#first time drawing garbage man

[desterea]

more mystic malfunction posting! my second favorite scene from the latest chapter, I want @vanillavengeance to know it was very much appreciated

[yjhzies]

“Let the world know.” — Jeon Wonwoo

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot

⋆ pairings : wonwoo x gn!reader ⋆ warning : none! (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.5k [✉️] · discovering a secret admirer that's not your boyfriend...

⋆ - note : (4 the req) MUAHAHA WE DEF HAVE LOTS OF THOUGHTS ON JEALOUS WONU🔥 (but lets keep it out of here...!) I think we both need to touch grass... I havent even touched actual grass even though I go outside everyday 😝 is somebody gonna match my freak??

"Baby, you have a letter and a parcel from someone..."

Wonwoo said, walking in through the front door with a letter in one hand and a parcel in the other, staring at the letter and flipflopping it.

As he placed the package on the table, you looked from the TV to your boyfriend.

"Really? Who sent it?" You inquired, rising from the couch and walking over to Wonwoo.

He shrugged as he handed you the letter. "It doesn't have a name in it."

You frown, taking the letter from him. As Wonwoo begins to open the securely wrapped package, you unfold the letter and begin to read.

"Dear Y/N, this is a letter to express my admiration and gratitude to you. You may not know me, but I am one of the hundreds who admire you from afar. I've always found you beautiful, and I wanted to let you know that I've liked you for a long time n-" You pause, realizing where this was going.

You peek over Wonwoo's shoulder to see him staring at the package, looking shocked. Your gaze lands in the direction where he was staring, and there were roses. Red roses.

You fold the letter and set it aside as you stand beside him.

"Come on, Wonu, it's not like I don't already have thousands of letters already. But, I wouldn't mind another one!" You chuckle, assuming it is Wonwoo sneaking you letters for the nth time, acting like a secret admirer.

"Gross."

Wonwoo said, glaring at the roses through his glasses on the table. You raise your head to look at him and tilt your head.

"Huh?"

"Look at those," he said, reaching out to take one of the roses. "This isn't even the colour you like."

"I can literally buy a million times better one!" He scoffed. "And most importantly, doesn't he know the person he just confessed to has a boyfriend? How weird."

You freeze.

You stand there, stunned as Wonwoo points out every tiny imperfection, your eyes widening as you try to register everything in your brain.

"It's not yours?"

You ask, but judging by the expression on his face, you already know the answer is no.

"I can write a better letter, don't you think?" He raised his eyebrows.

You nod your head, trying to suppress a smile. With a proud nod, he reaches out to rewrap the package before picking it up and tossing it in the garbage can.

"I'll tell the delivery man to return it to whoever sent it," he said, turning to you with a slight pout. He draws you in for a hug, encircling your waist with his arms held tightly but not painfully.

"I can buy you millions of better flowers, you don't need others when I'm here." He said, and you finally let out a chuckle as you noticed the sulkiness in his voice.

"I know, Wonu," you say, patting his back. "I would have rejected it anyways, but I surely am endeared by a jealous Wonwoo."

Glancing down, he covers his face with your neck as he blushes. "I wish I could keep you all to myself, but you're so beautiful, everyone wants you and it's hard to do so."

"First of all, I should be saying that. And second, they're not the one I want, It's you."

"I know, but," he says, pulling back to kiss your lips. "I'll want to let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

[babygorewhore]

Psychoanalyze

Cooper Adams/Abbott x therapist!fem reader

Serial killer the Butcher is in your house. You have to use your training to keep yourself from becoming his next victim. But he has a surprising reaction to your survival tactic.

Gif credit belongs to @billy-crudup

Warnings! A lot. Talks of his crimes! Reader is a behavioral therapist at a hospital! Manipulation! Switch! Cooper! But he submissive at first. Mommy kink but only used once! Reader is vaguely described to be midsize range. Praise, Degrading, oral fem receiving, fingering, face slapping, spitting, scratching, hair pulling, unprotected sex, choking, stomach bulge. Cum eating? Filthy talk tbh. They’re both fucked up. Reader is dominated second half of fic. Finger sucking.

“Make sure to keep your doors locked, Mom. Set the alarm too.” You instruct your worried mother over the phone. You gave her a step by step reminder on how to alert the alarm just using her app.

You sighed and hung up after a few minutes. You saw the news earlier, reading the headline about Cooper being the Butcher. It made you feel cold and empty. Being a counselor, you are trained to study human behavior. He also happened to work close to you.

Still early in your career, you were working in the behavioral unit at the local hospital. The fire department was always called during emergencies and you saw him on a regular basis.

One afternoon, during a particularly chaotic shift, you had talked down a violent patient who had gotten a hold of a nurse.

Cooper watched you the whole time with a dark expression on his face and it made you feel on edge. He gave you a feeling that beneath his friendly, pep in his step, easy going act that there was something else. Something he hid away.

Turns out, it was worse than you could have imagined. Bodies, dismemberment and a seven year long manhunt over the man who’d vowed to save lives.

You finished chewing a piece of candy, tossing the trash in the garbage and turned around. You immediately covered your mouth as a gasp escaped you, losing your balance as your lower back hit the counter painfully.

Cooper was sitting at your table, tense and his hand was inches away from a knife. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned at the top. You swallowed back the urge to sprint, knowing he’d lunge at you and enjoy the fear.

“How did you get in?” You asked simply, straightening your spine.

“I have a key.” He answered in the same casual tone. You nodded and turned your head but Cooper cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t consider that. By the time you grab something or try and run, it’ll be too late.”

You weighed your options. Cooper was a very big man. Strong and stealthy. More than you anticipated. You could try anyway, use speed to your advantage but instead you tried another tactic.

“Cooper, if you leave and don’t hurt me, I won’t call the police for an hour. Giving you a good head start.”

“I like your confidence.” Cooper’s compliment sent shivers across your body and you clenched your fingers into a fist. The tension in the air was thick and he leaned forward.

“I would appreciate it if you sat down.” Although the statement was polite, you knew he wasn’t really asking. He was commanding you.

You eased yourself down onto the chair, your muscles flexing and he grazed his fingers along the knife handle. Cooper inhaled deeply and extended his hand.

“May I have your phone? I’d rather not take it from you.”

You gave him your device, making sure the screen was still locked and he tucked it in his pocket.

“You perplex me.” He tells you, making your eyebrows draw together. “Normally, I see someone who thinks they’re whole and I get the urge to tear them apart.” Cooper savors those last words, as if speaking them could make him relive his crimes. “But with you, I get the feeling that you don’t actually have things together. That it’s all an act.”

You were terrified. Every single nerve in your body was telling you to run away but Cooper’s dark eyes implored yours. Keeping you still and he set a firm palm on your arm. His touch was warm and you flinched.

“I want you to try and understand me. Watching you work is like watching…artwork.” He humorlessly laughed and your bottom lip quivered.

You searched your brain for any memory of what the news said about the Butcher. Organized offender, terrible relationship with his mother, position of authority. It was one thing to hear these things versus having a patient with these traits.

“I think you do really love your kids.” That you did know. You saw their picture as the background of his phone. The only sign of humanity showed when he talked about his children. Cooper gave you a small smirk.

“You…you want to be accepted for who you are. You want to be told that you’re enough. That you’re lovable.” You were grasping at straws but trying to sound collected.

Cooper looked away and you knew that hit a nerve. “You want someone to take care of you.” You continued and moved forward. “Am I on the right track?” He jerked his head in a nod.

“You’re a good boy and you can keep being one. If you just do the right thing and don’t hurt me.” You whispered, setting your hands on his knees. This was incredibly stupid and risky but Cooper blinked rapidly.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore, Cooper. I promise. Just promise me that you’ll be a good boy?”

Your question went unanswered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You yelped, your legs dangling as he carried you to the bedroom. Normally, you hated the idea of someone picking you up but Cooper easily hauled you on the bed. You landed in a heap on your back. You climbed on your elbows, watching him remove his shirt in the dim lighting.

His mountain sized form shook as he crawled on top of you. Cooper kept his weight from crushing you and you sighed in disbelief as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

The fact that a serial killer was in your bedroom, breathing against your skin shirtless made you half wonder if this was a dream. But your body was betraying you. Your senses were leaving as Cooper’s full lips pressed against your pulse point.

Your legs instinctively widened and he settled further in between them. His thick thighs covered in jeans rubbing against you. You had on pajama shorts, exposing your curves and he ran his hand down until it settled on your hip.

Cooper gave it a steady squeeze as his tongue darted out, tasting your skin and he groaned. Your nipples were hardening inside your hoodie and you ached to touch him but held yourself back. This was wrong, this was so incredibly wrong!

“Let me worship you,” He grunted and peppered kisses down your chest. Cooper tugged down the zipper of your shirt, exposing your tits and he took a nipple in his mouth.

His teeth grazed the bud and you whined. Back arching and he started sucking hard enough to leave marks. You hadn’t been fucked in a while, too busy with your job to spend time with anyone but Cooper’s desperate noises made your core pulse.

“Such pretty tits, you taste so good. I can’t wait to sample how sweet you are,” Cooper peeled off your shorts and underwear. You saw him slide them into his pocket before he distracted you with his mouth traveling down your stomach.

His hands were heavy and firm. Laced with age and calluses but he did have a gentleness that prevented unpleasant pain. Instead of pushing your legs as wide as possible, Cooper held your knees. Keeping your thighs high and you couldn’t squirm away.

All your thoughts merged together and seemed into the present moment. You didn’t think about how dangerous he was or that he broke into your house.

“You’re being such a good boy,” You whimpered and Cooper released a guttural moan. He hungrily sucked your clit, making you cry out and bury your hands in his hair.

The silky strands between your fingers were the only way you could ground yourself as he spit and licked up after himself. Your pussy clenched around his tongue and your entire body burned. Cooper wasn’t tentative at all like the other men you’d been with. He buried his entire face, his nose hitting your center and he humped the bed. You knew he wasn’t just eating you out for your pleasure, it was for his own too. You could barely breathe from the pressure in your stomach and lungs as he held your knees tighter.

Your ass was almost off the mattress as Cooper devoured your cunt. His large size gave you a small reality check that he could easily kill you. You shrieked when you released one leg and pressed two girthy fingers inside you. He was able to reach the deepest spot, curling them and making your mouth hang open. It was enough that your climax was scratching the surface. Cooper’s intensity increased and he added another finger as he messily licked your clit.

An explosion hit you, making you let out an embarrassingly loud wail and your free leg clamped around his head. Your cum gave him more slickness as Cooper continued fingering you through it. His lips hovered above your pussy, pressing open mouth kisses against your lower stomach.

Even in the low lighting, you could see the black lust in his gaze as he lifted up. Sticky arousal coated the entire lower half of his face.

“Did that feel good, mommy?” His voice was croaky, almost like he was going to cry and you moaned. You undid his belt, furiously pulling down his pants and boxers.

Your leg hoisted around his waist and you pushed him onto his back. Cooper threw his head back as you situated yourself on top. His dick was big, throbbing as you lined yourself and sank down. He huffed and you laced your fingers with his.

You started rocking, sweat gathering on your skin but he only remained pinned down for a few seconds. He sat up, cupping the back of your head and crushed your lips together. The kiss wasn’t romantic. It was harsh, brutal and bordering on rage.

Your nails raked down his arms, making him growl against your mouth and he pulled your lower lip with his teeth. You gripped his cheeks, spitting in his mouth and then you slapped him.

Cooper looked animalistic as he drove his hips harder into you. It felt like you were going to split open, like it wasn’t going to fit all the way.

“Pathetic little boy,” You hit him again, this time on the other side. “You like that? Like being punished?” Your words were filled with venom and he was trembling so hard it was difficult to keep fucking him.

Cooper’s release hit him violently and he made noises that almost brought you to a second orgasm. Cum seeped in your pussy and your cunt hurt from how turned on you were. He sputtered and groaned. His arms were crushing you but you enjoyed the discomfort.

