#and you can't even be bothered to do anything about it

[obito-in-disguise]

| Avoiding their touch |

Pranking male Naruto characters by avoiding their touch.

Uchiha Sasuke

At first, Sasuke ignores your strange behavior. If you wanted to be weird, that was your headache, not his.

But when you sidestep him during a mission as he reaches out to steady you after a jump, his eyes narrow.

"What's your problem?" he asks, deadpan, stepping closer and reaching out for you again.

You shrug innocently, dodging his touch once more. His jaw tightens, and he retracts his hand.

Sasuke is surprisingly patient after that. But after you dodge his touch a third time, that patience snaps. Determined to keep up the charade, you move to avoid his arm when he tries to protect you again.

"Whatever" did you seriously think he had a problem with not touching you?

He doesn't even bother with words anymore. Playing along with your game, he grabs the back of your shirt and effortlessly flings you out of harm's way.

"Hey!"

"You wanna play games? Fine," he mutters, completely unfazed by your wide-eyed glare.

For the rest of the day, Sasuke avoids your touch, despite your whining and apologies. This was your punishment for playing silly games with him.

Uzumaki Naruto

"huh??"

You must be tripping, Naruto thinks, watching you duck when he tries to pull you into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

Naruto is all about physical affection, high fives, random hugs, scooping you up into his arms. So when you dodge his hug, his jaw drops.

The look on his face is too ridiculous, you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his utter shock of your audacity.

"You're so dramatic" you roll your eyes, pulling him into a hug as an apology.

Naruto grins and returns the hug twice as hard, lifting you off the ground for good measure. Ignoring your squeals of embarrassment, he parades through the village with you still awkwardly dangling in his arms as punishment.

"Put me down Naruto! You're so embarrassing!"

Aburame Shino

Shino is flabbergasted, to say the least. You never avoided his touch, and he loved that because you were the only person he was comfortable being affectionate with anyway.

His eye twitches, but his shoulders eventually sag in relief when he sees you struggling to contain your laughter. You were just playing a silly prank after all, thank goodness.

He discreetly releases a meliponine bee from his jacket sleeve, the little creature was harmless and couldn't sting, but you didn't need to know that.

The moment you spot it, your eyes widen.

"SHINO, ONE OF YOUR BEES ESCAPED!"

Shrieking, you leap into his arms. His lips stretch into a smug smirk as he catches you.

"Oh? What's this? I thought you didn't want me to touch you?"

You narrow your eyes, quickly connecting the dots. Jumping out of his arms, you smack his shoulder lightly.

"Touché"

Hyuga Neji

Neji was pretty much sick of your shit at this point, you've been on a pranking streak all week and it put him on edge.

Now he questions every little reaction from you, wondering if it was a prank or not.

Even now, he stood watching you, his posture stiff, an irritated glare on his face.

"Stop testing my patience y/n."

He grits out, reaching for you again, watching you move out of the way.

"Have I...have I done anything to upset you?"

he asks, voice shaky, exhaustion creeping in. He was afraid this time you weren't joking and he might've actually upset you.

You immediately drop the act, not liking the kicked puppy dog look on his face one bit.

"I'm sorry baby, I was just messing around" you tug him into a hug to which he returns with a glare, ultimately glad this wasn't anything serious.

He reaches down to flick your forehead.

"Ow!"

"You're an idiot. Quit it with the silly games ok?" he murmurs gently brushing his fingers over the spot he flicked.

"Ok ok"

Uchiha Itachi

Itachi chuckles, watching you sidestep his hug. He immediately knew you were playing games, no one craved his touch more than you did.

"Are you sure you want to do that? I'm leaving for a mission and won't be back till tomorrow"

You bite your lip, weighing your options. He was right, 24hrs was way too long to go without a hug.

You huff, shuffling into his still open arms with defeat. "Fine, I yield"

He laughs again, giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away.

"I'll see you in a couple hours" he says, placing a kiss on your hair before pulling away.

"See y- wait what! You said tomorrow"

"I lied" he calls out, smiling casually, like he didn't just decieve you, continuing down the path without looking back.

You can't help but chuckle at his cuningness, you were so going to get him back when he returns though.

Uchiha Obito

"Well aren't you a picture of domesticity" Obito muses, watching you make coffee in one of his button downs, the shirt large on you.

He can't help himself, he reaches out to feel your soft skin only to be met with air when you move out of the way, giving him a strange look.

If he paid more attention, he would've noticed the look on your face was you struggling to hold in your laughter, but his stomach was too busy dropping to his feet.

Obito was insecure, about his face, about his body, and his past. Despite your reassurances, a part of him never believed he was what you wanted.

He was chronically paranoid that one day you'd realize you could have better, and leave him.

It didn't take you too long to figure out what was going through his head when he froze, staring at you like a deer in headlights.

"Shit, this was a terrible idea" you immediately grab his hands, placing one on your cheek and the other on your waist "I'm sorry, I was just messing around"

He stares down at you for a few seconds gauging your sincerity before sighing, his body untensing in relief.

"You're a menace..." his arms snake around you, pulling you into his chest, happy this was just a joke.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry"

Hatake Kakashi

Kakashi notices but doesn't react right away. Instead, he silently joins your game.

Every time he sees you coming he makes a point to dramatically avoid touching you even by a hair's breath, dramatically bending and contorting his body into all sorts of shapes.

"You're terrible" you giggle, trying to grab him, watching him dodge your hands like his life depended on it.

"me? You're the one who started it"

he finally relents, letting you tug him into your arms.

"You could've seriously hurt my feelings you know? I'm sensitive"

You snort, Kakashi didn't give a shit and you both knew it.

You lean up, tugging his mask down to peck is nose as an apology "You're about as sensitive as that rock over there"

He chuckles, deciding to let your snark go, he won after all, you wouldn't be avoiding his touch again.

I just realized I've never done headcannons for the naruto characters at once, so enjoy!

Feel free to check out my other Naruto Shippuden fics and more stories!

Tiny taglist🥲: @catlover19282

[cod-indulgences]

How do you think Simon or Kyle would react to user having like a really puffy petticoat/ puff skirt?

They're extremely soft and it's amazing wearing them + you don't have to worry about like, accidentally showing anything since there are so many ruffles? (They're also adorable with movement?? Twirling makes them puff up kinda and it's all fluffy cloud and cloth, jumping too)

(I asked this to someone else but just decided to bite the bullet here-)

Simon Riley x female!reader, exhibitionism, dubcon, fucking in public, but they're the only ones who know- right?, slight humiliation/degradation

It's not a costume, it's cosplay, you insist, but Simon isn't really listening. Simon would be playing with the ruffles even as he insists he's not. Flipping the edges and running the lace edges between his fingers. No he's not messing with your skirt, he's just getting some dirt off. There was a bug. He's just checking it's sitting right, you put so much effort into your outfit love, just try'na help.

It's only when he lifts you up to get a kiss and realizes how deep the skirt goes that his brain turns over. Both hands on your ass and he's in ruffles up to his elbows, you can't see a goddamn thing through it, and it hits him that he could split you open on his cock and no one would know.

