#but I’m so scared it won’t take off or work or be sustainable

[rattusrattus3]

Genuinely can’t tell if I’m being a bit delusional with my dreams or if not 😅 I soooooo badly want to quit my job before the summer but I feel like I need to have everything Ready and be Making Money before I justify quitting - I’m just so worried I will pour all this time and effort and energy in and have it flop 🥲

[snakegorl212006]

The “little things” they do  (Pomefiore)

--------------Epel--------------------------------------------- “Uug i can’t stand him” epel groans as he aggressively carves another apple “always nagging like he’s my mom or something.” he huffs as he finishes the final details “why do you stay with a man like that” epel mumbles. He and vil got into a heated argument again. Only god knows what they’re on about this time but it was way too early for any of that. “Well..maybe he’s just looking after us” i stated “sure sure, ‘taking care of us’. Do you truly believe that” he asked “well he has made sure i’ve eaten and have a healthy-ish sleep schedule” i replied “i wouldn't blame you for you thinking such things though” i mumbled as i leaned back on the apple tree. “Why do you always defend him… have you forgotten what has happened here” epel asked. His expression saddened “I’m not defending him entirely-. How about this? How about i ask him to lay off” i suggested “by yourself” epel asked “no it’s fine. You shouldn't” epel said as he picks up another apple “why. Don’t you want him to get off your back” I asked “yes but i don’t want you to go by yourself with him” epel replied “why not. Vil hasen’t-” “i don’t want you to die again ok gosh” he huffs angrily “epel.. Did you have a nightmare or something” i asked with a slight sigh “you don’t….I guess you can say it’s a nightmare” epel mumbled “do you want to tell me about it” i asked “.....you were hurt really bad.blood was everywhere and-” epel paused “I don’t want to talk about it anymore” he said. “Just don’t trust vil with anything. Don’t even dare.not even rook alright. Trust me. It’s for the best” epel said as he looked at me dead in my eyes “ok.. I won’t…. How about we made some dessert over with trey. I think he can make some apple pie.” i offered, which made him smile “gosh you’r the best. Always know how to make lil ole me happy” epel said as he grabs my hand “lets go then” epel adds as he drags me up and away to heartslabyul. Must be one nasty nightmare for him to act like that.

----------Rook--------------------------------------------------- “Bonsoir, mon cher” a voice spoke behind me, shocking me out of my skin “oop. Sorry i never meant to scare you” rook said “it’s fine just don’t do that again. Anyways what brings you here” i asked “I enjoy visiting the gardens in,the now, Savanaclaw wing. It brings me much nostalgic memories” he smiles “say may I be of aid. I also do enjoy a little garden work” Rook asked “well leona isn't going to do it so might as well. “Parfait! Je vous remercie, mon cher” he replied, kissing my hand before warding off somewhere else. I can never get used to his eccentricness. While planting some new plants that came in i came across something hard.I digged deeper to see something white…my stomach turns praying to anyone that this isen’t what i think it is “i suppose i made that one too shallow” Rook spoke which made me jump, tripping on the water hose making me fall. Rook grabbed that white thing and to my horror. It was a human femur “you know this place was the original garden Vil and i use to bury our victims to sustain the plants. We kinda stolen this from Roi de Fort and his crime schemes” rook said as he examines the bone “Don’t worry. You weren’t buried here. But if you desire it mon cher-” Rook stated as he look down at me “nonononononono. I'm fine. Just put that back i i need to go-” i replied then he laughs “you have that same reaction too~ ma parole, is this what you call daja vu. Not to worry. I’ll finish this from here” Rook reasured as he picks up the shovel and buries back the bone. I left for him to continue hiding that….”how many bodies are even on this property”

------------Vil------------------------------------------ “Vil, are you here” I asked as I entered the wing. Apparently he hasn't been himself lately even got epel concerned. Rook asked me to go have a chat with him. Make him feel better I suppose. “vil.Are you alright” I asked, waiting for some signs. When there was no answer I pulled out the necklace from my shirt and followed the vibrations. This leads me to his room. I knocked “vil. Is something wrong” i asked. The door opened to see vil looking less than himself. His hair all shriveled, eyeliner running down from his eyes overall he looks pitiful. “Is there anything i could do” i asked and he sighed “just….sit down” he said sounding more irritated. Did epel and him get into another argument? I entered his room to see a mess. But I ignored it and sat on the bed. Vil walks to the vanity and starts his nightly routine in silence. “You know. You look like someone i knew” Vil said as he brushed out his hair “you know i feel like this’ll be a common occurrence” i replied which made him smile a little “what were they like” i asked “Schön…” he smiled as he finished up. “What happened to them” I asked “oh, it was an accident…” he replied rather quickly “that’s all you need to know.” he said as he turns off the lights “if you wouldn't mind. Can you stay here tonight? I’ve been having trouble sleeping as of late. Perhaps you can keep me company.afterall you did come here to make me feel better” he asked. I thought about it and nod “nothing funny ok” I replied. He grabs my hand and lays down next to me. I took off my shoes and slept next to him.  I was awakened by a shift on the bed. I couldn't open my eyes or even move but all i heard was soft sobs as tears on my chest “i'm sorry... I’m so sorry…” I heard vil say “this won’t happen. Not again” he adds as he holds me tight “I promise.I will obtain that happily ever after you so desire. Things will return to normal….I promise” Vil mumbles more as I feel his grip tighten “I’m not letting you relive that nightmare...Not again…”

[hannahmanderr]

For @scarletsaphire's ask in response to this ask game. Prompt was #19 for Gray Ghost.

important blob ghost context here lol

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Danny, I swear there’d better be a good answer to why you brought me to the freaking dumpster behind the Nasty Burger at two in the morning.”

He turned back to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Aw, come on Val, I know how to show a girl a good time.” 

That earned him a thwack on the back of his head.

“Ow! Okay, okay, lesson learned,” he grumbled, rubbing where she’d hit him. 

“I’m still serious about having a good answer,” she said. She hugged herself tightly. “And thanks for warning me to bring a jacket by the way. Why can’t I put my suit on again?”

“You’ll scare them off.”

Valerie stopped in her tracks. “Them? Oh my God, do not tell me you brought me here to a dumpster to see ghosts!”

“Hey, you already established the dumpster thing!” he said, still wearing his goofy grin. “And I won’t tell you I brought you here to see ghosts, ‘cause I brought you here to meet ghosts.”

“... You are about three seconds away from getting shoved into your own thermos, ghost boy. Human or not.”

He finally dropped the grin. “Right. Sorry. Serious mode. But, uh, I am being serious about meeting a few ghosts.”

She frowned. “I thought we talked about this.”

“I know, I know. And I promise I’m not trying to change your mind or anything, I just… wanted to show you.”

He watched her carefully, trying to read her poker face. He hoped she believed him about not wanting to try and influence her. She’d made him promise, after all, and he didn’t break his promises.

Especially to someone like her.

Even if she was so close, yet still so far.

When she didn’t respond, he ventured further. “Think of it like evidence or something. Or - or when you go into a safari and you just watch animals do their thing in their natural habitat.”

“Isn’t their natural habitat the Ghost Zone?”

“Eh, sort of? There’s enough ambient ectoplasm around Amity for them to sustain themselves, I think. Plus I kinda get the feeling I’m like a magnet for the stuff, and since I’m always here…”

He tried not to shy away under her piercing gaze, as pretty as it was.

No. Bad Fenton. Friend.

Finally, she sighed heavily. “Alright. Show me what you got. But only because you already dragged me out here in the middle of the night, okay? This isn’t gonna be a regular thing.”

“Yes!” he said with a fist pump. He realized how stupid he probably looked, but he was too excited to care.

He turned toward the dumpster, trying to ignore the odor drifting out from the one opened side. Taking a deep breath, he put his fingers to his mouth, and with a little bit of energy from his core fused into his breath, he whistled soundlessly.

Soundlessly to humans, anyway.

Valerie tilted her head. “... What the heck are you doing?”

He shot her a grin. “Consider it the dinner bell.”

The first one faded into visibility right in front of Valerie’s face. She squeaked in very uncharacteristic surprise, and Danny didn’t miss how her hand twitched up to her bag, where he knew she stowed a spare blaster or two. To his relief, she didn’t move her hand any further and instead let the ghost drift towards him with a wary glare.

The little blob ghost was round, bright green and about the size of a grapefruit. Actually a pretty decent size for a blob ghost like this. Its core glimmered brightly from within its fluid body.

It floated towards him with curiosity brimming in its red, beady eyes. “Brrrp?” it ‘said’ as it bumped against Danny’s cheek. The sound could only be described as the perfect midpoint between a chirp and a purr.

He smiled widely and used one finger to scratch the underside of the blob. “Heya Jeff,” he said, making sure to pour as much affection as he could into his voice. In return, Jeff chirped again and nuzzled against his neck contentedly.

Valerie seemed to be frozen in place, not sure whether to be upset, disturbed, or endeared. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the blob sitting on Danny’s shoulder and Danny himself. “... You named a blob ghost Jeff?”

“Not me. Uh, Kat I think her name is. The cashier? In the year above us?”

Her eyebrows lifted at the name. “That’s who she’s been going on and on about? I thought she was talking about a puppy or something!”

“Mmm, nope. Probably this Jeff. I’m assuming anyway.” He scratched Jeff again. “Where’s everyone else?” he murmured, this time in ghost speak.

He didn’t really like having to speak ghost in front of Valerie, especially as she was still getting used to all his weirdness, but the blob ghosts didn’t really understand much beyond the common ghost language. Through some trial and error, he and Tucker and Sam had found that they seemed to understand human languages if there was enough emotion behind whatever was being said, but it had to be a pretty strong emotion, and even then it was hit or miss. They still always responded to Danny best, anyway.

Blob ghost communication aside, he couldn’t help but wince just slightly when he saw her troubled reaction to the ghost speak. Her face exploded with surprise before melting back into a guarded caution.

Jeff chirped a response before floating off his shoulder and zooming inside the dumpster. “Where’s he going?” Valerie asked quietly.

“Getting the rest of his family.”

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Jeff emerged from the open dumpster lid, followed closely by a dozen or so more blob ghosts, each of varying size and transparency, but all sharing the same green color. They all swarmed Danny, rubbing up against his face and shoulders and arms and brrrping happily.

He laughed at the ticklish sensation. “Alright, alright, cut it out guys!”

They in fact did not cut it out. If anything, they just cuddled up to him more. Excitement radiated from their tiny little auras.

Even through the bombardment of affection, he managed to catch a glimpse of Valerie’s face soften into slight amusement, even trying to stifle a laugh herself.

That alone made his heart and core soar far higher than any attention the blob ghosts could give him.

“Red, I’d like to formally introduce you to the Nasty clan,” he said proudly, attempting (and somehow failing) to gesture to the ghosts around him.

She pulled a bit of a face, but Danny didn’t sense any increase in hostility or wariness. “That’s not very nice.”

“I mean that’s what everyone calls them.”

“... Everyone?” Her eyes followed a particularly excited blob, only about the size of a grape, zipping around Danny’s head. 

“Yeah. A bunch of employees kind of took up naming them all, since they’re always hanging around here.” He glanced at her. “Honestly, I thought you would’ve known about them by now. Especially with your trackers and all.”

She scowled. “Daddy made me promise to keep them off during shifts after I got written up for ditching to help stop that one ghost who was tearing up the boardwalk.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that guy! You should’ve seen me trying to get off the Tilt-a-Whirl after they emergency stopped it so I could find a place to change. I just kept crashing into things.”

“Isn’t that what you normally do anyway?” she teased, a genuine laugh bursting from her lips. It sent Danny blushing deep red for more reasons than one.

