#complete with Weed Killer

[ourimpavidheroine]

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[i-dont-even-know-by-this-point]

Howl’s Moving Castle (the book) is officially my new obsession thank you and goodbye

[rebelfell]

urgent.

eddie munson x fem!reader

"I want it to be urgent. Like you can't keep your hands off me."

Smut blurb featuring no *actual* smut, in which Eddie is doing his best to help you get over your ex. Cause that's what friends are for. Right? cw: drinking/smoking, references to sex acts.

18+ MDNI 2.8k

“Alright, that’s it. I need another.”

The cushions of Eddie’s well-worn sofa bounced beneath you as he stood, sighing as he headed to the kitchen. His shaggy hair flew up as he glanced back at you with a playful twinkle in his eye that fully betrayed his attempt to sound irate.

“Can’t believe you talked me into watching this shit,” he added with a scoff, indicating the movie flickering on his television screen.

With a quiet giggle, you tucked your legs further up underneath you and squished deeper into your seat. The smile on your face only widened when he returned carrying two new bottles, one of which he passed into your waiting hand.

He’d successfully bribed you into coming over for a long overdue movie night by texting a picture of his fridge that was almost barren except a case of your favorite beer and a couple boxes of day-old pizza captioned, “how can you resist???”

Evidently, you couldn’t. Hence your arrival at his door not even an hour later, swathed in baggy sweats and a giant hoodie without a speck of make-up on your face. Your uniform of late.

“She lives!”

He bellowed in his mad scientist best, practically dragging you through the door to wrap you up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack your bones and made your lungs ache as they attempted to draw air—as if he thought he could wring the sadness out of you like a sponge.

Admittedly, it had been too long since you’d seen him. And not just him, but any of your friends.

For weeks now, you’d been using excuses of work and needing to catch up on laundry or cleaning to avoid facing them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see people. You just knew any attempt to hang out would only lead to questions about your recent break-up.

Questions you didn’t have the answers to, nor the mental capacity to tackle.

Eddie was a safe bet in that regard.

He’d always had what you could only call a morbid curiosity about your love life. If he asked about it, he did so in such a way that it made you feel like he was sort of dreading the answer? Like checking under a shoe to make sure a spider was really dead. You had figured that he of all people wouldn’t press you for too many details.

It was as close to a perfect evening as possible.

The remaining half of the joint you shared still sat smoldering in the ashtray on the coffee table. The two of you basked in the rosy glow of Christmas lights strung up on the walls he had yet to take down even as summer rapidly approached.

Beer and pizza sat in your belly, it and the weed only making the travesty of a bad movie you had basically bullied him into watching all the funnier.

You’d almost, almost, forgotten about your current tragic circumstances. And then…

“We can talk about it, you know,” Eddie said during a quiet stretch of the movie.

He instantly clocked the stiffening of your spine and the tensing of your shoulders he knew had nothing to do with the appearance of the killer following a side character down an alley.

“We don’t have to,” he went on, forcibly keeping his eyes forward like he was talking to the guy on screen now getting gutted, “I’m just saying if you wanted to, we could. Or we can just keep drinking and watching this garbage.”

With a laugh, he indicated the screen again.

The killer completed his deed and the wide shot revealed a painfully obvious dummy version of his victim lying on the ground beneath him. You were also pretty sure a boom mic dipped into frame.

It made you chuckle along with him and you turned your head, finding his doe eyes shining in that annoyingly endearing way of his that never failed to soften you to his whims.

“It wasn’t anything bad-bad,” you muttered, half talking to yourself. “He was just sort of…selfish.”

“Selfish how?” Eddie asked, brow knitting in confusion. “Like he hogged the covers? What?”

“No, like…”

Your cheeks burned as you stared at your hands in your lap, your thumbnail scraping against the pulpy label of your beer bottle that had begun to sweat profusely the longer it went un-drunk.

“Like in bed,” you said at last. “He didn’t ever go down on me, or do much of anything other than jump straight to fucking. And it was always over very…quick. Once he came, it was right back to business as usual. He wouldn’t check in with me or even me ask what I—”

Your voice wavered slightly and you clamped your mouth closed, forcing back the bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth. With a deep and steadying breath, you finished your thought.

“I just didn’t feel like a priority.”

The detached tone was one you’d been working on for weeks. You knew eventually you’d have to crawl out of the hole you’d banished yourself into and when you did, you would have to sound okay with the fact that you’d been burned yet again by another guy you foolishly got your hopes up for.

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. He shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing.

“Did he ever give a reason? I mean, did he…”

Eddie trailed off, not sure what he was getting at.

Because what kind of person had to be told to make their partner a priority? To make them feel important? Beyond just pleasure, beyond just making them come. How could anyone be lucky enough to land you and not do anything and everything they could to make it work?

His eyes bored into the coffee table, unable to lift his head to look you in the eye. It was hard for you to read the expression on his face. It looked like a cocktail of all the different things you had felt during your isolation. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Disgust. Pity.

“We talked about it.” I talked about it, you wanted to say. “But he wasn’t interested in changing, so I said we should end it. And we did.”

Your words seemed to hang in the air after you said them. Eddie stayed silent a few moments longer, seemingly deep in thought. The movie played on, but the words and pictures both sort of blurred into static neither of you were paying much attention to anymore.

“That’s awful,” he said at last. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes darted up, surprised by the softness in his voice. The soothing, calming reassurance thing was much more Nancy’s speed. You knew Eddie could be sweet, but it was always buried under a million layers of sarcasm the same way he hid himself behind the armor of his leather jacket and denim vest. By the look on his face, he’d surprised himself as well.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser,” he grumbled, almost angry. “You were right to dump him.”

“Maybe,” you sighed back, staring down at your lap again. The swishing of Eddie’s curls told you he was shaking his head emphatically.

“There’s no maybe about it,” he insisted, tipping his beer back to take a long swig. “If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you he doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, s’far as I’m concerned.”

The tiniest smile emerged on your lips when you heard the little southern drawl that crept into his voice whenever he got a bit worked up. It makes him sound like his uncle Wayne grumbling about the noisy neighborhood kids or “those damn bureaucrats with their burea-crock-a-shits.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding weakly. “I know it was the right decision and all, I just…it all feels so fucking hopeless. Even if I find another guy who seems nice, who knows if he’ll stay that way? I don’t want to just fuck a bunch of frogs on the off-chance one of them is a prince.”

Eddie snorted, nearly spraying the sip of beer he’d just taken out of his nose as you went on.

“The worst part is I’m so, like…”

You shook your head as you laughed in disbelief, hiding your face with your hand as it flushed with heat at what you had almost blurted out. Were you really about to say this?

His brown eyes danced under arched brows. He smirked, daring you to say it. Fuck it.

“I’m so pent up, my vibrator is gonna file a complaint for hazardous working conditions.”

“Maybe you need a new vibrator,” Eddie suggested. Or someone new behind the wheel.

You shoved his shoulder playfully, wide smiles spreading across both your faces. He grabbed at your wrist, wrestling your hand away and bringing it towards his mouth, feigning like he was going to bite. Squealing giggles erupted out of you as you pulled it back and he gnashed at the air.

Breathless from laughing, you settled back into your seat and inhaled deeply a few times trying to catch your breath. Eddie brought his hands back to his lap and looked down, allowing a small smile at seeing your face light up like it just had.

He’d do anything to see you like that.

“I will say,” you started, absently drawing circles on the arm of the couch, avoiding his gaze as his eyes jumped to your face, “It would be so great to get, like…one good night. You know, just scratch the itch so I can think clearly for once.”

Eddie paused, mulling again.

What he meant to say was…what if it was with someone you knew? Someone familiar you were comfortable with? Someone you knew you could trust to take care of you? What if it was someone you had known a long time, who cared about you and would put you first the way you deserved?

But the words that actually came out were—

“I could do it.”

“You…what?”

He knows that sound. That nervous, breathy little exhale that just came out of you. You blinked at him, stunned into silence as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. Eddie shrugged.

“I’m just saying, you don’t want to fuck a stranger. And I’m certainly not a stranger, so…”

He gestured vaguely at himself with his hands, a goofy little movement that had you rolling your eyes and tssing at him through your teeth.

“Eddie, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid!” he exclaimed, only to stop and reconsider. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. But I'm also being serious. You’re my friend and I wanna help you out. However I can.”

“You seriously think…” You shook your head. “I mean, are you even attracted to me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he groaned, “is that even a question?”

“No, Ed, I’m serious. Really think about it.”

So, Eddie thought about it.

He thought about that two-piece you wore that one sticky-hot summer day when you all piled into he and Argyle’s vans and drove out to Lover’s Lake to swim. He thought about how he had to keep reminding himself not to stare and how his shorts got so uncomfortably tight until he had to fuck off into the trees for ten minutes to take care of himself. And how when he got back, he had endured everyone’s teasing about taking a shit in the woods—because he would much rather they thought that was what he was doing instead of jerking off in front of some voyeuristic squirrel.

He thought about the way your lips wrapped around the end of every joint he’d ever shared with you and how his heart would race when you asked him for a shotgun. He thought about that one time he was sick as shit and had that fever dream about you in a nurses outfit he’d torn off you piece by piece, kissing you all over your body until you were writhing underneath him crying out his name until he woke with a violent jolt and had to throw his sheets in the wash at 4am.

And now not only was he extremely sure he was attracted to you, he also had a significant piece of evidence to back up his claim.