Whatever submission he had, it vanished as he flipped you over. Cooper’s hand shoved your face down into the pillow as he maneuvered your ass up.

You panted as he sharply slapped your ass, his tip rubbing against your slit. Drool pooled out of your mouth and Cooper pinned your dominant arm behind your back.

“You think you’ve beaten me? By making me bust my load that quickly?” He slammed into you balls deep and it hurt enough to make tears spring. Feeling you recoil inward, he massaged your clit and made you let out a pornographic sound.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be nothing but a cum slut for me. I’m gonna make it drip out of you,” He thrusted hard, making the bed move and you bit down on the material of the pillow.

“You’re fucking helpless. You get that? I could hurt you and you couldn’t stop it.” He laughed, a crazed noise that horrified you. But his dick kept you from acting like a rational person.

“I was going to make you my victim but now you’re gonna be my whore.” Cooper’s filthy words made you choke on a sob as you came on his cock.

He didn’t let you stay in that position, merely tossing you on your back and shoving his dick in. But he did allow you to touch him, claw at his back and wrap your legs around him. Cooper locked his hand around your throat and you were rendered entirely at his mercy.

His frame caged you in and he pressed on your stomach with his other palm.

“Cream on my dick. Your pussy is so goddamn tight, I can feel it like this,” You were delirious and he tapped your cheek with two fingers. “Awww, what’s wrong, princess? Cock so good you went stupid on me?”

His mocking was followed by his seed gushing into you. Cooper rode out his orgasm and pulled out. He jerked himself off, covering your stomach in cum. Taking his finger, he pushed it past your lips. Making you taste both of your releases.

“You’re mine now. And you’re going to be a good little slut. Aren’t you?” You mindlessly nodded, sucking his digit and Cooper gave you a wicked smile.

“Atta girl. Now, get on the floor. Start at the door and crawl to me.”

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @amethystblackkchaos @cryobabyy @hereforthehitsbaby @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @rottenangel @rosaleelovesdilfs @strangererotica @justafangirls-blog @coopers-bunny @thebutchersbitch @redpillbluepill @rubyfruitjungle @lovalova444 @oceanblvd111 @stillwjk-channie-lixie

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[bweeeb]

HATED

Theodore Nott x reader ( Whispered as last name )

Enemies to lovers

Notes: When I wrote this, I didn't realize how dirty it was, I apologize for the shitty writing.

Summary: When the new girl causes Slytherin to lose the House Cup, Theo becomes much more interested in getting her attention—even after acting like a jerk. But maybe with Voldemort's return, it might be too late to make something last.

Warnings: Smut, Theodore being an asshole like every man on earth, reader being a proud slut.🤘❤️‍🔥

Being competitive was always one of Theodore Nott's characteristics that almost no one knew about, and as one of the smartest students in Slytherin, Theodore never had trouble keeping his competitiveness to himself. By the end of the third year, the vast majority of Slytherin's points were consistently earned by Theodore, leading Slytherin to take the top spot in the House Cup every year, until Y/n Whispered transferred from Ilvermorny at the beginning of the fourth year and secured the House Cup for Hufflepuff. Theodore couldn't help but feel intense hatred spread through him from head to toe upon seeing that the person who had taken his place was a new, blonde, five-foot-three Hufflepuff girl, which irritated him even more because the attraction he felt towards her was stronger than the instant hatred that surged in his chest. The first time he saw her celebrating with her peers at the end of the year, Theodore decided he would make Y/n's life much more complicated from the moment she looked at him from across the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, and sent a gentle smile his way. Theodore didn't understand the reason behind her beautiful smile but interpreted it as mockery; he preferred to imagine that Y/n was mocking him rather than smiling amiably due to the stories she had heard about him, ultimately ending up liking a Muggle-born Hufflepuff.

In the fifth year, Y/n endured a series of provocations from Theodore until she reacted, turning it into a personal game that went beyond the House Cup. In the fifth year, Slytherin once again won the House Cup, and Theodore made sure to send a card to her room with the message 'What can you do if Muggle-borns only get lucky once in a lifetime, dolcezza,' and on the back of the card, probably the phrase that made Y/n cry with anger for the rest of the night, 'Maybe you should go cry to your parents, little baby.' The next day, Y/n put on her tough mask and threw the paper into Nott's plate at breakfast, saying loudly and clearly, 'My parents are dead, so if you tried to offend me, you failed with both the Muggle-born insult and the part about parents, Stupid Nott.' From that day on, Y/n began to hate Theo for being so stupid, and Theo began to observe Y/n more delicately, and partially the provocations decreased. However, with the decrease in provocations, Y/n's approval and visibility over him also decreased. Nott had to find another way to get her attention, even if it meant returning to taunting.

— You smell that? Oh wait, it's just Y/n walking into the hall.

Y/n heard Nott say loudly as she passed by him during breakfast.

— Must be coming from that mouth of yours that only spews garbage, Theodore.

The girl retorted as she walked past him without even looking at him and sat down at her table nearby.

— You should watch what you say to him, Y/n.

Y/n's friend, Violet, said, glancing quickly at the Slytherin table.

— It's just Nott, Vic. If he wants to hate me, I'll hate him back.

The girl shrugged, drawing Penny's gaze from across the table.

— No, Y/n. I heard they know who's back.

— What?

Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her body trembling. Her parents died in a suspicious and brutal manner while on a trip to the Ministry of Magic in London through dark magic, her uncles, born with pure blood, confirmed that probably some attacks on half-blood wizards are happening all of a result of among them

A week passed, and the news of Voldemort's return turned out to be true, making the seventh year more unsettling than ever. Gradually, half-blood students began disappearing, the common room grew emptier, classrooms quieter and less lively. Y/n had lost all focus on her studies. Dark days were casting a shadow over the wizarding world, and while all her classmates fled to safety with their families, she remained at Hogwarts, surrounded mostly by Slytherins who seemed unaffected.

On a rainy night, Y/n lingered longer than usual in the library, finishing her assignments. As she hurried back to her dorm, she noticed Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, and Theodore Nott standing casually against a wall, engaged in conversation. She lowered her head, bit her lip, and rolled her eyes, her heart racing. "Stupid, stop being silly, Y/n," she scolded herself silently, trying to slip by unnoticed. But Theodore, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, chuckled and began to follow her. — No house to go back to, Y/n? Theodore's voice was mocking, prompting laughter from the three Slytherins echoing down the corridor. Theo couldn't help but wish Y/n would turn around, march over with that cute angry expression he secretly admired, and look him in the eye. — Your family didn't want you because you're a Mudblood?He taunted again, not bothering to face her.

— Fuck you, Theodore. Y/n muttered, stung by his words for the first time because deep down, she knew there was truth in them. Her pureblood uncles' allegiance to Voldemort left her with no safe haven at Hogwarts, just the hope of avoiding a grim fate. Without looking back, Whispered strode on, leaving Theodore to stew in his irritation at her avoidance. It had been over a month since she last met his gaze, and he hated how much he missed their confrontations.

— What did you say?

— What's this bablood still doing here?

Y/n heard Draco ask, his laughter joining Matteo's teasing remark: — Maybe the little lioness needs a cigarette to calm down. Meanwhile, she still heard Theodore's footsteps behind her.

— Hey, I'm talking to you, Mudblood. Theodore quickened his pace, grabbing her wrist, the first time their skin touched and it felt like she was burning against his.

— I said, FUCK YOU, NOTT, and don't fucking touch me. Y/n spun around so forcefully that her ponytail whipped across his face. In that instant, regret surged through her chest. Their eyes locked, and for a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a different side of him. — I'm sorry.

Her voice was barely a whisper as Y/n stumbled backwards, fleeing from the sight of the Slytherins as swiftly as the wind. She was scared, and Theodore saw it in her eyes, as clear as day. What Y/n didn't realize was that he was scared too.

In the days that passed, the school's security changed, which meant there was no security at all, not for her. This meant she felt safer inside her room than walking the corridors. Dumbledore was dead, teachers were as concerned as the remaining students at the school, and all this meant Y/n no longer appreciated meals, only eating when necessary. Theodore had noticed this minimal frequency, and the girl's tired appearance, who seemed not to sleep, began to worry him. He yelled at himself that he shouldn't be concerned.

One night, the Hufflepuff common room was completely deserted, doors wide open, and as Y/n repeated in her letters to her friends far away, there was no security at all. A strange noise from the other side of Whispered's room door made her rise from the bed where she was sitting and grip her wand tightly. When she was sure no one was there, she opened the door and looked at the plate of food on the floor, grabbed it, and placed it on her desk. She picked up the card beside it and read, 'I noticed you haven't been eating properly. It's important that you eat, bella.' Y/n stared at the plate for a few long minutes, afraid it might be poisoned, but when her stomach rumbled at the smell emanating from the food, her resistance was broken, and she quickly devoured the plate.

Over the next two weeks, similar things happened with several meals feeding Y/n when she didn't show up in the main hall. Over thirty cards accumulated in her drawer, and Y/n couldn't decipher all the Italian nicknames at the end of the notes, wondering who could be doing this.

Late one night, three days since Y/n had eaten anything, a knock on her door echoed, and without fear, Y/n opened it quickly, eager to see who was entering the Hufflepuff common room at such an hour. To her surprise, she saw Theodore Nott's figure quickly disappearing down the corridor.

— Hey! She shouted, running after him and grabbing his wrist just as he had done to her on several previous occasions. Her gaze fell upon him, looking unsure there.

— What are you doing? Y/n asked suspiciously.

— I can't be seen here — he murmured. Y/n stood still briefly until Nott pushed her back into the room.

— So what are you doing here? she asked again.

— You haven't been eating...

Theo said, pointing to the untouched food.

— That's not true. It was, but she didn't want to admit it to him.

— I know it is, dolcezza. Theo said, almost desperate, leaving Y/n confused.

— What are you still doing here, Y/n? Theodore asked, concerned, moving closer to Y/n, who for the first time didn't pull away from him in fear.

— I should be asking you what you were doing in my room. She said, ignoring his question. Theodore moved closer again, almost touching their noses.

— I'm serious, Y/n.

— I have nowhere else to go, Theodore. You were right, my family doesn't want me, so I'll stay. Is that okay with you? Y/n turned away from his gaze, walking away. — Thanks for the food, but you can go now.

— You have to leave. He whispered. Y/n shook her head, briefly glancing towards him without really meeting his eyes.

— Why are you worried?

— Because... because, I... He stuttered, unsure of what to say. — I... I want you to be okay, Y/n.

— Why? I'm a badblood,' as you all say, why does it matter? You never liked me, Theodore, I don't understand.

— Don't call yourself that way.

— Theodore.

The girl moaned and Theodore sighed worried.

— If they find you, they'll kill you. I...I...

— Theodore, you're not answering what I'm asking. Why are you worried?

— I don't know, Y/n. — Theo sat on the bed with his hands on his head and his arms on his knees, his eyes closed, and Y/n stood still in front of him. — I shouldn't, but I care about you.

— That doesn't make sense, you hate me, Theodore...

— No! I don't hate you. Theodore stood up quickly and approached her, almost touching their noses.

— But you always...

— I've always been an idiot because I wanted to get your attention. I wanted you to look at me. Theo said, closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.

— That makes no sense, Nott.

— No! It doesn't, but I don't know a better way to do it...

— Maybe act like a normal person?

— My mother would hate me for what I did to you and say I'm foolish. Theo muttered more to himself and ran his hands through his now longer hair.

— I think I've loved you since the first day you smiled at me, Bella. You have this thing, that pulls me to you. Theo whispered, and Y/n widened her eyes, expecting to find a prank.

— But you ran away...that's nonsense, how? Me and you, Theodore? What the hell are you talking about, my God. She laughed humorlessly and rushed away from the Italian's body, agitated. — Where's Matheo and Malfoy? Okay, YOU CAN COME IN NOW! I UNDERSTAND. She shouted at the door, desperate, and Theodore pulled her by the shoulders to look at him again.

