hand and together you walked inside.

Kenan just smiled to himself and he grabbed the luggage from the backseat and followed right behind. His dad was standing at the opening to help him carry everything inside. "give me a hug, i missed you." Kenan put the bags down and gave him a hug, "are you getting taller, or am i shrinking?" kenan laughs at the comment and together they walk towards you.

"I made some tea, do you want some?" she nod and follow the older lady inside the kitchen to help.

The next couple hours are filled with lots of laughter as you all catch up about what happened in the time since you last saw each other. His parents couldn't help but look at each other as the see their son admiring you with love in his eyes.

Later that night, after dinner was served, Kenan found himself seated on the couch with his father. He kept stealing glances at you mid conversation and his father couldn't help but notice. You were talking with his mother and it made him smile. He loved how easy it was for you to blend in with his family.

It was always difficult with new people. Kenan was living in Turijn, close to the Juventus stadium and he didn't see his parents that often. Of course he called and holidays were spent together, but the constant flying over to new countries to play games, the training, made it all difficult. He was glad for it.

"Is she the one?" his father asked and he turned back.

Without even thinking, he answered, "yes,"

The older man smiled at his son with pride, "You better make sure she knows that too,"

"Don't worry. She knows," he says and looks right back at you.

[pullthehilt]

carrot at the end of a stick

Desc.: meet cute… but is it really

Characters: IMPLIDED RELATIONSHIP Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto

Reader: not explicitly yuu

t/w: implied non-descriptive cannibalism

why is it all in bullet points? idk :> one day i will flesh this idea out, but i just really wanted to get this out before my dreams for the next few days is just this lol.

"And… let's talk about your love life."

It was a quiet afternoon on the pier; a summer buzz blanketing the residences of the shore as the rumble of the rollercoaster in the distance groaned. One such man had taken shelter from the sweltering heat in the cloth-covered stall of the fortune teller.

The guy in front of him was… shady to say the least; the man was in a pressed suit in the middle of summer, gloves and jacket and all.

He was sceptical, but he was also incredibly bored. So, agreeing, he splayed his hand palm-side up.

He peered over his glasses frame. "It'll be extra for that."

Tsk.

"Aha, dear customer. It seems you'll be having an encounter that'll change your life very, very, soon."

“A man, oh it kinda looks more like a woman-- well the encounter will definitely be with a person. Hmm, well it seems to be on the shoreline. Perhaps heading north-- in the evening…” blah blah blah

Well he's killing time at least and it’s not the worst place to be rotting his summer away in.

Exiting the tent he revels in the sticky, salty air and heads down the steps towards the shoreline.

He'd like to dip his toes in the water, kill the heat some more.

And then he sees them.

He sees you.

You're certainly a sight for sore eyes. Flushed from the sun, digging your feet in the sand. You sway gently with the waves, rhythmically matching the seas tune. The sun behind you douses you in liquid gold. It's like your clothing is just artistically draped onto you, white silk against your skin. There are shells piled into your arms, cradled as you continue to collect, bend and gently poke into the ground.

He's a long ways from you but it's like the world around him silences-- enraptured. He can no longer hear the sound of mechanical enjoyment, the rollercoasters and man-ran stalls. No sounds of children crying or couples bickering. Just the sounds of the waves accenting you.

And you're getting further and further away, shyly toeing towards the half-submerged tide pools.

He has half a mind to not bother you. It's a bit weird to trail after you, isn't it? You hadn't even noticed him as you were minding your own business.

But the words come back to him, the same way the water laps at his shoes.

"An encounter…"

At first he's only walking towards where you've disappeared over the horizon. The leisurely pace he treads, a product of hyping himself up for conversing with you, if you're still in the area. But then he hears a short yell and his heart staccatos.

Chasing after you is easy, sand being flicked up with every gallop towards your direction.

There's butterflies in his stomach from how your voice was carried in the wind-- is that what you sounded like when you were hurt? Or was it a yelp of surprise? Even scared, you sound so...

He scolds himself for even thinking of the other sounds you'd make.