Sticking out his lip in a pretend pout, he plopped down right onto the cement and folded his legs underneath him. “You hear that?” he asked the blobs, not caring that they probably didn’t understand a word of what either of them were saying. “She’s being mean to me.”

“Hey, you asked for it, bringing me out here in the middle of the night.” She knelt in front of him, nearly touching her knees to his. His heart skipped a beat as he realized how close she was.

No! We’re not doing this! Think of something else!

“They have a real name too,” he blurted in a desperate attempt to immediately derail this train, abort, abort -

“A real name?”

He cleared his throat as Jeff settled into his lap. His hands instinctively wrapped around him gently and began petting. “Well, like, an actual name. A ghost name.”

She watched as Jeff began to purr contentedly and flatten himself against Danny’s legs. “Will you tell me?” she asked quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Crap. Of course he didn’t think this through. Of course. “I - well, um, the thing is, there’s - there’s not exactly an English equivalent…”

“... Tell me anyway.”

His eyes jerked up to see her staring intently, a complete contrast to how she’d just been moments ago. The light of the blob ghosts’ glows cast a glimmer in her gorgeous green eyes, making him swallow thickly.

“Vakrot,” he whispered in ghost speech. “I… it kind of means ‘potato’? But not exactly? Ancients, I don’t know how to explain this…”

“Potato,” she repeated with a smile of disbelief. She shook her head. “Figures. They’re kind of shaped like potatoes anyway.”

He tried to calm his heart as another blob - this one nicknamed Pepsi, for some reason - nestled into his hair. They were way too tuned into emotions, and agitating them wasn’t going to do any favors. “I guess I never thought of that. I always assumed it’s because they like french fries so much? But now that I think about it, it’s not like there’s exactly a ghost equivalent of french fries - well, I did have these things one time at this little stand out past the Carnivorous Canyon, and they tasted a lot like fries, but they were in little balls, and Tucker -”

He blushed again when she held up a hand to stop his babbling. “Is that why you had me bring these?” she asked, pulling a paper bag out of her own.

He grinned. “Yeah. I thought you might like to try and feed them.”

“Feed them?” She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that kind of go against the idea of it just being observation?”

Two of the blob ghosts were trying to squeeze themselves into the bag already. He snatched it away and held it shut tightly. Those things could be slippery when they wanted to be. “It’s fiiine,” he said with a drawl. “People do it all the time. It’s like feeding the ducks at the park or something.”

“You know that’s bad for the ducks, right? And wildlife experts are always having to tell people to quit feeding animals.”

He dropped his hands into his lap, bag and all, nearly squishing Jeff. “Killjoy.”

Now it was Valerie’s turn to grin sheepishly, though hers seemed far more timid. “Look, someone’s gotta keep you in check, Fenton. You may be trying to babysit Amity Park, but you need a babysitter of your own half the time.”

Hmm. He did not know how he should feel about her calling herself his babysitter.

Trying to shove those thoughts away too, he offered the bag out to her. “Come on,” he said, as if he were coaxing a puppy. “You know you want to.”

She stared at the bag, then at him. Then at the bag again. His heart thrummed faster despite himself.

After nearly a minute of contemplation, she slowly took the bag and opened it. The blob ghosts immediately caught a whiff of its greasy contents and drifted over, chirping and purring. Danny noticed how her muscles tensed ever so slightly, and he gulped.

He was worried for the blob ghosts, thank you very much. He was absolutely not thinking about how well-defined her arms looked in the pale glow.

Nope.

Valerie, with a look of trepidation, took a single fry from the bag and held it out gingerly towards the tiny grape ghost that had been racing around Danny’s head. It didn’t need any more invitation before it simply stuck the end of the fry through its body, nearly running into its teeny core. 

Danny couldn’t help but grin wildly as Valerie’s face morphed into one of fascination. The best thing about blob ghosts was their translucent exterior, which gave them a perfect view of how the little ghost - Pipp, if he remembered correctly - swam its ectoplasm around the portion of fry it had absorbed. The little portion of fry dissolved away and funneled into its core, causing it to glow the slightest bit brighter.

His felt like his face was going to split open as her wide eyes found his. “Cool, right?” he asked eagerly.

She was already holding the fry out to Pipp again. “I… I never knew they could eat,” she whispered. “I never knew it could be so beautiful.”

If only you knew how beautiful you really are.

His stomach started doing somersaults. 

He was so, absolutely, 100 percent screwed.

He forced himself to swallow and grab a fry for himself, offering it to Jeff, who immediately absorbed the entire thing in one go. Much like Pipp’s, Jeff’s glow radiated stronger.

“These guys are the best kind of ghosts for converting stuff into ectoplasmic energy,” he explained. Was his voice really shaking that badly, or was it just his anxiety talking? “That’s why there’s so many of them. They can keep themselves going on practically anything. And then they like to kind of put themselves right around ambient ectoplasm and help feed back into it.”

“Like a weird, unalive version of a tree.” Her voice was breathy. “A tree that likes french fries.”

He couldn’t help but giggle. “That’s… surprisingly accurate?” he said as he made a grab for a few more fries.

They spent the next few minutes slowly feeding fries to the blob ghost clan, laughing as one named Bingus (God, that name cracked him up) nearly absorbed Pepsi in a rush to get to a fry first, cooing with pity at the ones who got left out, and chatting back and forth about ectoplasm and ghost biology.

That last one made his core sing with just how genuinely fascinated she was with the science of it all.

Soon enough, they were surrounded by brightly glowing blob ghosts, lighting up the area like tiny green fairy lights. Pepsi had nestled herself back into Danny’s hair again, and Bingus perched on Valerie’s shoulder. Each of them held a blob in their lap, and other than one that had randomly decided to stick itself to Danny’s elbow, the rest drifted around the two of them in a lazy, post-french fry bliss.

Danny offered his last fry to Pepsi as he watched Valerie gently stroke Jeff in her lap. His stomach was still doing somersaults, and the urge to say something - anything - to her was becoming impossible to resist.

“Hey,” he said quietly. Thank the Ancients he could do without a little less oxygen, because he was pretty sure he was breathing way too shallowly. “I… I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “For what?”

Breathe in, Fenton. “I promised you I wouldn’t try and push you. Back when we - when I finally told you the truth.” Breathe out. “You said you wanted time to figure things out for yourself, and you didn’t want to be rushed. And - and then I go and do something like this…”

She didn’t break her gaze on him. “I’m guessing… this isn’t just about the ghosts, is it?” she said with a quiver in her own voice.

He didn’t know how it happened. He couldn’t feel his own limbs. All he knew was he felt himself lean forward and she leaned forward just a split second later and her lips were on his and his lips were on hers and they were sharing the most tender, soft kiss he’d ever experienced under the warm glow of all the little blob ghosts.

He wanted to leap. He wanted to fly. He wanted to dive to the ground and pull himself up at the last second and laugh at the thrill it left in his stomach.

None of it would compare to the thrill he felt kissing her.

And yet…

Something in the back of his mind desperately tried to pull on the reins. This isn’t right. 

You’re still pushing her.

You’re taking advantage of her.

That had him crashing back down to Earth.

Shaking, his heart and core aching, Danny opened his eyes and pulled back just far enough to take his lips off hers. Valerie’s eyes flew open as she felt his warm kiss disappear.

Their foreheads were still close enough to touch. Desperately trying not to break down, he rested his against hers and gently grabbed one of her hands. 

“I… I don’t…” he whispered, struggling to find the words through the haze of his panging heart. “Are you… do you… really want to do this?”

He had to ask.

Even if the answer broke his heart.

For a few impossibly long seconds, her green eyes bore into his blue, and another pang rippled through him as he drank in the tiny galaxies he could see behind her gaze.

And then she had her hands on his cheeks and her lips on his again, kissing him with an insatiable fervor. He found himself too stunned to do anything at first, and as soon as he could comprehend the situation, he was reciprocating just as longingly, holding her waist as if his half-life depended on it.

If he had been flying before, he had shot beyond the stars now.

Something flickered behind his closed eyelids, but it was the farthest thing from his mind. This moment, right here right now, this was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that existed. The only thing he could ever want and need, filling his heart and core with a love he couldn’t put into words.

And if her kiss was any indication of how she felt, if the emotion radiating from her entire being was true, then she felt the exact same love in that moment.

This time when the kiss broke, it was mutual. They stayed there on their knees, foreheads pressed to one another, both catching their breath and trying to calm their fluttering hearts.

He kept his eyes closed. He wanted to savor this. Memorize every detail. Memorize the feeling of her mouth on his. Memorize each feeling soaring through him at top speed.

“Um, Danny?”

His eyes popped open. “Wha- oh.”

So that’s what the flicker had been.

The blob ghosts hadn’t moved, but now instead of their normal green, their cores shone in a glittery gold, piercing through their translucent skin and casting the two in a soft, golden glow.

He lifted his head as he stared at them in wonder. “Oh Ancients, of course.”

“What? What happened to them?” she asked. A distant part in the back of his mind trilled happily at how concern for the little ghosts filled her voice.

He grinned shyly. “Okay, so um… you know how I said blob ghosts can take like, almost anything and turn it into energy?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah…?”

“I think, um… I think they might’ve felt our emotion? Since it was so strong? And converted it into energy?”

Red tinged her cheeks. “And what the heck did we do that made it turn gold?”

Well.

He was pretty sure he knew the answer. If the pull in his heart was anything to go by.

Instead, he let his grin widen. She was so going to hate him for this. “I mean, those fries came from McDonald’s right? The golden arches?”

As expected, her fist landed right on his bicep, forceful enough to startle the blob ghost latched onto his elbow but not strong enough to hurt. “Okay, yeah, I deserved that.”

Valerie shook her head with a blinding smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him again in the light of the warm, gold glow.

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

TBB S3 Ep 12 Thoughts!!

Gotta remember to look up what the title means

But starting off with rainy Tantiss and dark music

Setting the tone and I’m here for it!!

Ah yes

There he is

hemcock

I guess this joke is getting old but at this point I refuse to spell his name correctly

Yanno bitch really showed up with an undercut and an eyebrow slit right from the get go, like some well payed criminal

I never noticed that tbh

Ey yo Tech don’t shove your sister like that

The eye contact between omega and Emerie right of the bat got me like 👀

Girls are cooking

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re save.”

Right.

Damn occupied pabu hurts my heart

But hey batcher and hunter are okay

Crosshairs hand tremor acting up in a stressful convo with his bros

🥺🥺🥺🥺

my heart

Crosshair having potential info on Tantiss and not sharing it is… complicated. On the one hand he had the option to save his brothers and actively chose not to. On the other hand it is very clear that Crosshair suffers from PTSD as a result of the trauma he sustained there. Trauma is rarely something that allows you to act based on logic or even your own morals. It puts you in survival mode, not because you’re not strong enough to withstand it, but because it’s necessary. That’s why it’s called survival mode. Very likely every instinct within him told him not to return there and that can be hard to overcome. But he’s willing to take that step for Omega. Severe and unyielding, indeed.

Also, Omega not having that issue, not being scared to return to Tantiss isn’t a show of her strength or Crosshair’s weakness. They had different experiences and have different brains, therefore they process and deal differently. Crosshair is not the weaker link because he was unable to muster up the courage to return before now. He’s simply in a different place than she is.

PHEE AND AZI!!!

“Tech told me all about your sparkeling personality.”

PARDONNE MOI???

I BEG YOUR BIGGEST PARDON

JUST TECH???

NOT “YOUR BROTHERS TOLD ME ALL ABOUT…”???

NO JUST TECH HUH??

SPENT SOME ALONE TIME WITH HIM DID YA PHEE???

Also Phee and Cross bickering hihihehe

They have good sibling energy already (sister in law vibes huh)

Why did Hunter sound like Rex during the briefing?