— It's not a prank, Whispered. There's no one there, they know that, and it was them who told me to talk to you.

— You were about to run when I saw you, Theodore. She repeated. — I can't believe you could ever love a 'mudblood. She made air quotes with her fingers, and Theodore closed his eyes, groaning. — H-h-how could y-you love me, Theodore? She stuttered, feeling vulnerable, and suddenly Theodore's lips pressed against hers, the girl from her first day at Hogwarts was enchanted by Theo's beauty and intelligence, but when she realized he would never feel the same besides the eternal teasing resolved to slap her in chest of, now, doesn't

— Believe me, bella. Y/n nodded, getting lost in those deep blue eyes, and leaned in to kiss him once again, more harder. Their size difference didn't help at all, so Theo grabbed the girl's waist and set her on the desk in a way that she opened her legs to accommodate his body between them.

— The world is going to end, isn't it? — Y/n asked, placing kisses on Theodore's neck and fighting for the dominance he had previously taken, starting to distribute kisses along her neck.

— If no one stop this crazy wizard, yes, my princess. He said, giving wet kisses on Y/n's skin, making her moan and tilt her hips closer to his, seeking some friction against his pants.

— Fuck — she moaned once more, and Theodore found her lips again. His hand on her waist pulled her body closer to his, and Theodore groaned as he rubbed against the wet fabric of Y/n's panties with his hard erection.

— Shit, Y/n, you're so wet — He groaned this time, and Y/n nodded, clinging to him.

— Do you want to fuck me? Please do it, Teddy. She whimpered into Theodore's neck, who opened his mouth in ecstasy at the girl's words begging for him.

— Mia bellissima principessa, ti scoperò così bene. The Italian in Theo's voice made Y/n spread her legs wider in anticipation, seeking some friction against her clitoris.

— Please. — With that, Theo removed the girl's green lace panties, his provocative gaze falling on her form.

— Green panties? I think someone was longing for me. He said, biting the girl's shoulder, making her laugh.

— What can I do if... — Before she could finish her sentence, Theodore inserted two fingers inside her.

— So wet for me. — He groaned as he moved his fingers against her. — Such a good girl.

He repeated as she reached her peak, knowing she was close because he felt her tighten around his fingers. Just before she came, Theodore pulled his fingers out, provoking a frustrated moan from her, and removed his pants, revealing his erect cock with a red tip. Y/n's eyes shone in anticipation, and without him noticing, she got on her knees, grabbing his cock and pumping it before taking it into her mouth like a lollipop. After a few sucks, he pulled her back up, kissing her lips and smiling at her shiny lips. — I want to be inside you, principessa.

— Do it. — With that, Theodore spread her legs on the desk and plunged his cock into her.

— Damn, so tight. He moaned together with her as she smiled. Theo began to move at a fast pace, but not fast enough, making Y/n move her hips forward, trying to go faster. — So impatient. He said, then started to fuck her at a much quicker pace.

— Such a tight pussy for me. Theo moaned into her ear as the wet sounds filled the room.

— Fuck, Teddy, yes, uh-huh, fuck me like that. — She moaned loudly, and Theodore smiled with his neck buried in her neck, feeling her walls tighten around him.

— Are you going to cum for me, princess? Nott asked, and Y/n grunted, nodding. — Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, I know you want to.

As he said those words, Y/n reached her climax, moaning loudly and panting, smiling, still feeling Theodore's release above her as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. Y/n leaned into his ear and did what he did to her.

— Cum inside me, Teddy. — She moaned, and Theodore opened his mouth, obsessed with this girl. — Cum inside my pussy. Please. Put your babies inside me. She said, and with that, Theodore pushed in several times with erratic but deep thrusts, spilling all his cum inside the girl who was now drenched.

— Why did i never admit what i want, fuck Y/n. Theo groaned and hugged Y/n's tired body, pulling her close.

— You're an idiot.

— Totally, come on, let's clean you up.

As days went by, Y/n and Theo's secret rendezvous became more frequent: stolen kisses, clandestine meetings in their room unnoticed by Professor Snape. Y/n brought calm to Theo, and he brought solace to her. Until today.

A chilling laugh echoed through the Slytherin common room, and Blaise burst in, his face grave.

— They're here... Death Eaters have arrived at Hogwarts, and that spells trouble for Y/n.

—They're looking for her, Theo. Blaise added, and Theodore pushed the girl behind him protectively. — You need to hide, Y/n.

— WHO'S GOING TO CATCH THAT LITTLE RAT WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND? Bellatrix's voice boomed from the stairs, and Blaise shook his head before departing.

— I'll try to stall them. Figure out your next move, Theodore. With that, he left the room.

— Theo... Y/n called to him, but his focus was on strategizing how to save her.

— Theodore Nott. They'll kill you if they find out I'm here. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders as he hyperventilated.

— They'll kill you, Y/n.

— They know I'm here, Theo. They want me because of my family's history.

— I can't let them take you. Theo shook his head, pulling the blonde into a tight embrace.

— It's going to be okay. She murmured, looking into his eyes.

— Apparate with me to my room and take me as if you found me. It'll be suspicious if they find you up here. She said resolutely until Theo looked at her face, realizing too late how much he loved her, and apparated to the ruined Hufflepuff common room.

They walked to the dungeons, and before proceeding, Theo turned to her, kissing her, resting his forehead against hers, and sighed.

— I'm sorry for being foolish for so long.

— I love you, Theodore Nott. I spent six weeks with you and it was enough to know that you have a much bigger heart than everyone said, And I know I was right when I fell in love with you since the day I first saw you at fourteen years old. It's going to be okay.

Those were her last words before being handed over to the Death Eaters.

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

Requests are open💞

[magiturge]

okay.. go my sheriff/hank ( individual and pairing ) headcanons / thoughts this is going to be really long, careful when you open it.

each dash is its own thing. for hank ( he / they / it / she is reserved. ) :

- hank is G01 / generation 1 grunt, but a particularly strange one in the sense that they are not a grunt. hank is a script. i headcanon hank as being the cannoneer / cannoneer script in the original marshmallow madness and how they are shown in the magiturge arena mode ending. i am on purpose ignoring that he was mentioned to be a G02 by swain.. hank is a script and as such behaves differently than everybody else because they were never intended to be a person or an entity. hank as the cannoneer script was intended to just be that, a placeholder with a face in the very early stages of nevada's creation and the nowhere. i started to lean into this headcanon a lot more when i saw a clip of krinkels answering a question regarding why the maker scribbles out hank in the cave drawings, with him saying "because he's a strange one. he's a very strange one. not really a.. not really a one with the identity as the maker understands it." ..i just think it'd be funny if hank was never meant to have an identity in the first place and was a function first before being a person. it's why hank is so down the straight and narrow about getting the job done, you gave him something to do and he will do it. i like to describe hank as being an extension of the machine itself as a script.

- hank's height, width and depth changes subtly to drastically with each time he dies and comes back. i like to keep his base height at 6'2" but if you were to linger around them for long enough, you might notice every so often that he seems a bit shorter than usual or a bit taller, or he has a bit more or less muscle somewhere. it's just a result of supply of material to sew him back together.

- hank harbors no sense of physical attraction to anybody in the sense of finding anyone 'hot', 'cute', 'pretty', 'sexy', etc. they see absolutely nobody as attractive in that sense and the most you will ever see in terms of complimenting appearances is with how much 'cool factor' there is to something.

- hank sees red. for them there is not really a black and white, a good vs evil, a grey area. everything is red in that everything and anyone can be a tool. it's not really a 'sees red and gets angry / violent' thing. everybody looks the same to it on a moral / alliance / loyalty point. it has no issue turning on you if you get in the way or alligning with you if you can work to the same goal it has.

- for awhile, hank behaved very npc like or average grunt like before the whole punching the boombox guy. a whole lot of no particularly violent activity until that incident and it being like the switch flip of 'oh wait. i dont really know why but i think ive done this kinda killing people thing before ( marshmallow madness ) but im really really enjoying it,' like it might be a natural thing hank knows to do. - almost all of hank's outfit is a diy project it works on when it is bored, parts are stolen during missions ( homes / clothing stores ) or straight from the garbage. in a sense that's how hank is gradually building an identity for themself.

∙ hank has no issue with dying itself, but it's a matter of what circumstance and how they die that will determine if that irritates it enough to come back. ( i.e some stupid rug pulling bullshit or getting a kill stolen by dying to something stupid. )

- much of hank's skin is discolored or outright not the same shade or tone as their original skin since they're a hankenstein of various people's body's now ( haha ). they're also missing some certain parts that don't particularly bother them. its more like accessory and so long as they have the necessary parts that won't cause them complications, it frankly doesn't give a shit if something is gone.

for sheriff ( he ) : - go my transgender bear. - sheriff self medicated with alcoholic and as a result, over the years became a functioning alcoholic. this is entirely based on the line of 'pass the whiskey' he has and also the whole.. debacle he's been put in. he smells always vaguely of whiskey as a result of this. he feels a bit braver drunk but y'know.. reality backhands him in the face again and he focuses.

- sheriff and jeb are not friends. at best they are aquaintances, allies by circumstance not by goal. sheriff is afraid of jeb and worries about pissing him off as it might mean he loses an ally and potentially gains an enemy if he doesn't comply with his orders ( i.e assisting jeb in plans like lending his men to deal with hank ). at this point in time, jeb seems wildly unstable and too zeroed in on his savior bullshit for sheriff to feel comfortable speaking up at all about not wanting to deal with this stuff anymore. sheriff was a normal guy first that had no intention of getting involved with this stuff in the first place until jeb pulled him into it with fear as a motivation. jeb isn't a friend, just a 'friendly-face'. - sheriff has gotten better at hiding his fear / non-fighter nature at least with the way he talks. the fear and the desire to live is always there but the way he presents himself feeds into how he is perceived. at the end of everything, sheriff is always running away from the site of conflict if he's in an unsafe spot or at a disadvantage. covering up his fear makes him appear very cocky and arrogant - sheriff's hair is long as well as his beard, it is like a mane. it's his pride and he tries his best to keep it well maintained but he's.. too stressed to keep it up all the time. there are some curly and wiggly looking hairs ( i don't know the right term for it ) sticking out, and some parts tangled and thick. he feels weird if he were to ask anyone of his men to brush it out. - sheriff is a lot better at fighting and defending himself at this current point in time ( mpn2 and ahead ) but he is held back by the fact he is worried about dying or getting injured in general. he's afraid of taking a risk and would much rather use traps and a whole lot of walls in the way. - sheriff likes to hum, whistle and sing quietly to soothe his nerves. unfortunately, given his desire to uphold a strong image, he overthinks that being heard humming or singing, even quietly, around any of the MERC units will have him perceived as too soft or an oddity. for this reason, he is usually found whistling little bits when he's actually roaming the MERC buildings and his humming and quiet singing is for when he's patrolling the industrial sector walls on his own. - he carries a level of care for the MERC under his leadership but has a confused relationship with his individuality and being a part of a group. he was a guy first and foremost and because of the responsibility that was put onto him by jeb to protect these people he feels an obligation to forego his feelings and emotional needs. as a result he doesn't really.. interact with them on a super friendly level as much as he would say, a stranger with a friendly chat. he sees them as just people to be protected, a group and not individuals. he can separate himself from them but he also cant. - the nutrient slop in a can he's been eating for so many years has dulled his sense of taste a bit. if you gave him something that tasted real, even as greasy as a goddamn burger his face would light up. hot food does things to your mind and you dont realize it until you've had it again. - sheriff and the industrial sector represent each other. with large walls and many defenses to protect himself but with unfortunate cracks and weak points created over time. there can be so many barriers but many pathways, many vents for someone to crawl through and find the weak point.

ok. go my old man yaori.

