#as long as I make it through the night without freaking out over every tiny noise outside rip

[chaoticeddie]

someone tried to scam me out of $1000 today

[awkward-walking-potato]

here’s a Logan idea for you. I dunno if you remember randonauting on tiktok a few years back, but what if reader, Logan, Wade, and Mary puppins went randonauting together? Their intention (goal of what they want to find) was scary/creepy, so the app takes them to an abandoned hospital/school/somewhere creepy and they go investigate. Reader is pretty freaked out so they hold onto Logan who’s unbothered by the whole thing, and wade is trying to act tough but is also freaked out and is holding Mary puppins. What if while investigating they stumble across something much worse than they were expecting and what happens after that? I’ll leave that up to you, thank you!

Randonauting with the X-Force

The night air was crisp, the stars barely visible against the inky sky as you, Logan, Wade, and Mary Puppins stood huddled around the glow of a smartphone screen. The app had brought you to the outskirts of town, near an old road that led into the woods. Wade, ever the instigator, had suggested Randonauting after watching too many TikTok videos. You’d all agreed, thinking it would be a fun way to kill time—something different for the X-Force, a team not typically known for taking leisurely night walks.

“So, what’s our intention again?” you asked, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. You were nervous but trying to play it cool.

Wade grinned under his mask, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Scary and creepy, obviously. You know, the kind of stuff that makes your skin crawl.”

Logan snorted, his gruff voice cutting through the night. “You do realize this app is probably just some random number generator, right? It’s not gonna lead us to anything ‘creepy.’”

“Aw, c’mon, Wolverine! Where’s your sense of adventure?” Wade retorted, his voice oozing with sarcasm. “Besides, you’re with me, the bravest of the brave, and Mary Puppins here—what could go wrong?”

Mary Puppins, Wade’s tiny dog, barked enthusiastically, her barely fluffy ears perking up at the sound of her name. She was nestled in Wade’s arms, looking far too cheerful for the spooky mission you were about to embark on. Despite her small size, she had a big personality, and Wade insisted on bringing her along on every adventure.

Logan just rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

The app pinged, directing you all to a location deeper in the woods, just beyond an old, rusted gate. The path was overgrown, long forgotten, and unsettlingly quiet. The further you walked, the darker it got, the trees closing in around you.

Eventually, the narrow path opened into a clearing where an abandoned building loomed. It was an old, decaying hospital, the kind you’d see in a horror movie, with broken windows and vines creeping up the sides. The air felt heavier here, as if the very atmosphere was trying to warn you away.

“Of course it’s a creepy, abandoned hospital,” you muttered, stepping closer to Logan. You didn’t want to admit it, but the place was giving you serious chills.

“Yep, totally not haunted,” Wade quipped, though you noticed how close he was standing to Mary Puppins now, his bravado starting to waver.

Logan was the only one who seemed completely unfazed. “You guys sure you wanna go in?”

Mary Puppins gave a soft whine, as if sensing the tension, and Wade gave her a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Daddy’s got you.”

Logan shook his head but pushed open the creaking metal door with one strong shove. The sound echoed through the empty halls, making you jump slightly. He noticed and, without a word, slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His presence was reassuring, a solid anchor in this creepy place.

The inside of the hospital was even worse than the outside. The floors were cracked, debris scattered everywhere, and the walls were covered in peeling paint and graffiti. Old medical equipment lay abandoned in corners, rusting away. The smell of mildew and decay was strong, making your stomach churn.

Wade tried to lighten the mood, though his voice was noticeably higher-pitched. “So, which one of you wants to play doctor? I can be the handsome patient with a mysterious illness, and—”

“Shut it, Wade,” Logan growled, his tone more protective than annoyed.

You couldn’t help but cling a little tighter to Logan as you made your way down the hall. Every shadow seemed to move, and every distant creak made your heart race. Logan, on the other hand, was as calm as ever, his keen senses on high alert but showing no sign of fear.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” he muttered, giving your side a comforting squeeze.

As you ventured deeper into the building, the tension grew. The flickering light from Wade’s phone barely cut through the darkness, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls. You came across an old operating room, the rusty table in the center illuminated by a single, grimy skylight.

“Okay, this is officially the creepiest thing I’ve ever done,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

“Want me to hold your hand too, sweetheart?” Wade joked, though you noticed he was practically glued to Mary Puppins’ side now.

Mary Puppins gave a soft yip, as if agreeing with Wade’s sentiment. Her usual spunky demeanor seemed subdued, and she snuggled closer to Wade, clearly feeling uneasy in the eerie environment.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Let’s keep moving.”

But just as you were about to leave the room, a loud bang echoed from somewhere deeper in the hospital, freezing you all in place.

“What the hell was that?” Wade hissed, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his senses on high alert. “Stay close. It’s probably just an animal or—”

Before he could finish, the door to the operating room slammed shut, plunging the room into complete darkness. You felt a rush of cold air, as if something had moved past you, and panic started to set in.

“Logan?” you whispered, reaching out for him.

“I’m here,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “Stay close.”

The door creaked open again, seemingly of its own accord, and Logan led the way out, his grip on you tightening protectively. You could feel the tension in the air, a strange, oppressive energy that made your skin crawl. Whatever was in this hospital wasn’t just old and abandoned; it felt wrong, like something malicious was watching you.

“We should go,” you urged, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yeah, seconded!” Wade added, his usual bravado completely gone.

Logan nodded. “Agreed. Let’s get out of here.”

As you all hurried back down the hall, the strange noises continued—footsteps that weren’t yours, whispers that seemed to come from the walls themselves. The exit seemed impossibly far, the hospital twisting around you like a maze.

Finally, you burst through the front doors and into the cool night air, the oppressive feeling lifting as soon as you were outside. You were shaking, your heart still racing, but relief washed over you like a wave.

“Well,” Wade said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably, “that was fun. Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed,” you and Logan said in unison, both of you leaning against each other for support.

Logan just shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

You looked up at him, your fear slowly ebbing away now that you were safe. “You were right.”

He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his presence warm and solid. “Next time, we’ll just go for a drink, alright? No more haunted hospitals.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of affection for the gruff, unflappable man beside you. “Deal.”

As you all made your way back to the car, Wade turned to Mary Puppins, his tone half-joking, half-serious. “So, uh, you wanna hold hands on the way back? You know, just in case?”

Mary Puppins gave another soft bark, clearly feeling much better now that the creepy hospital was behind you. Wade chuckled and gave her a gentle scratch behind the ears, his tension easing as well.

Logan shook his head, but you could see the amused glint in his eyes. As terrifying as the night had been, it was moments like these that made you grateful for this strange, mismatched family. Even if you never went Randonauting again, you knew you’d be safe with Logan by your side.

[goldfades]

another jump then fall au thought. adam going on a long roadie (ie west coast teams) after being home with his injury. poor paloma is literally inconsolable bc her dad was just home and all of a sudden he's just gone for like a week and shes still to young to understand. and poor cece doesn't know what to do because no matter how much she tries the first couple days she wont stop crying :(

oh my god, YES!!! and cece just doesn't know what to do and is freaking out bc paloma has never given her a hard time until then

─ warnings mentions of overall exhaustion, babies crying (who would have guessed), and adam being a sweetie AND SOME CECE/ADAM FLUFF????!???!

─ wc 805

Cece's head pounded as Paloma's cries rang throughout the apartment, her body sore and exhausted. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts at this point, Paloma was inconsolable. Adam had stayed home for the last couple of weeks because of his injury and Paloma had gotten so used to it but now that he's gone again, Paloma was devastated.

Cece tried every trick in the book to soothe her. She rocked Paloma gently, sang lullabies and even tried to distract her with her favorite stuffed animal, but nothing seemed to work. Paloma's face was streaked with tears, her tiny fists clenched in frustration.

She felt like she had failed Paloma and Adam, she thought that she could soothe Paloma even in the worst cases but she was quickly proven wrong. She tried everything and yet Paloma's cries only seemed to worsen. Cece's heart ached with a sense of helplessness as she watched the baby she had grown to love suffer in distress.

With a heavy sigh, Cece gently scooped Paloma into her arms, cradling her close. She whispered soothing words, trying to calm both herself and the inconsolable baby. As she paced the apartment, Cece's mind raced with worry and doubt. She questioned her abilities as a nanny, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on her shoulders.

As the night wore on, Paloma's cries slowly subsided, replaced by the rhythm of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. Cece watched over her with a sense of relief, despite the aching she felt in her head. Cece held Paloma on her chest as she fell asleep, not wanting to risk waking her up and starting the whole thing again.

──

"I'm sorry she's been giving you a hard time." Adam's voice rang through the speaker of her phone, echoing in the bathroom. The phone leaned on her water bottle as Cece put on her make-up as Adam talked to her through FaceTime.

Cece gave Adam a tired smile. "No worries, it's all part of the job. I just feel bad because she's probably just as tired as I am, if not more. It takes a lot of energy to cry for 5 hours straight." Cece jokes as Adam's laugh echoed throughout the bathroom.

Adam studied Cece through the phone, she looked exhausted but she still managed to emphasize and smile. That was exactly why he liked her so much.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Adam's voice was filled with genuine admiration as he praised her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cece. You've been such a blessing to us."

Cece's heart swelled with warmth at Adam's words. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her, knowing that she was appreciated made it all worth it.

"Thanks, Adam," she replied, her voice soft with gratitude. "I love being a part of your lives. Paloma means everything to me, and you do too."

He smiled back at through the FaceTime as she continued putting on her makeup. "Let me repay you, Cece."

"You already pay me, Adam, you don't need to-"

"I'm gonna Apple Pay you a couple dollars for a Redbull, okay? You need it." Adam's voice was teasing but she could tell he was trying to make the whole thing easier for her.

Cece couldn't help but chuckle at Adam's gesture. "You're too kind, Adam. But really, I'll survive. Just knowing that you appreciate what I do means more to me than anything."

Adam's smile softened, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. "I know you will, Cece. But I still want to do something to show my gratitude. And plus don't you have that Chem test tomorrow morning?"

Cece groaned at the mention of the test. "Fine, Adam you win."

With a playful grin, Adam nodded triumphantly. "That's my girl. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? You work so hard, I don't want you burning yourself out."

"Thank you, Adam. You're too sweet, you didn't have to." Cece felt a rush of warmth as she heard Adam's words, her heart doing a little flip.

"I know, I wanted to."

Adam's gaze held a tenderness that made Cece's heart flutter. "Well, I appreciate it more than you know," she replied softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Before Adam could reply, Paloma's soft cries were heard from the bedroom. Cece's smile faltered slightly as she heard Paloma's cries, her whole body aching. "Looks like duty calls," she said with a sigh, already moving to attend to Paloma.

Adam nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting his unwavering support. "I'll let you go then. Take care of our little princess, Cece."