“I think it’s safe to say I am,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat.

Your eyes flitted down to his lap and you inhaled sharply at the sight of his growing bulge and the piss-poor job his thin sweats did of concealing it. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it and you simply had to laugh at the absurdity. If only it hadn’t come out so breathy and nervous…

“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering to a suggestive timbre as he scooted in closer. “Are you attracted to me? Really think about it.”

Your pulse thrummed as your eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. Cutoff sleeves that showed off his taught arms, inked all over with scratcher tattoos. Narrow hips sort of mesmerizing in the way they swiveled whenever he played guitar on stage. Fingers that moved dazzlingly fast over the strings and had made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like for him to play Master of Puppets on your pussy.

It made your mouth flood with saliva, and other wetness gush between your legs.

“What if…we kissed?” he asked slowly, his eyes locked so intently on your lips you could almost feel the heat of his gaze on them. “Just to see? Just in case?”

In case of what?

You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come. You were too breathless as he drew you in.

You’ve seen Eddie kiss girls before.

Whether it was out at a random dive bar after his band played, or some house party in a house you didn’t recognize. You’ve seen how he cups their faces in his hands, large grasp nearly engulfing their entire head. You’ve seen the way his eyes hooded and how that insufferably smug, knowing smile of his turns up the corners of his mouth as he goes in for the kill. You’ve seen how his fingers spread wide to cradle their heads as they gave into him and felt the way it made something stir, however briefly, deep in the pit of your belly.

But you’ve never been that girl. It’s never been your face in his hands or your lips parting, waiting for the touch of his. And now that it’s happening…you don’t have any idea why you waited so long.

His mouth is gentler than you thought it would be, his lips soft and smooth as two pink petals of some flower you can’t name. You can feel the distinctness of their shape moving against your own and can still taste the malt of your favorite beer in his mouth, but the combination makes it into something new—something unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before.

You can just barely feel the tip of his tongue swiping at the entrance of your lips and it’s purely instinctual the way you open up for him to grant him access. He moans softly into your mouth, a plaintive little noise that sets your blood on fire. Suddenly, you’re possessed. Fisting his shirt in your grasp, dragging him with you as you lean backwards and sink deep into the cushions.

“I take it we’ve got the green light?” he asks in a throaty chuckle.

You answer by pulling him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in the hairs that run along the nape of his neck, twisting his curls in your grasp as you tug him back onto your mouth.

His hand wandered downwards, dipping into your sweats to cup your heat over your panties, his two middle fingers stroking at the arousal gathering there. His touch is teasingly light and yet he has you held firmly in his grasp, just enough to have you mewling into his mouth seeking more.

“Tell me exactly how you want it,” he groaned as he peppered hot kisses along the column of your throat, his voice soft but solid. “I want it to be just what you need. Just how you like it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts with his teeth nipping so sweetly at your neck, and all the rings on his fingers pressing into your skin as he squeezed the curve of your waist. And through the haze his touch and teeth and lips created in your head, you managed an answer.

“I…I want it to be urgent. Like you can’t keep your hands off of me,” you sucked in another breath, “Like I’m all you’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie’s head lifted and you tensed just slightly under his reverent gaze. His eyes drifted across your face, all round and glassy and searching, as if he was trying to memorize every inch.

And then, as immediately as he’d paused, he was burying his face in your neck again, body grinding into yours with a newfound sense of desperation as he growled out a single word,

“Done.”

thank you for reading :) love you, mean it!

continued here

[januaryembrs]

impulsive!hotchner!reader (i’m thinking hotchs sister) x spencer reid

as in reader completely ignores the dangers of the job but somehow it always ends up going how she planned for it to go and then there’s hotch and reid completely pissed at her im talking spencer red faced and spewing facts and statistics on what could’ve gone wrong and hotch just backing him up with a frown and crossed arms

THREE'S A CROWD | Spencer Reid x Hotchner!Reader

description: it's hard enough getting your job done when you work with your boyfriend, even harder when your overbearing boss happens to be your brother.

length: 500wds

warnings: mention of house fire + medical side affects of inhaling smoke

“You’re grounded,” 

You baulked, eyes narrowing at your eldest brother where he’d forced you to sit in the back of the ambulance, the medic draping a shock blanket over your shoulders.

“Grounded? Are you kidding me?” You seethed, and your lips pulled into a snarl when he crossed his arms over his chest, his face tipping on furious, “Aaron, I’m not-”

“Don’t Aaron me, you could have died. Do you not realise how irresponsible you were being?” You huffed, rolling your eyes and sitting back with your own arms lacing over your chest, feeling like a fifteen year old all over again being lectured on why you shouldn’t sneak out to parties or roll weed. 

“Thank you, agent, for saving five citizens from a house fire, that was incredibly brave of you. Oh sure, no problem big brother, anything for the job-” You mimicked childishly, your teeth clenching roughly as you felt their stares burning into the side of your head, pun intended. 

“The biggest killer in fires isn’t the flame itself but the smoke inhalation,” Spencer snapped, his lips pursed together just as annoyed as your brother, and your whirled around to match his glare, “Black smoke not only is the cause of thirty thousand people a year alone, but also supercharges existing health problems and can cause life long-chronic inflammation of the lungs. So yes, you were being irresponsible,” 

You gawped at your boyfriend, the two men staring down at you with irritation, and you had to admit your lungs were feeling a little tender from where you’d ran back in the house to help the father drag his wife and children out of the burning building. But you wouldn’t admit that to them, you couldn’t. Because if they were this worried and vexed at you being asymptomatic, you shuddered to think how overbearing they would be if you so much as coughed. 

“Seriously, Spence, you want in my bad books too?” You snipped, but he doubled down, shaking his head and scoffing in a way you’d never heard from him before. Sometimes you wondered if they took tips from one another on how to be the world’s most affectionate pains in your ass. 

“I am serious, just as serious as heart disease, COPD, cardiovascular issues, emphysema, all of which are common long term side effects of black smoke inhalation-” Spencer continued, and you threw your head back with an eye roll and a groan, feeling your chest aching already with where you struggled to keep your breathing even, already knowing you were going to kick yourself when the two of them hit you with the ‘I told you so’. 

“Man, I would hate to be that girl right about now,” Morgan said to Emily, stuffing his hands in his pockets where he watched you get chewed out by Hotch and Reid. 

“Are you kidding me, being yelled at by those two, I’d take facing a house fire all over again,” She murmured, shaking her head as you shoved past the two of them, the three of you squabbling over the fact they insisted you stayed to be checked over by the EMTs, “Kid’s got balls on her, I’ll give her that,” 

[lovebugism]

Eddie x Gareths sisterrrrr????? Like Romeo and Juliet type stuff where Gareth is like my sister is NOT dating you

thanks so much for your request, anon!! i had so much fun writing it!! there isn't much conflict with gareth, but i hope you like it anyway! jealous!eddie x girly!reader (1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Gareth picks you up from the mall at six o’clock sharp.

You say goodbye to your friends, all of them wearing the same tank top and pleated skirt duo you’re in, before getting into the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. You’re dressed too nicely to be sat in such a beaten-up thing. Too pretty for it, too.

“Wanna get something to eat?” the boy asks as he pulls out of the parking lot, talking over the Dio song blaring on the radio.

He’s wearing his usual flannel vest over a tattered Metallica tee. The former is riddled with various vintage pins fitting for a metalhead. Down to his skull necklace, ripped jeans, and dirty sneakers — the two of you couldn’t be more different.

You flip down the visor and use the mirror to put on a swipe of glittery lipgloss. You feel almost naked without it. “Slurpees?” you offer before smacking your mouth to spread the sparkly glaze.

“That’s so not dinner,” Gareth laughs as he shakes his sandy curls. 

You arch a manicured brow in his direction. “Got a better idea?”

“Nope,” he concedes, popping the ‘p.’

He’s got too much of a soft spot for you to deny you of anything. Perks of being the youngest sibling, you suppose.

You feel butterflies fluttering like crazy in your stomach, their wings brushing the edges of your ribcage as he pulls into the gas station — and it’s not because of the $1 Slurpees. Your stepbrother’s best friend, Eddie Munson, usually deals drugs in the back parking lot on weekends. Like the absolute dreamboat he is. 

It’s been days since you last saw him. Six of them, to be exact, but it’s not like you’re counting or anything.

While Gareth waits in line to pay for your drink and his food, you decide to quell your yearning. It’s much more like a hunger, though. Whatever innocent crush you used to have is far more salient now. You miss Eddie like a dinner you didn’t get to eat — noticeably empty, weakened without his smile to bring you back to life.

You round the corner to the back lot and find him flipping through a wad of cash. He leans against the brick wall with one dirty sneaker kicked up against it. Despite the middle of summer head, he hasn’t yet forgone his leather jacket and dark denim jeans duo. He looks killer, as usual — so you could only imagine how he’d look out of them.

When he hears the sound of footsteps scuffing against pavement, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze is halfway hidden beneath his fluffy bangs before he turns to face you wholly. 

He grins at the sight of you, and you fill whole again.

“Hi, Teddy,” you greet with a smile, stained blue from your raspberry Slurpee.

He rises on both feet and tucks the money into the back pocket of his baggy jeans. His head tilts to his shoulder as he looks at you, too cute for his own good. “Whatcha doin’ out here, princess?”

Your stomach flutters at the nickname you’ve heard too many times to count. 

