#but then it takes so much effort and time for me to go through them and fill my queue

[peter-pumpkin-eater]

Water droplets

Caleb x gn!reader

summary: Caleb bothers you while you try and take a bath.

warnings: none , fluff

word count: 590

A sharp tap tap from the door fills the room, followed by Caleb's muffled voice. “Decent?”

“No.” You sink further in your bath, the bubbles reaching your chin and no doubt in your hair now. The door swings open anyway as Caleb’s large frame walks into the room. You glare at his back as he walks to the sink, getting ready to brush his teeth. He glances at you through the mirror before focusing back on his toothbrush.

“I don’t know how you haven't shriveled up in there yet. Turn into a pip-squeak soup.” He put the toothpaste loaded brush into his mouth. “Can -ave you fer d’nner.” He turns around leaning against the counter, the arm not currently in motion grips the edge of the counter. 

You click your tongue at him going back to relaxing in your rapidly cooling bath. “First you complain, I stink. Now you’re complaining i bath too much.” You gather bubbles in your hands, blowing on them toward Caleb. They float to the floor near his feet. “Make up your mind.”

Caleb just watches you. Watches the way you sink into the water. The way your bare shoulders peak out of the water, the bubbles and murky water shielding your form. There’s droplets of water running from your temple down, down your face. Down, down your neck before pooling in your collar bone. He has to look away, and turns to spit in the sink. Quickly rinsing his toothbrush and wiping his mouth off he makes his way to the edge of the bath. You’re looking at him, still annoyed at his invasion. 

“Want me to wash your hair?” He sits on his haunches, almost eye level with you now. Your lips purse in thought. It’s not the first time he’s washed your hair in the bath. You usually enjoy it, but tonight the thought of having wet hair before bed makes you cringe. He laughs. “No?” He lifts his hand, unable to stop himself from following the water on your jaw.

“Too much effort.”

“But I'm doing it.”

“Then it’s wet.”

“I’ll dry it.”

Your frown worsens, eyes holding his gaze. He smiles all soft like and you really can’t say no when he looks at you like that. So you sigh heavily and slide all the way into the bath, head sinking under the water. When you come back up Caleb’s quick to wipe the water from your eyes, both his hands cupping your cheeks. He squishes slightly.

“There’s better ways to do that.” but you just smirk, spitting the water you collected in your mouth right into that perfect face of his. To his credit he barely flinches and just blinks the water away. “Brat.” he smirks, his eyes narrowing before grabbing the shampoo bottle from behind you. 

By the time he finishes with your hair the bubbles have almost fully disappeared. Caleb stands. The ache from kneeling down burns his muscles. He grabs your fluffy towel and holds it open. It’s high enough to cover his view of you standing up and getting out. You walk into the towel and he wraps it tightly around you pulling you into his chest. Giggles spill from your squished face as you wiggle yourself against him. 

“Get yourself dressed and meet me in your room with the dyer, okay?” He speaks into the top of your wet hair. He feels you nodding against him, but neither of you move. Just enjoying the warmth and the faint smell of mint still in the air.

[unsurprisinglyren]

Sammy’s First Time Squirting

Got this idea from the thought of Dean fucking Sam so good he comes multiple times and when he can’t come anymore – spent and shivering and breathless – Dean keeps going, relentless, until he makes Sammy squirt.

A tremulous thing; the harsh sounds of their combined breathing. The soft, breathy noises Sam makes underneath the weight of Dean’s body; his knees pressed tightly against Dean’s sides, pale thighs spread wide, the twitch of his wet, softened cock against his lower belly, the plumpness of his sack. The clench of his ass as Dean refuses to slow his pace – chasing his own climax dogmatically – and it’s all too much, a blooming, aching kind of pleasure, too deep, and he can’t control it, can’t stop it from happening.

A moment stretched thin, slowed down – and Sam watches the way the tendons in Dean’s neck stand out in stark relief as he thrusts harder, grunting from the effort, gripping Sam’s hips in a bruising hold, white-knuckled, inexorable. It catches inside Sam, the sheer pleasure Dean gets from taking him and it loosens something else within him, something sinuous and heated and struck through with a caustic edge that snares behind his naval – and then he’s spilling over his belly, a warm gush and splatter, copious.

He can’t stop it. Can’t control the way his soft cock trembles, leaking piss with every consecutive rough thrust of Dean’s hips.

Dean’s got his head tipped back, a jut of his chin, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering, but at the pitiful sound Sam makes; lost and beseeching and so fucking humiliated, he looks down, catching sight of the mess, the dribble of piss wet across Sam’s abdomen and chest, warm-smelling.

Sam wants the mattress to swallow him whole. He wants to bury his face in his hands but there’s no time before the tears are upon him; stinging at the corners of his eyes and his breath catches so painfully that his throat hurts from it. Or maybe that’s just the sob that launches up his oesophagus. Unremitting.

“Shit, Sammy,” Dean doesn’t stop moving. In fact, he pistons his hips faster, pressing – if possible – deeper inside the clench of Sam’s tender body. Pummelling Sam’s insides with a fervency he’s never displayed before. A flex of his abdominal muscles, the flicker of his pulse in the hollow of his sweat-dampened neck. “Fuck.” Quietly said. A breathless word. Almost it sounds like an entreaty.

Sam wants to tell Dean he’s sorry. Sorry, De, I didn’t mean to! I don’t know how it happened. I’m so disgusting. But his throat feels stuffed full of jagged rocks. He gnashes his teeth together, sniffling wetly as Dean bends down, changing the angle, fumbling for Sam’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Leaning his entire weight down, capturing Sam, caging him against the mattress, making sure he can’t escape, can’t scurry away for the dubious safety of the motel bathroom.

“It’s okay,” spoken roughly against the damp skin of Sam’s neck, a rush of hot breath that makes goosebumps spring up across his skin. “It’s alright, Sammy. It happens, yeah?” A slower thrust like Dean is trying very hard to keep his composure. “Sometimes when it feels really good it happens. It’s normal. Promise.”

I pissed myself, Dean. How is that even remotely okay?! He can’t say the words out loud. Can’t look down his chest at the wet mess of it. The vulgarity of it. Damp sheet, a wet patch under his rump, a glisten of it on his torso.

“I fucked you dry, I think,” a huff, a graze of teeth to the underside of Sam’s jaw. A shiver down his spine. A twitch of his over-spent cock, too tired to harden again. “Made you squirt for me though, didn’t I.”

God. “Dean!” So wrong! Don’t say stuff like that.

A guttural laugh from Dean. It’s muffled against the corner of Sam’s mouth and then Dean is kissing him fully, warm wetness and the velvet lick of his tongue against the seam of Sam’s lips. He opens his mouth with a trembly inhale through his nose, allowing Dean entrance.