Our little princess, that sounded nice coming from Adam. Cece's heart did another flip, her affection for both Adam and Paloma swelling in her chest. "I will," she replied, her voice filled with determination.

main masterlist

jump then fall masterlist

[starwarsmum]

Maribat Mix & Match Monster Mash day 2, Not a Fan of Surprises & Spells

Ladybug and Robin had taken the earliest part of patrol. Partially because they had a lead on something shady, and partially because the annual Halloween bash was happening that night and Marinette had convinced Damian to go with her.

They were ducking into an oversized warehouse when the sound of changing filled the air. They exchanged a look, Robin giving a huff of breath that almost sounded like a sigh before Ladybug crept around the perimeter of the room.

When they were on opposite sides, Ladybug tuned in to whatever the guy in the middle of the room was saying. It wasn't a language she recognised, which made her antsy. She had worked with Zatanna enough to know that if someone was speaking a long dead language, they might just be capable of causing real problems.

Fortunately, it seemed like Halloween was just bringing out the crazies, because when Ladybug swung across the room and kicked over the giant cauldron, the man - who was dressed in a freaking robe - merely screamed and cursed in regular old English. If he had been capable of a spell, he would have used it then and there to stop her.

After that, Robin was efficient in getting the drop on the deluded man, pinning him down and cuffing him. They then had to wait for someone to be free to collect the guy so had to suffer through his whining about how he needed to exact revenge on his coworkers for ignoring his birthday three months ago.

Ladybug sighed as she waited, fighting off a yawn. She didn't want to give Robin any excuse to not take them to the party that she was looking forward to.

_ _ _

“Chéri, please, can we just go to the party and have a nice time?” 

Damian sighed and acquiesced as Marinette pulled out the outfit she had made for him. She gave him a beaming smile and rushed to change into her own outfit. He had agreed several years ago that they would alternate years for wearing costumes and last year had been his year without one.

Stepping into the sitting area of their apartment, he checked over the chef’s outfit Marinette had created for him. She had taken liberties and created a black chef's hat and apron, with a dark green shirt and black trousers. There were intricate details embroidered at the cuffs, collars and hems of everything, shiny green and black threads making it almost impossible to see the miniature swords and flourishes she had created.

“You look so handsome,” Marinette said as she stepped out to join him. He looked at her and marveled at the matching dress she had created. She had a black top half with shining green thread embroidered across it. The green skirt belled out with black thread embroidery. A short white apron was tied around her waist, completely covered in tiny embroidered number fours.

“And you look radiant, my love,” Damian said, drawing her close to kiss her softly. He was careful not to disturb her hair that was twisted into an elegant bun atop her head. “But must we attend this party?”

“Yes, we must! Come on, Dami, I'm expecting a happy event, I would love to spend the evening with our friends. Besides, I worked very hard on our costumes and would like everyone else to tell me how dashing you look.”

“Very well,” Damian sighed, taking hold of her hand and tucking it into his elbow. He had arranged to travel with only Marinette to the party, instead of with the rest of his family because she had been working very hard lately and seemed more tired every day. Having their own transport meant that they could leave whenever it suited them without inconveniencing anyone else.

As they arrived at the party, Damian's family immediately set upon them, cooing over the matching chef and waitress outfits. Marinette preened at their praise and Damian found himself smiling at her pleasure.

They spent time mostly with Jon, who was dressed as a werewolf and kept howling whenever anyone approached to say hello. It was irritating but made Marinette giggle so Damian refrained from asking him to stop.

Marinette had been right, the event was cheerful and, miraculously, they did not have any interruptions from villains. Damian was always vaguely on edge at large events on major holidays, especially Halloween, so it was nice that they hadn't had to fight anyone.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Marinette asked as they drove back to their home. She fiddled with her apron as he assured her that the night was not horrendous and he enjoyed spending time in her company, as always. “I'm surprised that you did not have more questions about my outfit,” she said idly, glancing at him from under her lashes.

Damian parked in their underground parking area linked to their home and turned to frown at her. The waitress theme had been fairly obvious, especially when coupled with his chef one. His eyes swept over her as he helped her out of the car (she had allowed him to open the door for her ever since Alfred had admonished him, years ago, for allowing a young lady to get out by herself) but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be missing.

“Marinette, I don't understand what I am supposed to ask you in regards to your outfit,” he admitted, although his eyes lingered on the apron and its embroidery. She giggled as they entered their apartment and set their alarm. 

“Your French is getting rusty then, mon coeur,” Marinette said, pointing at the fours covering her entire outfit. “They are petit fours, non?”

“...an oven? That is very creative, I admit I was not looking for hidden meanings in our costumes, it was very clever,” Damian admitted, smiling fondly at her. But his brow furrowed when she giggled again and pulled him over to the sofa.

“Yes, I am an oven, Dami, and I have a bun,” she said gently, pointing at her head. He looked at her in confusion until she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “A bun, in the oven? It is, ah, an American phrase, no?”

Damian's mind went completely blank as he stared at his hand on her stomach. It took several moments to collect himself enough to look back up at her face, and when he did she was biting her lip nervously. 

“You are pregnant?” He asked in a hushed voice, wonder and awe filling him until all he could feel was joy. She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face as he slid his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “I am going to be a father?”

“Yes, we are going to be parents,” Marinette said softly, and Damian was overcome with emotion. He hated surprises, ordinarily they brought him nothing but anxiety and anger at not having been able to anticipate something. “Is it okay? I know that we have talked about it and you said that you were not opposed to it-”

Damian cut her off with a kiss, trying to convey just how happy he was that they were taking another step towards creating the life they wanted together.

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 5)

Josh/Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, slight angst, etc

Sleep doesn’t plan on dropping in to visit you tonight, that much is clear. Still, it doesn’t stop you from staring up at the ceiling, longing for it.

If you could just quiet the storm inside your head, if only for a moment or two, you might be able to drift away.

All hope is lost completely when your phone begins to vibrate on the night stand beside you. It crosses your mind to ignore it, but no one calls at this hour for no good reason.

With an exasperated sigh, you roll to your side and grab it up.

“Perfect.” You mutter upon seeing Jake’s name displayed on the screen. Yet another facet stepping up to complicate this shit show of a night even further.

“This better be good.” 3 am phone calls don’t lend themselves to a proper greeting in your book.

“Well, hello to you, too, pretty girl.” He laughs, clearly bright eyed and full of piss and vinegar.

“I’m sleeping, Jacob.” You huff, flopping onto your back once again.

He calls your bluff. Of course he does. “No you’re not. You sound wide awake, and I need someone to keep me company.”

“No pretty young thing to follow you home from your gig tonight?” You ask, though you certainly don’t actually want to know.

He makes a sound in the negative, and then adds, “But if I get really hard up, I can just pop my head out the door and flag down one of the hookers that are loitering around this shit hole of a motel.”

“That bad?”

“I’ll put it this way,” he breathes a wisp of a laugh, “If I were to look under the bed and find a dead body, I wouldn’t be shocked. Not even a little bit.”

“Yikes.” You genuinely feel for him. Hotels and their germs freak you out as it is, you can’t fathom being expected to sleep in an establishment as fine as the one he’s describing.

“Make sure you check for bed bugs before you go to sleep.” It breaks your heart to think of him slumbering fitfully while tiny monsters feast away.

“You think I’m going anywhere near that bed?” He sounds offended, but you know better. “I’m sleeping in the fucking bathtub. I wish you were here, though.”

“So, you’d have me suffer through a night in hotel hell just so you’d have someone to keep you company? Narcissist.”

That halting laugh of his, the one you’re completely smitten with, makes an appearance, but his reply comes gently. “No. There’s just something about the thought of seeing something so beautiful surrounded by all this ugliness…I don’t know.”

That, you hadn’t expected.

He glosses over his honesty and begins telling you about the bar he’s playing. About how it used to be a speakeasy. How there are still scattered bullet holes in the walls from a raid. Al Capone once visited, he tells you animatedly, and broke a bartender's nose for speaking without respect…

On and on he prattles, and you let him, paying close attention to his every word. This isn’t your first time being ‘Jaked’ in the middle of the night.

And if you’re being honest, maybe your attentiveness has more to do with the fact that you miss him already. It’s good to hear his voice, that calming, soft rasp. His idiosyncratic tendencies - ‘you know’ as a place filler as he gathers his thoughts, interesting, suppose, it’s all so jake, and it makes you feel safe in the strangest way.

You ask questions in all the right places, not enough to interrupt, but just enough to encourage the stream of thoughts he has decided to share with you.

That is, until he catches on. “Are we whispering because it’s late, or because you’re at my brother’s?”

You pluck at the blanket thrown over you, chagrined. A child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “He was out of sorts with you gone, so I stayed. You know how he gets.”

“I get that way, too.” He points out softly. “Who babies me?”

You shrug, though he can’t see you “A girl in every port?”

“Would you stop with that?” He suddenly sounds sad, and it’s so unlike him you’re shocked into momentary silence.

It stretches on for a while, with you now staring at the wall as the tree outside lends the shadows of its leaves to dance and flutter in the night. And Jake, cooped up in some depressing, filthy room god knows where, breathing in stagnant air and mold spores.

He slices through it first, “Hey, poppins?”

“Hmm?” How easily can make your heart ache and pound without effort. They both can.

“Do you miss me?”

The hopefulness in his query makes you smile. He sounds almost…vulnerable?

“I do, Jake. I always miss you when you go away.”

A discreet hum of satisfaction is his only reply before the quiet returns. Then…

“Why are you at my brother’s, babe? Is this a ‘when the cats away the mice will play’ situation?”

Why is he always so calm and collected? Tipping his hand just enough to stoke the flames of your curiosity. And why is it so sexy?

“Are you the cat?” You ask softly, avoiding his actual question.

He sees your bet and raises the stakes “Are you two the mice?”

Still unwilling to hand over your secrets, you ask a question of your own. “What is this? You both really do get off on the competition of it all, don’t you? Is there a scorecard hidden away somewhere? Because I —“

“Hey,” he soothes, voice comforting like a warm, much loved quilt. “There’s no scorecard. We actually have a scoreboard. It lights up and everything. Cost a shit load.”

He successfully tugs a giggle out of you, plucking the thorn out of your side effortlessly. Seconds later, however, you’re right back where you started.

“Why, then? Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in sibling rivalry crossfire. Like I’m constantly ducking and dodging Kiszka bullets.”

“No such thing.” He’s trying his best to lighten things up. “We Kiszkas are noble and peaceful people.”

He desperately would like to be let off the hook… instead, you keep him dangling on the line. “I’m serious.”

At last, he gives in. “Alright, alright. The thing is, you can’t really blame us. Sometimes it’s unavoidable and that’s just science.”

“Science.” You repeat, unimpressed.

“Yes. Science. Identical twins, such as myself and my lesser half, share nearly indistinguishable brain wave patterns, and —“

“Jesus, do you two carry around some big book of twin factoids everywhere you go?”

Brushing your flippancy aside without comment, he continues on. “So, shared brain waves and 99.9% identical DNA means we view the world around us in much the same way. That’s why you hear those crazy stories about separated twins finding each other later only to discover they’ve been living parallel lives. Essentially, we’re the same person.”

“Is this where I come in?” You ask, trying hard to conceal the fascination hiding behind your nonchalance.