“Came to see you,” you shrug innocently, curling your smile around the straw of your drink.

Eddie beams, brows raising in amusement and cheeks reddening at your answer. He hopes you’re too far away to see his cheeks glowing as pink as they are now. He’d just blame it on the summer heat, anyway. 

“Really?” he lilts, voice light and airy with mirth.

You shrug as you swallow down the fruity slushy. “Gareth brought me for Slurpees.”

“How sweet.”

“Right?” you hum with a blue-tinted smirk, slowing when you finally reach the boy. His weed-tinged, woody musk envelopes you completely — he might as well be embracing you. “Best brother ever.”

Gareth isn’t really your brother, despite how often you call him that. You’re related by marriage, not by blood. You’ve known him your entire life, though, so you figure you might as well be.

Eddie knows this, so he smiles and takes a rather dramatic step back from you. “And that is exactly why I have to stay approximately three feet away from you at all times, princess.”

“Why’s that?” you squint at him.

When you take another step closer, he takes two more back.

“‘Cause he’s been threatening to beat my ass about dating you since we were thirteen.”

A smile quirks the right side of your lips. “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you lilt.

Eddie’s brows raise at the mischievous inflection in your words. This time when you step towards him, he stays in place. “You’d really do that to him? To the ‘best brother ever?’”

You take another daring step towards him. Your chin tilts up to look at him in your ever-shortening proximity. “I’ve done far worse things than think his best friend is hot, Teddy.”

“Yeah?” the boy coos, chocolate eyes dancing with amusement as his chin dips to his chest to peer down at you. He makes the mistake of looking lower — at your breasts in your pretty little tank top and the silver of your stomach showing beneath the hem. He wants so desperately to hold you, despite everything that tells him he shouldn’t. His best friend, namely.

“And what’s that, princess?” the boy croons to you.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you blink innocently up at him, then shrug. “Sorry.”

Eddie knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he is. 

You’re not his, but god, you were so good at making him feel like you were. You were around so often, always so sweet in your way — sometimes, it felt like you really did belong to him. The thought of his girl with someone else makes him feel like puking.

Jealousy radiates from him like steam, palpable enough for you to feel. 

You grin.

“Don’t worry, Teddy,” you singsong, taking another goddamn step closer. Eddie knows he should be taking a thousand more backward, but your chest brushes his torso and he forgets how to walk. “I only have eyes for you.”

The boy swallows through a tightening throat. He nods for a moment, trying to work up the courage to use his voice. He’s scared that it’ll break, and he’ll lose all cool points with you. And he’s the rockstar, the older brother’s best friend — he can’t possibly have that.

“Good to know,” Eddie finally nods.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, though. Might have to find some other metalhead to give me attention.”

Your smile widens when his jaw clenches, honeyed glaze hardening at the thought of you finding someone else. Your heart flutters when you realize that he sees you as his. He’s already been yours for a long, long time.

Gareth calls your name from a distance, muffled and far away. It’s nearly inaudible, but it knocks Eddie from his stupor all the same. “You should go, princess.” 

“My parents usually go to bed around nine. Gareth’s usually sucking in the ceiling by eleven,” you maunder suddenly, wide eyes sparkling with roguishness. “If you park your van a few houses down around midnight, no one will be the wiser…”

“You want me to sneak into your bedroom?” Eddie laughs softly to himself. He hasn’t done that since he was sixteen. He thought he was over chasing girls like that. Turns out, he wasn’t really. Not when it came to you, at least.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a firm nod, lips wrapping around the red straw of your slushy right after.

“And what’s in it for me, huh?”

Truth be told, Eddie couldn’t give a shit. He already knows he’ll be at your house at 12 o’clock sharp, climbing up your trellis like some kind of offbeat Spiderman. He just wants to hear you tell him something, anything — a wish for him to go on for the next several hours while he’s stuck dealing in the heat, thinking about you.

You don’t answer him with words.

You rise on the tips of your toes, holding onto your Slurpee with one hand and using your free one to cup his cheek. You usher the boy softly towards you as you press your mouth to his. And it’s not the most heated kiss in the world or anything — just a languid, honeyed thing that makes your lips lock like they were made to do it.

Eddie’s idling hands rise to your waist. His ringed fingers squeeze the bare skin of your sides as he sighs against your mouth. You taste cold and sweet — like blue raspberry and ice and lipgloss — his savior in this heat. The tip of his nose smushes against the side of yours, desperate to melt with you entirely. He thinks it might be close to possible, having you so close in the sweltering summer evening.

He’s breathless when you pull away from him.

“More of that,” you answer through labored breaths. “And maybe a little extra, if you’re good.”

Eddie doesn’t bother denying his want for you anymore. Fuck it, he’ll just fight his best friend. He can take a punch if he has to, but he’s not sure Gareth could even throw one — especially not at the boy he’s known for practically half his life.

“Your bedroom’s the last window on the light, right?” Eddie asks through rosy, kiss-bitten lips.

“Yeah,” you grin, backing slowly away from him. “I’ll leave my light on.”

He nods until the words catch up with him. “Okay.”

“See you then, Teddy.”

When you turn the corner for the main parking lot, Eddie can finally breathe again. 

The air is noticeably less sweet without you around.

[twstowo]

hihi i would love a ruggie centered fic with a hurt/comfort trope ^^

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: Ruggie is eating dandelions again so Reader tries to make him eat something else.

♡︎ For you anon. *Gives you flowers*

♡︎Warning: Ruggie starving himself

You watched Ruggie from afar as he leaned down on the school field, feeling extremely curious about what was going on. You should have been minding your own business, but the curiosity was killing you. Then you saw him pluck a dandelion out of the ground. Did he like dandelions that much? You didn’t think of Ruggie as a flower guy.

Your eyes widened as you watched him eat it, jaw dropping to the floor. He proceeded to do it again and again and again. You were starting to lose it. What if those had been sprinkled with weed killer? Unable to stand there any longer, you approached him, watching his fluffy ears twitch as you came closer.

"Ruggie Bucchi, by the Seven! What are you doing?" If only you had heard yourself; you sounded like a worried mother for their kid.

"You want one?" There was no way he had the audacity to answer you like that. You were losing it as he laughed at his own words. It wasn’t even funny. Did he not have anything else to eat? Then it occurred to you that Ruggie had some complications related to money. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him eat at the cafeteria. You didn’t want to say anything about it earlier, thinking he might have gotten food before you. Now it all made sense – he had been skipping lunches because he couldn’t afford them and came here to eat dandelions. You sighed, looking around your school bag and bringing out a sandwich you had prepared.

"Take this." You practically pushed the sandwich against his face as he looked up at you with an inquisitory look.

"I’m not in the mood to do any favors." He had to make it about that. Just because everyone in Night Raven College was egotistic didn’t mean you had to also be.

"I don’t want anything from you. I’m just worried, that’s all." You leaned down in front of him with the sandwich still in your hand. It didn’t seem enough for him to trust you, so you lowered the plastic-wrapped food and sat down on the grass field. "I’m not joking when I say that, Ruggie." You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped with those words. He looked at you softly but still unsure if he should open up to you. He had been living likes this since he was a kid, eating scraps that he found around in the street, starving for days and days. Then he seemed puzzled when you started to unwrap the bread, breaking it in two pieces with your hands and handing one of them to him.

"What if we share it?" He had been so close to passing out from that look you gave him while sharing your food. He knew you were also facing a tough financial situation, and yet, you still came to help him out when you could have kept it to yourself. Ruggie would have never done that. You were being so selfless, and he was glad because he loved this kind side of yours. He only wished you’d keep it to yourself, as he feared others would take advantage of you.

"Fine." He gave you a silly laugh as he took the half of the sandwich and started eating it. Not surprisingly, he finished it extremely fast as he had been completely starving.

"Next time, meet me at Ramshackles. I could totally make some donuts for the two of us." Couldn’t you have said anything else? Ruggie almost turned into a puddle as he heard your words. You just made him feel so weirdly loved. Not that he disliked it, in fact, he wished every day was like this.

[nadiajustbe]

Sophie's denial is literally the best part of the book because in 300+ pages she:

a) Managed to convince herself that the smile Howl was using was a special smile that he used specifically to attract women. And that's the only reason she "fell" for it.

b) Listed absolutely everyone around, from people to dogs, as the reason for her recent anger, but didn't mention the real reason, which she knew perfectly well was Howl visiting ms. Angorian.

c) Describied Howl's beauty in one line with insults in his direction, and thought it was completely normal.

d) Sewed a suit for him and accidentally enchanted it to attract women, them began to explain any positive feelings towards him with this.

e) Was ready to literally destroy the garden when it turned out that the suit was not the case and so couldn't blame her emotions on one from now on.

f) Created a murderous weed killer among her jealousy and specific dislike for lilies. Still couldn't explain it to herself.

g) Almost killed that one crazy daredevil who decided to come and tell her that she's actually down for him pretty bad with it.

h) Went so far into her denial that the thought that the person she was in love with did not love her was a relief for her because it meant that nothing would change and she could continue to be in it.

i) Almost killed the above-mentioned person with the above-mentioned weed killer because she did not want to face her own feelings And because she chose murder.

j) Pushed a person out the door out of sheer jealousy. Still didn't do what she was expected to do, though.

k) When her own crush on Howl finally started to dawn on her, she decided to go save the person she thought he was in love with. He very obviously wasn't.

l) And, in the end, continued to think so even when Howl came to save HER in an absolutely terrible state, almost afraid of the thought that his appearance was a sign of true love.