Like he just put his “man in charge” hat on for the first time

Phee just straight up turning the ship off to get in undetected is such a Tech thing tbh

Obsessed

Gotta watch that again

Beautiful

Oh wait fuck RAMPART is WORKING THERE???

Serves him right

I love seeing this trio work together tbh

Hunter, Cross and Wrecker bring such a different vibe without Echo, Tech and/or Omega there and idk why or how to describe it but I am here for it

“Anything?”

“Yup.” *clocks him* “Clear.”

Baby <3

“You remembered. How touching.”

Queen💅😪✨

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Tempting. But, no.”

FUCK ME.

KING SHIT 👑

Rampart is still a whore then, huh?

“Oh, please. You’re not going to kill me.”

“Not yet.”

GO OFF

“We’re in this together.”

Yo buddy saying shit like that seems like a nice way to loose some teeth

“This is your new home.”

The fact that they left us on THAT line

OW

Fr most of my thoughts on this are Crosshair brain rot and if I wasn’t so busy today you’d get to read it. (No u probably PROBABLY won’t get it another time bc I am adhd and I either forget or don’t have the motivation later so… lots of good thoughts get lost in the void unfortunately)

[keefwho]

November 17 - 2022

1:33 PM

There are periods where I am raring to go and ready to get everything done and then some. But yesterday and today I don’t want to anything. I actively want to do ANYTHING else than the things I have to do. Just forcing it almost doesn’t work on days like this mostly because whatever I work on is going to suffer greatly because of how much I despise having to do it. 

I think I’m going to do today’s requests tomorrow. I’ll also finish the commission I was working on today. I have the means to do this and still be on schedule so I should be okay with doing this. Sometimes I beat myself up over not sucking it up and doing extra. Fuck doing extra. With how I am right now I’m fine just doing the average. 

I was going to make up for not exercising yesterday too. 

3:24 PM

My day declined incredibly swiftly. First while I was shaving, I stabbed my dick with my “skin safe” buzzer. It was bad as far as minor injuries though. The kind of bad where it didn’t want to stop bleeding on it’s own so I had to use a bandaid. 

But then I had to take my dog out like every mid-day but she’s scared as fuck of the buffalo hide my parents are keeping right next to the outside door. She literally won’t go out my door and if she finally does, she’s sprinting for dear life to get outside. Then while she’s out there she goes animal mode and is just trying to find a place to get safe or something. Its MADDENING to watch. Something about her getting like that really pisses me off because she won’t listen or respond to anything. I’m trying to be comforting and get her close to the door so she can just run past but instead she’s trying to run to my parent’s front door or all the way around the house for some fucking reason. So I have to somehow get her to me, then use her collar to guide her to the door but she doesn’t want to move and ends up fucking SCREAMING as I gently move her. She actually tried biting my hand which sent me over. I can’t remember getting this mad in the last 10 years and she’s lucky all I did was slap her behind. Then I used my other hand to push her butt past the buffalo and inside the house where she ran head first into her water bowl exploding it EVERYWHERE. So I screamed at her to get into her kennel and beat the shit out of her with her newspaper which I knew wouldn’t actually hurt her. But to be honest I was in a rage and was taking it out on her. Even though she wasn’t physically hurt, I feel like a monster. I’ve been crying about it. I don’t know why all this made me this angry. 

Now I gotta practice being more patient with her and try to train her better because she hardly listens as it is when she gets too excited. 

And now because of my mini breakdown, I feel like shit about everything. I’ve been a weak pathetic fuck today putting work off until tomorrow. I didn’t even do my workout because my stomach is still weird from yesterday. I feel like shit in every way. I feel horrible I can’t be as good of a friend as I want. I feel undeserving of everything I have because of how fucking broken I can be sometimes. God.

There’s so much to do all the time and there is no way I can ever do it all. I feel like a failure for it. If I could just bust my ass like I’m supposed to then maybe I could get most of it done. But I’m weak. 

Now what? Do I try to relax and recuperate myself? Or push through the pain and do everything anyways? I already know it never makes me feel good having all those things done because it sets a standard for how good I should be that I’ll keep having to uphold until I die. There is never a break. Based on pure experience I should try to take it easy for a bit. Brute forcing myself to be better isn’t sustainable and I know it. I’ve learned it. 

3:59 PM

I feel ugly right now, inside and out. Literally unattractive in every way. 

11:16 PM

I don’t wanna make promises to myself but tomorrow I hope to pick myself up and get everything done. It’s Friday after all, I’ll have a weekend right after. The “work” day should be easy and other than that it’s just my workout and some cleaning. I can do it. 

11:54 PM

Please let me be strong tomorrow. Today I was very weak and it feels shameful. I’m embarrassed. I know I’m only human but I prefer not to get like I got today. I want to be strong for myself and for my friends. I want to feel like I’m worth something. 

[mrsblackruby]

Aye if we’re talking a tumblr strike and just throwing around ideas

we could start planning a strike that I truly Believe might scare the pants off of the executives

Like we could do this shit for real I just can’t do it on my own.

If subcultures on Tumblr had a place to commune while making The demands on the previous proposal’s post the company would have more motivation to meet our demands and/or it would actually be easier to force their hands.

okay so my first thought 💡 is there’s this decentralized site called mastodon (I don’t mind Elaborating more on the inner workings of this website but For now that’s not the focus of this Reblog) And mastodon truly works in weird ways but it’s content and moderation and filtering  is pretty good.  it gets the job done and it’s decentralized.  people can help fund it with donations. and it’s not exactly like tumblr at all but I think it will be able to help sustain Communities On Tumblr for a long time. And from my experience a lot of the staff on the website is very good about listening to the communities they are catering to (Which Tumblr has been getting very bad at recently). And that active moderation trend on mastodon might continue for as long as a hypothetical strike  might need it to. we obviously won’t convince everyone to join but if we tried we could convince enough people (community being the focus) to join it. And schedule a Reasonable time and date for people to stop posting on Tumblr indefinitely or until demands start getting meet.

All I’m saying is a possible route organizers have for a hypothetical Tumblr Black out to go down is if they Started to try to convince different subcultures on Tumblr to start moderation on mastodon as we protest off tumblr in the future at some point. 

And if people set up content moderation and got help from others reaching out to different people in their communities to try to convince them to make the switch we might be able to force the corporation’s hand.

I’m just saying we might be able to get some shit poppin here fr.

Now I’m willing to admit maybe that’s not a good idea at all but it’s an idea. The real things gonna take time. If y’all ever want to take a chance on it. y’all know my account 💀

I’m definitely not shy as I should be about reaching out to strangers online



I’m not saying mastodon is this perfect site but I’m saying it could be a great tool in achieving the goals this proposed blackout is trying to achieve. And could easily address a lot of the worries I see people have about the proposed blackout. But that’s just a thought! No Bad will y’all. I’m a dumbass. And I need to go to sleep!

Staff plez do not shadowban me I post on here a lot 😭

@transmascanine @friendofthecrows

Regarding the Tumblr strike‼️:

Remember that effective general strikes do not happen with only 2 weeks notice, this shit needs to be properly planned and what we’re doing is not properly planned.

This should not be an INDEFINITE strike because most aren’t prepared enough/capable of an indefinite strike with the timeline we’ve been given.

We should keep it to 48 hours just this time. I know effective strikes do not have a time limit but this strike is too poorly planned that it won’t be effective either way because no one has had the time to actually set shit up to afford leaving tumblr indefinitely.

I think a strike SHOULD HAPPEN, but we need to do it WAY BETTER next time.

This time is worth a try but should not be indefinite-leave committed to because of how unprepared most of us are.

[mmiscbutterflies]

personal headcanons for acotar:

• elain at some point cuts her hair. like super short. like buzzed

• when azriel and gwyn first get together, he starts talking so much to her that he loses his voice periodically. everyone thinks it’s hilarious, except gwyn thinks his raspy voice is sexy as hell

• nessian have an inside joke that no one knows what it is but every once in a while cassian will point to something and nesta laughs so hard she has to sit down

• cassian is a dog mom. i’m talking dog stroller, little rain hat and boots, family photo shoots dog mom

• gwyn is a cheek kisser. everyone. all the time. good idea? cheek kiss. saying hi/bye? cheek kiss. happy to see you? cheek kiss. cheek kiss? cheek kiss.

• feyre would absolutely obliterate everyone in bumper cars. i don’t have any evidence it’s just vibes.

• helion, lucien, elain, emerie and tamlin are left handed

• nyx has a lisp until he’s like 9 that’s adorable. when he’s older and he gets upset or excited sometimes it slips back out a bit.

• at some point there’s elain on a balcony and lucien in the garden below having a romantic moment a la romeo and juliet but with less death and more yearning

• azriel is a blanket hog

• mor is scared of heights. don’t tell anyone.

• eris is good at drawing. like sketching and doodles. everyone thinks he take meticulous notes in every court meeting when he’s actually just filling up pages and pages of doodles. he thinks it’s a secret but his mother has a box somewhere where she holds on to some of his sketches. she looks at them when she’s having a bad day.

• rhys never has matching socks. he likes the idea of having some part of him (that no one can see) that’s not perfectly put together

• kallias and viviane have a boy around the same time as nyx is born, and the two babies grow up to be best friends, which means that night and winter remain the closest of all allies bc no one is willing to sacrifice these kid’s friendship after they’ve all sustained such loss for such a long time

• LoA mercs beron. i don’t know the how, when, or where, but it’s mega badass and becomes one of the legends told to future generations of autumn court females to remind them that if the LoA won’t tolerate abuse, neither should they

• tarquin had a stutter before he became high lord that he works so hard to control bc it’s hard enough being the youngest, newest high lord, and he doesn’t need one more thing to make others think less of him

• tamlin doesn’t know how to braid hair

• nyx’s favorite family member is amren, and no one (including her) knows why.

• gwyn and emerie get some kind of traditional illyrian tattoo marking them as carynthians and it pisses the illyrians off to no end. it was rhys’ idea.

[oo-hazel-oo]

tw: gun violence (this is a long and detailed discussion of gun violence, so please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable!)

i don’t normally talk about this kind of stuff on here, but i’m frustrated and sad and am hoping that some people who read this will find it helpful. if you don’t have time to read, then feel free to skip to the last three paragraphs which contain the big takeaways from all this.

i grew up in a city that many people refer to as the “murder capital” of the united states and that has one of the highest rates of gun-related homicides in the entire country. i heard my first gunshot when i moved to the midwest at age 10 and i couldn’t tell you how many i’ve heard since then.

during the first few years of high school, we had annual 'intruder' drills, where we'd turn off the lights, close the blinds, and huddle in a corner until the teachers told us we could stop. after the parkland shooting in 2018, they started calling them 'active shooter' drills and we had them twice as often. our teachers stopped telling us to hide in a corner of the classroom and instead encouraged us to break the windows and run, do anything in our power to save ourselves if something ever happened.

over the years, there were a few public safety scares that caused our building to be locked down, but i found that the majority of the gun violence that affected our school manifested in ways that i wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. i had a classmate come to school with an untreated gunshot wound. i would see my friends wearing handmade shirts featuring the collaged images of relatives who’d fallen victim to gun violence. even since graduating, three former classmates have passed away after being caught in the crossfire of our country's gun epidemic. there were no drills or prep courses to teach us how to deal with the effects of that.

one the most horrible encounters with gun violence that i have personally experienced happened when i was sixteen. i was attending a neighborhood memorial for a five year old boy who had gotten ahold of his parents’ gun and sadly sustained an accidental and fatal gunshot wound. halfway through the memorial service, which was taking place in a local park, we heard gunshots come from down the street and everyone had to leave behind their candles, flowers, and teddy bears to sprint to safety. the gun violence in my neighborhood had gotten so bad, that we weren’t even able to mourn its victims anymore.

i’m bringing this all up because earlier today, i was scrolling through instagram and was surprised to see my city on a CNN headline. there had been a school shooting at the high school a few blocks away from my old house and it had left 3 people dead and at least 6 people seriously injured. hearing the news broke my heart.

i am currently living in the u.k. and it’s hard to describe to my european friends, most of whom have never been directly impacted by gun violence, why i jump when a heavy dumpster lid is slammed shut, or why i feel the need to sprint if i see a crowd of people running. my friends here will sometimes joke about the u.s. being full of gun-toting, trigger-happy texans, but that is just one caricature of our gun violence epidemic and does not capture the diverse experiences that so many of us have grown up with (and a psa to those who have never been impacted by gun violence — please try to avoid throwaway comments like the one above — gun violence is not a joke).

all this being said, to anyone who has read the news today and is impacted by what’s going on, please take care of yourself and your community. it’s okay to log off if you need to <3

and to all of those who want to channel their frustration into action, remember that the november 8th midterm elections are coming up and this is sadly one of the ONLY ways we can work to prevent further tragedy and fight for better gun control legislation in the u.s. if you’re american, register to vote. if you are an american and won’t be in town on election day or are living abroad, YOU CAN STILL VOTE. and registering is just half the job. make sure you head to your polling place on election day to honor that commitment. research your candidates, check which organizations they give their money to, and which give money to them. there are so many NRA-backed candidates that need to be voted out! keep an eye out for endorsements from people/groups doing the good work. send letters to your local, state, and national representatives. protest. share your own experiences. be there for those who are most impacted (these are ways everyone can help, not just americans!!)

obviously gun violence is not the only issue that is important for the upcoming election, but it’s the one that’s hurting me, my friends, and family the most today.