“Possibly.” In your mind's eye, you picture his fingers running over his lips in a gentle pinching motion. An endearing habit of his when he’s feeling contemplative. “But, sometimes I think it has very little to do with all of that. Sometimes I think it’s just you.”

“Me?’

“You’re the lighthouse, poppins…” his voice is soft and thoughtful. “And he and I are the ships. Question is, who will run ashore first?”

“Something happened between Josh and I tonight.” You confess. “And I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you. I just felt like you should know.”

“Doesn’t that make you think?” He questions, backing you into an invisible corner.

“Doesn’t what make me think?”

“The fact that you felt the need to tell me. It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

You’re not sure what to say to that, so you choose the easiest path and say nothing at all.

“Jealousy isn’t a character flaw I struggle with. Never has been.” You listen to the creaking groan of the likely cheap and worn chair he is repositioning himself in. “Territorial? I’ll own that, but almost never with Josh. So you have your fun, love. Get him out of your system. You and I both know which ship your light shines a little brighter for.”

He ends the call with little room for argument on your part. You consider calling him back to tell him he’s wrong (is he wrong?). Instead, you slip out of bed and pad down the hall towards Josh’s room, light and hushed on your feet.

~

Josh is dreaming of you. Lost in turquoise waters that lull him deeper and deeper, down down down. You’re everywhere. Your voice, echoing and purring with the delicate current. He is tangled in your silken hair. It glows in otherworldly shades of bioluminescent purple and he longs to touch it, but each lock dissolves into blinding glitter the moment he reaches for it. Closer to the floor of your sea he drifts, as your soft moans grow louder, accompanied by the alien mournful song of whales calling to one another, his unconscious world shifts…

Now you lie beneath him, twisted in wrinkled sheets, clinging to him as he rocks into you deeply. Your nails sting as they bite into and drag across his back and he hopes it burns forever. He likes it better here. Bathing in your ocean was bliss, but here he can touch your face. Here he can search your eyes for their secrets and taste your skin. He can hear the desire thrumming in your hummingbird heart. Here you are his.

He always thinks you’re beautiful, but like this, you are celestial. A supernova captured in his arms.

You call his name, but your eyes are cast over his shoulder. He knows without question who has come to dismantle his perfect world.

“Tell him to go.”

You shake your head languidly with a Mona Lisa smile, “I’d like him to stay.”

Squeezing around him just right, you run your fingertip down the bridge of his nose…

…and he startles awake with a curse.

~

His door isn’t closed, but merely pushed to…still, you lift a loose fist to knock lightly. A faint moan in the dark stops you.

It’s a tranquil sound, one you might expect to enjoy while caught up in slow and easy early morning sex. And while it isn’t overtly obscene, it steals the air from your lungs all the same.

He’s sleeping, your eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to know that, but he breathes another sigh into the air, and then…your name.

Can a sound be poetic? Can inflection be art? Because that is the only way to describe the way your name sounds on his tongue.

He’s dreaming…and whatever world he has faded into holds some version of you inside of it as well. What is going on inside that brilliant, beautiful mind of yours, Joshua?

This is wrong. You should go back to bed and pretend this never happened…but the angel on your shoulder has taken the night off, leaving the shameless devil in charge, plotting nefariously.

A harsh hiss of “Fuck!” bites out of him, startling you. He sounds frustrated and furious. He is awake, and very unhappy about it.

Standing still as a statue, you wonder ridiculously if he can hear the wild beat of your heart.

Knock now, you think. Pretend you’ve just arrived at his door. For the second time, you raise your hand to knock, and for the second time, you stop in your tracks when you see it.

His hand slips beneath the sheets as a shutter of pleasure ripples out of his chest. It’s no more than a strangled gasp, but your body explodes into heated pins and needles.

The drag of his fist against the linens keeps time with the airy moans he is panting into the night. It’s fucking intoxicating and you so badly want to go to him.

Instead, you back slowly away from the crack into the door, retreating further back in the hall. You’ll slink back to bed and it’ll be like this never even happened —

A floorboard creaks. An inanimate object groaning to tattle tale and shine a spotlight on your presence.

He stops instantly as you clamp your eyes shut tightly for a split second…if I can’t see you, you can’t see me mentality.

And while you pray with your whole soul to disappear like smoke in the air, he rises, tucks himself back into his sweats, and confidently closes the space between the two of you.

Before you can process, his fingers lace around your wrist and pull you into the room. Your body is pressed against the door, his breath warm on your neck as he reaches behind you to twist the lock.

A single finger traces along your cheek before tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Were you watching me?”

“I…” You stammer, guilty as sin. “I was just getting ready to knock and…”

His hand slides between your legs to tease his fingers over soaked cotton. “Oh,” he tilts his head, smug and pleased with his discovery. “Someone was enjoying the show. My sweet little thing has ruined her pretty panties.”

He finds your clit and presses against it, remaining still, taunting you with the delicious pressure of his touch. “Do you like to watch?”

You nod, the shame of being caught slowly seeping from your veins.

“Yeah?” He slips into your panties from the side and teases two fingers inside you, curling upward until your thighs are shaking. “You wanna watch me cum?”

A whine of desire trembles out of you, telling him all he needs to know.

His fucks his fingers into you just a hint faster. Building you up nice and easy, creating a heavenly push and pull that you never want to end. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’m far too in love with this soft little cunt of yours right now. Pink as cotton candy and just as sweet.”

Your hands are fisted into the shoulders of his worn out t shirt, steadying yourself as your hips rock to meet him.

“Jake called.” The words leave you as barely a whisper.

“Did he?” There is a conversational edge to his cadence. As though you might be discussing the weather while you clench and drip into the palm of his hand. “Missing you already?”

“I don’t know, he— oh, fuck…right there.”

“Right there?” You catch a glimpse of the cocky smirk playing over his lips in the dark. “I'll touch you right there, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you. Just relax and let me.”

Your back arches away from the door to bring your body nearer to his. You want him pressed against you, skin to skin. You want to melt into him and live there forever, surrounded by his warm light.

“You look so fucking pretty in this light.” The moon is filtering in through the window, cool and blue. You think of winter, and he mirrors your thoughts. “Like a snow angel.”

Your hand delves beneath his waistband of his tattered sweats. A chill races up his spine when you wrap your soft hand around him. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want…good girl.”

You coil and quiver around his fingers, giving yourself away.

“You like that?” He nips his perfect teeth into your bottom lip. “You want to be my good girl? A perfect princess to make my cock hard and my heart ache?’

Tightening your grip, you stroke him faster, earning a groan, long and low, deep within his chest as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge with just his hand.

“Josh, please,” the air feels charged, the way it does just before a vicious summer storm unleashes. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he rocks into your hand a little faster to catch up with you. ‘Not until I have what’s mine. Let go for me. Show me how beautiful you look when you cum.”

With another practiced twist of his hand, he drags you under, free hand covering your mouth to quiet your cries, though he wishes he could let you scream until you were hoarse and spent.

He chases after you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own cries as he spills over your hand, tiny rivers of warmth that tickle your skin until your eyes flutter closed to savor the feeling.

It’s peaceful for a stretch, but when the words come, you don’t swallow them down like maybe you should. You speak them into existence like maybe you shouldn’t.

“He says you’re in love with me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek, light as the softest feather. “I am.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @paleshadow-ofadragon @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

[ctheathy]

hey! Could I request a Reader x secret history tails who fall asleep alot they could be sitting on the bench in a park and reader just falls asleep or at his work table and tails just hears a tiny bang on the table and he turns around and readers just asleep with drool on the table😭

Secret History Tails w/ sleepy!Darling

Secret History Tails x Reader

Fluff Headcanons

Short Concept

Author’s note : Hello, Nonnie//Anon!! Of course you may, thankies for requesting =} Once again, my apologies in case it’s somewhat shorter than the average post. I’m just kind of lacking creativity on what to say, but I tried making it as long as possible. Hope you enjoy💞🌷

SH Tails from TSAA was chosen again aswell, as I do believe people have gotten mostly attached to the more recent behaviour of his.

The two of you are already implied to be in a relationship to begin with <3

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Insomnia mention • Pills offering

You already have to go through quite the draining sh1t by just dating this absolute menace of society. It’s always something new, hopping from one dimension to another, travelling through the multiverse itself, needing to blend in in some other universe’s reality; It’s ... Quite much for one single creature to handle to say the least, if not even too much. If anything, I can totally see the two tailed fox himself being rather restless when needing to go to bed for the night, and sometimes even failing to do so at all due to the paranoia getting to him. Because of this, your little habits of tiredness didn’t really surprise the mobian much, but this absolutely did not stop the fox from mentally freaking out over both your actual health and much less the idea of him being the cause behind all of it.

When the two of you are in a committed relationship, he becomes a fairly overprotective and worried lover over you and your wellbeing. He’s constantly checking up on you, questioning whenever you’re taking good care of yourself and making very well sure you keep up with your basic common needs for a healthy lifestyle. So when the thoughts drop in about him being the main cause behind your worn out presence, he is kind of an emotional wreck. He is literally close to ripping the fur from his Tails in a moment of unrestrained anxiety. It’s only when you gently hold his hands after preventing them from hurting himself in the pressure and quickly let him know that you just feel somewhat sleepy on a regular basis and just cannot help it at times that the tension has lessened slightly. He’s still worried about you feeling as tired as you do, however, the question whenever you’ve slept well the night beforehand always wiggling its way into the conversation or if it would perhaps be a better idea if you’d go right back to bed for the day instead.

He’d likely offer you pills for the night in his worry, confusing your state with something serious and damaging to you. You’re his precious beloved, he genuinely cares for your health and wants you to be okay on a daily basis, not just let it be ruined due to some poor sleeping habits. Though if you tell him you’re just fine laying on that--that hard and dirty table, he insists you use his tails as your own personal pillows, he can work just fine without them-!! If anything, the whole working thing may as well go to complete waste when it’s about you. He’ll pick you over his inventing each and every single time, just cancelling his plans for the day in order to sit down with your head in his lap, almost wrapping himself around your form completely and stroking your locks with love and care. Don’t even make me mention anybody who came by uninvited along those personal moments; he’s literally glaring daggers at them and sometimes even flipping them off outside of their view, the thought of them waking you up lingering in the back of his mind.

I can definitely picture him putting his work to the side to take daily naps with you aswell. He has quite the bad sleeping schedule for his own case, yet those have usually just fallen on dear ears. To himself, atleast. Please drag this little hypocrite to bed along with you. He’s one to literally force you to bed when the sleeping habits are shown enough of times, and although he’d refuse at first hand, I believe with a little bit of pushing you’d easily get him to lay right next to you. It’s not like the decision was that regrettable for his own self after a little while, anyways. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself in the spooning position, and the look of utter peace on his expressions honestly made it even a hundred times much more endearing than beforehand.