their entire relationship is a push and pull. - their relationship (?) is a secret for as much as they are capable of keeping it a secret. sheriff desperately wants to keep it a secret because he fears that his men ( MERC ) finding out could potentially get him exiled or worse killed for being a 'traitor'. he also doesn't want to lose that sense of safety and togetherness, a stable foundation for him to stand and walk on. it's why he kicks himself in the head about the whole thing because he knows he shouldn't be getting involved like this. - as i mentioned before, hank feels no physical attraction to anybody and that applies to sheriff as well. it feels nothing in terms of 'wow he's cute' or 'he's hot'. the times that it can be mistaken that hank finds something about sheriff that is cute in terms of physical appearance is for different reasons. for example.. sheriff blushing and hank responding positively to that is not because hank finds that image to be cute but because he understands that image to be a positive thing. if : sheriff is blushing, then : i did something good, since i understand blushing as something that happens when someone is flattered. it elicits a positive reaction from hank because he understands it as something good and beneficial, rather than it being found personally cute or pretty. - hank thinks that sheriff did have a sort of glow up and that he looks 'cooler' now ( i.e you don't look like a wimp anymore ) however he thinks that the absolute layering of clothes, body armor and ammo looks tacky as hell. he gets why sheriff is wearing all that but it could have better days. they do find the leather chaps sheriff wears to be the one thing that kind of look cool, so it has taken the liberty of messing with them a bit, with permission, to make them look a bit cooler. it likes leather. on the topic of what sheriff wears, hank also doesn't like what he's wearing because it makes sheriff obnoxiously annoying to fight in close combat. it'll swing at sheriff and feel the padding and get a bit irritated because he really is just layered in protection, no satisfaction that it normally gets from feeling the injury caused in a fight. ..hank knows that it'd be better to leave not too many injuries, but that doesn't stop it from being irritated when they trade punches and it can feel a bruise on the highway while sheriff likely hasn't gotten something so serious. it's the kind of bullshit it doesn't like. hank wears body armor and padding too but not nearly as much. - they're both at around level terms of fighting capability, it is their personalities and style that make the difference. hank does not like sheriff's style of fighting in the presence of other people watching whatsoever as he thinks it's cowardly and unengaging. he's always at a distance, rapid fire, itchy finger. it's like dealing with a turret with self awareness and a mouth to run insults at you. the bullshit bullshiiiit he doesnt like. it's why hank prefers the little spats they get in. - hank's biggest upside in their situationship is how direct and to the point they are, it really hates the dancing around the topic sheriff does. if sheriff is being particularly dodgy about something or acting differently or avoidant, hank asks directly what is going on. it figured out relatively fast that sheriff's cowardly avoidant nature applies to just about anything and it has to adapt to that. sheriff's biggest downside is his reluctance to vocalize his needs as he doesn't entirely perceive hank as a person yet, still seeing him partially as the man in the posters, meaning he doesn't believe hank is capable of accommodating, being affectionate, or being considerate of his needs.

- sheriff hates vocalizing or articulating anything that seems like proof to the world or himself of his affections towards hank. something simple as wanting to have an embrace, he does not want to say it. it's acknowledgement of his affections, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it. he would rather outright go for the hug or for hank to initiate it first. on the same note, neither of them say i love you to each other. hank doesn't particularly care.. it just sees it as another expression of affection and it doesn't find words to be as fun as actions. sheriff doesn't say it for the reasons above and it feels way too intimate for him anyway. it's like saying 'yes, hank j wimbleton most wanted person in nevada who has killed many many and killed me once as well, i lovey wovey you'. he feels stupid saying it. it's 3 words but he hears a lot more. - sheriff still maintains a grudge for having been killed by hank many years ago, it's sort of shallow now though. he already got even with hank at the start of this snowballing situation, as they had a spat and he shot them dead. - hank is the grounded one in the situationship, more mentally stable and.. decisively stable than sheriff. he often has to be very blunt so sheriff stops rocking around, thinking too hard about something. - they don't talk to each other that often but on the chances they do, they do have some.. detailed conversations on things. it can range from something mundane as guns, what attachments they like on theirs to .. more delicate topics.

- hank often returns to sq hq smelling faintly of whiskey and sheriff often returns to MERC warehouses smelling vaguely of rotting bodies and blood. they both have smelled each other and they both think they both smell like shit. when possible, sheriff will continuously nudge that hank go and bathe, though that means sheriff has to as well. - hank thinks sheriff is a bit.. like crazy? or at least not making the smartest decisions sometimes. he wonders why sheriff maintains really long hair even though he works around machinery a lot. hank thinks that he's beign a bit ridiculous for being such a worry wart and not doing anything about the glaring issue in his wardrobe. it has vocalized this issue and are usually met with sheriff giving him a bit of a dirty look. at the least, hank does like to touch his hair. sheriff doesn't particularly care that much about hank touching his hair, just that he doesn't cut it. it likes to feel the texture and pick out tangles, it gives hank something to do in a mundane slow time. - sheriff has one of hank's black bandanas. it let him keep it when sheriff as gotten a bit of a nasty slash during a spat they had together, hank had tied it around the wound and he let sheriff keep it. sheriff now uses it as part of his outfit from time to time. it alternates usually from 3 places : a hair tie for a low ponytail, tied around his arm, or most unseen, in his right back pants pocket. aaha. hheh. heh. ok i'm tired, there's more but big man wants to eat his damn ass food.. idk uh, my writing somewhat properly is escaping me

[lucysarah-c]

Following your answer on homosexuality in AoT, how would sexism in AoT be handled on both sides of the spectrum, female and male, on Paradis and in Marley?

Hi, dear! How are you?

Ah, that's such a good question. You know, I did a post about it a LONG time ago, but it’s a topic I touch on a lot in my fics and here from time to time.

I'll set the context of my reply with three ideas. First, sexism or misogyny ALWAYS exists. It exists in our society like oxygen does. In many countries, it’s not the same sexism as in the 1800s, but it still exists. Second, the Scouts PER SE are the "wokes" of their time; they don't have the same views, lives, and beliefs as regular people inside the walls. So I always think that the Scouts are a bit of an "exception" from the rest of Paradis.

Third, and I state this because my blog is Levi-centered, Levi is ALREADY a person, and in particular, a man, with a very different and unique upbringing. I DO believe that Levi has a more "modern" or "woke" view on "women," "women's rights," and "house chores" than the rest of the men. I'll simply say this: a man who saw his mother being treated like garbage because she worked as a prostitute, a man who had to raise himself, and a man who RAISED a girl out of pure heart. I hardly think he judges women on how they dress, who they sleep with, or thinks that "a man shouldn't cook or clean/take care of the kids." So Levi is kind of an exception for me. This doesn't mean he doesn't have internalized misogyny or "micro-sexism" (which I'll talk about later).

Overall, despite both societies allowing "women" in the military, I don't think their views on women or men's roles are much different. I believe there are a few clear examples of this in the manga. If my memory serves me correctly (and take this with a grain of salt because I know that Isayama gave multiple interviews, and a lot of them were edited), he said on one occasion that the Scouts were different because usually, everybody helps with all the chores, like cooking, cleaning, etc., because they work more united and as a family than the rest of the military divisions. Second, he said in one interview right after the manga ended that when he draws "military boards or higher ranks," he always keeps in mind not to add women because they aren't allowed.

Other scenes that quickly come to mind that make me think that Paradis (and I'll speak mostly of Paradis because we don't see much of Marley as a society) is a very sexist society with traditional views:

Most of the time, when we are shown military members from the Garrison OR the MPs, they are mostly men.

Which women are shown that are "recalled" from the Garrison? Riko and Anka… What role does Anka have? Being a secretary for Pixis, more or less, a very stereotypical role for a woman.

A very memorable woman from the MPs is Hitch, and there's a scene where it's clearly said that "there's only one way a woman like Hitch can get into the MPs," basically stating that she made sexual favors to get into that position.

Not a single scene from the military board or higher-up positions shows a single woman.

All the mothers of the characters shown in the story are "housewives" or "stay-at-home moms," which is absolutely fine if a woman decides to dedicate her time to her family as long as it’s a decision she made and not because she didn’t have "other options." Even Eren's mother, Carla, is shown to work as a waitress before she became a mother and a housewife.

All this makes me conclude that probably women inside the military never reach far, either because they aren't allowed (men are preferred over them, offered better positions, promoted first) or because once they get married, they are expected to become stay-at-home wives. I can clearly imagine people thinking that if you get promoted as a woman, it's because you're sleeping with your boss, or if you haven't gotten married and had kids at a certain age, "you're wasting your time" or "a woman's role is to be a mom; they only feel fulfilled like that."

This creates a power dynamic: women are expected to be wives; therefore, men are expected to be the main providers. And this is something I can see men, particularly Levi, being affected by. In my fic, I wrote once that Levi gets very offended when the reader invites or pays for him because she comes from a wealthy family. For Levi, as internalized misogyny, HIS role as a man is to provide. What kind of man is he if he's not paying? Especially for the Scouts' men, it's said that the Scouts have the lowest salaries in the military. If they can't provide, their chances of getting married are probably low. Even today, a lot of men get sensitive or offended if their wives make more money than them. Or men get irrationally jealous and butthurt if their women are more successful than them.

Another way men might get the sour end is in terms of emotional availability. While women's harsh reality is known, men's struggles often aren't. For example (one from Marley), Reiner's mother suffers a lot of social prejudice because she had a kid out of wedlock, and her only "salvation" is that Reiner becomes a warrior. Even today, men struggle with being emotionally available and having more feelings than just "lust and anger." I can totally see men all over the AoT world having to be these "very tough" guys who are only allowed to be "human" when they are alone with "their girl/wife." This happened a lot after WWI; men were sent back home with horrible memories of war and society expected them to just "toughen up and be men." Go, work, and provide for your family; and if you're suffering from everything you lived, then learn to be a man.

It's like I can literally imagine Erwin perhaps complaining that he's having a hard time, and Zackly or any other dude would be like, "You know what you need? A wife; she will take care of the rest."

"I don't have time to dedicate."

"Doesn't matter, a good wife always understands."

"… my salary isn't that good."

"Oh well, you know it's never too late for you to change divisions and settle down." pat on the back lmao end of the advice, and Erwin has the same emotional stress as before.

Overall, I think their views are probably as traditional as they were only a couple of years ago. This is completely ignorable for the sake of fanfiction and having fun; not every piece you write has to send a message or be political. But if you ask me how I think canon AoT characters are, I believe a good part of them, if not most, would be very traditional.

Hope this helps! I tried to cover everything I could remember while being as concise as possible. Thank you so much for your question!

Lots of love!

[sanguineterrain]

Hiii, discovered your fics on AO3 and they’re very my jam! If you’re still taking requests, could I suggest something where Jason rescues you, an angsty hurt/comfort? Maybe they’re pining for each-other and maybe confront/confess their feelings, or are already together, up to you.

No worries if not 😊😊 Thanks for the good words ❤️🖤

Hey I know you! Thanks for leaving nice comments over yonder 🥰 Idk if I really delivered on this prompt but I hope you like it anyway lol 😅 I combined this prompt with another I received about Jason and the reader fighting before the reader is hurt/kidnapped.

jason todd x fem!reader. tw: creepy men, crime alley, injured reader, jason shoots people (🎶whatta mighty good man🎶)

****

"If you don't know who this is, you shouldn't be fucking calling. Leave a message after the beep or whatever."

Beeeep!

"Jay, it's me. Can we please talk? You can't ignore me forever. I want us to fix this. I—" You swallow hard. "I miss you."

You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you think of what to say. You've already left three unanswered messages. There's no more for you to say. You just want things to be fixed.

You want your best friend back.

"Okay. Call me when you can."

You hang up and pocket your phone.

The fight was stupid. Jason doesn't respond well to being pushed, but you pushed him anyway. You wanted to know where he disappeared to at night. You were sick of the secrets, of always feeling like you were three steps behind, left in the dark.

If you really cared about me, you would tell me where you go.

Jason had stilled, expression cold.

I don't owe you anything.

Your voice had turned wobbly then.

Jay, don't I mean anything to you? I want you to trust me, I want this to be a normal friendship!

He'd put on his jacket and collected the few things he left in your apartment.