[lady-divine-writes]

Our Flag Means Death - “Courage to the Sticking Place” (Rated PG13)

Summary: After Stede gets pinned to the mast by Izzy's sword, Blackbeard takes him down and tends to his wounds. And while he does, he reflects on a few recent emotional wounds of his own. (2239 words)

Notes: The scene where Izzy and Stede duel has been stuck in my mind since I saw it, but most especially Blackbeard's reaction during the whole thing. That's where this sprang up from. Warning for mention of injuries sustained during a duel.

Read on AO3.

"Lucius! Fetch me a pair of shears!"

"Like pinking shears? Or were you thinking of something bigger?" Lucius asks, strolling over nonchalantly, to Edward's dismay. He'd think having his captain skewered to a mast would warrant a sense of urgency. 

Apparently not.

"Big fucking shears! The kind that can cut through bone! Wait..." Ed glares at Lucius's bandaged hand. "Didn't you have...?"

Lucius shakes his head, brow furrowing as he tries to figure out what Ed means. Then his face brightens. "Oh yeah! Silly me. I know what you need. Just a mo. Be right back." He pats Ed on the shoulder as he passes, as if they're friends. The liberties Stede's crew takes with regard to him, the infamous Blackbeard, astounds him. They barely seem scared of him anymore. They treat him like one of the guys.

Actually - they treat him like they treat Stede.

Perhaps he's losing his touch. If that's true, Blackbeard has no one to blame but himself.

But, if he's being honest, he's not mad about it.

"Are you proud of me?" Stede manages in a breathless voice as Ed investigates the sword that has him pinned.

"Hell yeah, you lunatic," Ed says, glancing over his shoulder every thirty seconds, wondering what's taking that blasted boy so long. "Real fucking proud."

"Am I going to die?"

"Not on my watch."

"Here." Lucius thrusts a pair of shears, almost as long as Izzy's sword, between the two men, the tip barely missing Ed's face.

"Sure did take you long enough," Ed mumbles, grabbing the shears and cutting at the blade as close to Stede's torso as possible.

"You're welcome," Lucius scoffs, but mildly. He is genuinely happy things turned out the way they did. Stede won the duel, Blackbeard is coming around, and that asshat Dizzy Izzy has been bansihed. 

Time to grab Black Pete and head down below for a proper celebration.

"It's all right," Ed mutters, working at the blade slowly. He doesn't want to exacerbate the wound, turn a molehill into a mountain. "You're all right. We're gonna fix you up. Don't you worry."

Stede, sweating like a hen in a fox's den, struggles to nod. "We have...to stop...meeting like this."

Ed snorts, holding back tears. "I'm good with that."

For a narrow piece of steel, it takes forever for Ed to cut through Izzy's blade. Stede tries his best to stay cheery and keep up conversation, but eventually, he runs out of steam. By the time Ed is halfway through, he's ready to rip the sword out of the mast with his bare hands, finest cherrywood in Brazil notwithstanding.

The sun shows its face over the horizon, and Ed snaps the blade in two. He slides Stede off it, catching the man before he collapses to the deck.

"All right, mate. Time to get you down below and have a look at you."

"What do we do with Izzy?" Frenchie asks, stopping Ed before he takes a step. "He won't leave."

"Yeah," Buttons says. "He refuses to banish."

Ed had been so focused on Stede that he had forgotten about Izzy. Fine by him. He wants to forget the man ever existed. "If he doesn't leave, tie him up and throw him over the side for all I care."

Frenchie shrugs. "Sounds like a plan."

"Blackbeard!" Izzy bellows. "You can't be serious!"

"Sounded like it to me, mate," Wee John interjects. "Grab his legs."

"Damn you, Edward! You are going to rue this day! Rue it hard!" 

Edward hears Izzy scream for him, cursing his name, his father's name, anyone he's ever known, as he ushers Stede downstairs, but he doesn't look back. He's done with Izzy. He should have been done with him days ago.

Then he wouldn't have Stede's blood on his hands.

Ed rushes Stede to his quarters and sits him down on his bed. He pulls aside the covers, gaze darting away from the fading bloodstain of Stede's last encounter with steel.

Stede hisses as Ed helps him get his feet up on the mattress. "I...I was a coward." 

"Shut up. No, you weren't. You took Izzy's sword valiantly. The bastard."

Stede gulps hard against the pain scorching his midsection. "I'm not talking about the fight. I'm talking about my family. I ran away during the night and left a note behind. I fled when I should have led. And it wasn't the only time."

"You did what was right by you. No one can blame you for that." Ed strips Stede of his clothes to get to the wound. He resorts to cutting the shirt off Stede's torso so the man won't need to raise his arms.

Ed tries not to let it affect him when he does.

"Yes, they can," Stede argues. "I blame me. I'm sure my family does, too. I'm a father. And a husband. I should have done better."

"I'm sure you did your best."

"Let me assure you, I did not."

"Agree to disagree." Ed starts cleaning the wound, drenching the corner of a spare sheet in alcohol and applying pressure. Stede moans in agony.

Ed tries not to let that affect him, either.

"I'm...I'm broken, Ed."

"You're not broken."

Stede barks a laugh, grimacing at the ache roaring through his body. "I quite literally have a hole in me."

"We'll fix that. No worries."

Ed burns with anger at Izzy. There was no need for this. They could have worked things out another way. But he's angrier at himself for allowing this. He'd told Izzy this was his mess, that he'd deal with it. But he only made it worse. He put Stede in this position, then didn't jump on the blade for him. 

He didn't even have the balls to watch Stede get run through.

Stede is his friend. He should have witnessed him. That's what a true mate would have done. When Ed thought the end was near for Stede, he turned away, turned his back on him.

That's unforgivable in Ed's book.

But he has to push that aside and focus on the here and now.

There would be time for self-serving pity later on.

If the hurt were his, he'd bind it tight and go about his business. But this is the second time Stede has sustained a wound like this. He may fancy himself a pirate, but he's a gentleman first.

He doesn't deserve to be full of holes.

Ed rummages through Stede's things, searching for a needle and thread. A man who is as much of a clothes horse as Stede claims to be has to have a sewing kit. Ed rifles through official-looking papers and bulging billfolds, which would have excited the shit out of Blackbeard, but Edward ignores them.

In Stede's bottom drawer, Ed finds what he's looking for: a polished wooden box with a silver clasp, housing the most elegant pairs of shears and ornate thimbles Ed has ever seen; a plethora of needles; and something that looks like catgut.

Perfect.

He carries the kit over to Stede's bed and sets it down at the foot. 

"Take this," Ed shoves a bottle into Stede's hand, "and keep drinking. When you're done with that, we'll get you another."

"And when do I stop?" Stede asks, lifting the bottle shakily to his lips.

"When you pass out."

As it's not a mortal wound, Ed waits till Stede is a bit more intoxicated before he goes to work. It takes longer than Ed gave him credit for, Stede downing another bottle before his eyelids flutter shut, his mouth goes slack, and the bottle in his hand rolls out of his grasp and onto the floor.

Though a man who switches out barrels of gunpowder for marmalade probably has a ship store filled with watered-down whiskey and is none the wiser.

It takes Ed far more time to sew up Stede's wound than it did to cut through Izzy's blade. He tries to keep the stitches small and even in the hopes it will fade into a silvery scar and not one of the jagged disasters vandalizing Ed's flesh. But maybe Stede would have appreciated a grotesque scar. It would have been a trophy he could have bragged about - his triumph over Izzy Hands.

But Ed is being selfish. 

He couldn't look at it, doesn't want Stede to have it.

It would be a constant reminder of Edward's failure.

But when would Ed see it?

That's the thought that has Edward swallowing hard, his heart speeding in his chest.

Ed nabs a finger full of honey off the tea service at Stede's bedside and runs it along the stitches before he covers them with muslin. The finished product isn't as neat as he would have liked, but it'll do the job. 

When he's done, Ed gathers his tools and puts them away, intent on leaving Stede to rest; go back above deck and give the crew a status report. Instead, he sits down on the edge of Stede's bed and watches him.

Stede is right - they have to stop meeting like this.

But Stede is a pirate now, and pirates get hurt. Which means patching Stede up and sitting vigil by his bedside may become a habit for Ed.

How did I get here? Ed thinks. When did my life become this? He'd longed for a change, for a way out of the dulrdums, but was this really it? Playing nursemaid to the most inept pirate known to man and babysitter to his crew?

Except Stede is not as inept as everyone thought. Neither are the men who follow him. They're nothing if not loyal. 

In the end, that's all a good crew need be.

If Stede lives long enough, he could become one of the greats, more infamous than Blackbeard for his shtick alone. It tickles Ed's head envisioning the veteran brigands who'd flip their lids to be conquered by a pirate dressed in brocade frocks, who manned a ship filled to the brim with books, marmalade, and summer linens.

Edward finds a clean corner of the spare sheet, and wipes Stede's brow. He looks vastly more comfortable than he had: his breathing steady, his brow smooth in sleep.

Three bottles of liquor will do that to you, and thank the Lord for that.

"You're lucky," Ed says to Stede's sleeping face. "This wound - it's not going to kill you. But you've got to get better at defending yourself and your crew. You've got to live longer. You've got to survive."

Ed sighs deeply. Can you do that? Can you survive for me?

Ed can't answer that. The only person who can answer that is Stede, and Ed doesn't have the courage to ask him.

Since Stede is drunk and asleep and unlikely to remember anything, Ed takes a few liberties of his own, leaning over and kissing the bandage that covers Stede's wound. 

For luck, of course. Nothing more.

Then he kisses Stede's forehead.

The bridge of his nose.

And his mouth, blessedly warm.

But Stede isn't as unconscious as Edward would have hoped. 

He shudders, either from the lingering shadow of pain or Ed's touch. Ed doesn't know. But Stede's teeth start chattering, and Ed fears fever may be setting in. Possibly shock. He expects Stede to call out for Mary in his delirium the way he had before. But Stede has changed during his short time away. And so, apparently, have his priorities.

"E-e-ed? Edward, are you there?"