What a woman.

[whateverloomis]

🩸Red🩸 >> Poly!Ghost face x Killer!Reader || Scream 1996

Part 2 >> Part 3

About: While the Casey Becker and Steve Orth killings were taking place, a third kill happened as well... Billy Loomis and Stu Macher can't risk having someone else around that could ruin their goal of killing Sidney Prescott. What happens when all 3 killers get a little bit too close?

Warnings: Eventual SMUT, cheating, making out, smoking (weed,) reader is AFAB, reader is a killer, reader is short, reader is alt and has tattoos + piercings, Randy is a bitch (lol,) revised June'24

Reader: They/them pronouns that are highlighted in bold so it's easy to identify | AFAB

Word count: 2k

-

Narrator:

While the Casey Becker and Steve Orth killings were taking place, a third kill happened as well...

YN and Katherine had been friends since grade school and later on Casey joined, forming a tight 3 friend group. They'd go out together every weekend, sleep over and talk about their crushes.

When Casey started dating Steve she became distant from YN and Katherine which elicited some tension between the three. Everything felt fake. From conversations to hanging out.

As the months went by, Katherine started to distance herself from YN without any indication of anything happening between the two. It affected YN emotionally. The loneliness grew as the days went by and YN kept repeating conversation after conversation mentally to figure out what went wrong with Katherine. Then, she stopped communicating with YN completely.

One night YN went shopping alone to clear their head and walk around without the risk of encountering anyone from campus, since the students usually went to the town mall during the day.

They walked along one of the strips of the mall that lead to one of the courtyards where people would sit and relax while being under the clear night sky.

YN bought their favorite drink as a treat and walked along the sidewalk, looking for a nice spot to sit and enjoy their own company.

When YN finally found a spot, they heard a familiar laughter. It was Katherine. She walked out of a coffee shop that was near YN's chosen spot with Steve and kissed him, followed by a hug. YN gasped loud enough to catch Katherines attention. They made eye contact and Katherine gave YN the meanest look she could.

Something snapped in them that day. Not only Katherine completely discarded YN from her life, but she was betraying Casey, and on top of that Steve was being unfaithful to Casey, not to mention that he was the reason why the friend group got separated in the first place.

That's why YN went to Katherines house at night the next day. That's why YN hid behind the bushes next to her room with a red ghostface mask decorated with small horns to conceal their face. Why they called Katherine to serve as a distraction before bashing the bedroom window with a large stone and grabbed Katherine from behind, slicing her throat open and letting her bleed to death.

•

"YN? Helloooo" You heard Tatum practically scream at you. Finally snapping out of your thoughts, you shook your head and processed what she said.

"Casey and Steve too?" You asked, shock written all over your face. Tatum was slowly becoming your friend ever since she noticed you and your (ex) friends were parting. You were all in the cheerleading team and word got around pretty quick. By the day of the shocking news, you guys were officially friends. However, you didn't want to get attached, so there was still a good amount of distance when it came to trust from your part.

As the days went by, you became closer to her friend group as well, mainly because Randy kept conspiring about you being the main suspect of the group because you were the new one.

"All I'm saying is it's usually the least expected person! Plus, they dress in all black and, chains... tattoos, and scary stuff." Randy said and you scoffed, giving him an annoyed look. "I'm literally right here asshole. Plus, that has nothing to do with being a killer."

"Don't get me wrong, you're hot but c'mon YN!" - "Man fuck off! You're being a real dick head." Stu interrupted and you smiled at Randy sarcastically.

"Okay fine, i'll drop it... I've got my eye on you though." - "Randy, if you have a little crush on YN I don't think insulting them will get you anywhere." Billy interjected and everyone laughed except for the boy being called out.

"Shut up Billy! I don't have a crush it's ju-" - "Give it a rest already, YN is not the killer." Tatum said and scoffed.

Sidney seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, always playing the victim card when other people were getting hurt too. More than her. Yeah, you might've been the cause of some of the damage but it was still annoying.

She shifted between Billy's legs uncomfortably and he gave her a subtle glare, exactly like you did before making eye contact with him. He averted your gaze quicker than you did his and you bit your lip in thought. He always seemed mysterious. The quiet type. Hot bad boy that swept anyone off their feet without even trying, but you knew best. You knew he wasn't innocent in this whole situation and you got the feeling that he knew you were part of it too. You and Billy thought alike, you were almost sure of it, but you had to get close to him. The last thing you needed was someone ratting you out to get away with possible murder.

•

Exiting out of the classroom, the day was finally over. You walked along the hallway to leave your books in your locker, but before getting there you spotted Billy opening his. You took a deep breath and put on your best smile before approaching him.

"Hey Billy!, have you seem Tatum?" You asked, sounding sweet as ever and he looked at you from head to toe. "Mm, I think she's still in class. Stu's supposed to meet me here with her s-" - "Nice boots shorty." Stu said, sticking his tongue out at you, interrupting Billy by placing his hands on his shoulders and giving him a squeeze that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You were wearing black platform knee high boots that barely did anything to help your height when it came to being next to Billy and Stu, but they were cute shoes nonetheless so that was a win.

"Yeah, thank's. Where's Tatum?" You asked Stu this time and he shrugged. "Mm I don't know man, she said Sidney needed a ride home so I think she left."

Of course she did. You guys weren't nearly as close as she was with Sidney, but she could've at least met you after class.

You rolled your eyes, trying to seem playful before answering; "Whatever, see you around losers."

Billy smirked at your little pet name and Stu just laughed annoyingly loud.

"You really think it was them man? I mean, look at that shorty with the cute personality-" - "It's an act, Stu. Can't you see?" The boys looked at you from head to toe at a distance, impossible to look away with that incredible body of yours. "We need to get closer, it's the only way." Billy said and Stu chuckled; "Or maybe you just want to tap that. I know I would." - "Can't you be serious for one second?! We can't risk someone exposing us just to get away with murder, ok?!" Billy whisper screamed while looking around to make sure nobody was too close to hear him. Even if Stu was right about Billy being undeniably attracted to you, he couldn't let that get in the way.

•

You were stressed, annoyed and not having it with Tatum leaving with Sidney and not meeting you after class, so you decided to go to your usual smoke spot to exhale the stress away. Arriving at the colleges bleachers, you sat underneath them in a secluded corner and pulled out the pipe from your bag along with already ground weed and a lighter.

After preparing everything, you placed the tip of the pipe against your mouth and lit the substance, taking a deep inhale before exhaling slowly and closing your eyes, feeling the relaxing effects wash over your body.

...

Twenty minutes went by and you were already taking your third hit, needing to numb yourself a bit before walking to your dorm. While you breathed in the smoke, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around you saw that it was Billy approaching. You got startled and the smoke went deeper into your lungs than it should've, instantly sending you into a coughing fit.

"Woah there! Didn't mean to scare you." He said, chuckling before sitting down in front of you. You coughed a few more times before catching your breath and looked at him, bursting into laughter. He couldn't help but smile at your state and lift an eyebrow.

"Is that shit that good?" Billy asked and you offered him some. "Find out for yourself." You said and he took a big hit, having a mini coughing fit himself before the effects took over.

•

A few more hits later and hours of talking to each other you were starting to take a liking to Billy. He was funny and sweet. His personality really blossomed with the effects of the weed and it was easy to let go with him. Inevitably, you guys started to talk about theories related to the murders and made fun of Randy for being a nerd when it came to horror movies, not to mention taking the rules so seriously.

"I mean, it's kinda stupid that if you're a virgin you can't get killed. That's like, some voodoo shit or something." You said, not making much sense.

"How did you even draw that conclusion?" Billy asked and smirked at your incoherent reasoning.

"I don't know! Like, it would make more sense if you kissed the killer or something and you instantly become a subject." You said, trying to make some sense of your words but you knew it didn't.

"You're not even thinking at this point." - "No, I'm not." You instantly answered and giggled, a rare occurrence for you. Billy couldn't help but find it cute and contradicting given your dark appearance.

"Hm, we're both suspects so... What if we kissed and end up being killers? Does that cancel it out or something?" Billy asked. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You paused for a moment, trying to make sense and figure out what he was implying. "Mm, I don't know, m-" - "You wanna find out?" He said suddenly, smirking.

Did he know you were responsible for one of the killings or was he just trying to make out because he was high and not thinking?

"Mm, tempting... But you have a girl, so." - "But you want to." He countered, sitting next to you, his face inches away from yours.

"I mean... Kinda..." You admitted, no filter whatsoever. Billy bit his bottom lip and scanned your face for any sign of rejection as he leaned in slowly. "Sid doesn't need to know..." He whispered and you felt him pull you in with his stare. Gosh, he was magnetic and you couldn't resist.

You decided to make a bold move and bit his bottom lip softly, eliciting a chuckle from his part.

Your lips touched and it was over. You moved in unison and played with Billy's tongue, brushing yours against his and softly moaned into his mouth. How did you even end up in that situation? It all happened so fast, but you couldn't pull away.

"You're a freaky one, huh?" He whispered and you laughed softly, standing up and straddling him. Billy immediately placed his hands on your hips and squeezed the flesh. You continued kissing and biting each other. Moaning and groaning quietly as you ground your hips against his crotch. Billy could've come right then and there with the sight of your tits bouncing while you moved against him.

You could've fucked him at that moment without a care, but before things could escalate, you heard footsteps.