Below, he feels Dean’s cock jerk inside of him, held still, but Sam is aware of every inch. Thick and flushed and holding him exactly where Dean wants him to be. The kiss turns messy, clicking teeth and slurping noises, adolescent desire leading the charge. As Dean pulls back from it, breathing hard, a thinning strand of saliva connected to their bottom lips before it snaps, wet against Sam’s chin, Sam thinks he hears Dean whisper, too quiet to be certain, “Good boy.”

Then, louder, for Sam to hear, he says, “Just a little more, okay, Sammy? I’m close. Then we’ll get you cleaned up.”

[luvfae]

BAD INVESTMENT

PART THREE

summary: you run into a familiar face at the club

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader, myung-gi x f!reader

warnings: sexual innuendos, alcohol use, swearing

bad investment masterlist

You were a party girl. Always had been. And for as long as you could remember, Myung-Gi had loved to party right alongside you. The two of you had always been inseparable in that sense.

Tonight, though, he had plans. His family, the one group of people you could never seem to please, had pulled him away. The same family who had always looked down on you, deeming you unworthy of him. And after three years of putting up with their snide remarks and passive-aggressive comments, you’d stopped caring. Stopped trying to play nice or earn their approval. It wasn’t worth the effort anymore.

It wasn’t like Myung-Gi had much of a backbone when it came to them, either. You had been enough to make him resent them, but not enough for him to take a stand. Still, he knew you didn’t want to be around them. Hell, even he hated the way they treated you, but that didn’t make it easier for him to rebel against the pressure.

So, when he gave you the green light to go out with your friends, you didn’t hesitate. You were used to being on your own, to being the one who could enjoy a night without his constant presence. Tonight, you were free to be yourself, to let loose.

The club was loud and chaotic as usual, but the energy was intoxicating. You could already feel the familiar buzz of excitement swirling through your veins. The lights, the music, the bodies all pressing together in a rhythmic frenzy—it was your element. You’d always felt most alive here, surrounded by strangers, anonymous and untouchable.

Your friends were already by the bar when you arrived, and you didn’t waste any time diving into the rhythm of the night. Shots were passed, laughter bubbled up. You could forget about the weight of Myung-Gi’s family’s disapproval. Tonight was about you.

But as the night wore on, something shifted. You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. It was a strange, unsettling feeling that you tried to brush off. You’d been the center of attention in this kind of crowd before, but this was different. There was a tension in the air, a pull that made your skin prickle.

And then, just as you were laughing with a group of people, you saw him.

Thanos. The guy who punched your boyfriend in the face. The guy who followed you on Instagram. The guy that you never ended up blocking.

He was leaning against the bar, his eyes already locked on you. His presence was undeniable, like a magnetic force that drew every part of you to him, even against your better judgment. You swallowed thickly, feeling a rush of something—a mix of dread and desire—flooding your chest.

His gaze locked onto you from across the bar, that familiar, predatory gleam flashing in his eyes. There was something about him—something dark and magnetic—that made your pulse pick up.

When he finally reached you, his lips curled into a smug smile.

“Señorita,” he greeted smoothly, his voice a low drawl that sent a ripple of anticipation through you.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging the effect he had on you. Instead, you raised an eyebrow and took another sip of your drink. “Do I know you?”

He leaned in slightly, close enough that his scent—deep and musky—saturated the air between you. “You don’t remember me?” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it, like he was daring you to admit the truth.

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Thanos chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through you. “You know, you’re not as good at pretending as you think you are,” he muttered, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, as if it were just for you. “But I don’t mind. I like a little game.”

Your heart raced, but you stood your ground. “I’m not playing anything,” you said, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew they sounded weak. Your body was already betraying you, the pull of his presence undeniable.

Thanos stepped even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I think you are,” he murmured, his lips brushing just beneath your ear. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

You felt his fingers graze the bare skin of your arm, just enough to make the hairs stand on end, but you didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

“Where’s your little boyfriend tonight?” Thanos asked, his voice tinged with mock curiosity as his eyes traced over you, deliberately slow.

You didn’t flinch, but there was a flicker of discomfort that you tried to hide. “None of your business,” you replied, voice steady but with an edge. You didn’t want to let him know how much his question got under your skin.

He chuckled darkly, leaning in a little closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I think it is,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “But if he’s not here, I guess that means you’re free for a little while, right?”

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, felt his eyes roaming your body like he was memorizing every detail. You didn’t know whether to be angry or intrigued, but there was definitely a pull in your chest you couldn’t ignore.

“Myung-Gi’s busy,” you said flatly, refusing to let him see how much it bothered you that he was even asking. “He’s got his own thing going on tonight.”

Thanos gave a low hum, eyes narrowing slightly. “Must be nice to have someone who lets you do whatever you want.” His lips curved into a knowing smile, but there was something dark behind his eyes, like he was looking at you through a lens you weren’t used to.

You shifted, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. “Maybe I like doing whatever I want,” you shot back, more confident than you felt.

Thanos leaned in even closer, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispered, “You know, you could do whatever you want with me. No strings. No questions.” His fingers brushed against your wrist, sending a spark of electricity through your body, but you didn’t pull away.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed silent, the tension between you both thickening. You could feel him testing you, trying to see how far he could push, and it took everything in you not to let him win.

“I bet you’re thinking about it,” he said softly, his lips grazing the edge of your jaw. “What it would be like. Letting go. Letting me show you how good it could feel.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze, but the words didn’t come out the way you intended. “I don’t need you to show me anything.”

Thanos smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was a challenge, a promise of something darker. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours for a split second before he pulled back just enough to study your reaction.

The air between you felt electric now, charged with something you couldn’t quite name. You shouldn’t want this. You shouldn’t be standing here, not with him, not like this. But as much as you tried to fight it, there was a part of you—hidden, buried deep down—that wanted to take him up on his offer.

Before you could think of a response—or even decide whether you wanted to—your friend appeared out of nowhere, grabbing your arm and pulling you away. “Hey, come on, let’s go,” she said urgently, her voice laced with excitement. “We’re hitting the dance floor!”

You stumbled slightly as she yanked you, forcing you to leave the tension hanging in the air, unresolved. You glanced back at Thanos, catching the glint in his eyes—a promise, a challenge. He hadn’t said anything more, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, following you like a shadow.

“Fine,” you muttered, torn between staying and being dragged away, but it didn’t matter now. You were already out of his reach—physically, at least.

As you walked back toward the dance floor, your mind raced. Your friend was already pulling you into the rhythm of the crowd, distracting you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Thanos was still watching you, his presence lingering even as he was out of sight.

You tried to lose yourself in the music, the flashing lights, but your thoughts kept slipping back to him. The way his voice had curled around you, the way his words had made you feel something you weren’t ready to admit.

And just when you thought you could push him out of your mind, a smirk appeared on your lips. You couldn’t stop it. There was something about Thanos, something dangerous and enticing, that you couldn’t ignore.

He would come for you, you knew that. Whether you wanted him to or not.