He hauls you into his lap, nuzzling your throat as you giggle and scold him about PDA, and sneaks a hand up to your pussy beneath the skirt. You can't get up off him easily, and he's got those strong fingers rubbing over your clit through your panties, fuck why did you decide to go all in with your outfit and pick the lacey lingerie?? Now it's dragging and scratching your clit, plumping you up, and Simon grins because he knows he's got you. Poor sweet thing, getting all stupid even before his cock is in you.

You try and balk when he pulls his dick out and rubs the wet head against your hole. Panties pulled to the side, your legs open over his lap, Simon, someone will see!

See you crying on my cock, he says in your ear, and tugs your face down into his shoulder to muffle your shout as he lifts you up and all the way down. Just a sweet thing on her man's lap, nothing happening here, and he hitches his hips up in little grinding thrusts that make you moan and whimper. He can feel you drooling on his balls, and whispers how cute you are dressed like this, how easy you made it for him to just get his cock in you, right here where all the people are milling around, taking photos, maybe looking over to see what's going on with that couple in the corner, the big man holding his girl in his lap. How sweet, how innocent.

Would they still call you innocent if they knew how hard you're coming just from warming my cock?

Simon holds you and rubs your back through the shuddering and clenching, letting your cunt squeeze and fuck down onto him, the thick pile of skirts around your hips and thighs rustling only a little. Amazing, and he reminds you to keep your voice down as he starts bouncing you up and down, sneaking a hand up to grope your tits though your top, tugging a nipple out so he can pinch it.

You're so blissed out you barely manage a protest, but he pins you under his arm like he's embracing you. Shush lovie, let me use this little pussy and I'll get you back on your feet. I'm so close already, you feel so good, hot and tight, and your pussy clamps down as Simon shoves his cock so deep it aches, biting on your shoulder to muffle himself.

When he pulls out you whimper at the slick mess over your thighs, sticking the inner layer of your skirts to your skin, panties twisted up and soaked through. Simon just laughs and tucks his cock away, setting you on your feet with a kiss. Next time you wear this, don't bother with the panties, he says, and tugs your top back into place as a camera shutter flashes.

[s0fter-sin]

cw mild horror

johnny moves into a new house with his dog riley after his last relationship implodes

it's on the older side, a fixer upper; a project he can lose himself in so he doesn't have to let himself think of how his ex used him up just to toss him aside. the backyard's huge with a cluster of trees ringing the property that look beautiful in the sunset. it even has a basement, rarely seen in the uk, that's perfect to store all the supplies he'll need to fix the place up

the only downside is how far away it is from everything; it takes a good hour to drive to anything

but johnny has riley and that's all he needs

he talks to him as he works on the place; promises a new start for them both, that this could be the place they always needed. sure it's old and the groans and scratches that occasionally come from the walls can be a bit unsettling and the smell coming from the dumbwaiter is… concerning but johnny needs this place to work; he needs something to go right and be his and if that thing is a slightly creepy house then so be it

it was a steal; he still can't believe how cheap he got it considering the size of the block but the realtor seemed all too happy to be rid of it. she couldn’t tell him much about the place beyond the size of the land and that it only belonged to two people since it was built; the original owner who built it before it went abandoned for a decade or so until it was bought by a young couple who owned it for over thirty years

he asked about the couple, if they were happy in the long years they lived here, but she just said it wasn’t her place to say. johnny just shrugged; guess confidentiality extends beyond doctors these days

riley sticks by his side as he evaluates the house, figuring out what needs to be done and what to prioritise. he gives himself a week to wallow, living out of boxes with battery powered lanterns to light his - admittedly dismal - dinners before he gets to work. he decides to start with the wiring and old electricity box in the basement. riley occasionally gets distracted by some smell in the old vents but always coming back when johnny starts talking again

it's late by the time he gets the lights to finally stay on so he decides to shower in his newly lit bathroom and turn in

he's laying in bed, hair still wet, when he hears the scratch of riley's nails on the floorboards and sighs, swinging an arm down the side of the bed for pets if riley wants them; wiggling them in invitation when feels his breath on his fingers

"am i doing the right thing?" he asks him. "just- up and leavin'? i don't miss him. i don't... but... should i have tried to make it right 'stead of runnin' with my tail between my legs?"

riley's breaths are all that answer him

then he remembers his ex's apathetic face when he walked in on him in their living room; when he looked him right in the eyes and didn't even bother to stop his moans or hide the legs slung around his waist

"that shouldn't be on me," he growls. "he's the one who decided to nail that goddamn tart- i shouldn't be the one to have to fix shit. he should've been the one on his knees beggin' me to stay."

and he did beg- begged him not to sell the flat he owned and already paid off, the one his ex never spent a dime on rent on yet still had the audacity to ask to stay until he found a new place to fuck his side piece in

"just... why didn't he try?" he whispers. "...why wasn't i enough?"

johnny flinches as riley's tongue laps at his fingers, thick and wet and gross, and he huffs a laugh. "you're right," he smiles. "we're better off without him. just you and me, aye boy?"

he doesn't stop licking and johhny laughs again, pulling his hand back to wipe off on the sheets

"nasty boy," he chuckles. "least you love me."

a whine comes from the bedroom door and johnny frowns, looking over as the door swayed open; he thought he treated those hinges already, the sound was driving him nuts

bloody old place, he groans, sitting up-

and freezes when riley cocks his head at him from the doorway

johnny's throat constricts, ice flooding his system while the warm, wet saliva still on his hand burns. his neck protests as he slowly turns to his left, his quickening breaths roaring in his ears; everything in him begging him to not to look-

and screams when he sees a pair of brown eyes and wet lips spread in a wild grin before the man throws himself back into the vent in the wall

the same scratching and groaning johnny’s heard since the day he moved in following him as he crawls somewhere inside the house

[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[cozmowrites]

Francesca

francesca - hozier

+++++

It wasn't like you to wait. Not for anything or anyone. But for him—brash, fiery, and always burning—you found yourself lingering. You stood in the shadow of the training gym, watching the sun drip down into the horizon, your arms crossed as the evening air cooled.

Katsuki Bakugou was late.

You could hear the echoes of his explosions inside the gym, each sharp bang a testament to his relentless drive. Most people would have been angry, or at least annoyed. You weren't sure what you felt anymore.

He burst through the doors a moment later, his hair a messy crown of blonde spikes, sweat dripping from his brow. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, they softened before narrowing.

"You're still here?" He asked, dragging a hand through his damp hair. "Told you not to wait."

"And yet," you said with a faint smirk, "here I am."

He scoffed, but his gaze lingered on you, his usual sharpness dulling. "Shouldn't have bothered."

"I didn't." You stepped closer, your voice quieter now. "I wanted to."

Bakugou wasn't one for grand gestures or poetic words. His love—if it could even be called that—came in fleeting moments, stolen glances, and the way he always stood a little closer to you than anyone else. It was in the way he'd grip your hand when no one was looking or the fierce protectiveness that flared in battle.