Climbing off his lap and fixing yourselves, you moved far enough so it didn't seem like anything was happening.

Suddenly, Stu peaked under the bleachers and laughed; "I thought I smelled pot!"

You couldn't help but laugh along with him and offer some to the boy. That day got interesting real quick, and you couldn't deny that you loved every second of it.

[jadeddangel]

Creepypast & Marble Hornets headcannons:

Jeff the Killer:

100% sneaks into your house/ room just to wake you up randomly to spook you

If he ever took you on a date it would 100% be to the cheapest cinema in town cause my man's is broke

Your the breadwinner, you can make $2 a month and still be the breadwinner

He buys axe body spray and sags his jeans like a middle school boy and you can't convince me otherwise

Opened a nesquick Powdered milk tub with a table saw cause he couldn't get him open

Doesn't know how to undo child proof locks on meds no matter how many times you explain it to him

"No Jeff your not listening. Press down and then turn it," your voice scolded

"I'm trying! Damn you woman!!" Jeff yelled back

Yea, he never opened the jar right

Masky:

It started with you and Tim dating and then when you met masky you trying getting to know him

He ignores you at first, more focused on doing his job then dealing with his other half's lover

He's smart, he'll pick locks open jars and complete puzzles in no time flat

He doesn't make money but Tim does so indirectly he's the breadwinner

He'll start hanging out with you after getting tired of sleeping on the downstairs couch

He's not nice, like at all, he's very blunt and when it comes to any type of criticism, constructive or not, he's pointing out every miniscule flaw

Don't bother lying to him, he can see right through it and it pisses him off

It doesn't matter your gender or your sex. He's turning around when you change any form of your clothes. He's big on privacy

"Masky? C'mon masky, it's just a sweater you don't have to turn. I'm wearing a shirt underneath, " you sighed, pulling your sweater off

Masky shook his head. "I don't care sometimes you don't wear a shirt under them, and i don't wanna see your nipples," masky spoke bluntly

Yeaaaa, if you can't tell your sex life is totally (not) amazing with man

Tim:

As I said before Tim has a job, he Linda needs it to pay for his smoking habits

Speaking of smoking, he hates when you do any kind of drugs, he doesn't want you to end up like he did

He's surprising clingy behind closed doors and really likes being your little spoon

He constantly takes showers and cleans your shared home, even if no one except for you, him and masky will see it.

He has this bad habit of just buying whatever he craves, so when he goes to the store, expect the bill to be rather high

As I said before he's clingy behind closed doors but when it comes to pda the most he'll do is lock your pinkies together

"Tim, pleaseeeee I just wanna hold your hand! Just five minutes, and if you don't like it, you don't have to keep holding my hand. " You tried to bargain

Tim sighed "fine fine but you're giving me your box of cigarettes. Don't think I didn't smell them on you"

He has a sharp nose, so there's no point in trying to hide things from him

Hoodie:

Hoodie was beyond confused when he first met you, he had a whole "who what when where why?" Moment

You and brain both pay for everything so there's not really a breadwinner

Hoodie is rather quiet, it's not because he's awkward or shy, he just has nothing to say

Hoodie Hates coffee, he's more of a tea or energy drink guy

I hate to say this(no I dont), but he's a stoner, he hates all vape or smoking products except for weed

He usually sticks to weed vapes since it's less work and he can be a bit lazy when it comes to that

I mean his hygiene is ok he doesn't really shave or trim any thing but his beard but yknow he do him

Speaking of , he leaves his beard shavings all over the sink and leaves the toilet seat up

"HOODIE! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE NOW" You shouted to get the man's attention

Hoodie walked in. "What?" He said monotonely

You pointed at the sink and then the toilet "pick up your fucking mess!!"

Hoodie shook his head "Nah I'm good. Thanks for the offer, though. "

You would probably try and beat him up if he couldn't just wollop our ass

Brian:

He's such a sweet boy,it like he's made out of cotton candy

He's mostly did cleaning and cooking on top of his job but after switching back from hoodie, he's out of commission for like a week

He picks up after himself, and does his own laundry and there's never beard trimmings in the sink

He occasionally forgets to put the toilet seat down but it's rather rare

He's not too clingy but he does cuddle up sometimes

HES A FUCKING FURNACE WHEN HE SLEEPS

"Brian pleaseee get off!! It's the middle of summer! It's too hot to be cuddling" you huffed sleepily

"Shhh just let me hold you.." Brian muttered

Ticci Toby:

Your the breadwinner. Period

You think this man has a job? Hah funny

He hates when he tics especially when you are trying to have intimate moments together

You guys have to be silly during sex especially when he has a verbal tic and just yells bird

"Fuck toby right there~" you moaned out holding onto his shoulders tightly

"I'm so c-*whistles* shit sorry~" toby moaned out a bit embarrassed

"Toby it's ok it's normal~.." you muttered a bit trying to keep your voice even

Toby nodded "fuck I lov-Birds!" Toby shouted

You both looked at eachother before bursting out laughing just holding eachother close

Overall aside from Toby's horrible moodswings at times and his "work" you guys have a pretty helpful relationship

Slenderman:

No, Just no

This man is toxic asf when you guys first meet, definitely a manipulator

He tones it down after a bit but still gaslights you into getting what he wants

When he gets angry, please down run from him- he will track you down and may or may not resort to physical violence to get you to learn your lesson

If you ask about the missing children he WILL gaslight you into thinking that's he's told you before and it hurts that you forgot and won't tell you again

Sex? What sex? You think he would let you even get close enought to see that shit happen hah very funny

"Slenderman? Cmon I'm sorry you know I didn't mean to hurt you.." you muttered softly

"No. I already told you, and you forgot.. it is insensitive of you and unwise of me to tell you again, " he responded through your mind. And though he doesn't have eyes, you could only assume he was glaring

He's not healthy for you, but you've got yourself into this for life and there's only 1 way to get out

Eyeless jack:

Just like Jeff he'll sneak into your room

You literally can't get rid of him

He won't talk or anything, just stand and stares

He doesn't cuddle and he barely touches you

He definitely tried to offer you a kidney as a way of telling you he appreciates you

No hygiene whatsoever, he doesn't shave and it takes a month before you even get him to shower

He mostly just grumbles and groans to let you know he understands what your saying

He's really smart, puzzles, locks ,and riddles are no match for him

He's blunt, when he does talk it's rare, bit it's honest and unfiltered

You guys barely have sex and honestly you've probably never seen his face

"Jack, please!! I just wanna see your face, " you whined, laying yourself over his lap

"I said no, and if you keep asking, I'll eat you. Literally, " Jack retorted

Yeaaaa he meant it literally and you could tell

[altarrot]

LAMB TO SLAUGHTER.

ao3 issue.

synopsis: a malevolent enemy resides in the dead depths of the forest during dusk, as the warnings come and go through, but said enemy was never anticipated to be so enrapturing. authors note: making my first fic on tumblr on the predator and prey trope because like... why not

[ ♡ ] pairing: killer!simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader

[ ♡ ] genre: smut, sexual content

[ ♡ ] warnings: unprotected sex, innocence kink, soft!mean!ghost, slight taunting, loss of virginity, overstimulation, mild degradation, pet-names, dirty talk, corruption kink, age difference, oral sex (fem!receiving), sex in a forest, slight knife-play, slight breeding kink, possessive sex.

PART 1/2 | PART 2

Living in a small, unpopulated town; there was no doubt that scandals got around through other people’s mouths easily, including potential myths. Serial killers. Sightings of extraterrestrial entities. A great majority of it was falsehood and just something to possess a rise out of the community. Although, serial killer scandals were no joke compared to entities; which is what has been circulating throughout the small town for the past couple of weeks, some supposed serial killer inhabiting the local forest.

Despite there being masses of locals and officers released on a search into the forest on a daily, there was no success in locating the whereabouts of this fallacy. Worrisome spread like a plague and increased in size by each passing day, like some sort of rise of a satanic panic. Your parents, already had been plagued by this rising anxiety, warns you of staying inside all day, keeping the doors nailed shut. A single hunting rifle was granted to you, but never used; guns were something that you’ve never learnt to use, even though your father was a huge thing on hunting. (Even when you were a little girl, you declined the offer of hunting).

Of course, you would be like the average human caught in the spider’s web of this situation; terrified, fearing for life — but you just weren’t. You were more curious than anything, completely, and utterly curious to the murderer.

So at the stroke of midnight, your parents secured in their beds with rifles at their bed-side tables, you undid the lock of the back door — pulling the wooden panel open by the knob, and allowing yourself to be exposed to the outside. Conveniently, your house was pin-pointed right where the forest was, it was practically apart of your backyard. You were hesitant at first sight, trembling and enthralled by hesitance, but you soon gave it up.

Your blood ran cold in your veins as you made your steps down the porch steps, through the fielded weeds, and into the sea of forest. The more steps you took, the deeper you found yourself in the vast region of darkness, leaves of the overhead trees with little cracks of your only source of light; a faint glow of moonlight in which hung from further than the trees. Your surroundings were silent except the crunch of a fallen tree branch or an unusually heavy breath that drew from your mouth, the atmosphere was unnerving.

It was completely idiotic of you to venture out into serial-killer territory with only a simply, frilly dress of lace clothing your body from the wind. A compact switchblade rests in your fist, now noticed with a dull blade but you considered it decent enough to stab a person out of self-defense. Taking notice, your heartbeat hammers in your chest more irregularly. It swells and puffs up, making it harder to breathe in some ways, though you push through and squint your eyes at the shadows to push on.