And when he did, you weren’t sure how much you’d be able to hold back.

Thanos, you were certain, wasn’t the kind of man who gave up. And you? You weren’t sure whether you were ready to fight the pull between you.

One way or another, he was going to catch you. And the thought—no matter how much you tried to resist it—made your heart race in a way it shouldn’t.

[taelophone]

Fashion Nova. Luigi Mangione x Fashionista! Reader HCs

Ok so this is my first headcanons post on this acc.

Starting off strong, because you are so interested in fashion, I could see you being some sort of sub-genre of alternative. REMINDER!! Alternative does not equal emo lol. Alternative is literally any style other than the norm, which is why its called ‘alternative.’ This includes Twee, goth, mcbling, gyaru, hoochie mama, renaissance core, etc etc. I can really see Luigi loving an alternative fashion partner.

You more than likely met Luigi through a friend of a friend! When he first met you he was so intrigued by your style. If you lean more unconventional/haute/camp, he’s so intrigued by your styling methods. It’s a lot, but somehow together it all makes sense! If you lean more conventional/simplistic, he’s in awe with how you make simple accessories stand out. 

One thing, however, he’s a little intimidated by you. Toxic trait incoming lol but he didn’t really like to stand next to you for too long because it makes him feel inferior a little. He’s not insecure about what he wears, but you looking so good in contrast to him, it keeps him on his toes a bit.

My favorite topic is coming up again! Psychology. When you feel intimidated by someone, you tend to try and adopt little pieces of their traits in an effort to feel more confident or gain approval. This is called identification!

And I imagine this is way before you start dating, too. So you’ll gradually begin to notice Luigi dressing a little bit better. You say you hate skinny jeans? He doesn’t even remember when he threw his out. You mention a niche aesthetic? He’s looking into it two weeks later without realizing. You mention your favorite fashion trend of the decades? He’s suddenly very interested in this topic a little bit later.

When you start getting closer, you start talking more and more about how you shop. He really enjoys listening to you ramble about how you found your style and what fashion school was like (if you went).

You probably taught him about color theory, how to style certain items of clothing, all about silhouettes and frames, etc etc.

He realizes a little later that you REALLY know your shit, and starts facetiming you when he gets something new or wants your opinion on an accessory/thing he wants to buy.

Cue the “I got these new jeans, but I have no idea what to do with them…” “What do you think would look good with this shirt?” “Can you help me get ready for this event I'm going to? Please?

Now when you start dating, he just completely lets you take over in dressing him. He’s been flamed in the past for his dogshit outfit skills, but he also likes when you try out various aesthetics/styles on him.

His favorite, BY FAR, was old money (which IS ALTERNATIVE, CHAT.) or model off-duty for himself. He’s never been one to care about what he wears too much on regular days, but he’s noticed a difference in how he feels and looks when he’s styled just right every day.

One of his favorite things that you do is adjust his collar, nitpick at his tie, position his rings, give him some glasses, etc etc.

Every time he reaches for that Bali shirt or monochrome adidas hoodie, you have to grab his hand and tell him no more.

Bonus points if you know how to sew. His zipper broke? His darling girlfriend can repair it! Rip in a sleeve? Never fear, his woman is here.

He loves shopping with you now! You’ll go to the mall, the bins, second-hand stores, etc etc. He likes taking you with him especially because you see so so much potential in the most mundane/crazy looking pieces ever.

He loves going to Victoria’s Secret with you istg. He’s a little shy/embarrassed cuz we need to be honest, what man isn’t, but he loves seeing you light up over all the pretty bras and accessories.

On the topic of accessories, sometimes you share! It’s taken hella convincing, but sometimes he’ll wear a very casual and small hair clip if he’s behind on a haircut. Courtesy of you!

He loves his lil fashionista she’s literally saved his ass from so many ugly ass outfits !!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Hard Work Pays Off

Pairing: Officer!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: All Dean does is work to make the streets safer for you and his little girl. Due to his efforts, his talents and dedication are recognized by the Deputy Commissioner, and he’s rewarded in the best way.

Square Filled: laughter is the best medicine for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

The night is quiet, giving you a perfect setting to read your book. The fire is going in the fireplace, you have a tall glass of wine, and your three-year-old baby girl is down for the night. There is only one thing missing, but you’ll take the win. You’ve just finished the chapter when the front door opens and closes. Heavy books are kicked off tired feet, and keys are hung on the hook by the door.

You look up and see your husband walk into the living room.

“Hi, honey. How was work?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He walks over to you and drops down on the couch, plopping his head in your lap. Looks like you’re done reading for the night. You put in your bookmark and set the book off to the side so you can give your husband your undivided attention. Your wine is in your left hand so you use your right to run your fingers through his hair. He lets out a relieved sigh at the feeling of your nails on his scalp.

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not so much as bad as it is frustrating. My boss is cracking down on all of us. The arrest numbers are shit right now, so he’s trying his best to get them back up. I arrested this one guy yesterday on a drug charge. I had it in the bag. Until some idiot mislabeled the evidence. Now the guy I arrested, guilty on all charges, is able to walk. Technically.”

“I wish I could help you,” you mutter.

“You are.” He closes his eyes and relaxes under your touch. “Just keep doing that.” You continue to rake your fingers through his hair, making sure to lightly run your nails against his scalp. “Tell me about your day.”

“Well, after I took Sabrina to my sister’s, I did some intense grocery shopping. I returned the last of the presents that didn’t fit or weren't liked. I also took down some of the Christmas decorations, but I wanted to save the tree just for you.”

Dean chuckles and looks at the lit-up Christmas they still have yet to take down.

“I’ll do it this weekend.”

You lean down and kiss his nose. “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’ll be able to help you relax more up there.”

Dean grins like a horny teenager and hops off the couch eagerly. He scoops you into his arms and takes you to your bedroom, your giggles disappearing behind the closed door. Just your laughter is enough to bring his spirits up, but you have something special planned for him tonight.

Thanks to you and a good night’s rest, Dean walks into work the next morning with a calm exterior. Yes, he’s still pissed at the evidence guy but he’s not as pissed as he was yesterday. The guy he arrested will slip up again, and this time, he won’t let him get away.

“Winchester!” Captain Stratford pops his head out of his office. “A word.”

Dean sets his coffee on his desk before walking into his boss’ office. “Yes, Captain?”

“Have a seat.” Dean doesn't show how nervous he is. Captain Stratford fired someone two days ago because he had the lowest amount of arrests on his record. Sure, it was justified, but Dean is still nervous nonetheless. “I suspect congratulations are in order for the task force that you managed. You got a major drug lord off the street. I am very impressed with the way you handled things.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Deputy Commissioner Goodfield is going to call you with the good news, but I’d like to be the first to say that on Saturday, you’ll be offered a metal for your services. This was a major win for this department, and we’re all going to make it known that it’s you who they should thank.”