But you needed more tonight.

"Why do you do this?" You asked, not bothering to mask the frustration in your tone.

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "Do what?"

"Push yourself until there's nothing left of you," you said, motioning to the sweat-drenched shirt clinging to his chest. "Until you're more ash than man."

Bakugou's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. "Because I have to."

"No, you don't." Your voice softened, but you replied quickly, and you reached out to touch his arm. "You want to."

His eyes snapped back to yours, a storm brewing in the depths of crimson. "What the hell do you know about it?"

"I know you," you said, your fingers tightening around his arm. "I know that you think you have to prove yourself to everyone. That you think if you stop, even for a second, someone will surpass you."

His silence was deafening, the weight of your words hanging between you. You could see the conflict in his expression—the vulnerability he hated showing, the fear he refused to name.

"You're enough, Katsuki," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to keep setting yourself on fire to prove it."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You don't get it."

"Then make me understand."

For a moment, you thought he wouldn't answer. But then, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to him.

"I'm not like the rest of you," he said, his voice low and rough. "I can't afford to be weak. If I don't push myself, if I don't fight for every damn inch, what the hell am I worth?"

"You're worth more than this," you said firmly. "More than your quirk, more than your strength. You're worth everything to me."

The words hung in the air, raw and unpolished. For a heartbeat, he looked at you as if you'd punched him in the gut. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, he pulled you into his arms, his grip almost bruising.

"Idiot," he muttered into your hair, his voice cracking just enough for you to notice. "Why the hell would you say that?"

"Because it's true," you said, your hands sliding up his back. "And because you need to hear it."

He held you tighter, his forehead resting against yours. The world outside the two of you faded, the only sound his uneven breathing and the steady thrum of your heartbeat.

"I'm not good at this," he admitted, his voice so quiet it almost broke you. "At... you."

"You don't have to be perfect," you said, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "You just have to be you."

For the first time, he didn't argue. He didn't scoff or roll his eyes. He simply nodded, the tension in his body melting away as he leaned into you.

"Stay," he said, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. "Just... stay."

And you did. Bakugou was worth it.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

[thewitchblue]

"Jason. Who is that behind you?"

You asked in a warning tone as Jason crawled in through the window suspiciously. He said he had a surprise for you. Well, it sure did surprise you when a child followed him through the window (and promptly fell ungracefully). He brought home a kid from Crime Alley Bruce Wayne style.

Jason immediately was on the defence and pulled the child closer to him gently.

"You said you were having baby fever."

Your dense boyfriend looked so proud of himself that you didn't have the heart to deny him anything. His actions were sweet, but he could have just brought you to an orphanage or the park instead of kidnapping a child off the streets. Apparently, he didn't think about those as options. Instead, he figured he'd bring home a child to ease the baby fever. You would have liked for him to consult you first, but he knew you'd never take that step if he didn't metaphorically shove you to do it.

You sighed. He can't keep doing this. It was fine when he was kidnapping friends and family like Jon and Damian, but to bring a random child home was going too far. He was forming an uncontrollable habit. Where are the parents? Maybe it's best not to answer that question, but surely they have a guardian of some kind. You were exhausted already, as you said,

"You have to stop kidnapping people."

Jason didn't react. He simply picked up the kid and immediately handed them to you in hopes that you'll bond with them. You frowned at Jason but took the kid regardless as they were making grabby hands like a monkey wanting to change trees. He replied,

"No can do, mama bear."

You looked at the kid. They really were adorable and immediately cuddled themselves into your chest. Their bashful eyes seemed to plead with you to stay at least for the night. You were caving into the sweet doe eyes and timid smile staring at you with hope on their face. Your hold on the child tightened slightly as you asked,

"Will you stop kidnapping people if we keep this one?"

He hesitated long enough for you to know he had another kid following him. You groaned,

"You brought me twins?!"

Jason helped the little kid through the window with a sheepish smile. He couldn't help himself. He saw a pair of twins and needed to protect them. They looked like they were in terrible condition when he saved them from a trafficking ring. You groaned,

"Jason, we don't have the room for them!"

Jason, unfortunately for you, gave you pleading eyes that he knows you can't say no to. You narrowed your eyes at him. That's unfair, but it's helping him to win the fight. The kids were getting nervous, however, so you had to comfort them instead of argue further.

"It's okay, little ones. We're only figuring everything out to make sure you are taken care of."

The kids nodded, but they obviously still weren't happy to hear all this, so you let them go play with some plushies you have around the apartment.

"They can share a room until we get a bigger apartment."

He suggested. He really wanted to keep them. Your baby fever transferred to him. His longing for parenthood took over so hard he had to bring them home immediately. He didn't even listen to his comms when they tried to reach him. He brought the kids home as soon as he possibly could.

You caved. Fine. You can take care of two 4-year-old kids. Everything will be fine. You shook your head but finally conceded,

"I'll buy supplies in the morning."

Jason grinned and gave you a kiss. He wrapped his arm around you while you both watched the kids play together fondly. Mission success. New level: Parenthood.

"Hood. Report."

He heard in his ear. He grumbled, disgruntled at the interruption. He didn't bother designating a response to Oracle's demand. He's busy. He needs to settle the kids in and adopt them legally. The family is going to freak out when they find out, but it will be okay. He can fight off seven vigilantes when he tells them.

"No more children, got it?"

You sounded amused, but Jason knew you were serious. He wished he had more time with his twins, but you ushered him back outside with a small smile. He had vigilante work to do.

He didn't promise anything. He was content with two for now, but who knows? Maybe he really will turn into Bruce and have eight children collected through the years.

[boofeine]

Just saw the Mingyu jealous drabble can you please do one for scoups too?

WARNINGS: mdni, cute but not really (type of thing is just cute on fiction ig), suggestive,,, unrevised work !!!

Seungcheol has his back to you, but you can still see the way he shakes his head. You stare at his broad shoulders as he cuts some onions on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Seungcheol! Just stop for a moment and talk to me" you say, trying again. He's been sulking and giving dry replies for the whole day.

"I'm occupied" he says, and you groan, cursing under your breath for the thousandth time.

You are pretty sure his behavior is from one of your friends he's so sure is in love with you. All you did was greet him and do a small talk, and the man turned your back to you right now thinks your friend is about to drop on his knees and ask your hand in marriage. It's always a hard time when Seungcheol is jealous and you hope someday he overthinks less. He truly turns a fool

"Okay, if you don't look at me and talk, I'm taking my stuff and eating at home. I won't stay in a place I'm ignored" you say. You're not proud for playing like this, but sometimes Cheol just doesn't give you any other chance.

"WHY!?" he turns around with a loud tug of the knife on the dashboard, and when he looks at you he has a big pout, and you have to stop yourself from smiling, scrunching your nose in the process, he looks cute "I'm cooking for you" he adds, brows screaming frustration.

"Tell me what's bothering you" you demand.

"You know what it is, I don't get why are you pressing me to say it" He replies.

"I don't know if you don't tell me" You reason.