After a little while he calms down and starts to try accepting this demeanour as nothing more than normality. He tries letting out nothing more than a singular chuckle when he notices that you have fallen asleep in your chair once again. He does however, still tend to show concerns for your neck and any seeming uncomfortable positions in the process, but those again would easily be minimised by the softness of his tails laying right underneath you. And if anything, he’s honestly started to grow rather comforted by your sleepy nature, it giving him a sense of trust between the relationship and it seemingly having quite the positive effect on his own improved slumber rythm aswell; may that be through his calmed mindset when hugging you close when laying in his lap, or you simply just dragging him to bed right with you. Perhaps it’s not even all that bad to begin with after all,

Cause atleast now he has the capability of holding that lovely and soothing sleeping form of yours into his own arms

[lonesome-witching]

The World Can Know

I have gotten the request to write a celebrity AU by @rabbitofdeath-atcastleaarrggh based on this post by @autismbarbie (I think). And I have to say I absolutely loved that post so much that I was a little excited to write this.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

It had all started with a drunken tweet. She shouldn’t have been drunk. It was only 2 pm and she was supposed to be working. But she had finished the last song for her album, and somebody had pulled out a bottle of champagne and now she was sipping lukewarm beers in the recording booth and scrolling through twitter.

It was then that Robin Buckley saw a picture of Nancy Wheeler. It wasn’t that she had never seen her before, she had seen Nancy everywhere. A couple of days ago, she and Steve had gone to see one of her movies. And Robin had returned the next day to watch it again. So, she knew of Nancy Wheeler. She had seen her all dolled up in movies and on red carpets. She had spent an embarrassing long time staring at her in that flowy top with her dark red lips at the Paris fashion week just a few nights ago.

The only difference was that all of those times Robin hadn’t been drunk, and therefore had been able to refrain herself from making her tiny obsession public knowledge. But this time as she noticed the picture of Nancy Wheeler in a simple blue shirt, purple cap and sunglasses walking in New York, the same streets Robin walked every single day, she was drunk.

Her fingers were typing out the words before her mind had registered them. Her thumb only hesitated a second before posting the tweet.

Literally dont FUCKIGN talk to me if u r not Nancy wheeler btw!!! dont even say hi i’ll be pissed

She regretted that tweet that same night when a text from Steve told her to check twitter. The memory of her own embarrassment came flooding back and the only reason she opened her account was with the pure intention of deleting the entire thing. That was her intention until she noticed the notification. It was a simple reply, just a simple hi with a smiley face behind it. The main reason Robin nearly went into cardiac arrest was that it was from Nancy freaking Wheeler. 

-

Talking with Nancy had been surprisingly easy. They had hung out a few times, going for walks after dark and eating take out in Nancy’s luxurious apartment. Robin had even invited Nancy to the recording studio after a mix up with the vocals forced her to drop everything. They often talked until the early morning hours, laughing and crying like kids at their first sleepover.

Now that Robin was able to see Nancy in real life it became obvious that the pictures and movies didn’t do her justice. That she looked best when she woke up with her hair all messed up and her eyes only half open.

It also became obvious that Robin was falling in love with her. Robin had difficulty not staring or stuttering when they hung out. She would always trip over her words whenever she tried to give Nancy a genuine compliment. And when Nancy returned the favor her cheeks would heat up and turn bright red. The words ‘I’m in love with Nancy Wheeler’ might as well have been tattooed on her forehead.

As the months crawled forward Robin and Nancy hung out more and more. Even when Nancy had to go to LA for some promotion material for her newest premiere, they called every night. Robin would listen attentively to Nancy chattering about her day as she stayed up way too late talking the other girl to sleep.

It almost felt like they were dating. Almost.

Robin tried her best not to dream about that possibility. After all, she had already gotten way too lucky to have her idol in her life.

Robin checked her phone for the thousandth time, waiting for a reply from Nancy. But as her screen lit up, she saw nothing but her lock screen. It had been a mere 9 hours since she last received a text from Nancy. She could survive 9 hours without Nancy. She had to.

Robin checked her phone again when the doorbell rang out, echoing through her too empty apartment. She dropped the phone on the couch and got up, shuffling to the door. On the other side stood Nancy Wheeler, her hair wet and dripping raindrops on the floor.

“It’s raining,” she stated as her eyes stared into Robin’s face.

“Nance? What are you doing here? Come in, come here.” Robin pulled her in, nearly hugging her. “I’m going to get you a towel… And— and some dry clothes. You should shower. I thought you were in LA.”

“I just got back. I— Robin, I need to speak with you.”

Robin stopped running around, a pink towel in her hand that nearly dropped to the floor as she saw the expression on Nancy’s face. “Okay.”

“I—” Nancy frowned. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe at the beginning,” Robin offered.

“I don’t know if there is a beginning. And I’m hoping this isn’t the end. I just feel like there is middle. Everything has been the middle. I can’t start at the beginning because there isn’t one. There is just you.”

“Me?”

Nancy nodded, taking a deep breath. “There is just you. And then there is me. And I’m hoping you and me could be an us.” Nancy’s teeth were digging into her bottom lip and Robin worried she’d draw blood.

“What are you—” Realization dawned on her. Nancy’s doe eyes and nervous expressions might have not been enough, but her words were clear. “Oh.”

Nancy nodded again, barely. “Do you think—”

“Yes. I like that. I’d really like to be an us.”

Nancy’s lips turned into a bright smile as she closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together.

-

“I wrote you a song,” Robin said about two weeks after their first kiss.

They were laying in Nancy’s bed, cuddling and kissing. It had been heavenly to be cooped up in Nancy’s flat the entire day. It had been marvelous to sink into her mattress and feel her lips all over her body. And now Robin was enjoying the warmth of her girlfriend.

“You wrote me a song?” Nancy asked with a soft voice.

“I did.”

“That is so sweet.” Robin could hear the smile in Nancy’s voice.

“I was hoping you would be in the video.”

“I would love to be in the video.”

-

They had agreed to keep their relationship to themselves until the video came out. Which Robin knew, logically speaking, wasn’t very long. It was supposed to be released in less than a month time so it would align with Nancy’s premiere.

But Robin was ecstatic about her new situation, and she had lasted about 3 days after they had agreed. It had at first been a slip of the thumb. She had taken this adorable picture of Nancy and couldn’t not post it. Maybe she could have used a more ambiguous caption than ‘gf reveal’ but she had slipped up. It was Nancy’s fault for being so cute.

It was only when no one believed her that she kept going, that she kept tweeting about Nancy and her dating. Not that it helped.

“They still don’t believe me. It’s insane.”

Nancy laughed softly. “At least I know it’s true.,” she said as she pulled the phone out of Robin’s hands and crawled onto her lap.

-

The premiere of Nancy’s movie was scheduled for Friday. The music video was going to drop Thursday. Robin smiled as she thought about it. But tonight, on this beautiful Monday evening, Nancy was curled up into her side as they watched the Late Night Show together. Nancy was on this episode and when she was announced Robin cheered at the screen, much to her girlfriend’s amusement. 

“So, we have to ask, is there anyone special you are taking to the premiere on Friday?”

“Well, actually, there is,” screen Nancy answered, and Robin’s eyes widened. “I’ll be taking my girlfriend, Robin Buckley.”

Nancy’s arms tightened around Robin’s waist. “So, I may have told the world.”

“Yeah,” Robin replied, nodding at the screen, not even registering the reaction from the audience.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Nancy looked up with those soft doe eyes.

“Mad? Why would I be mad? I’m delighted. I’ve been talking about it for ages now. All I wanted was you and for the whole world to know.” She lowered her face to press a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips.

[koiturine]

confession | night.

tws: anxiety, heavy drinking, implied discrimination

it's late. it's been late, and we really should've gone back to the hotel room hours ago.

but i drink. i drink and i drink and i drink. every snide remark gets kicked back with the sting of cobra venom, but it takes more than a little liquid courage to make absolutely sure it doesn't get to me.

"he's my boyfriend, koi." did he really not tell anyone before he brought me to this company party?

"my 'arm candy' has a name, you know." thank you so much for introducing me, avie... does that guy think i'm your male hooker or something?

"do you seriously think i can't date someone without an ulterior motive?" did you used to date people with an ulterior motive?!

i sipped through every comment, and pregamed every future comment. and... well, i basically drank my way through the whole party. but aventurine isn't the only one with a good poker face. i might not have the best tolerance, but i can hold myself together when i'm wasted.

"my precious little jackpot. you're not having a bad time tonight, are you?" i feel the blood rush to my cheeks when he whispers in my ear... and the tiny bit of upset behind his teeth. "yeah! i mean... i'm good. it's fun meeting all your co-workers." all of the liquid courage pours out of my body in a deluge of sweat. oh my god i'm so humiliated i wanna go for another drink.

aventurine knows. he has to, or he wouldn't grip my hip so tightly. "i like my free booze." i blurt out the statement while i try to look him in the eyes.

"you like your free booze when you're dancing. you think you need your free booze when you're scared." i can't make direct eye contact with him for long. it took a lot of learning on his part to realize i can't make direct eye contact with anyone. but it's obvious when i'm avoiding it on purpose.

i'm not as smooth as he is. i can't go with the flow and pull him into a dance or ask him 'why would i be lonely? you've been with me the whole time.' it's not just loneliness. it's knowing i'm supposed to have fun, but not being able to let go without it.

it's insecurity that i'm not good enough.

i... need another drink. "one sec..." aventurine holds me closer before i get a chance to skedaddle. "c'mon, avie. i gotta pee."

"you can pee in the room." this blond thing wrapped around me starts kissing me over and over again, chuckling and hiding the simmering ire as we walk out. he doesn't even hold my hand as we walk to the elevator. of course, aventurine keeps his smile. but the dead silence says everything.

he's quiet when he's walking with me.

he's simmering in silence when he's walking ahead, not even holding my hand. at least... that's how it feels.

the elevator carries the same thick air, the booze at least easing my anxiety and fear. i know i'm in trouble, but i can only freak out so much in a stupor.

it doesn't even take a second when he closes the door to our suite behind me. "what the hell is going on?"

i was lying. the sting of his disappointment puts a lump in my throat. this is the end, isn't it?

"nothing... i... don't wanna talk about it."

aventurine sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose. he's obviously mad. but if i say something he's probably gonna think i'm stupid. i try to maintain a poker face. i can't let him see that i'm scared. i can't make him think he hurt me. why the fuck am i even hurt by such a stupid question!?

"...i..." aventurine blinks up at me, surprised that i'm even trying to loop back around. "i don't... want you to think i'm boring. or embarrass you, or if i'm really worth bringing to a rich corporate party, or--"

i was so lost in my spiral i didn't realize he was pulling me into a hug. the warmth and softness, the smell of his cologne at least... helps. "you aren't the only person the ipc judged from just their looks."

...right. his avgin eyes.

"the only way you could've ruined it is if you didn't show up at all." i think i feel aventurine's hands tremble a bit. the question leaves my mouth before i get the chance to mull it over.

"so did you bring me because you didn't wanna feel alone?"

he chuckles at that, rubbing my back as his soft voice reassures me every step of the way. "of course i did."