When he reaches you, you're drenched and sat on a sloped rock.

The tide pool itself is shaped like a crescent, the open mouth leading directly to the sea-- and the waves are really working up a storm, as the tide has gotten inches higher from where it was just a few hours ago. At the centre of the crescent shape from where you're sat is a small rock pathway.

Your face is contorted, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed to a thin line. Slumped over your leg, you clutch at the leaking wound at the side of your shin.

"Oh god, are you alright?" He calls out to you, body leaning in your direction. It's cute how you jolt to attention, dishevelled.

At first it looks like you're analysing him, and so he tries, "I'm not here to harm you." Palms facing up, showing that he had nothing of a potential threat on his person. "I… I just heard a shout-- a scream. I thought someone needed help and you…"

"I scraped my leg… But… Uh, I'll be alright."

Your voice is light, fluffy even. He soaks it into his system like a sponge and wishes you'd talk more-- god he'd do anything to make you talk more--

"Do you need help?" Dumbass, he thinks to himself, of course you need help. He'd reprimand himself further if his mind hadn't frozen at the way your lips curved to a smile.

"It'd be nice if you could help me," calling out to him you kind of beckon him with your hand. "Come. Come help me." Stumbling to the edge, he prepares to step.

"What's your name?" He's afraid of coming off a bit too strong, but he needs to know. He can feel the water seeping into the canvas of his sneakers, pooling at his toes, but he only steps closer with one foot on the first stone of the pathways towards you.

The shape of your name casts into your lips, but the waves at the moment steal your voice. What? What did you say? He can't hear you, and he says so.

Carefully, he commits his weight to the first stone before moving to the next.

It's a short way to you, but he's slow to make his way as the water spits and crashes against the pathway. Torn between you and the stone he’s stood on, his eyes flicker between the two. Your hand is still stretched, as still as a marble statue. Waiting for him. A heat filters to pool in his ears the closer he gets to you. There's a flicker of hope tickling his spine as he imagines the words he'd say when he gets you off this rock-- he'd ask further if you were alright and if maybe you wanted him to accompany you to the lifeguard's tower to get you patched up. You'd say yes and then he'd follow up with shy conversation leading to the eventual exchanging of numbers. Then he'd for sure ask you on a date, maybe visit the small restaurant overlooking the cliffside a short walk away. Circle back to the pier, win you a couple of prizes from the vendors there… Visit the fortune teller and give him an extra tip.

He's so close to you now. Balancing on the next rock is hard, and he focuses to where his foot nearly slips. It would be terrible to embarrass himself by falling into the water-- troublesome too from how his shoes would be waterlogged and maybe tangled in the seaweed he could see dancing below.

The next stone is even smaller and he gets why you could've slipped here because, he's swinging his arms to regain his balance. But he sees your hand just in front of him and he clasps his to yours, fingers tightening.

Your smile is so bright, stretching to your eyes as your cheeks squish and mould into something Cheshire like.

He winces, your grip firm.

"Thank you." And he's tumbling as you yank sideways.

Water fills his lungs, salt attacking his tastebuds and stinging his eyes.

No one hears you when you're drowning, especially in the sea. The water crashing against the rocks is already loud in itself, and the fact that you have to fight between sputtering out water and kicking your legs to stay afloat and shouting is a battle in itself.

He screams to you, help him god-damn it. Fucking wench, why did you do that-- he'll actually drown at this rate. You're a bastard for tricking him like that-- a whore.

But your eyes are vacant and unfocused. You don’t see him, but you’re looking at his direction.

And then he feels something squeezing his leg. He's kicking harder now, has the thought to untangle the kelp or something he probably accidentally tangled into—

When he looks down, he doesn't see a clump of black wrung around him. Instead, there is a pair of half-moon eyes peering from beyond the water, coloured a sandy brown and warning sign yellow.

-

The water starts to turn a beautiful pink reminiscent to the colour of the coral and anemones dotting around your home. He, the man, is quick to have been pulled under with a trail of bubbles popping to the surface; at first it stays in once place, before the shape of him thrusts forward-- he rushes through the water like a bullet, tearing to circle the rock you sit upon.