"It's all right." Ed can't think of anything else to say, so he sticks with the classic, mainly because he has started reassuring himself as much as Stede. "You're going to be all right." He peels off his jacket, toes off his boots, and climbs under Stede's thick quilts. He wraps a careful arm around him and scoots closer. He needs to feel the rise and fall of Stede's chest, his heart tapping a rhythm against his arm - the subtle indicators that he's still alive. Still kicking. Ed closes his eyes, falling asleep to the symphony of Stede's body, letting him know that, from here on out, everything will be all right.

***

"A fucking pox on all of you!"

Edward opens his eyes.

The sky is blue and cloudless, the water surrounding them a slate sort of grey. Izzy drops onto the bench in his boat, takes up the oars, and rows angrily away. Behind him, Ed hears Stede talking to Lucius, asking for help getting down from the mast. Inside his chest, something akin to thorny vines wraps around his heart and pulls.

A coward.

That's what Edward is.

That's what he's been since he boarded Stede's ship.

Because if he'd been a better man, he would turn around, help Stede down, and turn his fantasy into a reality.

But he can't.

He'll tell himself later that he doesn't because Stede deserves better, but that's a load of horseshit.

He doesn't because he's scared of rejection.

Edward doesn't see Stede get off the mast. He barks a few orders to Fang and the rest of the crew on the best way to go about it. But after he deals with Izzy, he turns tail and goes below deck.

Edward doesn't deserve to be in Stede's presence right now, doesn't deserve to share a bottle with him and toast his victory.

Not when he's a fucking coward.

[felassanis]

A Love That Won’t See Tomorrow - Eddie Munson x F!Reader

As you and Eddie prepare for the battle in your trailer. You both come to the realisation that this could be your last night alive. Despite the little time you’ve known each other, you both know that if this is the only night you get. You are going to spend it together.

Warnings: Explicit content. Swearing. Smut.

Read on AO3!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40655103

--------------------------------

There’s unease in the air as Eddie and you busy yourselves alone in your trailer. Preparing for what was about to be the battle for your lives, for everyone’s lives, against Vecna and the Upside Down.

Usually you’d give anything for a moment alone with him. But tonight…it is anything but peaceful.

You tear open your cupboards with little care for the hinges. Ransacking the contents for your first aid kit that you could not remember where you left. You didn’t know what kind of injuries any of you might sustain while in the Upside Down. Or even if a crappy little aid kit would be of any use. You just had to find it. To put your mind on anything else.

The Upside Down. A ghost of a shiver runs down your spine as you are pulled back to the brink of that chilling place. The stench of dust, death, and smog trickled in as if the effects of the dimension had slipped in. A sweeping cold making claim to the room.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever shake the feeling that you could be pulled there at any moment. Your innocence was forever gone the moment you laid eyes on the Demogorgon. There wasn’t any reclaiming it now, or indeed reclaiming any semblance of a normal life free of the mental scars. But at least you could save everyone. That was all that really mattered in the end.

In the grand schemes of things, your trauma, your pain, your very life, didn’t amount to much. Scared shitless as you were, all that mattered was stopping Vecna. Even if it cost you. And there was little comfort in that. You just wanted to go home, crawl under your bed covers and pretend none of this was happening. But you couldn’t…

You hand grabs at another knob of another cupboard and you nearly rag it off the wall of the trailer. Eddie squeals and jumps at the crashing noise followed by the cupboard door hanging loosely in your hand. Staring wide eyed like you had just burst into flames.

“You uh…you know, I’m sure the cupboard had it coming,”

Tossing it to the floor. You strain your fingers through your hair slowly. Feeling embarrassed by your display as your hands come over your eyes.

“Sorry, Eddie I just….” You let out a sigh as you bring yourself over to the couch quickly. Eddie watching you flee across the room.

The room was starting to spin like a whirlpool. You needed to sit down before you fell down.

“ Shit… ” You hunch over, head in hands as your breathing betrays you. “ Shit… ”

Your stream of curses come more rapidly, spiralling past your lips like spilt soda as you try to contain your fear. Everything was just so fucked. So unbelievably fucked and it was taking every ounce of your strength not to lose your mind.

How the hell were you supposed to accomplish this? You were all just kids way over your heads!

“Hey, hey, hey!” Eddie flies to your side. His hand aims for your shoulders but hangs midair instead. As if he wasn’t sure touching you was the best option. “You’re gonna kill yourself way before the Upisde Down ever gets a chance if you keep thinking about it, alright?”

His smile offers you sympathy, tinged with the mutual fear you are both experiencing

Until it is pulled into a painful thin line over your dumbfounded expression.Wondering in what world that was supposed to make you feel better.

“I just mean, well. Pretty embarrassing thing to have plastered on your headstone,” He attempts to rectify, to make you laugh. Likely praying in his head that you’ll laugh and free him of further pain. “Or you know, there won’t be a headstone at all. You’ve got way more experience with this than me. I just got here and I’m nose diving into Mordor,”

You feign a smile. “You know I have no idea what Mordor is, right?”

“You’re a real Eowyn, no way you're going out like a sucker,” He says as if that translated it.

His smile returns in a lopsided fashion. It's forced, so forced, but you can’t help but be affected by it. It’s a very contagious thing, Eddie Munson’s smile. And so you return his smile, reaching out with an invisible hand to comfort him like he is trying with you.

“Still no idea, Munson,”

“Simply put, she’s a badass,”

“Pfft, I don’t feel like a badass,”

He bumps into your shoulder lightly. “Love to break it to ya sweetheart, but you’re a badass. I know, terrible burden,” His hands shape into a square. “Can picture it now. Hair flying in the wind, me propped over your shoulder, explosions going off in the background. And Vecna’s fat fucking head in your hand,”

You roll your eyes. “That’s ridiculous,”

“Take a look around, girl. All of this shit is ridiculous. Guarantee that’s the most realistic shit any of us could come up with,” Eddie then wiggles his brow. “Especially the part about me propped over your shoulder like a damsel in goddamn distress,”

Against all odds, you start to feel calm again. You laugh, nudging him with your elbow playfully. The air in the room becomes less tight, and you realise Eddie has braved to put his hand on your shoulde. Silver rings pressing against your shoulder blade.

Or was it so odd? That Eddie could pluck the weight of fear off you like a stray hair?

In the weeks since finding Eddie at Reefer Rick’s the two of you had grown closer. Once, he was nothing but a friendly face in the school hallway. All that ever passed between you were lingering looks and soft smiles on the way to class.

Now? Now the times when you didn’t know him well feel like a distant memory.

He had an effect on you, as Steve loved to point out. You couldn’t put a label on what was between you. Hell, you didn’t really want to. It didn’t need a title to be what you both needed. There was something. Nothing certain, nothing clear. But it was unwavering. Felt strongly despite the short time you had spent together.

He became someone important to you. Both of you shaped and moulded against one another by the events of the past week. Clinging to the bond that felt like the only anchor to your sanity.

You couldn't imagine doing this without him.

After a moment, Eddie looks at you adoringly.

“It’ll be alright,” He then says. Rubbing your arm up and down.

You try not to shiver against his touch.  Mustering an unconvinced look. “You know that for sure, huh?”

“No, but…” He tilts his head, grimacing ever slightly. “But we gotta say that, right? Gotta believe that. No use telling ourselves it will go to shit. Otherwise we’ll just…run,” His rubbing stops, fingers squeezing your shoulder lightly, his voice just above a whisper.

“And��I’m not running this time,”

You smile. Wishing more than ever you could get rid of his regret the same way he could save you from your fear. Wondering if he’d ever let it go, forgive himself for running. It kills you seeing him like that.

Wanting to distract him before he could lose himself in a moment of regret. You lean against him on the couch. Resting your head against his shoulder. The edges of his brown curls tickling against your cheek as you rest against his warm body.

Grappled by a sudden hesitation, Eddie doesn’t seem to know how to react at first. You feel his hands sway helplessly in the air behind you. Before they wrap slowly around your back. Slowly but surely, he seems to relax. His head falling atop of yours as he takes a deep breath.

You realise then how exhausted you both are. Unaware of how long it had been since you last slept. And how easily you slip into a state of safety with each other. You wanted nothing more to stay like this forever. Alone with Eddie in this crappy old trailer. Clinging to each other’s comfort like sustenance.

“We’ll be alright,” He says again. Lips pressed against your head. Though who he is talking to, you can’t be sure.

You start to play with his rings, pulling his hand into your lap as you trace your fingers over the skulls and boar heads. Feeling every detail and denture in them while ghosting your touch intentionally across his knuckles. You feel his head shift to look down, watching you quietly.

The world outside the trailer is awash in the pinks and oranges of drawing dusk. Spilling into the sky like a watercolour painting. It bathes Eddie in golden, beautiful light. Turning his brown hair brighter around the edges as if he was made of sunlight.

You want to believe Eddie’s words, truly. But nothing could be certain. You could save the world, come back as heroes. Or you could all die before stepping anywhere near Vecna. Just a bunch of kids way over their heads…

“Hey,” His voice is hushed, drowsy and tired. He lifts himself slowly off you. Both of you feel the weight of your exhaustion on your limbs yet he brings his other hand to hold your chin, making you look up at him.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t have to. The silent doom hanging above you is prevalent.  Even in this moment of absolute serenity. You could both die tonight.

What little distance had remained is sealed by Eddie pressing his lips against yours.

It’s nothing like what they have you believe in the movies. There’s no fake affection in the way he holds the side of your neck. The slight cold of his thumb ring stroking across your jaw. It holds a realness, a promise of the primal desire embedded in all humans. He’s not interested in looking good. Or mimic the way the actors have done it a million times on the screen. He just needs to hold you. Let you know he is here and alive.

You can both be alive together right now for what could be your last moment. And you have every intention of doing so.

Your fingers slide up Eddie’s chest, curling into the collar of his battle vest before you pull.

Standing with you awkwardly Eddie is intent on his lips not once breaking away from you. As if afraid you’d fade the second he wasn’t touching you. His hands roam your back, arching into you to make up for his height. Tongue licking at your bottom lip to open up. He smells and tastes of cigarettes. A tinge of old book paper and sweat.

The way you backup through the trailer is messy. Just as the kiss is messy. He sighs into your mouth, keening and groaning at your fingers pulling at his curls as you urge him along with you down the trailer. The two of you bump into open cupboards and fall against tables on your way. Knocking over things while nearly tripping on bottles and clothes that litter the ground. Yet you don’t have a care in the world except the taste of his tongue, and the flashes of images of what was about to happen.

“What the hell are we doing?” You say in quiet agony against his hot lips.

“You want to stop?” Eddie pulls away for a split second, just as the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. Your heart falls along with you. The split second of concern etched across his face has you scrambling at him to lay down with you. No one's ever looked at you like that before.

“Don’t you dare,”

He grins, lowering himself as you start pulling him down by his clothes.

“The others will be gone for a while yet…ah…” You moan as Eddie settles between your legs quickly. Rocking his hips against yours as he gathers your lips again. One hand gripping at the bedsheets next to your head as you roll your hips up against his. Feeling everything press up against your core.

He does not need any more convincing. Hands roam your body frantically, searching for the first button he can undo. Or rip off. Meaning your shirt is off quicker than you expected, and you grow giddy at his eagerness. Taking your turn to roam his lithe body, you press the flat of your palm against his stomach, feeling it flex as your fingers delve lower and lower.

He gasps into your mouth, hips jerking forward as you cup him through his jeans.

“Shit,” the curse is hot against your lips.

You are somewhat aware of the others, and that they could come back at any moment. But you didn’t care.

You needed this. You needed to feel something. You needed to feel something with him. You needed to be a teenager messing around with another teenager. You needed Eddie and he needed you. To act upon what has developed between you. When words just aren’t enough. And come the time when you must fight? You’ll carry this memory with you. And fight for something to return home to.

If you were lucky. You could explore this when you survived. If not, all you had was right now.