You're right. You deserve normal.

You haven't spoken since. At first, you thought Jason left for a few hours to cool down. So you gave him space.

But then hours turned to days, and now it's been a full week and a half since you'd fought. Last night, you broke down and cried. This is it. You've lost him for good.

Part of you fears the reality is darker than him just leaving. You've long suspected that whatever Jason goes out to do is probably illegal since he's always out at night.

What if you're called down to the police station to identify a body?

All those things left unsaid. Jason will never know you love him.

Screw this. You're going to his apartment.

It's late. It's really late, and this is actually not the best idea to carry out at eight o'clock at night in Crime Alley. There's a reason Jason always insists on hanging out at your apartment or at a cafe.

A man whistles at you down the street. "Goin' somewhere, girlie?"

This was a bad idea. Jason might be the one who has to ID a body tonight.

You can't remember which of these apartments is his. But you can't call him. He can't know you're here, not yet.

"You shouldn't be here, lady!" a kid shouts at you from a fire escape. "He don't like new people on his turf!"

You don't take the time to figure out who the kid means. Crime Alley is known for, well, crime. The sooner you can locate Jason's apartment, the better.

A group of men light cigarettes down the road. You pause and turn around. In the process, you stumble over a garbage can.

That instantly draws their attention.

"Well, what have we here?" one jeers. "You lost, sweetie?"

You run.

You don't care if it makes you look afraid—you are afraid, and you're beyond caring. You shouldn't have come here.

You turn abruptly. You have no idea where you're going, but maybe if you act like you do, you'll throw them off. You take another turn, then another, and you look behind you to check if—

Wham!

You crash into a body. A muscled body, one that forces you backwards.

White, glowing eyes that smolder inside a red helmet meet your own.

Jason's never warned you about the Red Hood. He just tells you to stay away from the area altogether. You don't really need to be warned about Hood anyway. You know what he's about. You know you've probably just sealed your fate tonight.

"What the fuck?" he asks, modulated voice rough.

"I'm sorry," you babble. "Please don't hurt m—"

Gunshots ring out, and you realize you've just stumbled into an active gunfight. With Red Hood.

Fuck your luck.

The gunmen have spotted you, and they take great pleasure in using you as a distraction; they fire at you instead of Hood.

He shields you with his body, blocking the bullets. It works until a flash grenade is thrown, and you're separated from Hood, ears ringing. You hit the ground hard from the impact, scraping your hands and arms.

Someone's arm wraps around your neck, and you're suddenly dragged backward. You scream, scratching at the arm, and a fist thumps your head. You blink at the pain, too dazed to keep fighting.

"We had a deal, Hood!" your captor shouts, arm tightening around your neck. "Let us go or she dies!"

"Negation's over," Red Hood snarls, and shoots all four men.

You cry as the shot echoes too close to your face and for a moment, you fear you've been shot too. The now dead man slips off of you, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Your ankle protests when you step on it. In the chaos of the fight, you hadn't realized you sprained it. You trip and fall on your butt, scrambling away from the pooling blood.

"What are you doing here?" Hood growls at you, stalking closer.

You start to cry, edging backward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your fight, please d-don't kill me—"

You press down hard on your wrist and that hurts more than your ankle. You cry harder at the pain, grabbing your wrist.

Red Hood gets closer, and you try to scramble away with one arm and one leg. He kneels down and holds your good arm in place so you can't move.

"I'm sorry!" you say again, tears thick on your lashes.

"Fuck," Hood says roughly, and unlocks his helmet.

Your eyes widen as he pulls it off.

"J—"

"I told you to never come to this area, and you come alone, in the fucking dark, without a weapon? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason snarls.

"Please don't yell at me," you whisper, covering your face with your hands.

You're shaking, adrenaline turning your stomach. A moment later, you throw up.

"Shit," Jason says and puts a hand on your stomach to help you sit back up. "Shit, I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"I thought you died," you say, daring to look at him. "You weren't answering my calls, and you only go out at night. I thought..."

Jason immediately looks avalanched by guilt. He cradles you to his chest.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've—I thought it would be better, leaving."

"I didn't want you to leave," you cry, arms curling around his neck. "I love you so much, Jay. I was so scared. Don't leave me again."

Jason's breath hitches. You freeze, suddenly sure you've screwed it all up.

"Jay—"

"Y'love me?" he asks, cupping your cheek.

You nod emphatically.

"Even though I'm..." He gestures to the helmet.

"I'm just happy you're alive," you say. "I missed you so much, Jason."

His arms tighten around you. "God, I missed you too, baby. I was going crazy not talking to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. Wasn't right of me. But don't ever do this again, okay? If I hadn't been here—"

He takes a shuddering breath and kisses your neck. You nod against his shoulder.

"I promise. Just don't shut me out again, please."

Jason's quiet for a moment. You can feel him thinking.

"This isn't gonna be normal," he says. "If-if we do this. This is part of me. Who I am."

"I don't care," you say. "I love you, Jay. Every part. Whatever that entails."

[maddogofshimano]

A Tiny Man Among Men: Kiryu Boss Rush

oh boy this one was a real hoot. we got two new cards with it that I want to show off because they’re so fun

look at them!! that’s the fish he caught in the opening of Y3!!!!!

summary: Shortly after moving to Okinawa, Kiryu faces down with his most cunning foe yet--a crayfish.

2007 Not long after Kiryu came to Okinawa... Kiryu was invited by a local resident named Uchima to help with a river clean-up event (tl note: name is 内間)

Kiryu: Uchima-san... Is this the river we're supposed to be cleaning up?

Uchima: Sure is. Filthy, right? It's usually beautiful, but inconsiderate people keep throwing garbage into it. Uchima: It's particularly bad right now... I clean trash out of it every month, but before I know it there's more trash than ever. Kiryu: ...That's awful. Uchima: I think up stream's a bit prettier, so how about you handle that since it's your first time. Kiryu: No, I'm fine right here. You should do the up stream. Uchima: ...Eh? A-Are you sure? I'll take you up on that kind offer, I've been having some awful back pain. Kiryu: Sure. I'll do it. Uchima: Well then, I'll get going, and if you need anything just let me know. Uchima: ...Oh, right. Kiryu-san, please watch out for the animals. Kiryu: ? Watch out for... animals? Uchima: During clean-ups, I've had crows and rats and other such animals knock over the trash and cause all sorts of issues. Uchima: Since these are the elite survivors of all the extermination activities done in this area, a lot of them are strangely intelligent. Uchima: This one time a weasel snuck into our house, got into our fridge, and stole all of our food--and mice have been pooping on the mouse traps, almost like they were making fun of us humans... Kiryu: ...Heh, so it's that kind of situation. I got it. I'll be careful. Uchima: Great, see ya then. <he leaves> Kiryu: ...Alright, let's get to it.

<sounds of Kiryu splashing around in the river> Kiryu: ...Whew. Plastic bottles in a convenience store garbage bag... how can someone just dump this in a river...

Kiryu: Seriously... Who the hell would... <a blade-like sound happens> Kiryu: ...Guh!? What the!? American Crayfish: ................. (tl note: also known as the red swamp crayfish, Procambarus clarkii. I'm shortening it just to crayfish from here on)

Kiryu: A crayfish!? ...It was in the trash's crevice!? <another slicing sound, Kiryu steps to the side> Kiryu: Kh... You're quick on your feet... Crayfish: ..... Kiryu: It's back on top of that garbage again. Kiryu: ...I just want to clean up that trash. I don't mean you any harm... so let's just be adults here...

Crayfish: ....! <some kind of hissing sound?> Kiryu: ...No good. If I reach towards it any further, it will definitely catch me. On the other hand, I can't just leave this garbage here. Kiryu: What can I even do here? <a long moment passes in silence> Kiryu: I've got it. There was some dried squid in the trash I just picked up. I'll use it as bait to draw the crayfish away from here. Kiryu: ........Loook, is this some dried squid? Isn't that tasty? Wouldn't it be nice to eat~?

Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: C'mere, c'mereeee, won't you~? If you won't eat it, maybe I should~? Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: ...No reaction at all. Maybe it's not hungry? (tl note: he's so mad that his plan didn't work)

Kiryu: (If that isn't going to work... Then there's gotta be something else that will guy this guy to move.) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing, and it smacks into Kiryu before bouncing back> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Munch... munch... Kiryu: I-It... took advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration... It took the squid!? Kiryu: Uchima-san said "there are smart animals around here"... don't tell me... this guy's one of them!!?? (tl note: Kiryu. you may be stupid) Crayfish: Shaaaa! Kiryu: ....Excellent. If a battle of wits is what you want, I'll show you what human intelligence is like...! 

<Kiryu ducks down> Kiryu: (...Good, this rock is exactly what I need. Now... Just gotta throw it behind it...) <the rock goes sailing with a comical whistle and a tiny splash> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: (...Great. Now I can catch it when it's distracted and has its back turned...) Crayfish: .............. Kiryu: ............... Crayfish: .................... Kiryu: (It didn't turn around.....!? Could it be... it read my intentions....?) Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: Actually, where is this guy looking...... It's like there's something behind me..... Crayfish: ....! <another hiss and a slicing sound as Kiryu gets crayfish'd> Kiryu: Guh!

Kiryu: (This guy... the moment I turned my head... it went and pinched me on my damn ass...) Kiryu: (Was its gaze a trap...? Did it read my intentions... and then decide to get revenge?) Kiryu: ...What a clever crayfish. Kiryu: ........ Kiryu: ...Heh, you beat me. I guess I'll give up on those trash bags. <Kiryu leaves> Crayfish: ................... Kiryu: (...But, that was just to make it look that way... The moment it lets its guard down... I'll catch it...!) <Crayfish hisses at Kiryu> Kiryu: .....! Kiryu: Mmm... it feels good to stretch out my arms. This hand would absolutely for certain never ever be trying to catch you~. Crayfish: ........... Kiryu: (Yes, its defenses are down... now!) <The crayfish hisses again> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: ....! Mmmm... still just stretching out my arms~.

Kiryu: (Damn... It's not turning around yet... what a distrusting creature.) Kiryu: (Yes... now---) <Crayfish hisses again, now with Kiryu much closer> Crayfish: ....! Kiryu: ...Ahhh~. Stretching my arms feels so good~.

Kiryu: (Damn... this guy... How many times is it going to look back here...) Riverside Resident A: ...That person... What's that person doing? Riverside Resident B: It looks like he's playing "Red Light Green Light" with a crayfish... I wonder if that poor guy doesn't have any friends... Kiryu: (...Shit... The stares of passersby are painful...) Kiryu: (I don't think continuing like this is going to get me anywhere... Maybe it's time to abandon this tactic...) Crayfish: ...Shaashaaa.... Kiryu: (It... waved its pincers like a peace sign... Could it be that this is what it wanted?) Kiryu: (In order to humiliate me, did it play along by pretending to be fooled..?) Kiryu: (Just how smart is this thing... and how the hell do I make it leave?) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing as it leaps onto Kiryu> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Shashaaaa! Kiryu: Guh, this guy... it jumped on me so fast. Kiryu: That was awfully aggressive... I guess you've decided we're total enemies... Crayfish: Sha! .....Shaa? Crayfish: ....Sha!? Sha! Shaaaa! Kiryu: (It... got distracted by a fly... It turned around completely!?) Kiryu: (Heh, no matter how smart it is, in the end it's just an animal... This is my chance... I'm going to catch this thing now!) Kiryu: Haa! <wooshing sound> Crayfish: ....Sha! <slicing sound> Kiryu: Guhh!? Kiryu: (Stupid... I tried to grab hold of its back, but it pinched my hand...) Kiryu: (I was using its blind spot to catch it... how did it know...) Crayfish: Shashashashasha.... Kiryu: Damn... It's doing that gesture again. Kiryu: (You're kidding... was getting distracted by a fly all an act!? Did it use that as a trap so it could attack me when I got near!?) Kiryu: (It's looking down on me... But now I have to admit that it's smart... maybe even smarter than me...) Kiryu: (Even so... there's still a way to do this... there's something in the trash, I'm sure.) Crayfish: Shaaa! <hissing> Crayfish: ....Shaa!? <it falls into the water> Kiryu: ...Wh-! That guy was swinging its arms around as a threat but then... it fell!? Crayfish: Shaa... Shaa... !? Kiryu: And it landed on its back so it seems it can't get back up. Heh, what an unexpectedly stupid move. Kiryu: This time I'm going to catch you...! Haaa! <another whoosh> Crayfish: ...Sha! <a big slicing sound> Kiryu: ...Heh, of course not being able to get back up was an act too. Kiryu: I knew that you'd try to trick me into another attack like that, since you see me as your enemy and look down on me. Kiryu: But... this time I grabbed you not with my bare hands, but with these disposable chopsticks. Kiryu: Bad luck for you. You didn't pinch my finger... just these chopsticks that were thrown in the river! Crayfish: ...!? Kiryu: I'll throw these chopsticks with you still latched on... then I'll be free to finish cleaning up the trash!! Haa!! Crayfish: ...!! Kiryu: (Yes... It's still holding onto the chopsticks...! Take this...!!) <a crunching sound> Kiryu: ....! Crayfish: Sha... Shaaa...! Kiryu: Damn... so the chopsticks were rotten huh... The couldn't withstand the force of the throw and broke...