[spiderh0rse]

shephard's mind notes part 4, e16-20

e16

fish heads, fish heads, roly-poly fish heads~

thinks the Spore Launcher is an alien from Alien

guilted into picking it up anyways. Baby talks it

"This is my weird squid slime spitting alien gun thing. There are many like it. But this one is mine."

essentially starts treating it like a pet that doubles as heavy weaponry.

sees a floating light and thinks it's Tinkerbell. Will o' the wisps would have him MADE

cannot enter the lab without a labcoat. He tries. Doesn't work.

the hologram is basically an answering machine, huh. Adrian fiddles with it and plays around

doesn't want to call the Barnacles Barnacles

pronounces "parasitic" with a long first "i"

knows a mild amount about barnacles

wants a grappling hook.

Realizes he needs the barnacle. Unenthused.

chastises the barnacle for being a messy eater

picks up on it not liking dead things. Calls it picky.

could be batman! or spiderman! not Indiana Jones though.

thinks if a barnacle ate another barnacle it'd make a black hole. Wants to try that some time.

Slur count: six.

Thinks he's going to get a SECOND Sparky. But no it attacks him.

Is processing alien blood as equivalent to human blood.

names the Spore Launcher Gill!

freaks the fuck out at the Tentacle. May be about as panicked as he ever gets

thinks all this bullshit must be karma for a past life.

"it is really hard to aim with an alien mouth."

seems to enjoy riding the barnacle's path

poorly convinces himself that some dying guy will be fine without him

thinks he can get some tunes off a radio. Gets orders instead

cramped vent :( gets stuck. Calls time-out. He's in a compromising position right now

e17

manuevering his way out of the vent. Falls!

gets NASTY shit all over him and maybe in his mouth

Colleague.

threatens gman. Apparently knew him from some base inspection back at base

thinks Gman may have been a spy for the aliens

DND nerd >:)

concludes gman is just messing with him. Says this fondly

knows almost all these dead HECU by name and is Bothered.

freaks out a bit about the Pit Worm

wishes he'd been deployed to Afghanistan. Blames Obama for his being here

he HATES BUGS.

"nobody likes centipedes" wrong. I do

misses human on human violence

guessing idle at aliens hating technology or doors or both. Compares them to Amish people

baseball,,,

he HATES steam!

the laser doesn't hurt as much as he expected it to

hates the Pit Worm noises. Yells at it to go back to Dune

"okay running now running now lasers are bad and so are giant centipedes"

upset that he's the only one alive. doesnt want to do things alone and having every companion he takes die looks bad

familiar with Star Wars

can't think of last words before he gets crushed into a tiny cube

"the only way this could possibly be worse is if youtube cut off the end of my sentence." not cut off!

e18

pretty sure this (bug) is the worst thing thats ever happened

HATES slightly overcooked pancakes. recounts an event that has clearly happened to him multiple times

gets his leg caught in the metal grate

gets so mad he breaks it

"that water looks deep enough to break my fall" it's opaque. Shephard it's opaque

touched some mushy thing at the bottom of the water,,,

always wanted to kick through glass

seems to be having a completely shitty time staying afloat

"you know what? I really don't want to be here!" He says this so GENUINELY wow

calls some corpses slackers

complains that the laser hurts

lampshades how much ammo he's able to carry. More than should be feasible for any one human being!

anticipates being paid millions by the military for killing the Pit Worm

thinks the Worm would be cooler as a cricket

screams that he should've been a tradesperson

"uncomplicated shit made complicated"

calls himself a "good little marine" it's kinda cute of him

witnesses the Worm's remains. "That's the power of Oxy-Clean!"

only wearing the gas mask because of the night vision goggles

feeling kinda down :( trying out the stolen antidepressants

four capsule type of day

struggles with the safety cap

his mouth is so dry :(

correctly assumes scientists are sneaking in their narcotics

oh yeah yeah should mention he's read the label on the plastic bag holding the pills. inside of the plastic bottle. It's Gordon's oxycodone! And Adrian just took four!

he's on a ten minute time limit until it kicks in now! Go go go!

could use more practice with his mp5

irritated by the Gene Worm's lights

proclaims this ladder is the best one he's ever climbed. wants to stay here climbing it forever. wants to hug the person who built this ladder

e19

think the ladder is asking him to take his clothes off

confirms the black ops are after him

hes never been so quickly plagsrized in his life

enough of this childish nonsense! Pokemon reference!

does a very bad bugs bunny impression

familiar with medical shows

thinks the electrified corpses smell like hot dogs

shot twice by a .50 cal...

WILHELM SCREAM

starts talking to other inanimate objects for a moment

"I'm everywhere."

he's fighting a bunch of Californians! Not too bad

pissy about some private giving orders "can I be in charge for a little bit?"

SNIPER RIFLE POG

oh the oxy is kicking in

sings about walking on a box

super giggly right now

has lost the bullet button just keeps launching grenades

his arms are SHAKY now

talks about getting his dead pals a funeral. He won't cry he'll get. A cat

fullnames himself!

he needs a map. One that's easy to read. Wonders if they sell that

"hey, you're an ass... dick"

can't find his grenades!

NEW COOLER LADDER

falls off. Laughs it off

e20

humming some song! doesn't know what he's doing right now

got up too fast :(

starts talking to some corpse. sticks his hand inside the bones.

took a remote detonater out of the corpse. Laughs at it having eaten a button

presses the button explosions happen and he is Worried wants to undo

he is faster than a FIRE TRUCK

he's NOT a police-fire-doctor

accidentally teleports to Xen.

likes xens colours!

tips over and falls into the healing water.

wakes up clear-headed! freaks out at a TENTACLE MONSTER in front of him and shoots it

promptly reprimands himself for that. It was just drinking.

Adrian remembers basically nothing from when he was high

the sights on his rifle are BLURRY

went spelunking at 13. Except it wasn't a cave it's the spot under the bridge gangs hang out

theorizes the pit drone stingers are like bee stingers

thinks opening a door will release hundreds of tons of water. tries to open it

he is Missing his teleporter gun. Interrogates his pets about it. They claim innocence

"oh, sweet black forest fuck-cakes!"

does not want to go through the dark and dirty tunnel

he is just listing actors right now

this is his LEAST favorite tunnel in black mesa

[noxtms]

MUGGLE METEOROLOGISTS MIGHT HAVE PREDICTED A LATE NIGHT DROP IN TEMPERATURE ACROSS THE COUNTRY, but nothing could have prepared the tiny population of carsington for the hopeless chill that descended on them in the earliest hours of the morning. most were, in a sense, lucky ; the ones who turned in a few hours before would shiver in their beds and find their dreams take a more sinister turn, but if they did manage to shake themselves awake, it wouldn't take long for sleep to reclaim them. it was the muggles awake past what was considered reasonable who would be most affected by what they couldn't see. it was these who would pull their dressing gowns closer when their breath came out in little clouds / who would take the chance to peek outside their curtains and watch the fog rolling in, see the unexpected frost that formed on the grass in their well tended gardens / who would find themselves preoccupied by thoughts of devastation that had no place in the comfort and the safety of their homes. in the morning, it would be an easily forgotten, freak weather incident that brought with it a village wide depression. for now… 

well, the dementors paid them all very little mind. they were only present to provide a cover to the masked and heavily robed figures that apparated into the town square, one by one - an added security measure, nothing more and nothing else, stationed along the path that these chosen death eaters took through the sleepy village. they did not turn their heads to watch them, as they went, but their presence led them all the way to the abandoned, stately home where their burning rings had told them they were to meet. 

floorboards creak underfoot as they make their way to the highest floor and a dreary attic space that was draped with dusty velvets and lit by dozens of taper candles, complete with the antique table and elegant backed chairs that they have come to know so well over their years of service. the location might have changed from meeting to meeting, over the years, but it is a familiar scene, save for the unexpected reappearance of an unmasked figure who stands loftily behind her throne, white knuckle gripping the back of it. her right hand man, rodolphus, returned to his place seated at her side. 

it's been two years since bellatrix deigned to appear at these meetings in person, but in all of that time, her presence has been felt as a suffocating weight, regardless. rodolphus has been her most trusted set of eyes and ears through it all, an ever willing mouthpiece putting voice to every thought and every instruction she's ever issued : a priest through which the lord's will is spoken. this arrangement has always been enough, until now. 

"it seems that in my absence," long documented, never discussed. her voice is clear as a bell, "some among you have dared to exaggerate your own importance."

nine individuals, their faces hidden from one another by the silver masks that mark them death eaters - not just any, but inner - exchange nervous glances from where they sit around the table. bellatrix's stormy gaze levels with the tenth, the one stood opposite her, face likewise hidden. her lip curls.

"sit," she tells him, a warning shot.

the room holds its breath, though the problem, perhaps, is that he doesn't.

"i am not a dog for you to call to heel, bellatrix," he replies, all silk.

and then, before their lady can say another word, antonin karkaroff commits the most cardinal of sins ; raising his hand to his face and pulling from it the mask that hid his features from view. he stands taller without it. shoulders back. chin held high. he is unafraid. his companions, the seated inner circle handpicked for their years of devoted service and unwavering loyalty, look down.

"if you were, we'd have already taken you out back," rodolphus murmurs dangerously from where he lounges, the pallid hand that his wife puts on his shoulder in that moment stopping him from saying any more. "you forget yourself, antonin," one of the mystery figures whispers like a prayer, a truth that goes ignored.

"my wolves were not for you to command," straight to the meat of it, she goes, her gaze unwavering. "and neither are my soldiers. you do not tell my death eaters where to go, what to do, when to die-"

"fenrir greyback was a rabid beast," he interjects, matter of fact. it isn't hearsay. they all knew it. "a loose cannon. untameable. he is no loss-"

"you had no right! you-" she snaps, but he doesn't stop there.

"i had every right. if i forget myself, then so do you. for two years, you have left rodolphus to oversee a crumbling regime while i, the minister of magic, have done more for introducing our best interests to the community and exerting control than you have since you took over. all you've done is chase meaningless relics and put your trust in a children's fairytale-"

"you insolent cunt-" rodolphus spits. he might've said more - might've risen from his chair, even - if bellatrix had not kept tight hold upon his shoulder while antonin charged ahead. 