 A warm sensation spreads across your stinging wound. When you look down there are a set of eyes fluttering back at you.

"Jade, stop that..." His tongue slips back into his mouth.

He parts from your calf, propping his head by your thigh, smiling. Floyd surfaces for a minute, eyes peeking back at the two of you. There's little disturbance as he moves almost jerking back and forth before his head fully floats above the water with a satisfied sigh.

"Was that all of him?"

"Dunno,” he burps out. “Definitely not all of him though.”

“Can you check?”

“Will I get a prize for doing it?” Glaring, you flick droplets at him with your free foot. He splashes back, waving an arm at you.

Clasping the foot, Jade cradles it to his chest. "Then… what part did you eat?"

"Dunno. An arm?”

“Floyd.”

“Hmph.” He dives back down, body folding to flicker into the deeper waters. After a moment, he resurfaces carrying something by the way he sways a bit more unevenly. “It was an arm.”

[bimbo-baggins17]

Okay Pookie so long story short, last year, this was around the time I went to the silly hospital, grippy sock jail. So I was wondering if you could maybe, just maybe…. Write something about like Hayden’s partner who’s going through like a mental health crisis or something… I just idk I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately yk

Also below is a personal favorite of mine

Also sorry for sending so much 😭😭😭

Not the grippy sock jail. Been there too pooks, don’t worry. I def think he’d be very very supportive. He might not fully understand but he’d never ever be judgmental about it

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

Hayden walks into your shared place, eyebrows furrowing when he doesn’t see you ready to greet him by the door. He sets his keys down on the counter, peeking into the living room to see if you’re there but again nothing.

“Sweetheart? You home?” He calls out as he starts down the hallway.

It takes a lot out of you but you manage a faint, “Yeah.”

He catches it but only barely. Pushing open the bedroom door, he spots you cocooned in the duvet. “You okay?” He asks softly, quietly shutting the door behind him but he’s met with silence at the question.

Hayden sits down on your side of the bed, large hand immediately coming to rest on your side. “Hey, c’mon talk to me.” He tries to coax you a little bit out of your mess of blankets.

You let out a shaky exhale, “I dunno..just not doing okay right now.”

He lets out a soft sigh, face changing to one of sympathy. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

Shaking your head, you pull the blankets around you tighter. “Just stay with me?”

He nods and shifts to lean back against the headboard, letting you rest your head in his lap. “I can do that baby, I can do that.” He runs his hand up and down your back soothingly. He’d do whatever you needed even if it was just this.

[solemnv0id]

Monsterverse au where almost everything is the same except Godzilla can just become a guy whenever he feels like it

some rambles about the au under cut

ok hai idk what sparked in my brain to come up with this idea but I just think it would be very funny to see how a guy who fucks up cities on the regular would deal with being in a city and trying to figure out how the fuck society works

in this au, whenever he either turns back into Godzilla or goes into guy mode (which is the term I’ve decided for when referring to him changing to his human form), a massive cloud of mist forms around him. So while people don’t know that this guy in particular is Godzilla, they do know that if a cloud of mist suddenly appears and you didn’t see Godzilla anywhere beforehand, it’s time to panic.

There’s usually 2 main reasons why he turns into a person

One is boredom. There’s a shocking lack of things for the king of the monsters to do when there’s no monsters to beat up, he’s not tired, and is fully fed so has decided to spend some of his free time figuring what the hell these humans are getting up to these days

Two is quick maneuvering. It generally throws other monsters way off guard when the guy they’re fighting just vanishes in a cloud of mist.

also for funsies here’s some facts about goji in this au because it’s funny

1) Very good at picking up languages,,,verbally. His ass canNOT read.

2) Doesnt understand the point of paper money and credit cards. Only thing he somewhat understands is coins because “at least they’re nice and shiny”

3) In this version of KOTM, when he was getting final wars’d by Ghidorah he briefly went into guy mode in order to get out of there but couldn’t stay like it for long because yknow he was about to explode

4) Sleeps in loads of different spots bc who knew there’s so many more places to sleep when you’re not the size of a wonder of the world, and like what people gonna do? Move him?