Stupid. Stupid and brainless is what you were. You had no purpose in even proceeding with a haphazard goal. Maybe it was because you wanted to prove some bravery, make up for the times you were too coward to spend your childhood hunting and touching animal carcasses. Bravery was something you lacked and wanted to prove as something you could change, something that could be converted into something useful.

Yet, you pursued your hollow journey, swearing to yourself that you could feel eyes scorching — stalking every single one of your movements. The fictitious thought got a rise of goosebumps lining up your arms, beads of sweat forming at your skin. Although, you convinced yourself none of it was real; just another fragment of your imagination, something to frighten you to death. You drift further away into the area of woods, your curiosity striving to pave its away through your fears.

Your jaw clenches at an abrupt sound from behind. It’s a combination of crunching on dead twigs and a pale breathing — though, you’re not really sure if there was an accompanied breathing or if it was just a factor of fear acting up. You swear you’re on your last bit of sanity, about to stumble away and lose your mind right in the middle of a horrific-looking forest.

Unfortunately, there was no fear factor acting up, and it was proven when the crunch of leaves surge in speed right up the spine behind you. You’re granted no time to make a break for it or even react when a blade is pressed into the pulsing bunch of your neck, body staggering right into a larger, more towering one.

As you look up into the upper-half of the obscured silhouette, you can only make out two baths of darkened eyes which were highlighted in the luminesce of the moon. He had eyes without a face, veiled with a balaclava imprinted with features of a skull, and pale skin smeared with blotches of tar-like paint around the eyes. Edgy, but in this scenario with a blade to your neck, horrifying. You struggle to release from the man’s grasp but it’s no use when he’s made up of pure muscle, strength at levels of insanity.

“What’s a sweet, little girl doing out here at midnight?” his voice is raspy, deepened with an accent. Your heartbeat is set at severe rates.

The man holds you against him; one of his brawny arms is wrapped fully around your chest while the other is occupied with the knife. He’s a monster, you thought, barbaric for the sake of blood and other violent needs. Splatters of dried blood are visible through the holes of his mask on his skin, some of the droplets not so visible on the blacks of the mask. You pause with your struggles, stiff with the only gestures of your up-and-down chest.

“Are you going to kill me?” your words come out as an unexpected shushed whine.

“Kill you?” he said, with an almost chuckle, “Why would I bring myself to kill such a pretty thing like you?”

Relief swamps your nervous system, nearly calmed with his response. You were too naive, you gave it too quickly to facile words that could easily be frauds of the real, brutal thing. Turning back and escaping was certainly an option; it wasn’t an easy one but there could be some figured way to achieve it. However some buried, sadistic identity was telling you to stay with him — let him have his way with you, deprive you of your innocence, be something useful and obedient.

Your survival instincts were dropping like dead flies, that sadistic identity dominating those instincts. Strangely enough, you were establishing some sort of comfort in him, some portion to fill in the complete void of desolation. A pre-arousal starts to stain your cunt, panties sticky, and dressed thighs feeling limp about to give out. His breathing is heavier, as if he’s as desperate as you were, his posture adjusts. Now, you’re straight stood against his chest, eyes half-lidded and arousal felt between your inner thighs.

There’s a pulsating, overwhelming beat at your cunt; heat rushing to your face and body overturned in a fever-ish trance. He resumes with sharing a strict eye contact with you, taking notice of your doe eyes which twitched every so often.

“Your burning up, honey,” he said, observing your bare skin which smoldered under his gloved hands, “Wonder why.”

You nod your head in a disagreeing motion, not wanting to surrender to your repressed feelings, but you had a gut feeling he could tell; a fusion of sexual need, desperation, and dread which fogged in your two eyes. There wasn’t even an effort to try and hide it away from him, you just let it exhibit out like some showcase to the public eye.

“Can’t even tell me why, it’s because you’re needy, huh? Your panties all stained and sticky just because of me, getting off at knife-point.” he said, taunting how vulnerable you appeared underneath him, “You just want me to ruin this little pussy, don’t you? Needed someone to please your sticky cunt?”

God, you can’t even fight back, not at this point.

Whimpers fall from your lips like the leaves of the trees, lips red and wounded from constantly biting at them. Your eyes brim with small tears, edging to fall from position, “Please, need it so bad…”

“Shh, don’t worry, angel.” he coos, moving in sync with you towards a tree stump; pinning you to the object with the knife now tucked in his jeans. He gropes at your breasts through the flimsy fabric before hooking your thighs in a hold, lowering himself to his knees as he places your legs on his shoulders. “Is this what you want, love? Want me to make your tight pussy feel all better?”

Bobbing your head, you motion in agreement and mumble inaudible pleads. He smirks to himself behind the mask in satisfaction, bundling up the skirt of your dress till your soft panties — all sticky with arousal down your thighs — were exposed to the cold public. His thumb massages at the wet stain at the front of your panties, hips swaying in a poor effort to obey the press of the digit. He uses his empty fingers to clasp under the waistband of the cloth, dragging it down the two limbs you stood on, and pooling it down at your ankles.

You find yourself shivering on your laid back; lower-half entirely bare and only protected in a rip-able piece of dress. Your folds seem to gleam along with the natural source of the moon, cunt clenching around in vain.

“Fuck, honey, I’m going to ruin your pretty cunt so bad.” he said, his fingers branding touch into your thighs, bottom-half of his face exposed to pink lips and pale skin. “Ghost.”

“Huh?” you ask, absent-mindedly, astray.

“My name. Call me that when I ruin you.”

Ghost then wraps his naked lips around your cunt with no more words, sucking at the flesh, savoring the sweet taste. Your body convulses for a second before being nailed down to the wood of the stump, physically feeling yourself being ruined by the town’s most wanted. Squirming, releasing a variety of whines into the atmosphere. His fingers soon join the ministrations of his mouth, the two fingers pumping up inside of you, sending you into a condition of euphoria with the immense pressure.

Throwing your head back over the edge of the stump, you spread your legs further apart for him, bathing in the nature of his fingers and mouth smacking at your cunt at the same time. You grip at the top of his mask, the black cloth stretching with elasticity. A symphony of angelic, erotic sounds hum from your lips as his mouth gives pleasure at your clit. Ghost grunts occasionally, muffled right into your delicate features. A strain in your stomach warns of your closing orgasm.

Your hips practically ride his tongue in careless movements; doing so until the tension in your stomach climbed up steep heights until it reached the top, letting go — fucked-out and overtook with euphoria while his fingers thrusted through your sensitive cunt.

“Ghost…”

“That’s a good girl, so good,” Ghost said, extracting his fingers and lapping at the arousal that stained them. “All nice and stretched out for me, yeah? You want me to fuck up this innocent pussy?”

“Please,” you whimper, narrowing your eyes through the absence of light to peer at him, eyes doe and watery — unknown to what you were pleading to.

“Don’t worry about it, doll,” he stated, “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’ll breed your cunt, ruin you for every other man,” Ghost strokes your face with a gentle significance, “Would you like that?”

You swipe your tongue across a bitten lower lip. “Want that, I’ll be all yours, tear me apart.”

“That’s right, angel,” he said with a sharp breath, hands of veins coming to unfasten the belt that held up his jeans, the combination of his pants and briefs sliding to his ankles; his cock was erect, rigid right against the black tactical jacket he wore. “You’re all mine, and I’ll ravage you as much as I want.”

Empty-headed, you extended both your arms out to his face, caressing it, as you rammed your own lips into his. He tasted of a faint tea, and flavors of vulgar nature, he was heaven. His hands rest at either side of your waist while yours rest at his divided face — the lips of a murderer on yours were so immorally pleasant to hunger at. With an inclined figure over your stow figure, he parts his lips from yours and composes himself right between your thighs, fingers holding down onto the skin.

Ghost pushed lined his cock with the entrance of your cunt; he sheathes himself into you in a quick, single move of his hips. You whine, clenching around him in fluttering flickers, taking the time where he wasn’t moving to give a try at adjusting to both his length and bulk. His eyes stalk into your body, keeping them pinned on you as he starts off slowly, growing to be increasingly fast.

“That’s it, you’re okay, love,” he breathes out, “Keep clenching around my cock, just like that.’

You’re moaning his name like a verse. The blends of skin-on-skin, masculine grunting, and feminine moans were like a pitch-perfect harmony of raw lascivious.

“So angelic, baby, such a pure little thing.” Ghost grunts, “Such a whore for my cock, she likes having her sloppy cunt fucked by a killer, doesn’t she?”

You rapidly nod, tears streaming in rivers across your cheeks, down your neck. Having him inside you was the most divine thing you could’ve experienced, so cherish-able and unforgettable. He was some kind of angelic entity, casted by the looks of demonic circumstances, much like Lucifer. His lips meet at the fleshy base of your neck, teeth stabbing at the skin, soothing over the impacted wounds with the muscle of his tongue.

His thrusts are near-animalistic, pounding through your walls like a starved man, feeling him right at your cervix. You never thought you could get so defenseless, so yearning for a man of his nature. Some blood stains the skin of his cock, a symbol of loss, no longer the pure he says you are. But that could only mean you truly did belong to him.

“You going to let me come inside you, honey?” he asks, “You’ll never be alone again, I’ll always be a reminder of the first man you’ve fucked.”

“Yes!” you squeal, “Come inside me, make me yours.”