He buffs out air, half annoyed, half irritated, this man has a big ego when it comes to admit anything. "I don't like him and you know that" He finally shoots.

"I do know" you simply respond. "But you can't just get like this every time he's the same place we are" you conclude.

"I won't if he stays a few meters away" he says, all serious and you can't help but laugh. He looks at you even more annoyed "You think it's funny?"

"I'm sorry" you say, recovering, your face red from a loud laugh. "We know each other, Seungcheol... We won't just act like we don't. That's quite impolite, actually" you say.

The silence takes the room as he throws himself on the chair beside yours, leaning his head to the side as he breathes out quietly "I know..." he stays staring at somewhere far as he adds "but we can still run away before he sees us"

"Seungcheol!" you scold, but finding it funny again.

He has a sad look, like a kid who just got rejected a candy. You reach for his hand that is resting on his lap and entrelace your fingers together as he looks at you. "I'm sorry" He says, pouting, taking his face closer, resting his cheeks on your chest while looking up at you.

You smile, taking a piece of strain hair from his face before caressing his hair. "You are?" you tease, and he closes his eyes, brushing his head until he's safe on the nap of your neck, humming as an answer as you giggle again.

"I forgive you if the dinner tastes great" you joke. He kisses the line where your neck and shoulders connects and looks up again.

"You know I'm competitive" He grins, making his way back to the kitchen and to work.

"Do I? Prove me once again, and maybe you get a reward for being good" you shoot a look.

"I'll be good" he says, taking his back to you again after sending you a wink.

[im4rmy]

bf!jaemin x fem!reader (idol AU) II

IMAGINE: you call him crying after a tough shift.

tw: mention of death and grief⚠️

• you step out of the hospital with heavy steps, you can barely breathe while you reach your car parked not too far. you unlock it and sit inside at lightning speed, throwing your bag in the back without care.

• today was horrible, the worst day of your life, for real. and all you wanna do now is... crying your heart out. and so you do. you cling to the steering wheel and sob for like 10 minutes before you decide that you'll not be able to drive home in this state.

• you take your phone and scroll down your contact list and... you linger on a specific name. would it be weird to call him? you two are kinda official now... kinda. you slept together, you had tone of dates but you never even went to his house or viceversa.

• you know he would be perfect about it, of course he would. but still- he didn't see you barefaced, ever, and now you are still in your uniform, your tired face wet from your tears. fuck it, you desperately need to go away from this place.

• 📞"hello?" "h-hi... mhh am i b-bothering you? *sniff*" "not at all, i'm at the gym- is everything okay?"

• you try to answer but everything that comes out from your mouth is a pathetic sob.

• jaemin stills in front of the gym bench where jeno's already exercising, with a concerned expression and his phone pressed to his ear.

• 📞"are you crying?"

• you just sniff a few times in response, still unable to talk.

• 📞"what's wrong? are you okay?"

• he's now packing his things, ready to leave and getting his gym buddy's attention.

• 📞"i- just, i can't drive. would you- can you come pick me up?" "of course honey. where are you?" "i'm still at t-the hospital" "wait for me okay?" "mhmh"

• you hang up immediately and resume your crying session against the steering wheel.

• jeno looked at jaemin confused. "what's happening?" "i need to take home y/n from work" "why?" "i don't know, she's- not feeling well i guess. she was crying"

• "her job must be so hard, i could never" "i agree but- she doesn't look stressed or tired, never. i don't know if she just masks it very well... anyway, gotta go"

• when you spot the black and expensive car pulling up in front of the staff entrance of the hospital, you stand up from your seat on the concrete and wipe your cheeks for the hundredth time. you walk to the car door and go in trying to regain some composure.

• "hi" "hi"

• jaemin doesn't say or ask anything before starting to drive away. you try to speak a few times but you REALLY don't know what to say, plus you're sure you would end up crying.

• "are you hungry?" you just nod and jaemin mumbles a soft 'okay'

• you just focus on your breathing keeping your gaze out of the car window, until you notice where you are: a drive-through. jaemin stops his car next to the menu stand and looks at you.

• "what do you want?" you take a deep breath. "the burger menu, large. and a chocolate donut... please"

• jaemin lets out a little chuckle before pressing the mic button to order. then he wears a random black face mask found somewhere and drives till the payment spot.

• in ten minutes, you're parked in a super-market parking lot, deserted. it would've been creepy if you weren't with the sweetest man you ever met, biting on the biggest (and free!) burger you ever had in your life, watching variety show on his phone on youtube.

• giggles and big ass laughs escape both your mouths while you finish the cheapest meal you had with him, used to take you to fancy restaurant and hotels.

• but when the episode is over and your burger as well, you know it's time to give him an explanation, even if he wouldn't dare to ask why were you in such a state.

• "thank you... for coming, i mean. and for the food, of course" he just smiles looking at you sweetly "are you feeling any better?"

• you nod and sigh, facing in front of you. "today- um, a-a child... he came in almost two months ago" you feel tears approaching again, "he died today. we couldn't save him" you press your hands on your eyes and let out a sob.

• "oh y/n, i'm so sorry" you feel his warm arms around you in no time, letting yourself cry in his embrace while you grieve the loss of your patient.

• "he was eight and the sweetest human being on earth... why- how can something like this happen?" "i really don't know, i'm so sorry baby"

• he keeps on holding you untill you calm down, giving you some kisses here and there. "what can i do for you?"

• you sniff and think about it: you don't want him to leave. "can you stay with me?" "of course princess. what if we go at mine, i can prepare you a warm bath, you can wear my clothes and we can cuddle on my king-sized bed. what do you think?" "i love it"

• and that's how you understood that na jaemin was one to keep close. and you met his cats that night!

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

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[thesweetnessofspring]

Mutual you know I love you and respect your opinions but I just CANNOT get behind you hating on Katniss being related to the covey 😭 what did she do to you????❗️

Look I totally get not wanting everything to be interconnected and like "fate" and stuff because part of the value of THG is that there's no chosen one. So like I understand and appreciate and enjoy that reading of it

But I don't think Katniss being covey ruins that? I think it's more to show the same group of people being routinely oppressed over and over again. Not to mention 12 is a small district, so I guess it just doesn't bother me so much. But I'd love to hear more of your opinion

I don't like it because:

There are NO INDICATIONS of Katniss being Covey from the original trilogy. Maude Ivory and Katniss both being quick to learn new music was put in during TBOSAS, but other than the songs, there is no other definite evidence of the Covey even existing. And because Katniss seemingly knows nothing about the Covey, I genuinely hate the idea that a Covey-Mr. Everdeen never shared his culture with her, other than songs, which don't necessarily have to be limited to the Covey's culture anyway. And before anyone mentions the lake or woods, TBOSAS says other people went there too, Francis is the one who made the movie say only the Covey knew about it but that's not canon. There is a fiddle player from 12 in MJ, so if he were Covey, where are Mr. Everdeen's instruments? Where is a hint of a Covey name for Katniss or Prim (like maybe just a ballad or just a color, something inconspicuous but important)? I can accept a culture being snuffed out/going way underground in 12 without Katniss knowing about it and thus we only get the smallest clues about its existence, but I can't accept that her father was part of that culture and didn't share it with his kids or even leave any clear indication it was part of him. Especially when he works such a dangerous job and his death could mean all memory and knowledge of his people might disappear. And I mean, he was willing to sing The Hanging Tree so it's not like he wasn't willing to risk giving his children forbidden knowledge.