Dean is floored by the news. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. The Deputy Commissioner doesn't give out medals all willy-nilly. Whoever gets them has worked their ass off for them, and here Dean is about to get one.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Not only did you get Stefano Rizzo off the streets, but you managed twenty officers underneath you for the task force. That’s no easy feat. You deserve this reward.”

Dean stands along with the Captain, and he shakes his hand vigorously.

“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor to even be thought of.”

Dean practically skips out of the Captain’s office and back to his desk. The first person he calls is you because you’re the only one in his life who has supported him through thick and thin. He remembers when he was first starting off as a police officer. He got stuck doing beat work and was talked down to a lot. His old precinct was a bad place to work, but he stuck to his guns and kept his head high. If it weren't for your encouraging words, he never would have been able to leave that place.

Now he’s earning a medal for his efforts.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” you answer.

“You’ll never guess what just happened. Captain Stratford just told me that the Deputy Commissioner is giving me a medal for getting Stefano off the streets. He was impressed with the way I handled the task force. I’m getting a medal, sweetheart.”

“Oh, my God! I’m so happy for you! Kristy! Dean is getting a medal!” you yell to your sister. “I knew your hard work would pay off. I’m so proud of you. When is the ceremony?”

“This weekend. I don’t know the details yet, but I’m sure Deputy Commissioner Goodfield will fill me in.”

“How about I ask Kristy if she can watch Sabrina for the night so I can congratulate you properly tonight.”

“You and your dirty mind,” Dean laughs, “but yes. I’m all for that.”

“I gotta go. It’s arts and crafts day. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The second Dean hangs up, he becomes nervous. Sure, he did a good job with the task force, but he was just doing his job. He was doing what all the other officers would do in his shoes. Sure, he has a natural leading quality about him, but he doesn't think he did anything special to deserve this reward.

For the rest of the week, all Dean could think about was the ceremony. Now that it’s here, he doesn’t know if he can go through with it. His entire precinct is in the audience along with some important people from Congress. He is sitting on stage while the Deputy Commissioner is speaking to the audience, and he peeks around the podium to see his brother, you, and his baby girl, Sabrina, in the front row.

You lock eyes with him and wink, mouthing “I love you” to him. He immediately relaxes and his head becomes clear. You do that to him. You make him feel better about everything.

“Now, enough talking from me,” Deputy Commissioner Goodfield says. “I want you to welcome someone of great value. Someone who stepped into the role of being a leader and ran with it. Someone who has repeatedly shown that in the face of diversity, danger, and conflict, every problem can be solved with a clear head and strong decision. Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to present this award to our very own, Office Dean Winchester of the 99.”

“I’m so proud of him,” you squeal to Sam as you clap.

“Me, too. He deserves this.”

Dean stands and walks across the stage in confidence. Sabrina wiggles out of your grasp and starts running on little legs toward the railing right before the stage.

“Daddy!” she squeals.

The entire audience “awhs” at hearing her little voice, and Dean smiles tenfold when he does. He accepts the award and stands next to the Deputy Commissioner for a picture by a local reporter.

“Daddy!” Sabrina says again, waving at him.

He waves at her as he walks over to his Captain, and he shakes his hand.

“I’m proud of you, Winchester.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Dean steps off the stage, and Sabrina runs over to him with her arms outstretched. He scoops her into his arms and peppers kisses on her cheek. You and Sam get up and walk over to him, and he leans in to kiss you on the lips.

“Congrats, dude,” Sam smiles and slaps his shoulder.

“Congratulations, my love,” you whisper.

He kisses you once more, his head full of clarity. You and why he does what he does. Sabrina is why he does what he does. He will do anything to make this world just a bit safer for the two loves of his life.

x

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[jjscrybaby]

jj maybank x sweetheart!reader | hurt & comfort | (gun violence, anxious!reader, comforting!jj.)

this is based on season 1 episode 1 but i did get the idea to write it from @blueheron15 !! i’m gonna write more scenes from the show with this pairing i think but as always keep sending reqs!

i went back and changed some things to do with sarah and john b in the first thing i posted for sweetheart!reader because i want it all to make sense timeline wise so it wouldn’t add up for reader to meet jj through sarah!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

The entire day had felt like torture for you. The others had enjoyed themselves, a day of adventure and excitement which you hadn’t all felt for a while, you felt the opposite. All of it was too much, the gun, the money, the dead body showing up. It was too much, maybe that’s why you’d agreed to the kegger so easily. Getting drunk can do nothing but calm you down.

“Okay, baby?” JJ asked softly as you came and sat down on his lap halfway through the night.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sipping on your bitter beer; there weren’t any other options and you weren’t in a complaining mood.

“Yeah? Why you lookin’ at me all grumpy then, huh?” He teased, poking your cheek.

You pretended to bite his finger, causing him to let out a mock gasp which had you giggling in his arms. He smiled sweetly at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just an overwhelming day.”

“Yeah, but it was fun,” JJ replied.

“For you.”

“Maybe, but you had fun earlier when we were on the boat. And I know you liked bein’ pressed up against me on the ledge,” he teased, making your cheeks heat up at the memory.

“Shut it, Jayj. Didn’t have a choice, you forced me to come along,” you pouted.

He ran his finger over your lip, mocking you with the same expression. “C’mon, cheer up baby. Nothin’ else out of the ordinary is gonna happen, okay? We’re just havin’ a drink with our friends, and people we hate.” He pointed to the group of Kooks on the far end of the beach.

“Sarah’s nice,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Is she?” He’d never really heard you talk about her, all he knew was what Kiara had told him about her so he assumed that meant that you weren’t a fan of the blonde also.

“She hangs out with me at school sometimes. Kie doesn’t mind, I already checked,” you explained. JJ smiled softly at you, of course you’d made sure Kiara was okay with you talking to Sarah. You were just too sweet.

“She hangs with you at school?” JJ knew you weren’t a huge fan of school. A lot of the Kook’s used to take advantage of your kindness, and that lead to him having some serious conversations with them. No one bothers you anymore, but most also don’t make an effort to even get to know you.

You nodded your head, sipping your drink again. You weren’t feeling the buzz that you wanted. “We eat lunch together sometimes, or, like, we partner up for projects.”

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple.

It was nice, and that was probably why later that night, when he’d had enough drinks to last a lifetime, he offered Sarah his spare drink. He meant no harm, he was just happy that someone at school was making you happy. It only took a minute for things to go wrong.

John B had saved JJ from a fight with Topper, something that’s happened more times than he could count, but Topper just had to have the last word. “Dirty Pogues!” It had sent John B reeling, turning around to shove him.

From there, it just spiralled. One moment Topper was winning, the next John B was, and soon enough the Kook had one of your best friend’s heads held under water.

“He’s drowning him!” Pope exclaimed.