And with a few more stinging, godlike thrusts, the stance of his hips are pressed right up against your swollen cunt, the warmth of his seed felt splattering your walls — right as deep to your cervix. He remains in place, slouched over and heavy-breathed, you’re grasping at the chances of air into your lungs. You feel him twitch inside of your overstimulated cunt, earning him a small number of additional whines from your vocal chords.

Some of his come, along with your arousal, leaks out you and stains your inner thighs in a white; his cock is painted in the same shade. You’re both left to sound like panting dogs. (Having fucked like two creatures out in the wilderness, which was, substantially, exactly that.)

Ghost parts away, a last whine trailing off at the loss of him making you feel so full. His torso tugs with more breaths that were in progress of being caught; you’re giving him a latent smile — one of a drunk’s, no teeth bared, just lines of your lips. It’s abnormal. You weren’t supposed to show a man of homicide such endearment, passiveness — unless under the influence of some kind of Stockholm Syndrome — that was impossible, only having met him as of tonight.

“Such a pretty girl,” he said, reaching for back for the knife and sliding the blade in a caressing motion at the side of your face, “Like a lamb — I’m so obsessed with you.”

With his knife, handled in a solid fist, embracing your flesh — littered with imprints of your face pressing into the bark of the stump — he drew the metal of the blade to your collarbone. Some of the bone stuck out like an overgrown root in the ground, most of it just plain skin. You’re stuck in a vision of ecstasy, left incompetent at the hands of him; so all you really can do is grant him the consent of him to touch you, wound you up, kill you, earn up to his title.

A shiver crawls up your spine when the edge comes into contact with your cold, nude skin. Fear drowns in your cold veins, awaiting the possible death that could send you lifeless in a matter of seconds.

But to your own revelation, there is no flash of red, or a blistering puncture of skin in the contour of his weapon — only a minimal blistering. When you angle your head to look for the source of the slight burn, there’s a crimson puncture right above your breasts, deep enough to bleed; shallow enough to not cut at the bone or exhaust blood to the point of inevitable death. Gaping up at him through your languid sights, a rare tenderness occupies his distinct eyes; almost humane, incapable of brutality. He’s still situated between your spread thighs which are support at his waist, the material of his jacket sticking to your sweat-lustered skin.

There’s a strange intimacy shared between the both of you; with his body found in position between your thighs and hands — that abandoned the knife back into his pocket — latching themselves at each side of your hips. His fingers were pressed in a bruising, modest touch. As Ghost inclined himself back down your body, his visible lips press kisses to your forehead that drifted and continued on at your neck. You release a noise from your chest, circling your arms around his chest in a sort of hug, a hand brought up to his head and guiding him to your lips instead — deepening out a kiss that was more passionate, messier than before.

“You should’ve killed me, like all the others.” you confess at his lips.

He gathers one last taste of you before pulling away, still kept close and leaned down. Silent, he observes you and the confession which lingered in the air, possibly choosing wisely on how to answer it.

“You’re special,” he states, “Angelic, docile — nothing that I’ve come across before.”

[elljayvee]

today's topic: that fucker RoundUp

It's time for more Don't Believe Everything You Read with me, elljayvee!

A friend encountered this the other day: 

This contains a lot of false information and should not be spread around as true. It's scaremongering in the first half and almost entirely wrong in the second half.

I will state my credentials and biases up front: I am an inactive Penn State Master Gardener (which means I have all the education and credentials, but am not currently an active volunteer), I have a permaculture design certificate and an active permaculture garden on my property, and I'm an agriculture & food systems researcher. I also fucking hate RoundUp (aka glyphosate), which I think is very bad, especially at industrial scales. I pretty much think all agricultural inputs have serious problems at industrial scales; RoundUp isn't special. In general, and particularly for home-scale or small-scale ag use, I prefer non-chemical controls; in my own garden I use manual control for all weeds except for poison ivy and tree of heaven, for which I use 2,4-D foliar herbicide. 2,4-D is also pretty nasty stuff, but I use it because unlike RoundUp it's very widespread in my environment already -- some of my neighbors have their lawns sprayed and that's what the lawn companies use. Me spraying a stray tree of heaven once a year isn't even a drop in the 2,4-D bucket of the block. 

Let us take these pieces of Wrong Information from back to front!

Dish soap: people love dish soap in the garden. Just love it. There's mixed evidence on what it can do in the garden but it's completely ineffective against weeds -- the reason it's so popular in garden applications is that it doesn't harm plants. How is something that doesn't harm plants going to be good weed control? Answer: it isn't. It does nothing against weeds. The one thing dish soap is proven to be good at is assisting with aphid control -- the best aphid control is manual/physical control, like blasting aphids off plants with water, and dish soap assists with that and also seems to do some damage to the aphid. Any other pest control involving "soap" almost certainly means "insecticidal soap", not dish soap. 

Takeaway: Unless you're trying to control aphids, don't use dish soap in the garden. (And make sure it's dish SOAP, not a detergeant. In the US, original Dawn is the go-to.) For anything but aphid control, you're just wasting soap.

Salt: No. This is bad. It will definitely help kill some weeds, but it's a bad idea. Don't put extra salt into soil. It's bad for the soil and for the inhabitants of soil; it's bad for water. One cup of salt isn't going to kill a river or a stream or whatever but if you're worried about killing animals, let's just say that poor innocent things like amphibians and worms do not do well in hypersaline environments. Do not use table salt like this. 

Takeaway: Leave table salt out of your garden altogether. You're just wasting salt, messing up soil, and hurting animals.

Vinegar: This is completely fine. Depending on the species of weed you have, it may work very well indeed. However, household white vinegar is only about 5% acetic acid, while horticultural vinegar -- which is sold as a weed killer commercially -- is 20% acetic acid, and works MUCH better on a MUCH wider variety of weeds. It also seems to work best when it is mixed with canola oil. Horticultural vinegar is not as safe for your skin/eyes/etc. and you should follow the safety instructions on the bottle when you use it. If you would like some more information on how well vinegar works to control weeds, you may enjoy reading "Impact of Acetic Acid Concentration, Application Volume, and Adjuvants on Weed Control Efficacy" (Webber et al. 2018). 

Takeaway: Household vinegar in the garden is fine and may work for some species of weeds. Horticultural vinegar works better. Follow safety information when using it. 

Now for RoundUp (aka glyphosate). 

RoundUp will kill pollinators, bees, hives: I will include all invertebrates that seem affected by RoundUp spray in this category. There is good evidence that AT INDUSTRIAL SCALE, RoundUp negatively affects pollinators and other beneficial invertebrates, such as pest-controlling spiders. When applied to a broad area in heavy concentrations, it seems to have lethal effects (particularly in bees who ingest it or come into physical contact with it), and it also seems interfere with reproduction in some bees, wasps, and spiders.

"Is glyphosate toxic to bees? A meta-analytical review" (Battisti et al 2021) is a good meta-analysis about toxicity to various bee species. (It is paywalled, sorry -- but some of its sources are not.) This analysis found that it's easy for bees to get a fatal dose from pollen from sprayed flowers, physical contact with sprayed flowers, or ingestion of nectar from sprayed flowers. At individual garden scale, you are extremely unlikely to harm more than a few individual insects unless you're doing something very weird, like, I don't know, pouring a whole bottle of RoundUp over your patio, or specifically filling flowers with drops of RoundUp. 

Takeaway: In general, I recommend not using RoundUp in your garden. If you do use RoundUp, snip off flowers from the weeds or do not spray the flowers, to avoid pollen contamination and lower the likelihood of bees touching the RoundUp. I strongly suggest instead using manual controls, which is what I do -- I weedwhack and hand-pull weeds (again, with the exception of poison ivy and tree of heaven). 

RoundUp will kill your pets and kids and you: In general, not unless your pets, your kids, or you drink it. This is how it kills mammals: a mammal drinks it. There is some evidence of toxicity to amphibians, but again, this is at industrial scale and high concentrations, not a household preparation used on like 5 weeds in your patio. There is conflicting evidence on whether or not glyphosate is carcinogenic in humans, but the risk -- if it exists -- seems at this point to be low and probably mainly affects agricultural workers who are regularly exposed to a LOT of the stuff.

Takeaway: Secure RoundUp from pets and children. I personally keep garden chemicals in a padlocked plastic box in the garage. If you are suicidal and may drink RoundUp, call your area's suicide prevention hotline or ask someone for help. If you are an agricultural worker regularly in contact with glyphosate in the environment your best resource is probably United Farm Workers (in the US), your local farm workers' org, or La Via Campesina (which is an international farm workers' organization that has taken a stand against the widespread industrial use of glyphosate). 

If you would like to read more about RoundUp toxicity, try: "Glyphosate Poisoning" (Bradberry, Proudfoot, and Vale 2004) and "Glyphosate: A review of its global use, environmental impact, and potential health effects on humans and other species" (Richmond 2018) -- this one is particularly useful because it collates a LOT of research together in one place, so you can get to many, many other articles from it. 

General takeaways: You should take precautions if you use RoundUp not to hurt bees in your garden, but you are unlikely to hurt anything larger than invertebrates if you do use it. Do not use random weedkilling formulas involving random household items in your garden. In particular, dish soap and salt have almost no good garden uses at all and if someone tells you to use them, they are probably misinformed at best. There is a lot of complete bullcrap out there on the internet.