As you mentioned, the whole "fate" thing. Lucy Gray was rigged to be reaped, but Prim was random chance. It shows you can do everything "right" (i.e. not be made a target by the Capitol, not take out tessarae, be the youngest age with the least amount of slips) and random odds don't care. You can be reaped. I see Katniss being Covey making the "it was rigged for Prim to be reaped" theories happen all over again, like Snow knew and wanted to kill off the Everdeen line. Now, in TUC, Suzanne plays with the idea of if something is fate or our own choices, so I can see a similar theme play out in the background here if a reader chooses to explore it. Was there some kind of fate that Lucy Gray used to bring about Katniss and Peeta going into the Games together? But I don't like the idea of it being a bloodline thing. I'd rather it be from Katniss's merit, like Lucy Gray's ghost observed her in the woods and chose her to be the Mockingjay and knew that Peeta would be the one to get her there as he is Snow's foil.

A non-Covey Katniss still shows that the same people are oppressed over and over. D12 is as a whole, even the merchants, though they certainly benefit from certain privileges those in the Seam don't have. But Katniss, who is Seam, is incredibly oppressed as well, as have the generations before her. And again, saying that Prim being reaped and Katniss going into the Games shows that one group (the Covey) is a more oppressed group supports the "Prim's reaping was rigged" theory that is such bullshit.

I don't see anything being gained in terms of the themes. Katniss may be a "chosen one" in a sense, but she was a girl who loved her sister, and Rue, and Peeta, and got caught up in being the Mockingjay. Making her Covey turns her into a traditional "chosen one" and it just does not jive with the theme of THG or Katniss's character at all. If the Capitol is built on the same 15 families having power, then why would that be replicated in the rebellion with the Covey being the "chosen ones" to bring down Snow? As if because Lucy Gray was betrayed by Coriolanus, those of her people are the ones who must take him down as well. Not because Katniss and the districts have been oppressed and so it's something she feels bound to do as a duty to the people, as she realizes in MJ. Katniss was used by some of those powerful families, but she wasn't powerful in that way. Making her Covey gives her extra mythology that goes against this idea and makes her "special" even if she wasn't special until that Reaping Day.

The fact that the district is small is why I'm not bothered by Haymitch and Mrs. Everdeen having some kind of history (it's there in CF, so it is an original part of the story) or even if Mr. Everdeen makes an appearance! I'm from a big city but it's wild hearing how some of the older generations in my circle are connected and now that I'm an adult, knowing about the relationships and drama that happened to my older siblings' cohort (especially as their kids are now becoming teens and learning some of that history). Life does connect in interesting ways! My personal favorite theory is that Mr. Everdeen hung around the Covey and learned music from them (maybe Haymitch was even a little intimidated thinking Lenore Dove would prefer Mr. Everdeen to him?) but making Mr. Everdeen's connection a family connection (blood or adopted) really sinks the themes of the original and Katniss's role.

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #7410:

Those people are playing with fictional dollies in a corner of the internet where blocking and ignoring has long been a thing. If you're in a position where seeing a pair of fictional drawings kissing will give you psychic damage AND you can't ignore it after rolling your eyes or making an "ew" face (something people often but don't expand on because why bother?), maybe that's your problem, not other peoples', and you should avoid those tags etc, like the rest of us. It's also very telling that people in certain fandoms are totally okay with certain kinds of abusive ships, but simply go after people writing the "wrong" kinds of abusive ship, but as soon as any other kinds of ships are present, they will flip out. They'll yell at someone for shipping the Lannisters, while concurrently reposting fanart of Will bleeding to death where Hannibal, who has a knife in his pocket suggesting he did the deed, is holding him adoringly. Drawing gore is somehow fine, but a ship where the characters are eighteen and nineteen is the devil's spawn, even though both in real life are bad, and on paper, neither character is being harmed. They are concepts, dollies, not real people.

Like, "bad ship" has no meaning - it's become a stupid matter of "my fictional thing is fine, yours crosses the line, even though technically, it's just as bad, or not bad at all" because... It's all. Bloody. Fiction. Yet nobody's going to bat an eyelash if someone watches the Saw movies, or if someone is a horror aficionado and loves horror movies in general, but so many people, especially younger kids, have issues with sexual content in particular. It's just a rebrand of Christian puritanism and moral paranoia. Everything and everyone is a pedo to them. They look at new media through the lens of "I must ensure this show, person, etc isn't a pedo". Yeah, there are creepy people on the internet, some people get off on certain stuff. It doesn't mean everyone who draws an age gap ship is a creep - just like how everyone who likes gore isn't a murderer, even though there are, indeed, people who get off on murder. There are kinks for literally everything. I mean, there's an entire website devoted to celebrity feet for Christ's sakes. But for some reason, nobody ever looks at fictional depictions of non-sexual abuse (or even anything else), and wonders if someone is getting off on that. But a lot of people still are. Nothing is sacred.

If someone is posting graphic content of something in a tag, they should be tagging it. With scenarios like that, MAYBE (emphatically) you could make a case for it being "harmful". But even then, this is the internet. Fandom spaces are not like Club Penguin, they do not have a responsibility to assume the burden of parenting or making someone's individual choices for them or clearing out as soon as a minor is in the space, and there's an inherent knowledge that we all will, at some point, run into things that gross us out because fandom spaces are a melting pot of different ideas.

And you have a right to be grossed out by a lot of stuff. There's a lot of disturbing, weird, icky shit out there. But it's not about harassing the people who make it, who have shown no signs of actually being a bad person. It's about putting the onus on yourself, like an adult, to avoid the content. There's no use in self-harming by seeking stuff out, going into certain tags, etc when there's a high chance you'll see something that squicks you. Because at the end of the day, you are responsible for your own content consumption and browsing, and you are responsible for understanding the risks of being in certain spaces. If someone is unable to understand this, and cannot exercise self-control, they shouldn't be in those spaces, possibly online at all.

Signed, a very, very bone-tired fandomgoer of 40+ years.

[skimmingmilk]

ooo now i'm curious, tell us more about drift! 👀

i'm assuming, like his name implies, he "drifts" around and just does whatever he wants?

You got it! Drift's name came from a couple of things. First, it's the game mechanic when you take tight corners while boosting as Sonic xD But also, it can mean being carried along by the wind or water, so fitting for a pirate world and also compatible with Sails's name :) And then the big thing is that he's so adrift in his own life. Just completely and utterly directionless.

Drift lives alone on an island in the middle of No Place. He can't swim, so he's not about to go live a life on the open seas. Most of the planet is under water, with scattered islands spread out across the ocean.