"after the dark lord fell, you promised us power and yet, i am the one who's gotten the closest to delivering it. i'm a hero. i have the wizengamot eating out of the palm of my hand, and all i had to do was banish a few dementors with the flick of my wrist and serve them greyback's head on a platter. neither of which were difficult."

bellatrix, to her credit, remains a stoic. rodolphus' rage is an obvious thing. barely contained. he holds the edge of the table for good measure, but a muscle twitches in his jaw, fire reflected in his eyes. even the masked circle, a rapt audience, fidget in their chairs. they shift their weight uneasily and look between them both from beneath their eyelashes, unable to tear their gaze away. she, in sharp contrast, is unreadable. one hand remains visible, where it lays. the other - hidden by the back of her chair - wraps tightly around her wand.

the tense silence that follows his words stretches for so long that it becomes downright uncomfortable. and then, with an admirable simplicity, antonin speaks his truth into the world - long felt, never discussed. "you're done, bellatrix. we have no need of you, anymore."

she lifts her chin - an almost imperceptible movement, an almost betrayal of the raging storm inside. she works her jaw for one, long moment, and her voice is ice when she replies, holding tight to the illusion of her power, here : "with all due respect, you do nothing without my say." 

antonin, unmoved, continues to speak plain : "since when?" 

if it were not for rodolphus and one of the figures sat at antonin's side moving in the same instant that she did, antonin karkaroff's coup would have ended there with her fingernails at his throat. bellatrix, her expression finally splintering into an unfathomable rage, is little more than a blur when she lunges, her wand forgotten. her husband has to be faster and is hard pressed to pull her back, forced to wrap his entire arm around her waist to tear her from her path. the other figure, hidden behind their mask, is ultimately unneeded in a protective capacity but stands in front of antonin anyway… though he is unaffected by her outburst. the others, most of who jumped / pushed their chairs back / even went so far as to stand, also, and move a few steps away, are unsure what to do. 

the most surprising thing, of course, wasn't the explosion of her anger. it wasn't the need for intervention or the way that the feral fight goes out of her body the moment that both of her feet are put back on the ground. it's not that she gives up without her taste of blood, though when antonin's lips quirk upwards in a quietly satisfied smirk, she would be forgiven for going for seconds.

it's just how the ragged silence that falls over the room is broken, as bellatrix begins to laugh.

"you'll see," she says around a chuckle, dark eyes manic, "oh, you'll all see." 

it's how she keeps laughing until it leaves her system, encircled by her husbands arms. 

it's how her sobered declaration of, "and it'll be much too late, when you do," hangs in the air around them.

and it's, how despite everything, when rodolphus leads her towards the door - a stalwart protector recognising when best to fight and when better to live to fight another day - and a masked figure steps protectively in front of antonin again, she manages a smile for him. their protection is unneeded. she leans in as she passes by, teeth bared, voice low, but her words are for him alone.

"don't get too comfortable. minister." 

[primewritessmut]

24 - REIGN

“You’re late.” I ignore my boss as I squeeze around him and into the break room, yanking open a locker to shove my jacket and backpack inside. “The bar is slammed and you’re fucking late.”

I could tell him that I had the strangest dream last night. That I woke up with the electric copper taste of pennies on my tongue. That I had to dig to the back of my closet for a long sleeve shirt that fit dress code and glove to match.

I could tell him that I don’t remember why I need to dress that way or how I got here, that something feels off, wrong, but things always feel off. Like I’m a little more left of center than the rest of the world, spread thin and slid between the cracks of space and time.

But that sounds maudlin and off-putting.

And also, I know he doesn’t give a shit.

He just wants me to do my terrible, minimum wage job so the nepo babies in their thirty thousand dollar watches don’t have to suffer through a lukewarm drink.

I slink past him toward where the five-gallon bucket is tucked into the corner next to the ice machine. It clatters as I approach it, fresh ice dropping into the bottom compartment. The promise of tediousness and monotony pulls at me. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember my dream. I don’t want to taste the rich, bright flavor on my tongue.

“Don’t fucking ignore me,” he barks, his big hand clamping onto my upper arm like a vice and yanking me back from the handle of the bucket. “Just because we gave some freak a pity job doesn’t mean you don’t have to work like the rest of us.”

His thick sausage fingers dig painfully into the meat of my bicep and I just wish he would stop fucking touching me.

Every humming fluorescent light in the break room pops at once, plunging the space into pitch black nothingness.

I blink in the sudden darkness and realize that I can see.

He’s pinned against the wall, toes scraping the floor and eyes bulging at the pressure the thing around his neck. Long fingers. Mottled black skin fitted tight to bone. Talons like a bird of prey dimpling the skin of his neck.

I blink and he whimpers.

The shadows rise, coiling and curling around us, wrapping up my arms and prying at his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Trying to find a place to grab hold. Enough leverage to pull him apart.

I blink and lean forward.

He flinches but he can’t pull himself far enough away to avoid the words that hiss into his ear for every corner of the room.

“Look at you.” The words are somehow sibilant even without a single S. “A tiny little man, reigning over a useless little kingdom, just to feel something. I can make you feel something.”

I blink and his mouth opens wide.

Then wider and wider, the shadows hooking eager tendrils over his bottom teeth and pulling down, down, down until the edges of his mouth start to tear, turning his trembling, begging lips into something huge and leering.

I blink and a scream gurgles in the back of his throat.

The talons piercing the dimpling flesh as his tongue lolls out of his mouth at an angle, unused to all the extra space, his thick, sausage fingers scrabbling at the desiccated flesh of the arm attached to those claws.

I blink and bolt upright in bed.

My mouth is still filled with a coating of metal and salt, sticking to my teeth and my tongue and my memory. I flop back onto my too-flat pillow and scrub my hands down my face ignoring the way that one of them scrapes roughly across my jaw.

I haven’t called my psychiatrist for an emergency session in four years but I roll to my side and start patting the bedside table for my phone anyway.

23 - WARD || 25 - VESSEL

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Don't Come to Me Pt. 5.

Oh hello there. This was a freaking rollercoaster for me. I struggled with motivation for the last 2 months, so please be kind to me, i literally sweat tears and blood with this (can you see me over exaggerate?). It's smut, and im not the best in that, i would like to have some feedback if it's good or not. Thanks guys for baring with me.

Billy Russo X F!Reader, mentions of Frank Castle X F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected PinV, cream+pie, Billy being full of himself as always, kinda obsessed with the thought of beating Frank

Summary: After an unsuccessful attempt of killing his best friend, Billy comes home to you waiting for him in his house , his clothes, drinking his beer. And he believes that is a bigger win than he can ever achieve against Frank.

Taglist: @gwynethhberdara @icarus-isflying @intothesoul @malfoyeyess

(let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist)

Part 4 Part 6

It was fucking obvious by that time that Frank won't take up that deal. He won't just grab his new name, his hopes and reams, if he has any outside of bloodlust, and walk into Billy's trap. Billy knows now it was a longshot, but Frank's face told him another story. He saw that tiny little sparkling light that he might do just what Billy told him he should do.

His mind was racing as he left the docks, the last few long hours now felt like a dream, a small piece of his memory, while in reality it was the most torturing hours in his whole life.

He and his crew picked out just for this, for killing his brother, waited and waited patiently until there was no denying it anymore. Frank choose to stay, and he was relieved, then angry then numb. He wished Frank just showed up so he could end it, and have his normal life back, but the fucking guilt ate him away when he let his mind wonder long enough. Wonder to you. How devastated you'll be when Frank disappears from your life. But he'll be there for you, picking up the pieces and erase Frank Castle from your memory. He'll be just a sad blurry face in your mind, Billy will make sure he is filling every empty slots in your memory, not leaving space for anybody else.

He can taste success on his tongue when he finds you on his couch, in his t-shirt looking bored out of life until your eyes lit up with fire when you realize he's there.

"Darling why are you up? It's past two, told you not to wait for me." Yeah he told you, but he's over the moon that you in fact stayed up. The past week he mainly saw you sleepy, in a hurry to get in work in time, or for in stolen moments in your lunch break. Not how he imagined to win you over, but life just kept interfering, putting obstacles between you to make it harder for him.

Oh but goddamn you look out of this world as you bounce of the couch crashing your body into his, snaking hands up to his neck to pull him down for a kiss. You taste like beer, bitter but refreshing. When you let go, he can see the empty bottle on the coffee table.

"I see you had fun time without me." He teases, pulling you closer by your hips, the shirt on you wrinkling up revealing the bottom of your ass. He wants to do so many things right now, your skin burning through the fabric where his palm pressed against you.

"Nah, just passed the time. Thought i just wait for you and have some of that date you promised me." Uh, burn. He did promised you a date, but of course work got in the way. Again. You aren't bitter or angry with him, a bright smile reaching your eyes, but he knows you were excited about the night. He must look like a sad puppy because your voice softens.

"I arrived late too, so don't worry about it. Life's been busy." He can't help but wonder, were you busy with Frank? Or did he stayed away like he said he would? You are here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes, drinking his beer so that's a good sign. He wants to ask, to pry, to interrogate you about everything you and Frank talked or did. He's dying to know every detail.

"Earth to William! Hello!" You wave you hand in front his face, that makes Billy refocus on your lovesick expression, eyes searching for his, fingerstips caressing the nape of his neck.

"You are so fucking beautiful." He breaths before crushing his lips to yours.

*

Frank said the same thing a couple nights ago. The same thing but inherently differently. Billy's words have needs and wants. Every letter is coated with something primal. It's shaking your insides, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

Frank's words were soft, unintended. He took you off guard, in the middle of talking about your stupid day, stupid life, stupid nothings. In that moment you forgot what's happening and happened to him. He made you smile ear to ear, thanking him as your finger brushed your hair out of your face.

You don't wan to compare them, it's not fair, not right on so many levels. But you can't help it.

Life just dropped two handsome and difficult men into you lap at the same time to deal with, and you don't have a clue how you'll gonna do it.

"Earth to Y/N!" Billy tilts his head, searching your face for any sign of you being present, slightly mocking you with his choice of words. You collect yourself, mind slipping back to here and now, feeling his hands on your waist massaging and circling your clothed skin.

"Kiss me again." You demand softly with closed eyes. Need. You feel the matching energy, the same yearning you feel and see on Billy. "Please kiss me."

Nothing happens, you can feel his hot breath on your face, his body stays still and it scares you. Maybe you said something wrong? Did something wrong?

You open your eyes a little, seeing him stunned from your words. His eyes moves from your eyes to your lips, his mouth slightly parted, chest rising and falling heavily. Gosh he's beautiful.

"Billy?"

"Say it again." He croaks. His dreamy expression twists into something animalistic.

"Kiss me." You repeat, now self conscious hearing yourself clearer. You blush like crazy, and you'd like to run and hide, but his hands are firm on you, and his face is priceless. Like you confessed your undying love for him. You might did with these simpler words."Have me."

It just slips, and now you can't stop. You start playing with the hem of his coat, pushing it painfully slow over his shoulders. "Make me feel good."

He does just that. Your feet leaves the ground, Billy scooping you up by grabbing your ass, forcing you to hang your legs around his hips. The air is thick as he tries to get a good taste of you, his tongue hungrily battling with yours, you biting down on his lower lip earning a deep groan of his. It's music to your ears.

You stumble into the bedroom, bumping into stuff on the way, making you giggling into his mouth, kissing his smirk away. All the noise in the room is your wet sloppy battle of your mouths, moans and little whispers, a big yelp from you when he buries you under him while dropping into the bed he didn't touched for days now.

He's like the fog. Coats and fills everything and anything. He's all on you, chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck, nibbling the skin, hands roaming every reachable part of you. He is all you can see, hear and feel at this moment. Nothing else just William.

"Is this good?" He roars in your ear, suddenly so loud and raging, but in reality his voice was merely above a whisper. "Hmm?"

"Yes.." Wish you could gain back your ability to speak. You can't find your voice, the only thing you can concentrate on is his jeans causing a sweet friction between your thighs. You breath hitches in your throat when his hips pushes your legs wider, reaching your core clothed in just a thin panties.