If you want to use organic controls for stuff in your garden, which lots of people do, a good place to start is the OMRI lists. Items on these lists are approved for organic use in the US or Canada and free to download. You can also look for information from Extension in the US about organic controls and home gardening advice; county extension is government-funded and provides a wide variety of free educational material about gardening, forestry, agriculture, etc.

[toysrguts]

Jeff the Killer Headcanons!!

literally nobody asked for this but these have been sitting in a doc for like a year so i wanted to share :)) (I WILL DRAW HIM ONE DAY!!!)

•19 yrs old and 5'9

•multitude of piercings: 14mm ear gauges, along with snake bites, nips, a navel, an eyebrow piercing on either side, second lobes, and an industrial on the right side

•is naturally brunette but dyes and cuts his hair himself. usually uses the cheapest black box dye he can find at the drugstore, and has a classic 2000s emo cut but messier and slightly below shoulder length (when hes lazy he just hacks away at his hair with a knife and calls it a day)

•picked up guitar playing cuz he thought it was cool and sexy but he totally kinda sucks at it (he cannot keep a hobby to save his life)

•raspy voice from smoking so goddamn much; in the morning hes practically whispering

•nails are always painted black but theyre always chipped cuz he picks his fingers when hes bored or anxious

•kind of a twink but has some muscle mass in his upper body (still skinny to the point where you can see his ribcage) (i guess hes more of an otter 💀)

•has a trampstamp he got while absolutely WASTED

•his car floor is completely covered in cans and bottles and garbage

•and it smells like cigarettes and is practically falling apart

•actually everything he owns absolutely reeks of weed and cigarettes and also blood

•bisexual and usually prefers he/him pronouns but he seriously couldnt care less

•TRANSGENDER.

•cant go a whole 5 seconds without making a sex joke or mentioning his huge dick

•has a really bad temper and would literally pull a knife on you for beating him in mario kart

•favorite band is BMTH and enjoys hardcore, deathcore, and most metal genres the most

•ADHD

•insane pyrophobia due to trauma related to fire

•absolutely no shame whatsoever. literally wanders around the slender mansion wearing nothing but boxers and dirty socks with a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of jack daniels in his hand

•wears crop tops occasionally just to show off the belly button ring (AND HE LOOKS AMAZING)

•really bad at showing affection but tries his best. he doesnt usually like showing his softer side and hes very defensive but you can tell he cares deep down

•super impulsive when it comes to killing. if something small sets him off he will not hesitate to go on a rampage. if someone looks at him wrong he'll overthink it and wont rest until they're bleeding on the ground gasping for air

if this does well i'll do part 2 cuz theres a lot more where this came from :D OK BYE HOPE U LIKE

[bronze-and-silver-keys]

Oh boy I love getting struck with inspiration in the shower for the most evil angst ever. When I get an idea I just look like this

Anyway SPOILERS FOR SDR2 BELOW

Can you imagine if the actual traitor Nagito was trying to weed out was Hajime?

Yeah Chiaki was a "traitor" in the sense that she wasn't human but she was on their side and trying to help them. She wasn't working for Monokuma or any evil organization despite what the characters thought.

I had to double check for this, but Nagito finds out that Hajime is Izuru in Chapter 4 after defeating the life threatening game. He even thinks Hajime is the traitor and states as much at the beginning of chapter 4 since Hajimes talent is still unknown. He didn't know that Chiaki was just an AI in the NWP I believe, because her student file was included in the documents (it doesn't list her death, I assume, because if it did he would've figured out the "traitor" right then and not needed to rely on his luck in chapter 5 to have her as the blackened) but Hajime was transformed into a completely different person? Hajime Hinata supposedly didn't exist/is dead now, so who was the person they were interacting with?

I think with that interpretation, Nagito could have easily interpreted that Hajime was the real traitor to the other students, but still wanted to confirm it with his luck in chapter 5. He would set up the murder plan the same, with the fated poisoned fire grenade ending up in Hajime’s hands instead. The trial goes the same, Chiaki is revealed as an AI observer and voted unanimously, but it's revealed after the vote that they got it wrong, that Hajime was the actual killer all along, and all the other students would be executed.

Can you IMAGINE the betrayal the other students would feel? The confusion and rage Chiaki would feel because that wasn't how this was supposed to go, that she was the supposed traitor Monokuma had been talking about all along? The absolute despair Hajime would feel because he doesn't know why he's being labeled as the traitor (only for it to be revealed as he goes into chapter 6 all alone)? The other students hurling accusations and insults at him for betraying them when he doesn't know why this was the outcome and starting to doubt himself all over again after being able to build his confidence with the Ultimates alongside him?

And Monokuma could easily use the wordplay to his advantage. "Oh I never specified if the traitor was working with or against me!"

Even just the realization that he gave up his entire identity to become Izuru Kamukura and essentially wipe himself from existence. All of the angst it could brew as he's going through this alone. No one is there to hype him up. No one is there for him to lean on. He's alone in the reality of his own creation that he doesn't even remember or understand.

And this would be sick as FUCK in the ghost au because Nagito's ghost would be sitting there in the courtroom just smiling at him eerily, also because of the line Monokuma says "So Nagito's ghost is whispering to you?" Or something to that effect.

Anyway new chapter for the ghost au snippets

[ask-nightmares-castle]

Does Cat nip work on Killer?

-Gothic Ribbon Anon

(I'm using the same anon tag as I do with @/abhainnwhump)

Night: Hrnk- No- but-gah.. weed does. And it tends to-by stars killer get off of me-GH. Have the same effects-

[..Night is visibly struggling to get an absolutely stoned Killer to stop forcing all of his weight on her. The sound of loud purring almost completely overpowers Night’s own voice…]

[covenofthearticulate]

Been thinking a lot lately about how Akasha calls Louis "the most predatory of all the immortals" because he kills "without regard for age or sex or will to live." but then later in TVA, Armand describes him as this:

"Louis, an indiscriminate killer, because he cannot satisfy his thirst without killing, though he is too weak to risk the death of the victim in his arms, and because he has no pride or vanity which would lead him to a hierarchy of intended victims, and therefore takes those who cross his path, regardless of age, physical endowments, or blessings bestowed by nature or fate."

Like on the surface Akasha seems totally right, Louis doesn't hunt the evildoer, he preys on innocent victims despite his devotion to humanity and that is what makes him dangerous because he's a hypocrite.

But I'm so intrigued by Armand's re-framing because on the surface sure it makes sense that Louis hunts indiscriminately since he doesn't have the same tools to weed out the evildoers. Only there's another factor on top of that— Louis also doesn't have the pride that it takes to pick and choose victims!!!!! Like, it absolutely takes some level of pride and righteousness (and dare I say narcissism) to kill based on your personal, subjective perception of evil. It also takes work to hunt down a drug lord or a gang leader. Like Armand says, their victims exist in a hierarchical system and to get to the top of the food chain, it takes intention and pre-meditation and a level of conviction Louis just doesn't have.

And honestly I think looking at it from that perspective highlights such an important part of who Louis is as a character because vampirism, for Louis, has never been about power. He just has no interest in living above humans. That's not to say he's completely free of vanity or narcissism (don't get me started there lol) but like I do think Louis' lack of discernment when picking victims ultimately stems from a rejection of playing God and a rejection of self-importance, rather than some feral predatory instinct.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Sweet Nothings

Joker: "My dear I'll be with you forever. You and me we're going to change this rotten city. You deserve the best and I'm going to give it to you. Anything you want… is yours. How's that sound, sugar?"

Harley Quinn: "Anything you desire. Whatever your little heart desires. We'll spend eternity together being the stars that Gotham deserves. Anything you could possibly want is yours. I'll make you the goddess/god you deserve to be."

Catwoman: "I love you more than I can ever say. Every day I’m with you is a reminder of how lucky I am to have found you. I will always be there for you and I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter what you need or want, you will always be my top priority. I love you so much and I can’t imagine what life would be like without you."

Riddler: "You make me feel safe and loved and I am so grateful for you. You are someone who makes me want to be better and I want to make you proud. You are an amazing, wonderful person and I will always be there for you no matter what. I love you."

Penguin: "Oh your eyes are like two burning embers, glowing and shimmering in the night. Your smile lights up the room and warms my heart your laugh is like music. You're the definition of perfection."

Scarecrow: "You’re my everything. My whole world. You’re so special, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much. You make my life so much brighter and fuller and I can’t imagine my life without you by my side. You are my soulmate and I’ll never let anything or anyone take you away from me. I promise."

Deathstroke: " You're a real looker. Your smile, your eyes. You're just perfect… Your every move drives me wild. And I just want to have you near me right now. You belong to me, and I belong to you."

Bane: "My darling, I love the way you light up a room. I love your laugh and your smile. I love the way you make me feel when we’re together. There isn’t anything in the world that I wouldn’t do for you. You mean the world to me and I just want you to know that I will always be by your side, no matter what."

Mr. Freeze: "I love you. I can't imagine this world without you. You complete me. I'm nothing without you. I've been waiting for you and now you're here with me…I just can't believe it."

Two-Face: "You make me want to be a better man. You deserve the world, and I'm going to fight to give it to you. Anything and everything that you need…. I'll be here for you. That's a promise."

Poison Ivy: "You are beautiful. A flower among weeds. When I look at you, I'm reminded of all the things worth fighting for. "

Killer Croc: "My days are only bright and brilliant when you are around. And I know you feel the same way. We belong to each other. Nothing, and no one, will come between us."