Kiryu: I was so close to getting this guy out of here... Crayfish: ...Shaa! Kiryu: You're a clever thing, I don't think the same trick will work on you twice. That said, I can't think of any other tricks to try... Kiryu: ...Well, it's fine. I concede. I can't beat you in a battle of wits. Crayfish: Sha? <the music cuts out> Kiryu: ...But, I still have to make this river beautiful. Kiryu: It doesn't matter how many times I get pinched... If I take you head on, I will catch you. Crayfish: ............! Crayfish: Shaaaa!!!!

<EVENT HAPPENS, WHICH IS A BOSS RUSH VS THE CRAYFISH>

Kiryu: Haa... Haa... Haa...!

<Kiryu gets close to the crayfish and grabs it> Crayfish: ....!? Kiryu: ...Whew, I finally caught you. Crayfish: Shaaa! Shaaaa! Kiryu: I'm holding you by your back. You can't get me with your pincers anymore. Kiryu: Finally, I can clean up this garbage... Huh? Small Crayfishes: Shashaa! Kiryu: Inside this garbage there's... baby crayfish... wait, are these your children? Crayfish: Shaa! Shaaa! Kiryu: ....I see. You were just trying to protect them. Kiryu: What I saw as a simple convenience store bag full of garbage was a nest you had to protect. Kiryu: ............ <he sets the crayfish down> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: I'm sorry for causing a disturbance on your turf. Kiryu: I'll tell Uchima-san and the others to leave your garbage alone. Crayfish: ....Shaaa! <fade to black> Haruka: Oh, you're back Uncle Kaz!

Kiryu: ...Yep. I'm home, Haruka. Haruka: You were doing the river clean-up, right? Did you clean a lot? Kiryu: Yes. Though I almost cleaned up too much, and would have taken away an important home for the animals living there... Kiryu: I'm really glad I noticed it soon enough. Haruka: Is that so... I'm glad. You almost became an "invasive species" to that area, Uncle Kaz. Kiryu: ...Invasive species? Haruka: Yep. I learned about it today in science class. Invasive species take away the habitats of the animals who lived there originally. Haruka: That's why it's bad to release non-native species into the wild. Kiryu: ...I see. I don't know much about that, so I'll have to be mindful. Kiryu: By the way, what kinds of non-native species are there? Haruka: Ummm there's... raccoons, and black bass, and snapping turtle, and american bullfrogs... Kiryu: Woah... So even some of the animals we know. Haruka: Oh, and the american crayfish! Kiryu: A... American crayfish!? Haruka: U-Um, yeah. They eat the native species, spread disease, and damage the ecosystem. Kiryu: What the hell... Kiryu: But... It's not like they're trying to cause trouble, right? Kiryu: If you live, you have to eat and you have to get sick... It's not like they can help it if that ends up being an issue. Haruka: ...Wellll... I guess that's true, but...

Kiryu: Besides, I can assuredly say that this one’s devoted to their family. For their family's sake, they had the bravery to stand up to someone bigger than themself. Haruka: ....This one? Kiryu: I don't know if they were male or female, but they were a true man among men. If they were a human, I'd like to share a drink with them... Kiryu: ...I know. Haruka, why don't you come meet them? I'm sure you'll change your mind if you just meet-- Haruka: Uncle Kaz... did something happen with a crayfish?

<END EVENT>

Bonus stuff:

you don’t understand Haruka the yakuza invasive species are just trying to live their lives the only way they can! and sure they might be destructive but what else can they do? maybe that morally gray father figure crayfish was taking care of orphans!!

[babyangelsky]

Color (and Fabric) Coded boys in love get happy endings!

All I have been wanting for the past two months is to see a colorful pattern on Tongrak's body so I could know that his love for Mahasamut is real.

AND THE FINALE GAVE IT TO ME IMMEDIATELY! Look at those blue stripes!

But...

It is not yet time for sunshine and roses. The shirt has solid pockets on its front, and one of those pockets is over Rak's heart. He loves Mahasamut, he's loved him this whole time, but his fear of love and what it means and what it can do to people is still guarding his heart.

He rejects Mut's confession. He desperately attempts to draw up another agreement to shield himself from the love being offered to him, not that it would work anyway. It isn't even needed. His fear has already created a barrier between them just like the frame of the sliding glass doors is.

Mut crosses it as he tries to make Rak understand that what he feels for him is sincere and that none of this was ever about the money. He asks Rak how much he has to pay to get his love and gives all the money back in an absolutely devastating parallel to when Rak offered him increasing amounts of money back on the island to speak central dialect with him.

Only this time, it doesn't work. Rak refuses Mut and his love and physically pushes him back on his side of the barrier.

Tongrak's fear is too great and Mahsamut turns and leaves because as he told Mook, it's not all up to him. He said he would accept a rejection and he does.

He sits at Rak's table and comes to terms with everything and this shot is so brilliant because it's showing us that the house itself and what it represents is a barrier. He followed Tongrak and basically walked away from his life and who he is and we can see that.

There's a pillar and glass between Mut and the multicolored light on the left. The light that's being reflected on the water.

And when he finally leaves, he does so back in his own colorful patterned shirt.

He says goodbye to his friends and his niece and he finally breaks down listening to Meena and her mother talk about how much Tongrak loves romances and the number 8 and its significance to him and it's heartbreaking.

Mahasamut has been bearing all this like a champ but he's only human and all of this is too much. He earned that breakdown and I'm glad he got to be comforted by his baby girl in her colorful patterned dress.

It's incredibly fitting that when we finally see Tongrak wear a color other than black or white is when he comes close to losing Mahasamut's bracelet and really fully realizes what he rejected and threw away.

Even more fitting? The colorful garbage truck.

He hasn't lost the bracelet, of course. Ain't no way Vivi was letting it be thrown away and in not doing so, she finally gets through to Tongrak and gets him to verbalize his fears. She comforts and reassures him and asks him what he's going to do and encourages him to be brave.

And it works!

Look at the difference between Tongrak the first and second time he arrives on the island. This is a man who knows where he is and what he's about!

He doesn't know what to say to Mahasamut or where to even begin but he knows that it's on him to make things clear and he's so scared the whole time but he still tries.

He shows up in front of Mahasamut again and again in his solid textures and again and again he fails. He wants to explain himself to Mahsamut so badly but he simply cannot find the words and he needs to because Mut is hurting and tender and trying to protect himself.

BUT MY BOY AIN'T NO QUITTER!

He finds the words and a way to apologize and explain himself to Mut and he goes to wait on that beach in his textured PATTERNED shirt with no more solid pockets over his heart.

AND MAHASAMUT DOES A CHAMPIONSHIP BL RUN AND THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THEM DISAPPEARS!

Tongrak is still so scared but he musters up all the bravery he can and apologizes face to face and finally FINALLY gives Mahasamut the words that matter.

Tongrak overcame his fear, put on his man's patterns, and finally allowed himself to love and think about a future with the love of his life.

"Home to me is you."

COLOR AND FABRIC CODED BOYS IN LOVE GET HAPPY ENDINGS!

[myloveoffandoms]

Bug Bites and Socks

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader (Female)

Summary: Reader is suck in shorts and is hoping to find something better suited for killing walkers, or in their case avoiding bug bites.

Warnings: Age gap (Could be read different as age isn't mentioned), As always bad grammar.

Tags: ??? You guys tell me.

Word count: 1.4k approx.

A/N: This is post prison era, this is also from my archives (aka word docs i never posted) Only proof read once. The girl in the photo is AI and not necessarily the characters looks but AI was being an ASS when I asked for black knee high socks in combat boots so I decided to just use what I was able to get.

Photo Inspo: https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/2251868556842908/

“Come on. We gotta keep movin’.” Daryl says gruffly, as he looks at me leaning on a tree for support. Every fiber in my body was screaming, telling me to rest but I knew we had to keep moving.

“I know… I just need two seconds” I let my head hang down for a moment.

“One, two. Now come on before we lose daylight.” I roll my eyes at the comment, but a small smile breaks on my face. It was closest thing to a joke I had heard from Daryl in the time that I knew him.

“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny.” Sarcasm dripping from my voice. The man Infront of me scoffs in response. I push off the tree and start walking again. He watches me approach before turning and walking along side me, bow always at the ready.

As we continue, every now and then I have to hit at my ankles and legs from the bugs trying to bite. “If ya wore pants an not shorts you wouldn’t have as many bugs at ya” He grumbles out as he watches me swat off another mosquito.

“Well, running from walkers wasn’t exactly on the itinerary for today.” I say quietly. I was already annoyed with myself for not being more prepared and stuck in dark jean shorts. I didn’t need to be called out on it too. I was on meal prep duty before the prison was attacked, and it was ridiculously warm out at the time shorts didn’t seem like the worst idea, clearly, I was wrong.

“Just sayin’.” Daryl utters out.

“Hey, look” I slow my pace as I see a building through the trees up ahead. Daryl picks up pace some, to see what it was and if anyone or thing was around.

“it’s a house, don’t look like anyone around or inside” he says quietly.

“Scavenge and move on or hold up for the night?” I ask as we approach it slowly.

“let’s see what’s inside first.” He says holding his bow drawn as a single walker staggers out of the woods. He doesn’t waste the arrow and we both run inside the house trying carfully to not draw attention of the undead.

The house had definitely been picked over, dirt and broken items scattered the floors. Furniture ruined or upturned. Daryl went searching in the kitchen I crept slowly upstairs. First room was near empty except mess. The bathroom had nothing but garbage nothing worthy of taking. The second room clearly belonged to a girl. Photos scattered the floor, happy faces. Posters of movies, and bands hung haphazardly on the walls and ripped on floors. I went to the dresser, of course nothing no pants, nothing. I scanned the floor again. I see the closet door hanging off the rack. I walk over and look inside again nothing but garbage or useless items. I scan the shelf nothing, top one I couldn’t see so I carefully run my hand over it my fingers graze over something soft I grab it and pull it down. A ball of black sits in my hands. After a second, I realize its socks.

I hold them in my hand as throwing them from one to the other as I continue to search for anything food, pants, anything at all upstairs. Nothing. Only a pair of black socks.

I go down the stairs to see Daryl slamming an upper cupboard closed. “There ain’t nothin’ here!” He shouts. “What ya find?” He asks eyeing the black ball in my hands.

“Catch. Its socks.”

Daryl catches them with ease and lets out a scoff well doing so. He undoes them to show two extremely long black socks. Daryl looks at them kind of confused for a moment. I quickly go up to him taking them from his hands.

I sit on the back of what was once a couch, I untie my boots and kick them off taking off my ripped socks I had on and setting them on the couch.