"Gosh, do that again." You don't know what he really means, you can't remember what was your thought a second ago, the thrust of his hips against you forces a loud moan out of you. "There we go, that's it. Again."

He repeats, faster and harder, your head spins with the pleasure building up inside you. He's teasing you, and he enjoys it more than anything else in this world, you can see it on his face. Smug, wide toothy grin, satisfied with his affect on your whole being.

You became erratic, trying to peel his clothes off with shaky hands, eagerly grasping any and every part of him you can reach, he lets out a low chuckle, embarrassment growing in the back of your head, still not enough to stop you from nudging his shirt, playing with the buttons. You are just fumbling, he's the one doing the work of undressing himself for you, and you keep hearing his smiley scoffs watching you get greedy.

His eyes shifts between you and the buttons, cursing faintly when the last one is putting up a fight with his fingers. You push his hands aside, undoing the button easily, and the relief on his face is priceless. He tosses the clothing on the ground, his muscles shifting and moving under his glowing skin.

"You are fucking amazing." You breath out, looking up into his eyes, he needs to know you mean it. Every word of praise and love, you mean it. He's taken aback a little, looking at you the same he did when you kissed him back in the living room. Like you are out of this world, a dream come true.

He kisses you with burning fire, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare and naked, not wasting any time to get to know closer all that skin he never touched before. You gasp when his mouth locks on your nipple, then the other, switching between them, leaving wet patches all around you chest, his breath making you shiver against his body heat.

The heat that retreats suddenly, forcing you to lift your heavy eyelids. He towers over you, positioned between you thighs, watching you with darkened eyes. Scanning your face, chest and belly, his gaze travelling down to your panties, already soaked.

You watch him mesmerized, eagerly waiting for what he's about to do. Well, if you can wait it out. You hips rocks against him softly, your arms twitching while you calculate if you can reach him from your position. He might realized you don't have the patience for his teasing right now, his big hand pressed down on your lower belly, thumb slowly sliding down to your clit, making you gasp loudly. He doesn't stop there, after a tiny pressure he goes further, brushing the wet material, mumbling under his nose.

"Damn fucking hell." He slides his thumb up and down for a couple of times before pushing your panties to the side. Not wasting any time, he slips his middle finger inside you, gently picking up a nice and steady pace pounding in and out. Your hips rock against his finger, when you think you can get the right rhythm, his thumb pushes down on your little bud, another finger joins his middle one, completely throwing you off course. He's the one in charge, and you are compliant to whatever he wants to do with you.

*

Just the sheer sight of you pushes Billy to the edge. Spread wide under him, vulnerable just for him, moaning and sighing in pleasure while his fingers works. He can't believe he missed out on you all these years, the perfect woman was in front of his eyes all along, who would have given him everything on this world, including herself, in and out.

His thoughts adding fuel to his own need, his cock twitching in his pants when you flutter around his fingers. Billy hears you muttering. Sometimes it's i want you, i need you, sometimes it's have me, i'm yours. He swears it's the biggest turn on hearing you pleading, for him, for anything he can give.

He can feel you nearing your climax, your breaths rapid, hips swinging faster into his hand. At this point you are fucking yourself on his fingers. He has to slows down a little, and you whine in response, your hands moving between you legs, trying to force Billy's hand to continue with the previous fastness.

But he denies you this, smirking seeing your frustrated face, eyelids open slightly, he knows you barely can see through them, lost in his touch.

He continues to play with your folds, his hand sliding easily on your wetness, up and down. He frees himself from the now uncomfortable pants with his gree hand, pushing it down just enough to not be in the way. He strokes his length before adjusting himself between your legs, ready to replace his fingers.

He waits for you, your face telling everything you feel, and when you arch your back, butt pushing down into the mattress, he retreats his wet fingers earning a painful whine from you again, he groan with a big smile on his face. He slides your juices on his dick, grabbing your body still rocking back and forth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, and when he catches you in the right moment, he slides inside with a torturing sweet sound. You moan grabbing his hand with one hand, the other desperately clutching onto the sheets.

He would kill for this to never end. You whining under him as he makes literal love to you. He's not too rough and not to gentle. He imagined taking you in every way, but vanilla wasn't in these fantasies. But it's just perfect.

The room is filled with your breaths and groans, the wet sound of Billy's smashing into you with a slap of skin. Billy leans down to kiss your parted lips, hands on your torso, leaving lingering touches every inch he can reach. He wants to engrave this in his memory, every second to remember.

Your chest pushed against his, letting Billy's lips discover every sensitive spot, your fingers caressing the nape of his neck.

Usually he's more talkative, asking questions and demanding answers, but that's with a usual woman. He would be rougher, he would put his hands around your pretty neck and squeeze every time a little when he slides out. But he feels no need when you are giving him everything he wants, your body signaling everything to him, your hand guiding him if needed, face telling him what you like the most.

So when a frown appears on you, your hand clutching on his hair a little too harshly he knows you are getting close. Your voice following proves his suspicion.

"Billy, i'm.."

"I know baby. Faster or harder?" He needs to know which one will be the one taking you to your high, and you reply eagerly.

"Har...der" You can't finish the word properly, his hips smacking to you so hard you lose your breath. And he continues to do it with his fingers circling on your clit. Soon he feels your body tremble, your thighs shaking around his body. "C'mon baby." He whispers breathless, a kind of nudging for you to let go, and you do.

He groans when your walls hugs him inside, for a moment he enjoys the sensation before picking up the pace again to chase his own release. It's his time to get lost in you, and it's so easy to lose control when he still can feel the aftermath of your high, you legs pushing his ass closer to your body. The warmness of your aching cunt mixed with the taste of victory guided by your whispering encouraging him to come undone inside you makes him feral. His moves gets sloppier, slower but harder before cumming in a crushing force. Oh and it's the best he ever had.

His body collapses on top of yours, Billy is already feeling the weight of sleep, the long day behind him catching up with him. He wanted to do more, have you in every way, or at least fall asleep still inside you.

Gosh he wants you forever, be commited to him, loyal to him, his desire to keep you for the rest of his life grows with the small kisses you pamper him with while he recovers on top of you. His whole weight is on you, he comes to his senses quick when you shift under him a bit. He pulls out slowly with the rise of his other parts, you whimper feeling him leave you empty. You let him out of the grasp of your legs, a small smile gracing your exhausted face.

He can't help but think about how fucking dumb Frank would look if he would tell him how sweetly you let him inside your body. How you pleaded to him to cum when he is balls deep and after all that, you lay spread out still, satisfied with his cum dripping out of you.

The only think he can think about is how badly he wants to describe detail to detail to Frank what he did to you tonight, to make it clear you are his.

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

heyy it's the giyuu simp hiding in your request box ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ mind if i sneak in another request :> just gonna slide this with a belated valentines day card

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may i request a giyuu x reader headcanons? where its just giyuu and the reader living a peacefull and happy life with their kids, just fluff of how their every day life goes and giyuu with his kids :D maybe even some headcanons of the other pillars meeting the kids and his s/o (feel free to change the idea ofcc i don't mind if you write it at all (~^.^)~)

Hello fellow Giyuu simp lolol

This sounds really cute! Of course I’ll write it! ʕ◡ᴥ◡ʔ♡

This turned out to be very long haha hope you don’t mind :)

Giyuu x Fem!Reader with Kids!! ♡

AU: Life Without Demons

♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡

♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡

Giyuu was the first to ask for kids. It was a shock since you’d figure he’d be too nervous and insecure to think he’d be able to be a father. But he loves you too much to not have children with you. He just can’t picture his life without you and both of your guys’ children in his future.

“Y/N...” he approaches you timidly, “I have um something to ask you...” he kept fidgeting with his hands and struggled making eye contact. His cheeks starting to burn. “What is it, Giyuu??” He sat there a bit, his brows knitted together as if he’d trying to figure out how to compile his sentence. “Let’s have children!” He finally bursts out boldly. You were taken back for a second but smiled wide and hugged him, agreeing with all of your heart.

Giyuu didn’t want too many kids. He only wanted about two children. (Maybe three children he’s thinking on it 👀) And that’s what you both had. One boy and one girl. The boy took more of your looks but also had a good mix of Giyuu as well. He ended up taking his eyes and messy hair but had your hair color and overall facial features. The girl was a very good mix between the two of you. The boy was the eldest child.

Giyuu was the type of parent to spoil his children a lot. You often had to stop him because it got hard for him to say no to them a lot of the times. But when it came down to it, he knew when to be strict and stand his ground. Like if one of your children throws a tantrum for not getting the toy they want, Giyuu would have a stern tak with them about how they need to learn the importance of being told “no” and to handle it like a “big boy/girl”

Giyuu would also do whatever it takes to help you with anything around the house or with the kids. He’d also do anything to spend as much time with his children as possible.

Giyuu also secretly loved it when his kids would get nightmares and ask to sleep with the both of you. He really loved sleeping next to his family and would often invite the kids into the futon even if they didn’t have a nightmare that night. They’d always get really excited and join without hesitation. He also LOVES holding their hands. He loves how tiny and soft they are in his large, calloused ones. He also really loved having them ride on his shoulders

When it came down to being the good cop bad cop, you both had an equal share between it. I can see Giyuu being pretty strict but not to the point where it’s suffocating. He’d still take extra precautions to make sure his kids are safe and don’t get into trouble. He also tries to come to complete understandings with his children when they’re in disagreements with him. He’d sit and talk with them and make sure they don’t feel invalidated or hurt. Sometimes though, he’ll have to put his foot down and tell his children to listen to them and not question his thinking. He’ll often try to come back to them later and explain again.

Kamboko Squad and Pillars’ Reactions to First Born (and general interactions with kids)

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

When the news got out to everyone that you both were expecting children, they were all so very excited.

You were a few weeks pregnant and Tanjirou (and the rest of the squad) came by to visit and he was able to smell it off you. You were a little shocked how he was able to notice until he explained how his mom smelled a certain way when pregnant with his siblings. Then it made a bit more sense. Kind of.

Poor little boy teared up because of how happy he was for the both of you. He was so happy to see Giyuu with the love of his life and now starting a family. Inosuke got all those fluffy things around his head. He was very soft and gentle around you and it was really cute. Sometimes he’d just stare at your bloated stomach and it seemed like he was having a psychic conversation with the baby lolol.

Nezuko was very excited to meet the new baby and couldn’t wait nine months! Zenitsu was really happy for the both of you and it really warmed his heart to hear the baby’s heartbeat. He also got very scared for you because he heard that giving birth if very painful and he’d never want to go through something like that either.

They all saw your kids as their own little siblings, especially Tanjirou. Tanjirou is very good with kids so they ended up liking Tanjirou a lot and would often beg you to let him visit more often so they could play with him. Nezuko also saw them and her own siblings and would always volunteer to knit/fix their haoris if they ever got damaged. She always brought snacks (usually toasted rice crackers) for the kids when she visited. She also helped with cooking dinner when she visited.