Now, he doesn't let it bother him! He doesn't need much, his island is lush and peaceful. It's okay that he can't really run anywhere, the island's not that big, he can cross it in less than fifteen minutes just walking. He likes living life worry-free, without a care in the world. He naps in hammocks all day long, plays his guitar, and eats seaweed salads and drinks out of coconuts xD He has absolutely no drive to do anything. No purpose. No point. And he's happy. He doesn't care that he's stuck in one place because his island is beautiful and he's alone! No one telling him what to do, no one expecting anything of him. It's just him, nature, and peace.

This probably doesn't sound too bad, right? Except, it's Sonic. An aimless Sonic who sees absolutely nothing wrong with lying on a beach all day, every day, alone, forever. He's Sonic's carefree nature dialed up to the point where he couldn't care less. Without anything to run towards, he doesn't run at all. Without anything to live for, he's not even really living.

He's also very talkative despite being alone. Drift got the whole slice of the talking pie xD Sharp might have a sharp tongue, but he also isn't compelled to say everything that's on his mind and Bur (originally Snare, but I think Bur works better for his character, like the little spiky seed balls that get stuck on clothes or in animal fur) is non-verbal. So it's safe to say, Sonic's most annoying qualities went to Drift, lol.

When Drift finally has some company - in the form of Rouge and Knuckles landing on his island for a change - all he's got to offer them are carefree conversations and coconuts, no way home in sight. Just miles of ocean.

"Haven't you ever wanted to at least see what else is out there?" Knuckles demanded. Eyes still closed, Drift lazily waved his hand towards the endless blue expanse beyond the edge of his beach. "Take a long look, pal. That's all there is." "You can't know that!" Knuckles smacked the palm tree with the side of his fist, the whole thing swaying along with the hammock and finally coaxed the hedgehog to crack one eye open and peer up at him. "If you've never left this island, how could you know that there isn't something more for you?" Drift clicked his tongue, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he folded his arms behind his quills. "You tell me, big guy. What could be better than this? Now d'ya mind? You're kinda blocking my sun."

Knuckles can't stand him xD Rouge is just annoyed and wants to find a way back as soon as possible. But the two of them give him a little more perspective, even if he doesn't outwardly show it - because it is pretty fun to annoy them, he's never had real people to mess with - and when Tails shows up, it becomes clear that Drift is fully aware of how he's not actually free. Not caring is his way of coping, convincing himself that he couldn't possibly want more because he can't have it when the world has nearly drowned. But after connecting with both Tails and Knuckles, Drift decides life's no fun without taking a chance or two, so he decides to go with them when they finally leave the island.

Then they'll run across a familiar pirate ship we all know and love, and Drift will find both a purpose and adventure waiting for him aboard <3 He and Sails hit it off almost instantly, to the surprise of absolutely no one, lol. They bond the quickest out of all the variants.

Drift likes to hang out in the crow's nest because "it's the farthest from the water that I can get" and that's where Sails likes to hang out, too, when he doesn't feel like partying and wants somewhere to tinker on his contraptions. Sails thinks he's funny and Drift thinks he's clever. They understand each other's longing for freedom and purpose, but they worry about the price. Drift doesn't want to be anchored to anything and Sails worries he's only valuable as a member of a crew, that on his own, he's nothing. They both fill a need they didn't know they had, and they recognize it straightaway.

"Well... if ye every feel like yer being dragged down here," Sails hummed as he looked out at the edge of the horizon, "I'll fly ye up and out." "Oh yeah?" Drift snorted, but his muzzle quirked in genuine amusement. "Wouldn't that be considered mutiny?" "Can ye really mutiny if ye don't even have a proper captain?" Sails sighed dramatically, coaxing a chuckle out of his companion. "It keeps changin' every day! They keep... they keep abandonin' us," he said, his voice soft, but there was a frustrated edge to it lying just beneath the surface. "Why shouldn't any of us leave?" "Then why don't ya?" Sails pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "I've only ever been any good as a part of a crew. Even if all I ever do is help throw parties and act as lookout. At least I'm doin' something for someone." "A fair point," Drift agreed idly. "Well, guess it'll just depend then. How far can those tails of yours carry ya?" Sails looked over at him and shrugged. "Don't know," he answered honestly. "But so far, they've gotten me where I've needed to go. Can't promise they'll do the same for ye, but... I can promise I'll try." Drift glanced at him, and the sea breeze suddenly wasn't all that cold as a warm smile spread across his face. "I'll hold ya to it," he chuckled.

I haven't written much for them, I still need to figure out exactly when in the show they meet (right now I have it outlined for right after the episode "No Way Out" but I haven't fully pieced together each sequence of events), but I know I love them and they're wonderful~

Thanks for asking about my other problem child Drift! <3

[floodonthefloor]

first of all: sorry for any grammar mistakes i may have here english is not my first language but doing my best <3 pedestal was very special to me and even though ive probably read all the Rhaenicent fanfics i think it occupies my first place today. i know you are considering doing some extra chapters so if you have any suggestions:

would love to see a chapter from rhaenyra's pov when she saw the mark on alicent’s shoulder for the first time. i think it would be very interesting to see her dying inside and then spending the next few days writhing at home and then decides to go to alicent's apartment. 

okay, actually i said i had some suggestions but in reality this is the most special and the only one worth my time coming here to spend my bad english. love uuu sam

you know what! i wasn't planning on writing a pov for rhaenyra for that but i will do it for you here is my little freeform extra snippet for u! also your english is great for someone who does not speak it as your first language!!!

Rhaenyra spends the entirety of her drive back home from the courthouse trying and failing to think of the last time she's felt like this—

Angry, hurt, turned on, uselessly yearning, desperate—

— because if Rhaenyra can think of other times she's felt like this, it would mean she's gotten through them just fine; that it's not like she hasn't felt like this before, so fucking whatever.

But— by the time she steps inside of her flat— she still hasn't figured it out. She still doesn't think she's ever felt this way before for anyone in her entire life.

Someone else marked her.

Alicent let someone else fuck her.

And Rhaenyra's never been a huge proponent of the whole hard to get play; has never really seen the point in it, really. I want you. Why should I make that a problem to solve? She's found it childish at best and obstructive at worst; when she wants someone, she tells them, and then it's up to them what they do with that information. Nine times out of ten, it works.

Alicent Hightower is one of them.

Rhaenyra gets home and doesn't bother turning on the lights — the dark suits her just fine right now. She drops her bag near the door, shrugs off her coat. Tries to roll out the tension in her shoulders, tilting her head one way, then the other, but nothing fucking helps.

Who was she? Did she know what she had? Did she have to convince Alicent, or did Alicent want her?

Rhaenyra stops in the middle of the living, shuts her eyes, wills herself not to think about it, it doesn't matter it doesn't matter— except it fucking does.

Alicent let someone else fuck her, and Rhaenyra shouldn't feel this way; she has no claim to her, they aren't anything, they weren't anything, not in any way that counted, not in any way that would have this constitute anything like betrayal— and still, it feels like one.