“What the hell are ya doin’.” He asks clearly wondering why I so quickly decided I needed to change socks. “Protection from the bugs.” I say as I pull on one of the black socks it sits just below my knee. I quickly put my opposite leg up on the couch pulling the sock up past my calf and letting it snap against my skin when I hit my knee.

I turn to look at Daryl whose gaze slowly climbs from my legs to my eyes. I tilt my head slightly trying to read the emotion on his face. I couldn’t quite place it, he almost looked… hungry. Then it hit me we still haven’t eaten and no food here. He was hungry and probably annoyed at me stopping to change socks.

I lean over and tie my boots. Happen to have some more coverage on my legs. When I finish tying, I stand back up straight, and Daryl still watches me. He swallows hard once and then turns back to the kitchen.

“Sorry…” I mumble out. I don’t think he heard me.

“Lets keep movin’ maybe I can hunt somethin’ before night hits” Daryl grumbles out, heading to the door. I follow behind him.

It was night Daryl was able to catch a few squirrels since we had left the abandon house. Although the days have been warm the nights have been cold and temps been dropping lower and lower as days pass.

I watch Daryl as he leans against a log. He was cleaning his bows and placing them back in their designated spots. I liked watching him sometimes. Even before he was always just so into his own thing. It also helped that I found him undeniably attractive. The brown hair and bluish, green eyes. I shiver as a wind passes through.

I see it blow the hair from his face. I hesitate for a moment before I speak. “Daryl…”

He turns to look at me. “Could I- I mean could… I was..” I mentally roll my eyes at myself for stuttering so much.

“Can ya what?” He asks his full attention on me.

“Well, I was wondering if I could, lay beside you…” He just blinks so I continue to talk “I just mean it’s cold and it would help keep warmth... Never mind bad idea” I say shaking my head.

He watches me for a moment before he sets his knife that laid on his left side over to the right. I close my eyes taking his silence as a no. Then I hear him clear his throat. I open my eyes, and he looks from me to the spot empty on his left.

I lean up slowly and make way over to him then slowly lay beside him. I don’t curl in. but he blocks the wind and just being closer gives some extra warmth.

It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

Third person POV

Daryl tensed when she laid down next to him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about her being so close.

The way she had put her new socks on early made a warmth go through him. Her smiling as she pulled them up and the smirk when she said it was bug protection. It caused a feeling of warmth Daryl wasn’t fully familiar with. Yes, some was in an attraction sense but there was more there.

She laid beside him, her breathing remaining calm and steady as she slept. Daryl pushed himself down on the log some. Enough to keep partial elevated, but also enough to let him rest more.

After a few minutes had passed. She stirred lightly in her sleep turning to face Daryl. She reached out and cuddled into his side. Her head resting on his chest, and a leg over his. He watched as she curled in closer. He remained completely stiff and unmoving. He watched her closely for a moment before relaxing and gently resting his hand on her mid back and side. He couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of having her so close and so at peace with him. Daryl relaxed some allowing himself to close his eyes and rest, with the beautiful girl he’s slowly come to know and holding her close.

[dadsbongos]

the girl next door - t.ino

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - unrealistic dick sucking?, testicles, facial, camgirl/solo star reader, consensual video recording/posting, i still can't do smut without fluff its just a fact word count - 1.8 K / rating - R

Takuma is young. It shows in every possible aspect of his life. His hair is thick and full, his skin is smooth and unweathered, he can’t afford a house so he signed an apartment lease. And finally, he daydreams about his pretty neighbor when he should be focusing on not dying via curse or filing boring paperwork (anytime he has to be a real adult, honestly).

Since the moment you first moved in, he was hooked. Offering to lift all your heavy possessions into your unit right beside his, all for little more than the promise of a cold beer. A beer that you’d offered. He would’ve done the job for free.

Nanami insisted that the initial infatuation would pass as you continued being neighbors. He was wrong.

Takuma’s distractingly massive crush continued to snowball until eventually, he was sure it could be categorized as obsession. But to be fair to him, you fed into it.

Having dinner with him. Checking in after every lengthy mission. Trading spare keys to your apartments. Knocking on his door in the deep dark night when you hear something go bump.

Tonight, it’s his turn to startle out of bed - ears burning with your scream still bouncing around his skull. His skin is prickled and damp with sweat, body still slumping with exhaustion as he clumsily slams towards his front door. By the time Takuma’s exposed to chilly night air, he’s fully awake - thin sleep shirt and boxers doing nothing to protect his shivering limbs.

Maybe it’s the sorcerer in him, but his head immediately goes to the worst; past gutters and garbage pails and dingy avenues and straight into hell. Bodies ripped apart and rotting away. Darkness that lingers through any hour of the day. Caution tape he and Nanami could be ducking under to perform their own investigation.

He slips through your door - barely able to hear the sounds of your whimpering and huffing over his own labored breaths.

A plain white door seals your noises. The door you’ve told him leads to nothing more than a boring guest room. Another yelp draws Takuma to the metallic knob, it’s cold in his hand.

Takuma is young. Reckless and blindly following his instinct. He thinks he’s mature and seasoned as a sorcerer, and he doesn’t stop to consider more plausible explanations when he’s already certain you’re in danger.

Preferably, when he barged in - you’d still be unharmed and he could save the day and finally work up the courage to make things official.

When Takuma barges in you’re unharmed, but more eye-catching than that - you’re not in need of saving. At all.

A man with long, flowing black hair that you’d once introduced as an old high school friend glares up at him from a chair in the corner. In front of the boy is a camera on a tripod. In front of the camera, is you on your back - arched up - hips tittering and twitching against the vibrator strapped cruelly to your clit.

“Uh- hah?” you look up, eyes glazed as your muscles seize up and legs clench shut, hips bucking wildly against the stubborn buzzing, “‘kuma!”

The man sitting behind the camera throws his hands up, evidently frustrated, before shutting off the vibrator.

Takuma clenches his eyes shut, both to block out the sight and memory of you calling his name as you came, “Shit- sorry!”

He rushes back out the room, only pausing when he hears your voice - a little cracked and raw, “Hey, wait!”

You’re clenching a silky crimson sheet over your shoulders as if the thin, draping material could possibly leave much to the imagination. As if he hadn’t seen and heard positively everything, you shyly avoid meeting his eyes before asking in that fried voice,

“Does this change anything?”

Rearing his head back in shock, Takuma immediately denies, shaking his head vigorously, “What?” his head bends down a little, desperately trying to find your gaze, “That you make porn?” he rubs the back of his neck, “Nah, just embarrassed I- you know…”

You do know.

You hum, squeezing the sheet tighter around your bare body. Pure boyishness in his flustered nature, something polite and sweet and youthful. All tongue and tenderness. It makes you want to tear him up between your canines. See just how embarrassed he can get.

“If you’re ever interested, then you can be in a couple.”

You almost wish you had the camera pointed at Takuma to catch his adorable jaw drop, “For real?!”

…

“There’s something very special about this video,” you tilt your head, resting it against your shoulder, “I’d like to introduce someone.”

Reaching out, you snag Takuma by the shirt and drag his stiff body closer to your side. He stumbles into frame, watching with wide eyes as his hard cock bobs by your face. Your smile is nothing but sly, dripping sex appeal as you bat your lashes at the camera. He feels hot, entirely unused to the feeling of this faux third presence in the bedroom. The nerves settle into something more familiar when you reach up, lovingly scathing your nails across the thick planes of his bare thighs.

You press your cheek against the reddening skin, a shadow casting across your eyes and nose as his erection hangs above your face. It twists the unpleasantness in his gut back to arousal. Nice, warm, familiar arousal. Running the tip of your index finger along the underside all the way to his drooling slit, “My newest toy. And if this goes well, then he might just become a regular addition.”

He knows what you mean. But the intimidation factor still rests heavily in his muscles. He knows you wouldn’t dump him over what your viewers had to say; but as he stares at that shiny lens, he feels that delusional angst begin clawing up from the bottom of his throat.

Then he feels your soft lips press against the ticklish spot on his hip. A soft dew is left behind by your gloss, and he briefly wonders how many times he’d be called an idiot if he got the residue’s imprint tattooed.

Your previous teasing grin morphs into something more genuine. Your boyfriend’s red in the face with both hands stuffed behind his back to avoid obstructing the camera’s view of its star.

“Try to relax for me, yeah?” you mutter against his skin, “Trust me - the best stuff is when you’re really enjoying yourself.”

He tries to grin, but the pounding of his heart is too obnoxious to ignore, “Don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

“You won’t,” you straighten up on your knees, petting a hand down the back of his thigh, “You can watch it back if you want. If you don’t like it, it won’t go up.”

His shoulders loosen, he nods, “Yeah, yeah - okay!” suddenly, he’s looking back at the camera, “You won’t leave this in, right?”

“‘Course not,” you kiss his hip bone again, “Just relax and have fun, baby. Best stuff is all raw.”

You lean up on your knees, pooling frothy spit to the perch of your lips and letting it dribble over the warm, flushed head of Takuma’s cock. Your hand spreads the mess down his length while your tongue strips up the underside of him. Kissing his cockhead before sliding your boyfriend into your mouth.

He whines a little, hips subconsciously bucking deeper into your warm maw. His tip pops past the rim of your throat and his arms come up and press against his lips, trying to smother down the whimpers that claw for escape.

The weight of his cock slides along your tongue, and you hum at the feeling. At the heated skin seering your soft mouth.

Hollowing your cheeks and curving his cock down your throat, you take earnest delight in how Takuma shudders seeing your nose pressed against his dark pubes. Pulling back, you press your tongue into the underside of your boyfriend, and let the saliva gurgling past your lips pool into the palm of your hand. Once wet, your hand comes up to Takuma’s balls and bathes them with attention.

He moans this time, cheeks reddening at the sound as he glances towards the camera shyly. Aiming to take his mind off the embarrassment, you slip yourself back down to the base of his dick. Thighs squishing together at the burgeoning heat from his lewd mewls.

Saliva oozes past your plumped, raw lips and drips down your chin. Takuma wants to politely wipe it away, but he’s too preoccupied trying not to humiliate himself by cumming already. You unsheath his cock from your throat again, and he’s ready to bitch out between his moans when you swap your hand and mouth.

Your warm tongue envelopes his balls while your hand fucks his cock. You let the wet, hot, smooth skin brush over your cheek and temple and the messiness of it sends tingles over your boyfriend’s spine. One of his hands darts over yours, squeezing tightly around his dick, while the other finds the back of your head. He whimpers and bucks and you’re not acting when you perk up in excitement.

Licking back up to the head of his cock, you let Takuma take over jerking himself off, and decide to give him more eye candy to finish off the video.

“Cum for me, honey,” you coo, hands squeezing and pulling at Takuma’s thick thighs like putty, “Want it, want ya to cum for me.”

Takuma’s chest is beet red in constant flux as he heaves and whimpers, tugging his cock over your face. His eyes are low and fluttering with lips pink and wet, rounding and stretching into the prettiest little ‘O’ for you. His eyes crinkle shut and his head is thrown back with a final moan when the first spurt of cum hits your cheek.

You moan, mostly for added effect rather than pure enjoyment, as Takuma milks the last of his orgasm onto your lolled tongue and hot cheeks. When no more splatters out onto your face and the overstimulation starts to burn at him, Takuma takes his hand away. You turn to the camera, swallowing the cum on your tongue.

When you feel stray flecks of cum beginning to run down your brow, you close your eyes and try to wipe where you feel the mess.

Takuma gasps - air washing consciousness back into his jittering body - eyes falling down onto your face. Both eyes scrunched and skin painted in sticky streaks.

“Ah, shit,” Takuma yanks his pants up, ignoring the unpleasant sensation in favor of dashing through your apartment for one of your older towels. The ones you keep specifically to clean up nasty messes. He wipes away the cum with a damp towelette, then dries you off with a separate one, “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda gross…”

“Babe,” you snicker, “I literally told you to do it.”