JJ saw red. You watched as the blonde rushed over, and then the click of the gun safety echoed through your ears. That damn gun. It was held to Topper’s head, everyone seemed to freeze as they realised what was going on.

“Yeah, you know what that is. Your move, broski,” you could hear JJ threaten.

You were frozen. On one hand, you weren’t sure he had much other choice? If he hadn’t stepped in then there’s a high likelihood Topper wouldn’t have stopped until John B was dead. On the other hand, he was holding a gun to someone’s head; that spoke for itself.

The crowd dispersed, terrified of the mad man with the gun, leaving just your group of friends and Sarah and Kelce to deal with the aftermath.

“JJ! Put the gun down,” Sarah pleaded.

“Did you say somethin’, Princess?” JJ asked, not even turning to look at her.

“We’re good, we’re good,” Topper exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender as he slowly started to stand up.

“Kie! Can you check your psycho friend, please?” You didn’t necessarily like Sarah calling JJ a psycho, but he was sort of acting like one. You’d be the same if it was Topper holding a gun to JJ’s head; you’d probably be worse.

“Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!” JJ yelled, holding the gun in the air as he shot it off twice.

That was what did it. The waterworks were set off and you started to panic. You weren’t scared of JJ, you were scared for him. He just fired a gun, he could go to jail! You couldn’t help but to start crying as the overwhelming situation took over.

“Are you crazy? You idiot!” Pope exclaimed as both him and Kiara shoved JJ. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s not worth it!” Kie added.

“I’m saying his life, okay?” JJ argued.

It took only a few seconds for him to look at you. He was expecting you to be angry, not crying.

“You’re gonna jeopardise everything!” Pope carried on, but JJ wasn’t listening to the lecture anymore.

“Hey, hey, baby.” JJ rushed to your side, cupping your face in his hands. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” you whispered, afraid of Pope and Kiara’s reactions to what you were worried about.

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed, he grabbed your hand in his as Kie and Pope ran over to help John B. He dragged you — gently — down the beach and away from the still lingering party-goers. His hands found your waist, tugging you so you were chest to chest.

“You don’t gotta worry about me getting in trouble, okay?” He soothed, stroking your hair.

“I don’t want you to go to jail!” You argued, sobs still leaving your mouth just at the thought.

“Alright, alright.” He was trying his best to not let the amusement show on his face. He couldn’t help it, you were just so cute. “No one’s going to jail, okay? I promise. I’m fine. Now, do you want to stand here crying or do you want to go home?”

“With you?” You checked, wiping the tears from your face.

He smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart. With me.”

[somewhereincairparavel]

hot take but I will always hate the concept of percy getting elected as praetor with having spent so less time in camp jupiter, while jason spent the same amount of time in chb and still wasn't able to fill in the gaps percy left, but percy seemingly did for jason in camp jupiter, and how replaceable jason was shown as, despite the fact that he spent 12 years, and trained as a TODDLER. i swear if I see some "joke" about percy surpassing jason in a week COMPLETELY ignoring that it's a very obvious gary sue moment written by rick I'll get so salty. it's one of the many inconsistencies of hoo.

because not only does it scream main character favouritism from rick (with making percy fit into everything somehow with zero plot holes) people ONLY say "jason was replacing percy" but apparently acting like percy wasn't? they were BOTH sent to replace eachother, temporarily atleast.

it's the fact that romans are showed to be very choosy in selecting praetors, which is why it took jason so long to become one despite his reputation. the camp just randomly hailing percy (a greek, people whom they hate) as their leader with zero hesitation whatsoever DESPITE the presence of octavian is weird. considering how much they opposed frank, a ROMAN going on an important quest, deeming him unworthy, despite hearing mars, literal GOD giving them orders to send frank, they were still very adamant in not sending him. so we can see that romans bend their rules for no one.

yes percy accomplished something GREAT and deserved the position as much as jason did, but if you take into consideration how the romans were written in the books, they were the type of people to ignore efforts people made if it meant the people were going against their "traditional" values. going by that logic, rick made them contradict their own views just for the purpose of elevating percy, and instilling this sense of superiority over jason.

knowing that the target audience wouldn't want jason to be on the same level as percy, which is strange because rick also meant to write jason and percy as foils of eachother, so shouldn't they be given equal amounts of importance? or just don't write them as foils at all if you want percy to have leverage over jason so bad? like pick a side.

if percy can be made a praetor with a week's time and have golden treatment in an enemy camp that accepts no one in easily (as opposed to chb who's more accepting) then why ISN'T jason held up like a hero in chb if percy is? (nah don't bombard me with the "camp half blood is loyal! unlike camp jupiter, rick wrote percy getting held up to point out that difference between the camps loyalty" bs we are just making up excuses and stories to make sense of the bad writing, who knows if rick even thought through all that, considering how inconsistent he is in books after pjo)

how come chb, whos main trait was written as loyalty to the campers never changed when it came to jason being there? jason got good friends, sure. but the camp NEVER saw him as a replacement to percy and there was some tension with him popping out of nowhere right when percy disappeared. jason was accepted in camp, but he wasn't hailed like a hero there the way percy was.

but camp jupiter, who's traits were extremely traditional values and rules that was never changed or messed with in the past was randomly tailored to percy's advantage? jason was hailed as the pinnacle of the true image of rome, and them replacing him with an unconventional greek hero within a WEEK seems so contradictory and just screams bad writing. why is the fandom giving this portion of the bad writing a pass when it clearly wastes the potential of the characters who aren't percy or annabeth? also this is NOT a percy hate post before y'all flood my inbox with threats, just pointing out one of the many inconsistencies of heroes of olympus.

[2-shots2-thehead]

- I try to picture me without you but I can’t -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Basement Gerard era loser x reader headcanons bc I love that little creature

Pairing : Basement!Gerard Way (MCR) x GN!Reader (use of Y/n)

Warnings : Mentions of physical affection, slight angst if you squint ?

A/N : Sorry for not filling requests ring now !! I have a bunch in drafts but I’ve been feeling really burnt out and can kinda only manage headcanons like this- My illness (??) is getting worse now

- asdjkfjdjdhvsifnwnek

- i love him so much

- you guys met through mikey

- i mean, how else would you? this man never leaves his room (which is just his mother’s basement)

- the first time you came over to mikey’s house, he gave you a ‘grand tour’ of sorts, which included the basement

- gerard wasn’t home that day, but you took note of every interesting, quirky thing about his room

- Star Wars bedsheets, comics everywhere, action figures on little display shelves, and a few expensive-looking Lego sets

- you met gerard the next time you visited, but didn’t talk nearly as much as you wanted him to

- but that’s just because he was nervous

- it’s like that meme- he fell first, and harder

- so rightly, when you were over at his house, it was nerve wracking

- eventually he confessed..accidentally

- less of a confession, more..snooping

- you, mikey, and gerard were hanging out in the basement but he ended up leaving his diary open on the nightstand

- you didn’t mean to read it, of course, but..you couldn’t help yourself

- “they’re honestly amazing. everything about them holds a kind of beauty i’d never witnessed before them. y/n l/n. the one i unfortunately fell for, and have absolutely no chance with”

- after a very long discussion, excluding mikey, you guys started dating

- you have to reassure him a lot because he will kind of never not be convinced you could do way better than him ☹️

- can you blame him, though ? (i love hyping up my readers so much)

- you guys sleep over at each other’s houses a lot

- which is perfectly fine ‘cause, no matter how worried he was, your mom loved him

- it’s not like you brought home some punk bad boy

- just a nerdy little guy who can’t go ten minutes without referencing one of his favorite comics, or a new video game he just played

- a lot of said sleepovers consist of pizza and a classic horror movie

- it was a cheap option, and it was fun !!