Zenitsu loved playing with them. Until one day your son found a worm and showed it to Zenitsu and he freaked out and thought it was a snake for a second. He started to become more wary of your son from then on.

Inosuke shared his boar mask with them and would let them ride on his back as he ran around. He also visited one day with a nicely wrapped box (wrapped by Tanjirou) and gifted it to your kids. You and Giyuu were very confused to see that it only had acorns in there.

You had Shinobu do regular check ups with you to make sure the pregnancy was going well. Despite her constant teasing, she actually told Giyuu how happy she was for him. This really warmed his heart and he couldn’t thank Shinobu enough for all her help. She helped with both the pregnancies/deliveries

Mitsuri was so so SO excited to meet the new babies!! She seemed more excited than you and Giyuu! She loves babies and thinks they’re really cute. And the fact that it’s going to be yours and Giyuu’s baby??? Geez, that just makes it 10x more adorable!! She really really wanted to be the first friend to hold the baby so you granted her wish. She was crying so much, she was so happy.

The baby’s cheeks became very red from how much Mitsuri pinched them. She nicknamed him her “Little Mochi” because of his squishy cheeks. (and she nicknamed your girl her “Little Sakura”)

Obanai kept trying to deny how happy and excited he was. “Hmph! I don’t do babies. Not at all.” But then he saw its cute, little chubby cheeks and couldn’t resist. He then vowed to be the greatest uncle to your baby boy (and girl once she visited the world)

Kyojuro was really excited to meet the baby too. His booming voice scared the baby and made him cry so Kyo learned to be more quiet around him. He was so nervous holding the baby but then got more use to it and didn’t want to hand him back. He wanted to hold on to the little boy forever!!

Muichiro was mostly dazed out but waved his finger in front of him and your little baby boy held onto him. Muichiro got very happy. “Y/N, Y/N! Look! He’s- he’s holding on to me!!” You’ve never seen him smile so wide. He’d often visit and be like, “Can I play with him today? I’ve missed him.” And he’d play with him for hours! He was the same with your little girl as well once she came around.

Sanemi kept trying to act all tough. “No! I don’t care about kids! Least of all babies! I couldn’t care less about Tomioka’s stupid ba-“ his eyes widened when he saw the baby. Then you saw the most softest smile on his face for the first time. He hugged the baby tight to him and didn’t let go or move for a while. He might or might not have teared up. But you swore with him that you saw nothing 👀 He’d make plenty of ohagi for the kids and make some extra for you and Giyuu. Giyuu was very happy to see Sanemi opening up a bit more and glad he became better friends with him as well.

“Tch, don’t get too comfortable, Tomioka. I’m only here for my niece, nephew and Y/N.” He was teasing he loved Giyuu too.

Tengen and his wives were all over the baby! His wives loved the baby so so so much!! They even planned out a baby shower for you when they heard the news so a lot of your baby stuff came from them! Once he finally joined the world, all of them teared up from joy. They all took turns holding the baby, playing with him, bouncing him on their laps. Tengen said that if you or Giyuu ever needed help, him and his wives were right there anytime.

The wives loved playing with your daughter! They’d often do her hair and make it really pretty. They’d also often spoil her with new pretty kimonos and hairpins and always said, “Once she gets older, we’ll always have girls nights out! Do all kind of girl talks and girl things! It’ll be so much fun!!”

Tengen got the baby a whole bunch of shiny jewelry and was like, “Ha! Now your baby boy shall be flamboyant! Even more flamboyant than he was before!!” He also secretly found it extremely adorable how he looked like a little baby Giyuu at first. Then he grew to have more of your facial features and it just made it even cuter for Tengen. He had a little soft spot for your daughter because he thought having a daughter would be very precious so he’d literally do anything for her (and would protect her with his life)

Gyomei was SO happy!!! He of course teared up too and was very very gentle with him. It was kind of cute seeing such a large man hold such a tiny little human. It’s like he could fit them each in one palm. He was one of your go to nanny’s and he’d always wear a pink apron when looking over the kids. He’d spoil them with lots of baked sweets. Everytime he visited, he always had a new beaded necklace to gift them. They ended getting too many and he stopped at one point. But he still gave them one on their birthdays

Shinobu found babies/kids a bit icky since they do have many bodily fluids they can’t control and sometimes don’t wash their hands but she still did normal check ups with them and was very good with them. She’d often visit with some new toys for the kids. She even got your daughter and little butterfly clip. Your son felt left out so she got him one too. For a while both your kids refered to her as the “Butterfly Lollipop Lady” since she gave them lollipops after every doctor visit. She’d just smile chillingly at Giyuu and say, “Tomioka-San, I figured you’d at least teach them my name after all I’ve done for you and your wife.” She was just teasing, she secretly loved her nickname

Shinobu also really loved listening to the baby’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. She also loved putting her hand on your belly and often talked to the baby. She’ll never admit to anyone else but she really enjoyed doing these things with both your pregnancies

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, it's my first time here !! I wonder if you could ask my question, if possible of course of Yandere Geralt of Rivia...

Imagine a scenario where the reader is from our world and went to Geralt's world, then the reader find him at him and tells his story and asks for help to return to his home... Of course, as time goes by, Geralt becomes "sick with love " for the reader to the point of becoming Yandere.

Note: the reader sees Geralt as best friend or older brother.

Thanks for your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

You were simply relieved you weren’t alone. 

There were a lot of terrible things that could happen to you, reaching from being mauled by a monster to cut down by a sword, and so, so many gruesome things more. Whatever Geralt saw in you, you were glad it didn’t make him leave you alone to your misery, no matter how strange you were.

Truthfully, you weren’t even a good choice as a squire, but aside from grumbling about your unhelpfulness when it came to battle, Geralt hadn’t driven you away. Despite being rough around the edges, he truly was the hero you needed in your predicament, and for that, you were thankful. 

Whatever you could do, you did, may it be fetching water or helping set up a tent. While the life of a traveling witcher was nothing you wished to pursue forever, you put up with everything you could so that you wouldn’t end up on your own again. The first week spent stumbling through the wild and running from monsters had been enough bad experience in this world for you. Now, your mind was only on one thing: Getting home.

It probably was a luxury to have Geralt’s help in not dying and achieving your goal, but all the more, you were relieved that whatever power made you fall into this strange world had enough mercy to send you this angel of a man. No matter how many dirty, uncomfortable looks you got for being with him whenever you two came into a town, you would endure them, knowing Geralt was the key to make this situation just a memory and send you back home to your family.

Home. It sounded heavenly. 

You sighed deeply, slowly awaking from your slumber. It couldn’t have been long that you fell asleep, the campfire still burning lively next to you. You still felt tired, but something was different than usual. Heavy even.

Pulling down the blanket you had wrapped yourself with, you saw the big arm laying around you, making you realized the heat of a second body in your back. Geralt never slept closer than necessary to you, but without the need to guess, he was definitely sleeping right beside you, spooning you from behind. 

With a flushing heat rising to your face, you were too embarrassed to say anything, even though his arm alone was too heavy to fall asleep with again. He might have accidentally fallen asleep next to you after having some drinks before bed and mistaken you for someone to cuddle up to. But waking him wasn’t an option. Geralt struggled with his sleep enough as it is; you wouldn’t dare to interrupt him and cause a scene. But the reality was very different from what you assumed. 

You heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, not shy to pull away the fabric covering you and pushing his face into your skin. As you listened to him mutter your name, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine, but you tried not to make him notice you were awake. “[Name], [Name], [Name]...” he mumbled, and you bit your lip. The way he said your name always made it sound reproachful, despite you not remembering what you did wrong that day. 

“Look at you, letting your guard down. Don’t you know that I...”

His voice trailed off as you felt him shift suddenly. You reacted quickly, pretending to be fast asleep with your eyes closed and lips slightly parted innocently. Geralt let out a small chuckle before you felt him reach over you, dragging his thumb over your lip. “What are you dreaming about? Your heart is racing.”

Realizing you forgot the first thing about Witcher - their heightened senses - you didn’t know how to help yourself other than stirring a little in your sleep, putting on a frown. Sure enough, that made him halt in his tracks and back away a little, as if he feared you waking up. Only when you settled down again did Geralt relax as well, returning to his spooning position. 

“Seriously...” he kept muttering. “How am I supposed to go on like this? Every time we meet a Sorceress, I am afraid she will have a way to send you home.”

Something about his words gave you a sad impression. Almost as if parting would hurt him, but you weren’t sure if this was just your impression or if the tiny bit of his past that he told you about actually gave him this fear. In your eyes, Geralt was fearless and kept his composure no matter what, but what if you had misjudged him?

“I’d like to keep you all to myself. Lock you up and never let you go. Maybe when we get to Kaer Morhen, I could--”

This time, his voice halted suddenly, and he rose again from behind you. “Are you awake?” he asked, quiet still as if he was hoping you were asleep after all. You simply remained in your pretend sleep, taking an audible breather and hoping it would fool him. He remained in this careful stiffness for a while before he finally drew back. Immediately, you were surrounded by the chilly air of the night as his body disappeared, but before you dared to attempt to move around, you heard more of his mumbles.

“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t... It’s not right...”

What couldn’t he do?

You were ready to blame all the gibberish you had just heard on the mead you two had before bed, but the questions didn’t seem to stop circling your mind. Geralt seemed to fall asleep somewhere a bit further away, while you felt wide awake now. You couldn’t believe that Geralt - of all people! - could have developed any kind of feelings for you. But why else would he be worried about your return? Why would he say those things about locking you up?

Way too freaked out, you tried to make sense of what you had witnessed. Certainly, he didn’t want you to be awake as it went down, but now that you knew, you were left conflicted. Part of you kept getting goosebumps as you remembered the feeling of his face pressed into your shoulder and his words echoing in your ear. The other part tried to justify it with any and all reasons like the alcohol, loneliness maybe. There was no sleep for you after all, and Geralt kept stealing irritated glances at you the following day until he finally asked, “Are you okay?” 

You flinched after being suddenly addressed, not even your exhaustion able to tear you out of your thoughts that still pondered about the last night. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, and he contemplated your response for a bit before replying, “There’s this place we should go to next. Maybe we can find some books on portals there.”

“Sounds good,” you chuckled. Nervosity spread inside of you as you hoped he didn’t mean the place that he was talking about last night. 

“I grew up there. You might even be able to sleep in a bed for a change. Kaer Morhen is also safe and...”

After that part, your mind simply shut off as the word kept repeating over and over in your head. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen.

Kaer Morhen, lock up, never let go.

“...and it isn’t far from here,” he finished his explanation, looking at you as he waited for an answer while you could feel the horror showing in your expression. The red flags were so abundantly clear by now, but you absolutely refused to think this way about him. He wasn’t a bad man, he would never... or?

There were a lot of terrible things that could have happened to you on this journey, but you had put all your trust into Geralt to keep you safe. To help you. To be a companion so you wouldn’t be lonely. And until the end, you hoped Geralt wouldn’t turn out to be the monster or the sword you feared so much.

But who could tell what he’d do when he finally had a taste of living out the things he desired?