It feels mechanical and automatic when Rhaenyra readies herself for bed and settles in— like her body is doing the things required of it while her mind just keeps thinking about it.

Worst yet— despite the anger and the jealousy of it sitting heavy in her chest— she still wants her. Rhaenyra, in the safety of her own penthouse, does the dangerous thing; she starts imagining it. She starts imagining the events that led to those teeth marks on Alicent's shoulder, the kind of spiral she can't pull herself out of.

She's alone— no one's there to see her, no one's there to pull her back. So she lets herself sink into it. Lets the ugly thoughts come.

(But they're not ugly. Not even a fucking little.)

It's Alicent, her hair spilled over unfamiliar sheets. Alicent, parting her lips for someone else. Alicent, making the kind of sounds Rhaenyra can coax out of her, the kind Rhaenyra knows by heart, the kind Rhaenyra earned.

Rhaenyra's fingernails curl against her palm as she keeps trying to picture it— forces herself to see it. Tries to imagine the moment it happened. Was it quick? An impulse? A flash of heat in the dark?

What did she say? Did she cry out her name? Did she say please, did the person fucking her call her a good girl like Alicent loves?

It sinks its teeth into her like whoever fucking did with Alicent's shoulder; did that happen when Alicent came, or did Alicent make someone else come? Rhaenyra thinks of the way Alicent can be in bed; so utterly uninhibited, so desperate and needy and unapologetic about it, as though she's making up for a lifetime of wanting and feeling terrible for wanting in these hidden moments between sheets.

Did you let yourself be handled the way you like, Alicent? Did you arch into it? Let her press closer, let yourself be taken apart piece by piece? Did you think about me? Did you pull her in? Did you let her ruin you? Did you come? How many times? Did you make her come, too? How many times?

Rhaenyra swallows, her throat dry— doesn't want to think about this, doesn't want to let it wrap around her like this like a constrictor, but her body is betraying her just like Alicent's betrayed her —

No, not betrayed— she's not yours and you're not hers and there is nothing to betray—

She shifts again, heat coiling lowlowlow in her stomach, her thighs pressing together, and she's slick with want and she fucking hates it. She's slipping a hand beneath her sheets, letting her fingers drift lower, thinking about Alicent beneath a shadowed stranger thinking about —

The way you moan, the way you touch yourself when you're close and I'm inside you, the way you circle your own nipples when I'm going down on you and how you beg me for it Alicent Alicent Alicent —

[accio-sriracha]

"How are you feeling today?"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Remus stared, he could feel the indignation forming his features before he could catch himself,

"Fine." He replied.

The word was short, his voice clipped.

He didn't care. They both knew why he was here.

Dumbledore watched him for a moment, that same twinkle in his eyes even after all these years. The one Remus used to trust. The one he used to believe held any sort of knowledge.

He didn't believe it anymore.

"Mr. Lupin..." Dumbledore started.

"Albus." He cut him off.

It was disrespectful, crude even.

He meant it as such.

"Remus..." Dumbledore corrected, misinterpreting his intentions.

Remus wasn't surprised. Dumbledore was clearly out of touch these days. That is, if he'd ever been anything more than an idiot all along.

"I understand your anger."

"Is that so?" Remus couldn't bite back the venom in his tone.

"It is."

"Explain it to me, then." Remus leaned forward, placing his hands on the headmaster's desk, "How you could be so calm in letting them get away with this."

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can d-"

"Shut up!" Remus shouted, shoving back from the desk.

He was going to get in trouble for this, he was sure of it.

He didn't care.

"You have power, Dumbledore." He hissed, "You have a voice. And yet you sit here and you do nothing."

Dumbledore's eyes tracked Remus as he paced. Remus was seething in his anger, in this injustice.

"He was found guilty, Remus."

"But he's INNOCENT!"

The words tore out of him like a sob, he slammed his fist against the desk, glaring at the man in front of him, at the coward,

"You know he's innocent. You know he would never-"

"War does horrible things to people." Dumbledore reminded him.

As if Remus needed the reminder.

As if he hadn't just lost everything in one night.

He felt a tear run down his face, he didn't bother with scrubbing it away.

He wanted Dumbledore to see this. To see his weakness. To feel his pain.

Maybe then he would admit he was wrong.

"You're wrong." He told him anyways. Because it was true. Remus knew it.

Sirius was innocent.

Dumbledore sighed, a pitiful thing, "I can't do anything for him now, Mr. Lupin."

"You can- you-" He choked on his words, "You're just afraid. You know there's evil out there and you're too scared to face it yourself."

"The evil has been vanquished. Harry Potter-"

"Don't you dare say his name!" Remus shouted, "You don't know him. You don't know any of them!"

"You need to calm down, Mr. Lupin." Dumbledore advised, his voice was more stern now. The paintings in the office were all watching them in interest.

"Sirius is innocent. You need to fix this." Remus spoke through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but stopped suddenly as the door opened.

Remus didn't turn, he didn't care about anything else.

Dumbledore could fix this.

Sirius was innocent.

Dumbledore could make this right.

"Remus..." Mcgonagall's voice pierced the silence.

Remus froze.

For the last week he'd been a wreck. ScreamIng and crying and throwing hexes at anything he could manage.

Everyone was gone.

They'd taken Harry to live with Lily's sister, with near strangers. No matter how many times Remus begged to be his guardian they wouldn't allow it.

A werewolf wasn't fit to be a guardian.

"Remus." Mcgonagall spoke again, softer this time.

And Remus heard it. The break in her voice, the agony he'd felt every minute since he'd gotten the news.

He turned and rushed into her arms.

And she held him, strong and sure and safe.

"Remus, I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"They're gone, Minnie." He cried.

It hadn't even been a year yet since they'd left Hogwarts.

Mcgonagall was at the wedding, front and center with rest of the marauders and James' family.

She'd been there for Lily's shower. She stayed with them the longest as they said goodbye, as James and Lily left to hide themselves, to keep Harry safe.

She felt it too.

She'd loved them all like her own. All those years, Remus never knew a fonder look than that of her own when they joined her for tea in her office.

"I know..." Mcgonagall whispered.

Remus had never called her Minnie before. He'd always chided the others for their lack of manners. She was to be respected, after all.

He understood it now.

"I'm so sorry, Minnie. I-" He held her tightly, face pressed against the fabric of her robes.

She held him too, holding him together, keeping him from breaking apart even further,

"It's not your fault."

Remus leaned away, just enough to meet her eyes. She seemed startled by what she found in his own.

"It's not Sirius' either." He told her. There was such a quiet fury there, such passion, he even surprised himself.

There was a hesitation, a flicker of something deeper than he'd ever seen her express. Her gaze sweeped passed Remus to settle briefly on Dumbledore.

"I know."

[crowley-winter-boots]

Instead of humouring the messages in the screenshot, I would like to make a post regarding people who think this way. DO NOT LOOK FOR THIS INDIVIDUAL OR HARASS THEM. I know people like to jump the gun and do that online, so please don't bother with it. I am making this post to address, that you can in fact, still protest without attending mass protests and that not everyone is able to attend those mass protests.