- you guys slept at the same house more often than not, but the pizza and horror films were a friday night routine

- whenever you do stay at his house, he’s a little embarrassed because of his room

- 1. it’s just kinda always a mess, no matter how much effort he puts into cleaning it

- 2. all his decorations are nerdy, and surely you would never go for someone like that, right ?

- wrong !!!

- one of those reassuring times where you need to explain that he’s your boyfriend because he’s himself, and you love every nerdy thing about him

- this man owns like…a billion sweatshirts

- so if the weather is even remotely chilly, you’re probably wearing one (let’s be honest, you just want an excuse to show it off)

- he always gets really excited when you wear his clothes

- it’s not so much a turn-on like you see in fics, he just gets really happy because it shows that you’re not embarrassed of him

- and it makes him feel like he’s being helpful, and he strives for that

- he’s not big on pda, but he loves hand/ finger holding

- when you’re not in public though..

- this man just constantly wants to do everything he can to show how much he loves you

- and a lot of that is just kisses

- his main love language is quality time, id say, but he’s also very big on physical affection in the confines of one of your guys’ homes

- he remembers just about every single thing you tell him about yourself

- he’s never forgetting your favorite color. i mean, it’s important information !!

- you guys take Polaroids together all the time

- ^^^ mostly just him taking pictures of you

- not an insecurity thing, he just loves finding any possible way to ‘capture that beauty’

- you guys never really go on fancy dates, cause you don’t need to

- you’re both content with your cuddly hangouts

- but, when you do go out, it’s something fun like an arcade or record shop

- COMIC. SHOP. DATES.

- he loves just walking around the store with you and pointing out certain comics while spewing off a billion random facts

- long story short, he takes every geek-out chance he gets

- because he’s learned by now that you don’t mind it and, in fact, encourage it

- many a stay-in day spent in bed with him ranting effortlessly for hours while you just nod and play with his hair

[squidsinashirt]

**Shoving my way through the tabloids and paparazzi**

Mr Tracy, the work you have done for the world's environmental charities is phenomenal, it's amazing that you're so passionate about not only our world's oceans but it's rainforests, it's grasslands and it's human life too.

At times it must be challenging trying to balance your work with humans and your passion for wildlife what with how humans have destroyed the worlds ecosystem.

Tell me, do you see a future with nature and the hustle and bustle of the human world working together in peace? How do you think we could achieve that?

– Nature&Nurture news blog reporter.🌿

Hi there! 👋

Apologies for the delay in replying to this - love your stuff, long time subscriber! Wanted to give you a decent reply so I hope this is okay.

That’s very kind of you to say but I can’t take all the credit. Tracy Industries is committed to all of the green pledges we have made, and our successes with various third party organisations and projects is only thanks to the enthusiastic effort of all of our board, trustees, senior management and of course, our CEO (who is incredibly supportive of all of our projects).

(I just send comms and put up posters and annoy people at the annual galas once they’ve had a drink or two)

Moving to being a zero-waste society has been a huge achievement, but we shouldn’t be stopping there. We’ve spent a lot of time ripping every resources from the planet and doing what we like without much concern for everything else that shares this space with us. We should be actively investing in restoration programmes that prioritise renewal over our own priorities, and vehemently protecting what is already there.

So do I see a future with nature and our very busy society coexisting - it has to! Nothing works if nature doesn’t. We came very close to the brink not so long ago, and we can’t allow that to happen again. We’re the custodians of our little planet, and it’s up to us, and us alone, to do better. Everything around us is relying that, as a population, we pick up that responsibility, including for our own kids and so on.

I had a really great afternoon recently organised with Robby Shelby (co-creator of the Supreme Barrier Reef with his mom, Dr Helen Shelby) with their junior conservation team. They’re all elementary school aged kids, learning to dive and also learning about the work that is ongoing there, why it matters and how to continue it. It’s amazing to see the next generation keen to take the reins - and I had an awesome time getting schooled on turtles and jellyfish.

How to achieve that - that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it. There’s a reason various world bodies have spent so long fighting over it and I guess it’s because it’s complicated, on paper and in practice.

I would say my own philosophy is that we ought to be leaving the world a better place than it was when we stepped into it. Everyone has an equal individual responsibility to do what they can. Food choices you make (hi fellow vegan gang 🌱), where you spend your money if you can, and educating other people. Treating the planet and everything that lives here kindly (including each other so, y’know, be excellent to each other!)

I guess I’m just very lucky that I can access resources that mean we can do a lot more.

For the bigger stuff, there are obviously the three main goals of the World Ecological Summit (not going to have time to go into the other 47 sub points):

1. Move to entirely emission free fuels and technology for all transport, which we’re making really good strides in, which is super exciting. As a bit of a side note, International Rescue has ⅖ of our ‘birds totally clean (see, nobody is perfect except Thunderbird Four). My aim over the next 12 months is to try and get to a point where we have a 95% sustainable fuel option ready to trial for each of them - currently sitting at 75% average, which is good but… we don’t do ‘good’ at iR, we do better. We use three different fuels because of the differing technologies each of our ships carries and the environments they work in so it’s a little more complicated. But that’s one of my pet projects (along with our incredible engineering department) so check in with me in the fall!

2. Our largest industrial leaders taking responsibility in being proactive, investing in green technologies and processes, and using their corporate responsibility for good. I think my previous answer about Tracy Industries kind of covers this one, but it’s important that those with the biggest weight to throw around do it in a way that benefits the most vulnerable in our society. Which leads nicely into point three…

3. Protecting the most vulnerable ecosystems, territories and people. It’s really easy to point the finger at humans for the environmental concerns we all share, but that’s completely unfair toward the most vulnerable populations amongst us, who are usually the ones who have had the most impact from what we’ve caused. We should be improving our environment, whilst also addressing the inequalities in food hunger, poverty, ill health, education that still exist. They aren’t necessarily two separate issues and we are an incredibly advanced society, - there’s no reason people should still be living with such huge levels of difference.

So I guess the summary of all of this is - people need to lift their head and care a bit more, and not be afraid to take on the responsibility of being better to environment and to each other.