You lean upwards, pushing him up as you help him shrug off his battle vest. Which proves to be difficult as his forceful lips hinder your concentration. Once managed, your fingers slip under the hem of his infamous Hellfire shirt, and your hands dive under. Scratching your fingers up along his happy trail, feeling him shiver under your touch, until you reach back and bring the shirt over his head.

Or try to. Eddie was reluctant to break the kiss. Like trying to take a kid’s candy off him.

“Eddie,” You say against his fervent lips. And when he doesn’t relent, seemingly emboldened by the taste of his name on your tongue, your hand reaches down to his jeans once again. His gasp freeing you from his relentlessness for a moment to bring his shirt up.

“Dirty tactics,” He chuckles breathlessly as he raises his arms.

You stop in your tracks once the shirt is off over his head. Looking at Eddie. His curls fluffed up. His lips swollen and red. The biggest brown eyes staring back at you like you were made of sunlight. He’s beautiful, and that hits you like a revelation. You never thought a man could be beautiful. Handsome yes, strong also. And he indeed was both of those things but he was also so beautiful.

You reach out to cup both his cheeks. The sense of urgency between you dissipates for a moment as you cradle his features. Taking him in like art.

“Whatcha doing?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper as he stares at you curiously. Clearly taken aback at the sudden slowing down of your actions. If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. Letting you fondle with his face as you please while leaning into your touch as soon as your thumbs brush against his cheekbones.

“Looking at you,”

“I can see that,”

“I mean really look at you,” You clarify, eyes scanning the way his hair curls around his forehead. You want to commit every inch of him to memory, in case the option can no longer be afforded soon.

“Like what you see?” He grins, leaning in to peck your lips.

“You’re beautiful, Eddie,” You say honestly.

Eddie blinks. And for a moment you think you’ve broken his brain. Until passion is breathed back into life as Eddie’s hands start unbuckling your belt clumsily. Kissing you once, twice, three times.

“C’mere,” He says into your kiss. Pulling you into his body with your belt before shrugging your trousers down past your waist.

Layers upon layers are stripped off in haste. The two of you want to take your time, cherish each stretch of skin and elicit every reaction possible. But neither of you had the time.

Eddie’s bare chest presses against yours as he nuzzles your neck. You bring your hands to drag down his back, legs hooked around his naked waist as he drives into you. Pushing you further into the bed with every thrust. With reckless abandon you shout and curse next to his ear, trying to find the words to call out his name but unable to find enough air in your lungs.

You didn’t know how you were going to explain the bruises peppering into your skin by Eddie’s mouth. Or how he would explain his own. So you carded needy fingers through his hair, and angled your neck better for him as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. Setting your skin on fire with every lick. The spark between your legs ignitng at every hoarse ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ spilling from his mouth. Knowing you were the cause for such erotic sounds made you proud and eager to make more come out of him.

He pulls himself off you. Out of breath he looks down at you, hips still rolling against yours with his mouth hanging open. He takes in the sight of you below him, writhing against him, and he seems like he’s in a daydream. Hair curtaining your peripheral like a veil. And you become mesmerised with the slapping of skin and his dumbfounded expression. He’s trying his best to hold out, waiting for you to finish first. BUt you can tell it’s a battle he is losing.

“Shit,” He breathes out, and you laugh wonderfully at the sound. Arching your back just as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. “You’re fuckin’ amazing,”

“No, you’re fucking amazing,” Your thighs squeeze around him as you pull him in further to emphaise your point. Urging Eddie to fuck you in a rapid, urgent rhythm that has you seeing stars.

Spurred by your words Eddie’s movements somehow get harder and more sporadic. He dives forward and catches your lips, his cock filling you completely as he fucks you silly. You climax building and building by the second. The smell of Eddie and sex is clouding your senses and your shared moaning fills the air like thunder.

Your climax bursts when his fingers dig into your waist, tensing your muscles and pulling a sweet cry from your throat as you cling to Eddie tightly. Upon finally pushing you over, Eddie grabs the back of your head, and his hips snap against yours until they lose their rhythm. He calls out your name, a sweet sensation across your lips as he comes. Riding it out with a few final thrusts until he stills inside of you.

You feel him go limp against you. And your content to just simply lay there with him on top of you catching your breath.

He mumbles something into your skin.

“What was that?”

He props himself up. Nose but a hair's width from yours. That doe-eyed look is suddenly gone, replaced by a melancholy frown that has your heart aching.

“You better come back to me. Promise me you’ll come back to me,”

Your face falters at his request. It was a selfish request, and he likely knew that. And didn’t care.

You think you might love him in that moment. Amidst the aftermath of messy, desperate sex; and it terrifies you. Of all the worst times to fall hard, it had to be now. You play with his hair as he looks into your soul. Silently wondering if the world could wait but a moment. If the danger would relent for the two young lovers unsure if their love would live to see the sun.

But you know it can’t. And so does Eddie.

“Eddie…”

“Humour me,” He rubs his thumb across your nose. “Just…humour me, please…”

You let out a sigh. Wondering what exactly either of you would get from trying to convince yourself the certainty of your survival.

Perhaps that wasn’t Eddie's plan though. You think of his earlier words, about believing that everything would be okay. That you had to believe it would be ok, or it would all be pointless. Maybe he wasn’t asking you to promise to come back. Just that you’d try to come back to him.

“I don’t make that promise unless you do, Eddie Munson,”

Eddie doesn’t say anything more. He holds up his hand, offering you his pinky. Which you take gladly.

“Course, sweetheart,”

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Imprint- Werewolf Bakugo x Fem! Reader Pt 1

A/N: I wrote this for @chaoticyuna and her summerween event which can be found here …this probably will be a multipart series…

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: None really this part is pretty SFW

There were always stories about your college UA. The ghosts that moaned and haunted the hallways, the skeletons they found buried deep beneath the school, the vampires that roamed openly on campus at night. None were ever as exaggerated as the tale of the werewolf that runs through the forest at night.

Of course, you didn’t believe any of this. The closest thing to ghosts or vampires were the pale-faced, sleep-deprived students you attended the school with. The fact that wolves even lived in the forest around the school seemed absurd. So when you started your first year at UA, the seniors would try to scare the freshmen.

You never gave in nor did you believe the stories. So when you decided to join a sorority, of course your initiation was to spend a night in the forest. Honestly, it was pathetic that so many gave into the stories like this. You refused to do such an act and were not accepted into the Sorority.

You tried again with another sorority that seemed to align with your ideals concerning the “supernatural” existence of beings. Your initiation was similar to the other sorority, only you had to go to the forest on a full moon and spend the whole night there. To you it wasn’t anything, you’d been camping many times with your family since you were little. One night wouldn’t hurt.

So you packed your sleeping bag, a few snacks, water, and some extra clothes. The warmth of the fall day gave false hope. You had checked the weather and made sure that it wasn’t going to be raining that night or extraordinarily cold. Everything seemed to have been perfect.

After dinner, you took your stuff and ventured off into the forest. You found a nice clearing not too long after the sun had just set, just before it became too dark to see. You set up camp, built a fire, and let your thoughts take you wherever they pleased while looking under the starry sky. You had drifted off to sleep fairly quickly.

A few hours later, you were awoken by the sound of a low growl of a wolf. The sound meant danger, and even in your half-sleeping state, you knew something was wrong. You quietly, and quickly tried to pack your things without attracting too much attention, you backed up slowly and felt yourself press up against something soft. You held your breath as you slowly turned to face a massive carmel colored wolf with red eyes. The last thought you had before everything turned cold and dark was, ‘I am going to die here, but why does he look sort of humane?’

You woke up just after the sun rose, in a cold sweat. Unsure if you dreamt of the giant wolf, or if it really happened. You argued with yourself while you packed up your things, but a feeling of uneasiness settled over you, almost as if you were being watched. You shook it off and chalked it up to your imagination. You walked back to the sorority house and reported your finding of nothing.

The next two weeks passed quickly, without much of anything happening. You were part of the Sorority, participating in house parties, thinking of charity events, and of course school. It was almost two months into school when you got a new student in your business marketing class, which was normally not a thing that happened often. When he entered the room all the girls in class stared at him. He oozed confidence and cockiness. Whispers were murmured amongst the girls.

When you looked up to see the commotion, you saw him walking toward you. Something about his stance and aura made you not want to make eye contact with him.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked you gruffly while pointing to the one directly next to you. You shook your head no, and kept your head down and gaze averted.

“I’m Katsuki Bakugo.” He told you while holding his hand out to you. You really wanted to look at him, but everything inside you screamed not to. You ignored him as best as you could, but your interaction  made the whole classroom whisper again.

“Alright, everyone settle down. Today’s assignment and your homework is to create a business model that you think would have sustainable growth in a five year model. You will be working with a partner. You have two weeks to complete this and present it to the class.” You swore you saw all the girls' eyes glued to Bakugo as the professor spoke.

“Bakugo, since you’re new to this class, I will let you pick your partner first.” The Professor said, but all the girls sat up a little straighter trying to get Bakugo’s attention. “I advise you though, that just because you are starting so late, I won’t make any excuse for you not to get your work done. You have quite a bit to catch up on.” He continued.

You saw Bakugo give a sly grin when the Professor said this. He nodded his head curtly.

“I choose Y/N as my partner for this assignment.” Bakugo spoke aloud, and you saw all the girls in the room deflate a little bit. You didn’t know Bakugo so how did he know you? You thought to yourself.  When you looked at him after he spoke, for the first time since he entered the room, something about him seemed so familiar. His eyes softened a bit as you looked at one another before he tore his eyes away from you. You felt his whole mood shift from confident to anger. You couldn’t explain it, but you knew something was off with Bakugo.

After everyone was partnered up, and you heard a few quips from the other females about how unfair it was that Bakugo picked you, the two of you were set off to work. As uncomfortable as Bakugo seemed with you, or the classroom, he had a lot of ideas for the assignment. Just before class the two of you exchanged numbers and planned to meet at the library tomorrow night.

Every other night you and Bakugo spent time at the library together until close. He always seemed very tense when around you, and you thought perhaps, it was just your personality that he didn’t like. He’d walk you to your dorm or sorority house when needed. The night before your presentation to the class, you were supposed to meet him, but he never showed up.

You walked around the school looking for him. You caught up with one of his friends Kirishima, who told you that Bakugo wasn’t feeling well. You thanked Kirishima, and gave him a message for Bakugo. You noticed that it was a full moon, and a cool fall night. You walked toward the forest where you felt most at peace. As you felt the cool crisp air biting at your cheeks, and feel your troubles melt away, you walked aimlessly.

Suddenly, you were in the darkest part of the forest, where very little moonlight filtered through the trees. You felt that uneasiness once again, and realized you were lost. Behind you, you heard a branch crack and break. Your heartbeat raced and you realized that you heard a low, warning growl from a wolf. This time you knew you weren’t dreaming.

In front of you was a snarling shadow with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen. You were shaking from adrenaline and while you should have ran away, you heard the gruffest, “Don’t Move” inside your head. So you obeyed. From above you lept a lighter colored wolf, who placed himself in front of you.

The two snarled at one another for a bit, but seemed to be communicating somehow. The sight was incredible and unbelievable. When the other wolf left without your legs gave out and you fainted once again.

When you woke you were surrounded with the feeling of warm fur, and the smell of carmel that pulled you back into sleep. You didn’t dream of anything more, but hours later you woke up in a fit, and inside your dorm. When you exited your dorm to rush to class, you were greeted by Bakugo.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?” You eyed him suspiciously, he wasn’t as tense as he normally was.

“I am fine. I’ve just had nightmares as of late.” You snapped at him.

“Alright.” He said nonchalantly. The truth was you had a million questions for him, but you knew you couldn’t ask him.