5) Pretty much all his prior knowledge of humanity before deciding that exploring cities is cool is from eavesdropping the humans that were in that weird Atlantis place in KOTM and still remembers how to speak their language, only problem is that that culture and language has been dead for several thousand years so it’s not super helpful these days.

6) Thinks straws are a top 10 human invention

7) Chilled in Japan for a bit before 2014 happened and was given the name Tamaki which is what he uses to introduce himself since he didn’t know for a while that people called him Godzilla and even if he knew, telling people your name is Godzilla or Gojira makes them look at you funny

8) He can still use his atomic breath in guy mode but it’s usually by accident, like he sneezes a bit to hard and lasers a bit of a building by accident

9) For some reason is always surprised when people guess his age because they usually guess like,,, late 30s, early 40s and not several hundred thousand years old for some reason (his ass has no clue how long human life spans are due to both his lack of knowledge on them and the fact his perception of time is kinda fucked, he thinks they’re at least 1000 years)

10) Knows about Monarch but just generally views them as annoying bastards that don’t leave him alone (except Serizawa, he thinks about that one moment a lot). Also Monarch knows about the fact he can go guy mode but they haven’t been able to identify which guy he becomes.

11) Can still breathe underwater in guy mode (he still has his gills on his neck but you can’t see them bc of his hair) and will sometimes chill in the ocean whenever he decides that humanity has pissed him off for whatever reason

12) Will never deny that he’s Godzilla, he might not admit he is but if someone asks he won’t say that he isn’t, he just might indirectly say yes

[whump-me-all-night-long]

.

[mocking-the-bird]

If Tim and Steph decide that 7am is time for sibling bonding activities, it'll be so, even if the sibling they're bonding with is trying to get some goddamn sleep

[solarpunkani]

"Oh no, someone's attracted to the aesthetics of my -punk movement but doesn't know the praxis and history behind it like I do--"

OK. Tell them. Make it a teaching moment. Everyone who's in your movement learned the background from somewhere at some point, maybe this is that point for that person. Give them a jumping off point that they can dive into later.

"Oh but I shouldn't be responsible for teaching baby -punks about the history and the how-tos and--"

OK. Then don't tell them. You don't have to be responsible for teaching people with a budding interest in your group the ins and outs and how-tos. That's fair and valid! It can be a lot of work. Someone else will handle it

"But I'm annoyed that they would try to claim to be part of/be interested in my community without knowing all the details that I know after being in it for months/years/decades, they're dumb, they're posers, they're--"

OK. Then don't engage with them, if it's that bad. Maybe someone else will come around and tell them the history, maybe they'll pick it up on their own, maybe they'll just enjoy the fashion elements for awhile.

"But they shouldn't claim to be part of the -punk community if they don't know the--"

I feel like we have a few options here. People can either talk to them, share the history, share the values, share the praxis. Or they can just chase off anyone who even thinks about dipping a toe in their community, and then wonder why it's dying off later down the line.

I dunno, maybe I'm too naive and patient or whatever. But if people are entering your -punk spaces without knowing The Rundown of what you feel they need to know, maybe being nice about it and informing people instead of immediately assuming stupidity and malicious intent could help you make a new friend. Even the loudest voices in a space had to learn from somewhere, and not everyone has the luxury of being in the space as the History was Happening--whether it's an age thing or a not being aware of the space thing. Or maybe I just don't see what the big deal is behind people hating people who like the aesthetic of something and don't know the behind the scenes history about it yet.

Because I believe in the word 'yet.' No one comes into this world knowing everything about everything, and we're all constantly learning new things. I'm not gonna degrade someone and call them a poser for not knowing what I know. Because if it were me, interested in a scene but getting chased out and called a poser? I wouldn't hit the books and study up, I'd go 'that fuckin sucks, those people sucked' and then avoid anyone and anything having to do with it.

So chase people off and call them posers if you want. But if your community starts dwindling, don't be fucking shocked.