Thanks again for the query - always happy to ramble to you guys! If you’d like to come along to the next visit to our rainforest project on the Bolivian border, we’re due to be out there early May and you’d be more than welcome! You can get me on g.tracy@tracyindustries.org 🫶🏻

[sombrashe]

˙ᵕ˙𓍢ִ໋𐙚 ᰔᩚ dilf!troy ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ᥫ᭡˚

content age gap (reader is early-mid 20's while troy is early-mid 40's because i said so), teasing, semi dom troy, crybaby reader, horrrrrney reader, reader has a vagina, inexperienced reader, soft smut, sorry this may be ooc, not edited

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ his cock rubs against your clothed cunt. weeping hole covered by thin cotton. he fixes them every time his cock knocks them askew. such a pretty color darkening with slick. your face is mesmerizing. eyes that were so angry and hard before now soft and wet. weeping hole covered and teased. your clit easy to feel when he presses down. really sliding his cock against you. you want to be the mean one for once. you want to tease him until he's leaking a darkened patch in his underwear. instead you lay there huffing and shifting as that uncomfortable sticky feeling starts to cover your thighs. you stretch your arms forward not expecting much. he bends himself down to give your wet pout a gentle kiss. you finally seem to find your voice and keep it slow and wavering.

"Troy. Can you please fuck me."

"You think you deserve it, sweet pea?"

you're shocked, he's never made you actually beg before. a simple request is all it took. heat covers your body as he taps his cock against your covered clit. he waits patiently, watching the wheels turn in your head as you weigh the pros and cons. you always look so g'damn good mulling over decisions. finally you take a deep breath and he waits. making sure to reward you with a few clit bumps he takes in your weepy eyes as you whimper for him.

"Pretty please, Troy. I need you to make love-"

"Now, don't go doing that. It won't work."

you blink and lift his left hand with his palm facing your face. pressing a few gentle kisses to his palm you make him cup your cheek. he frowns and stops his movements as he waits for you next move. you try not to let the sudden lack of stimulation get to you.

"Love bug, baby. Can you please fuck me? Pretty please? Even if you only want to do a little that's okay."

his face softens and he presses a few ticklish kisses to the junction between your shoulder and neck. he still keeps his hips still and you begin to think you didn't beg hard enough. you start to feel your eyes well up again this time at the lack of stimulation. when a sob escapes your pinched lips he shushes your next one with a soft kiss.

"Shhhh, don't worry. I'll take care of you darlin'. I'd never leave such a pretty thing in distress."

the tears have already started and despite not feeling upset anymore you can't stop the next ones from squeezing their way out. he pulls away from you and slips the tip of his cock through the side of the darkened cotton. finding your clit he rubs himself against it for a little while. enjoying your whines and sobs as he continues to withhold your relief. he knows this must be painful for you. your beautiful cunt aching for some release as he bully's your wonderfully sensitive clit. he can't see what he's doing just the outline of his cock moving under your underwear. he watches as you struggle to keep your eyes open. you know his rule, keep your eyes open and on me at all times. he smiles at your effort and since you did so good today he decides you deserve a nice reward.

"Go 'head and close your eyes, baby. Relax for me."

you immediately follow his instructions and let your eyes roll back. your legs are being held open by your sheer determination at this point and you focus on your breathing. you'll wonder how you looked at this moment after your bath but right now you can only think about how he's catching the tip of his cock on your soaked hole. biting the inside of your cheek you keep any complaints to yourself as he slowly inches his way in. your cunt greedily sucks him in and you clench down completely dumb. not a single thought. the only feeling was his thick cock massaging your tight walls. gasping you let out a harsh sob as pleasure shoots through you. nothing but happiness flowed through you and you're pretty sure you were smiling. you would have stayed on this idea for a moment longer is he didn't start moving. arching your back you let out a sharp cry of his name. he buries his face in your neck and starts really fucking into you. his thrusts are shallow but sharp. if he didn't have such a strong hold on you you'd be slamming your head into the wall. throwing your arms around his neck you then wrap your legs tightly around his waist. oh god.

"Troy. Troy. Troy. Fuck, yes, yes, yes. Please. So close. So, so close."

your words are loud and whiny. if you weren't home alone you'd be in big trouble. he hold you nice and close his hand slipping between you both. he runs his fingers down your clenching stomach and under the elastic to your underwear. finding your perky clit he starts rubbing slow circles around it. you follow his lead and bury your face into his waves. he only teases you for a moment before he's pressing the pads of his fingers against your bundle of nerves. your chants are barely muffled and they only spur him on.

"Can I cum? I think. I've been good. Please?"

"Of course, sweet pea."

you thank him softly as your orgasm washes over you like morphine. shaking slightly you gush over his cock and soak everything to the point your sheets will definitely need to be changed. relaxation infects your muscles like the plague and you struggle to open your eyes when he starts to pull away. you panic for a second thinking he didn't get to cum only to shift and feel his seed spill out of your exhausted cunt. you relax only to panic slightly at the fact that you fell asleep for a moment. you didn't think you were that tired but the teasing and tears definitely took it out of you. you can't even begin to hide your tiredness as a sharp yawn rips it's way from your chest. stretching the immediate melatonin that washes over your body has you slipping into another short nap. blinking your heart sinks as troy stands there with a wet washcloth gently cleaning you.

"I'm sorry. I can take a shower."

"Sweet pea you're exhausted. Relax. I'll clean you up, get you into something comfortable and then i'll hold you till you fall asleep."

you get lost in the fantasy of it all that you end up waking up again as he slips a pair of underwear on you to catch any of his cum that spills out of you. you manage to stay awake until he's slipped into bed with you and hugs you tight to his chest. your cheek presses against the skin of his chest and you listen to his heartbeat as you drift to sleep.

[xeversayfishxace]

Music

There is a haze, Xever listens to the rage of Bradford tries to listen as his blood is splattered everywhere but all Xever does is laugh. He is laughing so hard at all of the words coming out of this dog's mouth. Yeah, Xever had been right. He had been right all along. This person at his very core, was just as spiteful, just as terrible, just as uncaring. They may come from opposite sides of the world, opposite sides of society, opposite sides of wealth, yet at the center they were just empty shells with only the smallest thing to cling to. Someone so isolated that they were left to stew in those terrible emotions for years on end with no one reaching out a hand to them.

"Ha...ha...ha...there is none...I know what I am...and now I finally get to see you too. You tried to hide it...you tried to deny it...but deep down...you and I...we're the same. What if you had died then? Would I have cared? Nope! Because why the fuck would I? No one cared about me...no one ever cared about me...and no one cared about you either. Not the real you...just the you they wanted to see..."

Xever was shaking, obviously part of him is scared right now. Yet, he is smiling so strongly looking towards the man who took everything from him because in this moment he won. He got to see that side the bastard locked up tighter than Fort Knox. He got to wear Raz down to the point where that true self was coming out for the first time. So, why not show his real side too? That was what Xever wanted deep down. That was the real reason he was doing this, always had been.