“I meant, last night, I found you passed out in front of your dorm when I was walking back from the store.” He told you. You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“You know what? I don’t need this fake sympathy from you. Let’s do this stupid presentation and then we will never have to speak again.” You shouted at him.

He fell behind you as you walked as quickly as you could to the classroom. You both gave your presentation and ignored Bakugo as best as you could for the rest of class.

After class, you were the first one out and ran straight back to your dorm. You turned off your phone and fell asleep for the rest of the day. Your dorm mates Momo, Mina, and Ochako came and went.  Mina, whom you shared a room with, asked you if you wanted to join them. You told her no, and she knew that sometimes all you needed was space, gave you a head pat and left.

When they all left you were able to sleep again and at one point you swore you heard a knock at the door, but ignored it and everyone for the rest of the day. When you turned your phone on the next day, you saw the 5 missed phone calls from Bakugo. You were angry looking at that. The long apologetic text message didn’t seem to help either, nor did the box of Flamin’ hot Cheetos, which you assumed was Mina. However, you spotted the little note scribbled on top from Bakugo, you sat down angrily on the couch in the common area between your room and the other one, and ate the chips angrily. You were determined to ignore Bakugo for as long as possible.

[dragongirl642]

I really love your writing and noticed your asks are open (i think). And, I checked your masterlist and didn't see RE8 listed as a universe you write for, so you can ignore this if you want. But, could I request Heisenberg, Donna, and Lady Dimitrescu reacting to a male dragon-shifter reader who has decided to make the character's residence their hoard, and as such, going to extreme lengths to protect them and the residence?

OOOHHH 😮😳 How did you know dragons (and by extent dragon shifters) are my favourite things in the whole wide world!!!!!

As a treat, you get all four of the Lords' reactions. 😎

For extra drama, the dragon-shifter (you) basically crash land nearby (after a loooooonnnngggg flight) and decide to take up residence in the nearest abode while you rest, and end up getting comfortable and liking the area so decide to stay.

You have a full human form, fully dragon form, and an in-between form.

Also, you have like saintly levels of patience.

Heisenberg

It takes him a minute of staring to figure out that the giant dragon in the factory, is not a hallucination, induced by either the drinking he was doing the night prior, or a trick of Mother Miranda's trying to destabilize him mentally.

However this quickly turns into a lot of yelling "what the F are you doing in my factory!" and "What the F are you!" while chucking metal at you.

You melt the more dangerous pieces and yell at him to "Cease this nonsense! You can't hurt me like this."

Heisenberg.exe has stopped working.

He's partially re-evaluating his life like...did I just get sassed by a giant lizard.

You take the initiative to tell the small angry man telekinetically chucking metal around to chill. "Listen, I'm just going to rest here a few days then leave. You leave me alone, and I won't Incinerate you."

He quickly weighs up how much he doesn't want you here vs how much it will piss Mother Miranda off if he uses the giant dragon crash landing in his factory as an excuse to do absolutely nothing for her.

He's a bit annoyed about you taking up all the room by the forges so he can't make new soldats but...

Hate for Miranda wins!

He actually uses this as an excuse in his next report and Mother Miranda comes to 'get rid of the problem herself since Heisenberg cannot'...you almost incinerated her and she checked out. (He's putting that down as one of the best days of his life).

Since he now has nothing better to do he either leans on a nearby balcony or stands on a floating gear and starts trying to get your attention.

Will ask you everything from your name and where you came from to your favourite colour and if you have a specific favourite scale on your body.

You're distrustful and annoyed at first but soon warm up to this obviously lonely man.

You get so comfortable you decide you just might never leave.

The first time you feel comfortable enough to shift back to your human form Heisenberg is like (o_o) hot person! Two for one deal, annoying Mother Miranda plus Eye Candy!!!!

Makes a joke about having you turn into your dragon form again so he can keep making excuses to Mother Miranda. Which gets you curious and you ask about her, and he explains about the cadou, the experiments, and what she did to him.

He will make a bunk for you, so he can get back to work and you can stay near the heat of the forges, (absorbing the energy from the flames speeds up recovery and/or keeps you charged at 100% so you're always ready to burn a b1tch...specifically Miranda).

You both talk about whatever while he works. Lots of late night chats. One time he accidentally doused the forges and you just blew into the chamber and they re-lit immediately. (Mechanical Heart Eyes)

Since you start considering the entire factory to be your hoard, sometimes you claim a random object as your specific favourite piece for the day, maybe one of his tools or a specific piece of scrap. If he needs to use it, you won't let him and a small argument can be had. A solution is soon found though, you can't have a conflict of interest if your favourite item is him.

When you protect him, he's super flattered and hypes you up.

Cue him on the sides cheering you on.

If you two have started dating he will definitely yell "that's my boyfriend!" and gush about you to whoever happens to be standing next to him. (Bonus points if it's any of the other Lords. Especially Miranda, she is dying!)

Definitely makes a sign saying 'Beware of Dragon' to put on the fence.

Sometimes you jump to his defence even when he's in the middle of handling the threat. He gets huffy, saying he can take care of himself. You respond by telling him you won't let anything harm what's yours and once again, Heisenberg.exe is experiencing an error.

Alcina Dimitrescu

She is absolutely dismayed and angry at the giant lizard that barged its way through the doors and took up residency in her hall. It's tracking in mud and snow, burned the curtains, and took a good chunk of the wall, (letting in the cold).

Her daughters can't handle the cold, damn you!

Tries to fight you...fails. Turns out she's not immune to incineration and loses quite a few limbs (they grow back...eventually).

When she sees you shift to your human form, she's doubly-incensed...not only did you barge into her home but your also a D I S G U S T I N G M A N T H I N G !

You shift back whenever she tries to kill you so eventually she just gives up. (According to her she's waiting for the right opportunity NOT giving up.)

Wants to kill you, calls Mother Miranda for help and well, the same thing happens if you had crashed in the factory...she checks out!

Refuses to leave the castle for any reason, she's not leaving you along with her daughters.

Resigns herself to yelling insults at you from the balcony.

You respond in kind and it slowly devolves into a competition to come up with the most creative insults.

Your dragon form radiates heat...like...a lot. (Even counteracting the cold coming through the hole in the wall, which you attempted to fix.) This of course attracts the Dimitrescu daughters to the hall (against their mother's will).

If Alcina sees you lying their in dragon from, her three hive-mind children chattering away happily with you encouraging their curiosity, (Bela is half-asleep by your side, Daniela is complimenting your claws and asking about your bone structure, while Cassandra proudly proclaims her mother's are better than yours), she partly reconsiders her stance on you being a filthy, horrible, disgusting lizard man thing to just a filthy lizard man thing.

Seriously, your filthy, take a bath.

You quite enjoy all the little luxuries that can be found in the castle and decide to stay. Alcina almost shreds her hat in exasperation.

You get more comfortable and she starts to tolerate your presence, although she will take a swipe at you if she thinks she has a chance at killing you in your human form.

Jokes on her you can partially change and still fit through the hallways.

You never told her you've claimed the castle and the Dimitrescu family as your hoard but she does notice you being oddly friendly to her and she is "suspicious!"

You've met a few vampires and have a few suggestions for a more sustainable food source (buying blood donations from villagers instead of killing them). She's skeptical but considers it.

The first time you defend her is actually against Mother Miranda...over the phone. You have sharp hearing...and you don't like what you're hearing.

She's both flattered you would defend her so, and disgusted with herself for accepting a man thing's help.

When she realises she likes having you around, she starts to rationalise to herself that you're not just any man thing, you're her dragon man thing and therefore okay.

Gets more comfortable with leaving you with her daughters. You treat them well and keep them entertained?! That's a free babysitter if ever she's seen one.

When she sees the more extreme lengths you will go to protect the castle and her family, she is impressed and flattered and a little scared, and acts like it was her idea to have you stay.

"Oh, haven't you heard, that's the Dimitrescu Dragon."

Definitely rubs it in Heisenberg's face that she has a dragon and he doesn't.

Donna Beneviento

What are you!?!?!

To protect Donna, Angie is ready to fight you or die trying!

Just kind off avoids you and sends the pollen at you to make you leave.

The only one of the four Lords most likely to actually defeat you.

When you speak though, telling her to "release (your) mind, witch, or (you'll) incinerate everything", she's surprised and scared enough to actually do so.

Asks if you'll be her friend. Angie is cussing you out.

You see how scared and lonely she is and just *adoption mode activated*.

You only need to rest a few days, why not do so on friendly terms with your host. (keep telling yourself that).

It takes a day for you to shift to human form, partially because you don't want to have your measurements taken because Donna wants to make you a giant bonnet, (You reason it's a waste of resources, you'll only be here a short while).

Jokes on you, this is your home now.

You've never hoarded dolls before, but there's a first time for everything.

You will spend most of your time in human form since your dragon form kinda scares her.

Even though she's still scared of it, Donna does find your dragon form interesting and will ask to sketch you (from a distance...no fire please).

Make various over-exaggerated poses and joke about "draw me like one of your french girls" and she will laugh, (even though she doesn't get the joke).

She makes a plush doll of you. It turns inside out to shift between human and dragon.

The first time you protect her, she's scared. The flames take her straight back to her childhood, she's crying and she hides. You shift back to human form very quickly and find her, holding her close and apologising for scaring her over and over.

Will tear a man apart in human form to avoid this (or almost human form).

She slowly works up to being comfortable in your dragon form, the first time she falls asleep against your side is a good day.

You start insisting on accompanying her to meetings and escorting her whenever she has to meet another Lord. They start talking sh1t, they get hit (or burned...you let Donna choose).

Angie cheers you on.

Salvatore Moreau

He is terrified of you when you first show up.

You basically tear your way into the mines for shelter and he is frantically plugging the entrance to his home with the enzyme to hide.

Calls for "mother" to save him and that's how you find him.

You see this small deformed fish man crying in the mine and think, "i'm not gonna ask."

You settle in the slightly larger chamber and just lie down for a rest.

He soon realises your not going to attack him and ventures out to stare at you. He just keeps staring at you for like an uncomfortably long time, peeking around a doorway.

Eventual you snap and ask him to stop staring.

He slowly comes out of hiding and starts asking the basics.

"You can talk?" "Who are you?" "Why are you here?"

Seeing no reason not to, you tiredly answer all his questions.

Hearing about your long journey has him curiously asking about the places you've been to.

He quickly figures out you must have some sort of human form since you end up on the topics of favourite foods or movies and your favourites are all distinctly human. (He's the fastest at figuring this out and the least surprised when you shift).

Terrifying (hideous) creature going through an unnerving transformation into a humanoid form...he can relate. Although he's slightly jealous of how 'normal' you look when you shift to human form.

You two have a movie night where he proudly shows of his collection. It is in the middle of him analysing the context of THAT ONE SCENE that you decide, Yes...This one is mine.

The entire reservoir and mine is your territory and if anything comes anywhere near it they will be ash in 30 seconds.

When you protect him from danger, he's shocked that someone cares enough about him to f-ing incinerate a lycan for even looking at him weirdly.

You act like its natural and eventually he starts to get used to you.

Has self doubt and questions your motives...you tell him he's worth it or that he's your jewel.

C O N F I D E N C E B O O S T

Starts talking back to the other Lords when they insult him. It's easy with you hovering menacingly behind him, veins glowing with barely contained R A G E.

One source of friction however, is the fact that he doesn't like that you keep trying to kill Mother Miranda and he will latch onto you sobbing until you agree to spare her (for now...you'll get her when he's not around).

However, the longer you two know each other, the more self-confidence he gains and the more you talk through what Mother Miranda did to him and why he deserves better, (pointing out her manipulation, analyses whether she's ever 'cared' about him, etc...), the less bothered he gets. (Give it a few years, he'll cheer you on alongside Heisenberg).

Bonus:

The second you see Mother Miranda...it is on sight. (Especially if you know what she did to the Lords).