(*Notice how I didn't "name call", I said "I won't reply anymore as I'm PRETTY SURE you're trolling." I was making an observation based on past experiences, and I'm still convinced they were only saying this to cause problems.)

You CAN still protest without going to larger protests. Its OKAY if you can't attend those large protests.

Here are some ways you can help out if you're unable to go to a protest!

Spread the word

One of the best ways to get people to attend is to tell other people about it! The more people that know, the more that can know when and where to show up.

Find a way that fits you to do something as an individual

There are a few ways you can go about this, but here is what I've personally been doing:

- I've been wearing a pride flag to school. Specifically, the trans flag. Pride flags banned from hanging up in schools? Nothing in the dress code that denies it. It will make people angry and confused, but it will also make people like you feel seen. I've had a lot of negative reactions from students and teachers alike, but there have been fellow queer kids who walk up to me and talk to me about my flag, often saying they wish they had one of their own. I'm planning on painting "WE THE PEOPLE" on it soon (I was going to this weekend, but there was too much going on and I didn't want to start a project I couldn't finish before school on Monday.)

- Make a battle vest (or any other punk fashion, such as crust pants!) I've been working on mine, and will post the patches and progress soon. I've been meaning to make one for a while for myself, but put it off until recently. I'll also make a post going more into detail on how you can make punk fashion yourself, and the ideology of punks.

**PLEASE NOTE. Both of these can be dangerous. Especially wearing a pride flag, as there is't anything that can make it safer. With the punk fashion, there are ways to make it safer, and I'll go more into detail on that on my other post: but essentially, you don't want any political statements or pride flags on the back. You won't see anyone coming, and they'll be less likely to attack you if they see it from the front.

Talk to local activist groups to set one up in your area

I'm not too sure about how this process works, as I haven't yet contacted any local activist groups to set up a protest. I'm not even sure if that's how you CAN set up a protest, but I asked around and this was the answer I had gotten. I'll make an update once I figure out how to set up a protest and if I personally was able to (and the details of the protest, ofc!)

Make signs or stickers to post in your community

There are a lot of ways you can make signs and/or stickers! I've never made a sign myself, so you'll have to do the research yourself for that, but you could make them as flyers with paper as well. But with stickers, they're relatively easy to make! I sold some for a while, and made about $250 off of it in just a few weeks by selling them on my school campus. You just need a pack of sticker paper (GLOSSY makes it shiny, MATTE makes it flat like printer paper,) a printer, and some kind of art app to import your images on. Fitting stickers is like a jigsaw puzzle- you'll need to rotate them at weird angles and fit any nook into any cranny. Find patterns, repeating patterns will make the process easier. The goal is to have as little white space as possible- but that being said, leave enough room between each sticker to give a solid border. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was overlapping the edges.

Join communities online

Discord servers are a good way to find online communities for people who want to oppose the American government! I am in a server that shares resources, information, protest days, and more. I can share the link in DMs, and you can also look online to find more.

Start a social media platform

That's what my blog is for! I'm posting online as a form of protest. There are a number of social media platforms (except Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok....) that you can advocate on. I do believe Tumblr and YouTube are the safest ones, and therefore have the biggest communities on there.

Buy banned books

THESE WON'T BE SOLD ANYMORE, SOON. They are information and knowledge the government is afraid of. The Diary of Anne Frank is on the list, which just goes to show how far they're going in this. They know they're fascists. They know America is going through the same beginning stages of a fascist dictator's overtake of a country. You can find a lot of these secondhand before they're gone. Find PDFs online of the books and download them in a place they can't be deleted. Physical copies are much better to have as they can't be taken away.

Pirate and get physical copies of music

Alphatron, FMovies, those are good sites for live action. WCO.tv is a good site for cartoons (and as far as I know, perfectly legal online archive!)

Learn how to burn CDs. Collect CDs. Collect vinyl records. And please, for the love of the Gods, DON'T USE SPOTIFY. I used Spotify because it was the easiest option for me, but they financially supported Trump's campaign. I switched to YouTube Music. Even the free version of Spotify supports the company- every song you listen to and every advertisement you sit through puts more coins into their bank account. I also have a vinyl collection I've been growing for 3-4 years. I'm thinking about learning how to burn CDs and get a Walkman (I currently don't have money, but I'm looking to get a job soon.) Like with the banned books, physical copies are the best. They'll have to pry it from your cold, dead hands.

That's all I have for now!! Feel free to add onto this with your own ways to protest and/or additional information from what I've already put.

[radioiaci]

"Such a useful thing you are," Alastor griped. He had many complaints about the way this had gone, not the least of which the new wound he had in his shoulder. At the very least, it had not been as bad as the axe that had nearly severed him entirely. But still - it was not a picnic of a laceration.

Alastor had some modicum of knowledge on Asmodean crystals, though he'd never bothered to look more into their purpose and use. A secret he kept close to himself was his ability to traverse the rings freely - to handle business on behalf of his benefactor and nothing else. And so he did not employ it often, nor was he very interested in doing so.

He, like any other Sinner, however, would not be permitted to return to the surface. That was a dangerous allowance that not even he had been afforded.

As they stepped together, Alastor tried to orient himself, staring upwards at the Pentagram against the reddened sky.

"We can't be far from a main road, at least. Then we can determine our way back from there. But I will have some explaining to do about what happened." And warnings to give. Defenses to shore up. If the exorcists had seen it as a comical bit to simply level a part of a district for fun, then there was nothing that was off limits, he was sure. Rogue party or not.

"Do you see any major street signs?" He said after a few moments. Vision still somewhat blurred, anything too far off was a bit too far for him to see. His vision, as it was, was not fantastic.

Could she use the same trick to get them back to the hotel? Probably, yes. But the more portals she opened, the more she ran the risk of Alastor recognizing her little parlor trick for what it really was. Asmodean Crystals, she had gathered, were not exactly a common commodity in Hell - least of all amongst Sinners, who were damned eternally to the Pride Ring, unable to travel between the levels of Hell let alone to and from the mortal plane. They'd had their chance.

And normally, using the crystal to pop right back on over to the Hazbin Hotel would be a great idea! But she'd already shown her hand once, and only because it had been a life or death situation, and Alastor had already been so disoriented he probably didn't even fully realize what had happened.

But with him slowly clawing his way back to awareness, she didn't want to risk it.

"Wish I could," she said - and really, she meant it! She very much wished she could just use her crystal and get them back to the Hotel with little trouble, but she knew that Alastor catching wind of what her little trinket could really do would only be a can of worms she didn't want to open.

She wasn't even sure, really, if he'd ever heard of Asmodean Crystals, or knew what most Hellborn demons used them for. But as he bore a bit of his weight on her, and they trudged towards something familiar, she really didn't want to find out.

[too-many-plants]

nothing more american than hundreds of volunteers and thousands of dollars and the full weight of the justice system being mobilized to solve the killing of dog but absolutely nothing being done in the same town when two indigenous women were found murdered