"You had Shredder sure...but look what his care has become now...he treats you like an abused child...while you just stand there and take it. A man like that could never give you what you truly wanted...hell the man is so obsessed with revenge on that rat that he'd watch the whole world burn. Haha...its so funny you call me a rat...god it's so funny...I can't help but laugh...I am a joke too...just like you..."

He's hurt more and more, he is struggling to hold it together. Tears come out from his eyes as he talks the smile never leaves, but the fishman is crying now. Because it is all so funny. Their lives are a creul joke, a joke where the punchline is their very existance. No one could write content like this, because it was so ironic that it hurt.

"I had someone once too...someone I clinged to...someone I put my all for...he was my brother...not my real brother...but he was there for me when no one else was. I pushed myself so hard for him...I made myself into a person I never would have become if not for him. I spent years with him, I went on heists with him...he was my whole world...nothing could ever hurt me so long as he needed me. But, do you know what happened? I made one mistake...one small mistake...and he turned on me...threw out all those years like they were nothing. How was I supposed to react to that? Hahahaha...nope...I just laughed...laughed at how stupid I was..."

As the shadow grows closer and closer Xever's head lulls backwards as he keeps looking into the yellow eyes of the dog of many faces. Chris Bradford, Dogpound and now Rahzar. A man can wear so many faces yet can only ever had only one that was real. The fish kept gripping onto the real face. He wasn't letting it go now that he had it.

"What you hated about me...is plain to see...because no one hates us more than we hate ourselves. Because why wouldn't we? We can lie...we can pretend...we can mush it up as much as we like...but...we are our own worst critics...you still blame yourself don't you? Even now, you still think it deep down...you try to cover it...but you do blame yourself the most...because I do...you are going through what I did with Rajan...and I...can't help but think wow...that's so funny..."

Xever struggled to hold on, he was hanging on so much. And it showed how much effort he was putting into it. He shook his head back and forth the pain was getting to his head now. Yet, still Xever still kept on talking despite how much he has trouble continuing.

"So...you can go ahead and kill me...like you no doubt have wanted to all this time. Kill me for baring your true self to the world...kill me...for always throwing back anything you threw at me. But, I want you to know this Chris Bradford, Dogpound, or Rahzar that if you do that...then you'll lose the only person in the whole damn world who could grow to care about the real you. I admit I am a bastard, I am a heartless bastard...but...when I see you...when I see myself in you...its like looking into a mirror. And at somepoint...you get sick of beating yourself up. You don't have to prove anything to me...you don't have to be your best...you don't have to be a mindless dog...you can just be you...and I will accept you...we might suck right now...but if we suck together we might not be as bad anymore...I am so tired...of being...me all by myself...so if you're there too...then it might be fun..."

That does it.

It’s almost like something sparked within the beast, as if a certain feral bloodlust was awakened. A few of his ‘rah’s’ escaped his throat, the ones that gave him the nickname Rahzar in the first place. A snarl and razor sharp teeth were revealed.

“Listen here, you little trout - You really want to talk to me about not earning anything?  About how everything is just handed to me? A lowlife like you?"

Rahzar was attempting to bend his arm further, putting an immense pressure on it in that moment. Yep, someone unleashed the beast and he lost control of himself. Xever certainly was getting what he wanted now.

“You only survived because of dumb luck and nothing more. I worked my whole life to get to the top! You spend your whole life rotting on the streets and taking things that did not belong to you. You got lucky that Master Shredder offered you a place in our clan, you got lucky that you did not end up dead after you turned into a fish and you got lucky I found Stinkman in the first place.”

His snarls were becoming more sinister and he is currently attempting to push the fish more into the ground.

“You are nothing. You will never know a life of high expectations. You will never know what it is like when people are only with you for who you are at your best! When everyone around you wants you to be at your best all the time and go even beyond that too because anything less than that is not acceptable. Nobody could care about someone like you! You only showed up here because you foolishly got caught stealing Master Shredder's briefcase and then did some of the dirty work for us - I was his greatest student! He wanted me to be one of his successors, I spend years training while you just showed up one day! You think Master Shredder just handed me this position?!”

Although suddenly - a few more loud ‘rah’s echoed through the night air, not necessary because Xever was attempting to strangle him back (and he did try and push his head away as best as he could) but because of his frustration over that last sentence - so instead the wolf lifted his foot in an attempt to kick the fish away and send him fyling - regardless of what would happen, there seemed to be no signs of Rahzar stopping his attacks.

“Don’t you dare whine about how my actions would have killed you when you did the SAME TO ME.”

Oh boy, he sure snapped there. Rahzar was referring to what happened on that roof one night.

“You expect me to care for what happened to you? For nearly suffocating that night and then living inside a tank for a while? You want me to feel bad for that? You really expect me to care after you couldn’t be bothered to do the same?”

Another ‘rah’ and his shadow is looming closer over Xever. So what if it had been a bluff at the time? In his panic he did not realize that. Maybe it couldn’t have been a bluff either. Nobody could be so sure of that when you are already dangling half from the roof and the worst part (aside from the humiliation of being stuck inside a trash can) was that his fate was up to the man who couldn’t care less about him and who would have gladly let him die with a smile.

“You know why I pushed away? Because you are nothing more than that: A dirty little rat and this proved it back then. I don’t work with others because the only person you can ever rely on is yourself!”

He was not sure where all that anger suddenly comes from but it’s there - and he cannot stop.

“After what happened back then, it felt satisfying. You were trapped, your life was up in the hands of others and there was nothing you could do about it! You were vulnerable, humiliated - It was so fitting and served you right that I had to make fun of your predicament like you did with mine.”

It seems like he is just snarling at this point.

"Go on - give me ONE good reason why I should care that you would've died that day."

[yikes-ajax-thats-sad]

People really think trust issues are just "aww they're scared of love" and it's like bitch no. Trust issues as in I'm deeply in love and the issue is I'm waiting for you break my heart after undergoing periodic abuse in relationships. I'm not scared of love I'm scared of what you'll do with it.

[shiryawashere]

you ever miss your comfort character so bad you gotta go outside about it

[traumagenica]

people claim to understand that progress isn't linear and recovery can take a long time until it becomes personally inconvenient to them and then you're just a stupid lazy bastard to them no matter how you behaved before you became outwardly sick or how hard you've been trying to get better. and i will be mad about that forever

[beatlesandbards]

If your ears have been pierced properly, NO, they will not close up overnight! Once it's healed after the initial piercing, if you're cleaning your ears (even just clearing any buildup with a thumb and finger), you should absolutely not be closing up for at least a week (closer to a week for cartilage piercings, closer to 3 weeks for earlobes). Earrings should not be like retainers.

my friend and I were arguing over this today so please tell me

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.