Cue you shifting to dragon form and preparing to unleash a volley of flame, "I smell the blood of children on you."

You may be comfortable(ish) with the actions of your housemate but you have STANDARDS.

Alright 😊 Hoped you like these headcanons, jaychirps. They were really fun to write and grew quite a bit. 😅

(I feel like Moreau's a bit ooc but I don't know enough about him to dispute that claim....)

Oh and p.s. ... asks are open.

[sylvies-chen]

TS prompts are gold! Hawkami + you kept me like a secret, but i kept you like an oath

Violet knows that, as a general principle, secret relationships tend not to work long term.

She was well aware of this when decided to keep sleeping with Evan. It was a good feeling she decided to chase fully understanding the repercussions of their relationship. Something with that many unintentional consequences couldn’t possibly be sustainable. She’s not an idiot; she knows that eventually they’d hit the fork in the road where they’d either have to make their relationship public or break things off. As much as she’s enjoyed the exhilarating feeling that comes with the secrecy, knows they haven’t hit any huge snags in the road yet as an illicit affair, she knows they can’t keep doing this much longer either.

That’s why she’s surprised when Evan stops by the firehouse during shift and asks to talk with her in the briefing room. Alone.

“Do you know how bad of an idea this is? They’ll want to know why you wanted to talk to me,” she hisses at him while gesturing to the window behind which everyone at 51 is, sitting in the common room casually going about their business. The blinds are closed, thankfully, so they have all the privacy they need, but it doesn’t change the fact that people are behind that window.

“Just tell them I had a question about one of your reports,” he tells her, already pulling her in for a kiss. It’s hungry and she immediately melts under the eagerness of his lips, but she can’t bring herself to reciprocate that same energy right now. She’s too scared they’ll get caught.

“Mm, mm,” she objects wordlessly as she puts her hands on his chest and forces herself to push him away. “No, we can’t. Not here.”

“Ok,” he concedes, and immediately backs up half a step. She hates the way he’s so respectful. Part of her would prefer he be unbearable to be around, that way she could just storm off instead of her usual of wanting to kiss him every time he listens to her needs, smiles at her, abides by her boundaries.

“Thank you,” she replies with a guilty swallow. “I just… you know we can’t get caught.”

“Would it really that bad?” He asks suddenly after a sad sigh. Something in him shifts to a level of curiosity that borders on taking offence to what she said. “I mean, I know we agreed to keep this a secret but it’s been weeks since the ambo heating incident. I’ve been so careful to not show any bias towards you or Brett. What’s the problem with telling everyone we’re dating?”

“The problem,” she replies, “is that I’m not trying to get fired.”

“I told you, it’s not a—”

“Not a fireable offence,” she finishes his sentence. “Yeah, I know. But if we went public, it certainly would be a lot easier to fire us. I’d be walking on thin ice for the rest of my career. One bad move and I’m done for. Or you’re done for. Whoever they go after first.”

“They won’t come after us, Vi,” he insists. “We’ve been nothing but professional.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can damn well try. You know I’d take the blame if anything happened. I can promise you that.”

“It might not matter,” she sighs defeatedly, her arms up in surrender. “My relationship with you has already caused problems with Brett when she thought we were together. Not to mention Gallo, who flat out told me it was a terrible idea and insulted me to my face.”

“And Gallo couldn’t possibly have any ulterior motives in saying that,” he quips sarcastically, though he doesn’t seem threatened; he looks more amused than anything. His posture stays relaxed while he raises an eyebrow and there’s the slightest hint of a breezy smile on his face. He doesn’t even get toxically jealous? Jesus, how come he keeps doing all the right things?

All she can do is refocus the conversation. “This isn’t about Gallo, this is about us. Do you really think other people wouldn’t react the same?”

“Of course not, they’d be happy for us,” he replies immediately. “And I’m telling you, right here, right now: I don’t care what anyone in the CFD thinks. I’m all in, Violet. All in. Maybe they will react negatively but I know in my heart it’d be worth it. I’m taking a leap of faith. Jump with me. Please.”

Perfect things roll off his tongue one after the other but all it does is break her heart. How can she take that jump with him knowing she could lose him? What would be the impact of hitting the concrete alone? How can she move forward when staying at the fork in the road, frozen in time, is the only move that won’t hurt her? She knows it’s her own doing. Chasing that good feeling was an impulse that led to a high she’ll never forget, but they’re crashing now and she can’t stop it. She can’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes, can’t stop her mouth from spilling out daggers as she replies with the only two words she knows how to say right now.

“I can’t.”

He leaves wordlessly, her teary eyes only seeing the blurry impression of a white CFD suit leaving the briefing room. Even though she has no idea where this leaves them, she knows it’s nowhere good. As scared as she was of going public, the heartbreak she’s drowning in now is a million times worse. Maybe some secrets aren’t better left unsaid.

[moxfirefly]

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

[kaijuconfessions]

This is more of a venting thing than anything and it’s wordy and. Not worded well so I’m sorry in advance.

I’m autistic and don’t know how to talk to people, and whenever I try they fucking hate me or stop talking to me without any explanation when all I was doing was just trying to be good to them and connect and make them happy

My confession is I talk to people on here on anon because at least then I know I won’t be pushed away by them and still have a chance at befriending them. I will do this for years. I’ve followed people for years and not dm’ed or talked to them off anon because I know I’m gonna fuck up, and I’ve learned to take a “don’t come out of the hole until you’re better” approach to being autistic which is not healthy or sustainable at all. So I’ll do this for years until I feel I’m “good enough” to talk. The fucked up thing is that it basically works- like, I do improve with time in my social skills and ability to understand people.

There was a person I didn’t really talk to for years— I followed this person for close to a decade. I wouldn’t even send many anons because I really liked them and just was very scared of talking Wrong. After I think 8 years, I sent an anon where I loosened up a bit and tried communicating something and connecting. They had this weird really inconsiderate reaction where they did a vague keysmash basically laughing at my ask, and nothing else. And like. It triggered me so bad I lost all ability to understand human communication and was so disoriented about what the keysmash could mean. I was dissociating really bad and STILL I decided to send another anon apologizing and trying to explain what I meant and just.. I was so fucking heartbroken. 8 years of being so careful not to be accidentally rude to this person, 8 years trying to essentially un-autism myself (impossible) enough to fucking socialize and they just gave me the vaguest, most inconsiderate response to an ask where I already mention I’m autistic.

They’re not a bad person at all but it really truly broke my heart to be treated that way, even though I know they didn’t even know me or anything. It just felt so awful. I unfollowed them after that, which was painful as well.

:(

[star-anise]

Thank you for your reply. My ask was kind of all over the place. (I've done some dbt before with a previous therapist and it helped! But that therapist was not a good fit I'm at a new one now tho).

Random thing, you mentioned bpd I heard in my abnormal psychology class that a lot of therapists won't treat someone diagnosed with bpd??? It was the teacher who is a grad student studying to be a therapist who said it. And like. I don't understand. They sound like a very in need population who was often abused and there's a whole huge book of treatment resources written by someone with bpd. I've heard they're "hard to treat" and talked about like they're hopeless. but like why be a mental health professional if you don't like mentally ill/different people?

This is also the same professor who insisted trauma is only the few things listed under dsm ptsd definition as traumatic events.. like she said parents getting divorced isn't a traumatic event because you aren't physically in danger... that class really scared me about the mental health field because of all the awful people in it aspiring to be therapists including the teacher.

Sorry for all the asks I love the work you do on this blog

Ahahaha, what IS it about undergrad abnormal psych professors? Mine said he wouldn't touch clinical practice with a ten-foot pole, and told a story about how once a student told him she had schizophrenia, and he knew that she was lying because obviously nobody with schizophrenia could actually manage to attend university.

(It's seriously untrue. I've had both friends and clients with psychotic disorders who succeeded in university. He was being an ableist bastard. Like, I know psych students can tend to over-identify with a disorder they're studying without actually having it, but that doesn't mean no psych student is ever entirely correct about their deal.)

Okay so, BPD. The thing about BPD is that it requires a special skillset that does not come standard in most clinical training. If a therapist who doesn't have that skillset tries to treat someone with BPD, the therapy will not be very effective and the process will be very frustrating for both them and their client. To be very frank, it's just as true that ordinary therapists are bad at treating BPD and don't like feeling stupid, as it is that people with BPD are hard to treat.

(And training to deal with people with BPD clinically is often not included in grad school education. DBT training is expensive and they won't accept you unless you have an adequate clinical placement.)

Also, part of dealing with BPD in particular is... people with BPD often have trouble seeing authority figures with anything more nuanced than "adoration and compliance" or "fear and loathing". As a therapist, you're signing up as an authority figure. Part of the work means letting your client express all their feelings about you, and helping them work to something more nuanced and sustainable, like, "I am furious and enraged that I'm in pain and I wish my therapist could take that pain away, but I realize that's not within her power. I have to admit that she's not being an evil villain here, so I can feel my resentment but let it go."

Which can be stressful to deal with, as a therapist. You have to live with a lot of hurt and anger and rage headed your way, and keep your perspective. Be empathetic without getting carried away in those emotions. You have to be able to face that pain and say, "I can't take that away. I can only help you learn to bear it."

Basically everyone I know in grad school had a nervous breakdown somewhere along the line because we go to therapist school because we're smart and capable and feel good about helping people, so when we encounter a person we can't help, or are put in situations where we have to stop helping, we tend to have existential crises and end up sobbing in the student lounge about What Am I Even Good For Now. I was lucky because I had a version of that breakdown before I entered grad school, and my therapist warned me to get a new shrink when I moved for my Master's, "Because if you don't need one at the beginning, you'll definitely need one by the end." So I was more equipped to help classmates for whom this was a wholly new experience.

In my opinion, the healthy way to approach the problem of A Person You're Not Good At Helping is to practice humility, set reasonable boundaries, recognize the limits of your competence, and see where you can learn and grow. But many therapists and helping professionals use what I consider to be an unhealthy approach, labelling such clients as "defensive" and "resistant" and "hard to treat" and blaming them for the difficulty.

Which like, I get that "practicing humility" is like "doing exercise", sometimes you're tired and cranky and don't want to go for a run. Sometimes you just want to blame the other person for not accepting your magnanimous help.

Anyway, within the field of mental health psychotherapy, complex trauma is a unique sub-speciality that many therapists don't want to touch at all. I had many classmates say, "Woof, you're into complex trauma? You must be so tough, I could never." 🙄

(Technically I have the ethical obligation to represent my profession in the best possible light to encourage public confidence in the field of psychotherapy. But I think it's not undermining the profession to admit what everyone already knows, which is that some therapists are oblivious assholes who do bad work. I've seen it, I've met them, I want them to piss off forever. Jordan Peterson is a blight to our names and Phil McGraw can go choke.)

So people who are on your wavelength about BPD and trauma and What Therapists Are For are out there. They're just a little rarer than the usual run of therapists. For what it's worth, I've found they cluster more in areas like complex trauma, DBT, Narrative Therapy, and the Hearing Voices Movement. Next year (knock on wood) I'l be going to a conference on the treatment of complex trauma with a friend, and this sounds weird given that it's a weekend all about child maltreatment, but I expect it to be a blast, because I'll get to be among My People, talking about the work that fills our souls.

I really wish that as an undergrad, I'd spent more time hanging out with Social Work students, and going to conferences and trainings. Those are where I met some of the coolest people I really clicked with. And in grad school, I had the extreme pleasure of meeting other people who were a lot like me. Those friendships were especially rewarding because as skilled helpers, we ended up playing a game of Needs Chicken, where each tries hide their own needs and caretake for the other, which finally ended up in a standoff where we had to agree to put down our caretaking skills and just be honest about what we wanted, even if that felt new and scary and raw.

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