He scoffs, continuing to dab at water trickling down your face, “Yeah, but the clarity I just got - like if a guy did that to me? Holy shit.”

You laugh again and he feels the hot fire of pride ignite in his chest, “Be fair, you’re not into men.”

“Okay, but if I was,” he pecks your lips when he’s sure none of his cum clings along your skin, “I still can’t be disrespecting my hot breadwinner girlfriend, you know?”

~~

i <3 takuma. begging gege to spare him

[nrdmssgs]

König x tattoo artist reader

Masterlist

This started as a headcannon, but has grown into a brief scenario. There is a bit a of pet play happening down there, but i've tried to keep it light

Once he found out about your job, there is no way back. Man practically begs you to show him any new thing, you're working on. Congratulations, you've got your biggest fan from now on.

In Königs` opinion, not only was he lucky enough to get the best person out there, he was the luckiest one to see how your ideas are born! And he LIVES for that moments.

He sees your projects as something, that should be displayed in a museum.

Yes, Louvre, he is looking at you. It's high time you open new rooms for his Schatzs`* works to be displayed in!

"König, I thought, I threw out that sketch. C`mon, man, it's garbage, nobody needs it!"

"Nein! I'm keeping it! It's mine from now on!"

Secretly keeps a whole pile of scraps of paper, crumpled sheets, napkins you threw away while sketching.

He is interested in your entire creative process: from the first sketches to photo sessions with healed works. Bombards you with questions. "Is there any differences in a result if you draw two same sketches with a pencil and a thin brush?", "What do you like to tattoo the most?", "Where do you draw inspiration from?".

He brings albums with views of the nearest cities and just books with beautiful photographs and reproductions from every airport and train station when he travels (which is really often).

If you had not a huge library of inspirational sources before meeting him... you better buy a few new bookcases.

He never considered getting inked, especially not by you, no... To put your masterpiece on his calloused and scarred skin would be a sacrilegious act. No, he can't even dare to think of it...

Until one day, when he is sitting at your tattoo studio, minding his own business waiting for the end of your working day, like a good boy, when an old customer of yours arrives. You greet them warmly, give them a hug. And you say this one phrase, which is an old and silly joke between you and that customer...

"C`mon, lets get you marked." You say and take the customer to your room.

At this moment, something clicks in Koenig's head.

He tries not to think about it for the next few weeks, but fails. Because when you put it that way... To be marked as yours by your divine art, to wear that traces of your touch for eternity... His heart flips every time this idea reappears in his head.

You notice that lately he is often lost in his thoughts, and a light blush touches his cheeks.

So one of these times, you're having breakfast and can't help but notice that look on his face. "Koenig, are you alright? You look... lost."

"Oh?", he shudders. "No-no, I'm fine, just thinking..."

After some persuasion, you manage to draw out an indistinct "How much do you think it will cost ... to get a tattoo at your place?" out of him.

"It depends on which artist you have in mind... but you know, there are some perks in dating one." And before he is able to process that, you add, "I'm not taking your money, love. Tell me, what was on your mind, what you wanted to see on you?"

His answer was ready long ago. "Anything! As long as it's yours. Anything you could leave on me."

You try to get anything more specific, but he is really happy for any piece, that will remind him constantly, that you are not a figment of his imagination, that you exist, and you want him by your side.

You decide to start with something small, so that he can always cover that, if he feels like it.

Later that week you flip the pages of your album, that you are using just for ideas for his body (as the professional you would never try to convince him to get inked, the decision must be fully his, but nobody can stop you from fantasizing, how could you decorate that gorgeous body of his) in your studio, as he comes.

"Hi there, love. Haven't changed your mind?" you greet and embrace him. He is so excited, he almost shakes. "Nein, Schatz! I would never." he answers, pulling you in a tighter embrace.

So far he is your most trusting and content client. You barely make him look at the sketch after you made its copy on his arm. He wanted the reveal to be a surprise for him after you finish the whole tattoo, but you refused to proceed with the main process without obtaining his consent to this particular idea.

But when he sees the sketch on his skin, the man is speechless. Yes, you were always so very gifted in his eyes, but this... So simple, yet this idea is exactly, what he's been dreaming of. Two words superimposed on each other. Curves of letters, merging into the most intimate sounds that have ever flown from your lips ...

Good thing, he isn't afraid of blood, and has a pretty high pain threshold. So he sits there absolutely still, admiring every second of you working on him.

He is almost afraid to move, he desperately tries to calm his rushing heart down. What you do to him right now is sacred and divine to König. You are leaving your mark and you are not to be interrupted in any way.

So even when a little sweat drop slides down his temple, he doesn't flinch.

You notice it and decide to give the man a break. You give him a towel, pour a glass of water and ask him if it hurts. He tries to answer, but his voice is raspy because of dry throat.

"I-I... khhhmm, I'm fine. Go on, please!"

It's when your gaze slips down his body and you notice it. He enjoys it, he painfully enjoys it.

That's when you put your machine away and lean closer to him.

"I see, someone is having a good time...", you whisper, putting your hand oh sooo close to his hardness. "Looks like a pet just wants to be branded so badly."

Königs face grows bright red. He tries to mask the fever burning under his skin, to not disturb your work, but it is impossible, when you are so close, and you have him completely at your mercy. Your hand is almost touching him. Almost, but not yet. He looks away, embarrassed, aroused, panting. Silently praying for your mercy.

You grin. Poor thing is desperate for your touch in any way. "Now you be good and let me finish this work, ok?"

König nods quickly and covers his erection with the free arm.

"Did I let you hide yourself, pet?" you seem to look in the other direction, but notice his notion and correct him in a flash.

"You will sit here still as I work, you will look at me, and you won't cover yourself unless you're said so", you purr as you continue working.

When you are done, the man is a mess. He is breathless, he can only mumble and curse under his breath. You wipe off blood trails from a fresh tattoo on his arm and lean away to appreciate the result.

It's nothing really fancy, but it is a good start, if he ever decides, he wants more ink (he already has, believe me).

"You like it, love?"

Königs eyes are completely transfixed on your work. He slowly looks up at you. "Schatz... am I dreaming? This is ideal. H-how can I?"

You cut him off: "You'll thank me by caring right for it. No rubbing, no swimming, no touching the bandage till I let you... and no extensive physical activity for you for today. I'll bring you the lotion this evening, so be good and wait for me at home."

He looks at you with the most obedient eyes and just silently nods.

"One last thing." You go behind him, he is still sitting in the chair. You lean towards his ear and whisper, "Don't you dare touch yourself without me. Furthermore, you sit and wait for me." Your hand slides down his torso and his breath hitches. "This is all mine, pet. And now you have a constant reminder of that." 

*Schatz - treasure

[emiplayzmc]

Okay so I blacked out and 3 whole drawings were sitting in my files.

ANYWAY, AU LORE TIME YIPPEEE

So, in this AU, everything happens as normal for Spamton and the Addisons. Spamton is a little Addison struggling in business, he rises to the top and disowns his family (my main four Addisons), and then the Caller disappears, leaving Spamton to spiral to the bottom and eventually disappear too.

However, when the Blue Addison, Sample, goes to the Mansion and hears the garbage noise, something... different happens.

Continued Under the Cut.

Of course, to Sample, it's just a garbled mess.

But after Spamton disappears, he's the only one to fervently and openly look for Spamton, while Pink flat out refuses to acknowledge him publicly, Orange doesn't do anything for fear of upsetting the others (but secretly hoping he returns), and Yellow works to help Sample, but not as desperately.

Blue / Sample works around the clock to try and find him. Even staying up late to search around the city everywhere. But, he turns up nothing...

...until he stumbles through a random door in an alleyway.

There is a man there. He seems curious to see Sample. He offers to help Sample and give him the answers and the truth as to what he desires. And Sample accepts the offer. Anything to help him find his brother.

He blacks out, and then wakes up at his apartment at his desk, and just assumes that he had the strangest dream, fueled by his desperation and lack of sleep lately.

That doesn't explain why there was a strange, murky, see-through crystal on his desk when he woke up, though. Nor why he can hear unclear, quiet whispers from it.

----

Anywho... basically the AU is that Sample makes a deal with Gaster and gains a Shadow Crystal. For better or for worse? Who knows! But I sure had fun drawing these three bad boys. Obviously the first one with the tree is my favourite! Hope you guys enjoy!

[moodymisty]

(This isn't a request, just some Konrad daydreams driven by 4am insomnia that had me screeching and I just have to share with someone while I wait for my meds to kick in!!)

Your recent post about the stinky rat man got me thinking of something truly, hilariously awful: Konrad's favorite meow meow is a PERPETUAL.

Maybe he watches her die. Maybe he accidentally kills her himself. Whatever happens, he'd probably be losing. his. fucking. mind.

..And then she comes back. Oh god, I'm loving imagining at how truly deranged he would be over that. I know he tortures Vulkan SUPER HARD after finding out he's a perpetual, but that seemed driven a lot by "You think you're good and noble(and sane)? I'll drag you down to my level."

I wonder if he'd mistake her as some kind of phantom/delusion brought on by grief and madness at first. Extra comedy: he accidentally(purposely?) kills her again while freaking out over her showing back up alive LMAO. Meow meow can't catch a fuckin' break with this man.

Now I'm wondering how a few other primarchs would react to something similar though

Sanguinius and his sons in mourning and his dead wife just shows back up like "Why did you bury me alive?!" completely unaware she DIED.

Perturabo's shitass sons being like "I told you it was a waste of time!" and then the horror of realizing they didn't escape their step-mom after all.

I'd assume all the primarchs would try to find out what the fuck happened, and maybe go to Malcador for information once they start drawing blanks? Idk.

Fulgrim would so cute, just hyped as fuck. "I have a wife? That won't get old and die before me?? I don't have to lose this one???" Bonus points if she's the last one he was going to marry because he got too heartbroken seeing his wives get old and die over and over 😫 the queen and her corgis vibe forreal

I can't really figure out Mortarion even though he's one of my faves. On one hand, WITCH!! On the other hand,he'd be so relieved the One Good Thing in his life isn't actually gone forevet..

Oh my g o d. Lorgar. Thefucking goddess shit would go CRAZY. Kor Phaeron slamming his head against a wall because he thought he finally WON. HOW DID SHE DO THAT? Some of his followers getting spooked about being rid of her because s u r e l y it was the Powers who orchestrated such a miracle... So maybe she is meant to be here? Uh oh.

Guilliman is another one I'm just like ????. All I can think of, is he'd quietly go find Emps/Malcador and be like "whattheFUCK? explain?please?how?"

It might be because I'm heavily sedated but it's all sO funny to think about. Some legions quietly rejoicing because The Distraction is gone and shejust. Comes back 😭

But can you imagine the parties thrown by the ones who really loved their legion mothers?! And you thought theFUNERAL was extravagant..

Im not sure what time it is there but I hope you slept well and have a good morning! Sorry forcthis stream of consciousness garbage by theway LOL but you always have such cool takes on things I couldnt help muself

This a joy to read friend, I have nothing to add.

Lorgar in particular with a perpetual beloved would be fucking INSANE. His whole religious trauma would be going wild as well as even some of the more apprehensive Word Bearers might be a bit more, respectful.

Imaging Vulkan's wife ends up coming back a few weeks after they desperately mourned her loss, and it's time for the galaxy's largest hug. They form a line.

[charliedawn]

What if the slashers kept a journal ?

Bo was taking care of one of the employees' car—which had a flat tire—when you decided it was the perfect time to do a round check of all the bedrooms. All of the slashers had to keep a journal and you thought it would be alright to just give it a quick look to see their progress.

However, Bo's journal seemed very well hidden and then, you found out that his desk was slightly off-centred. It was by palming haphazardly the underneath of his desk that you found the journal—hidden inside a secret compartment he had surely crafted himself.

"You clever clock.", you whistled admiratively with a proud smile. You then opened it and frowned as you noticed that the first page was blank...and the second...and the third. Why was it empty ?!

"Can I help ya ?"

You were surprised to hear Bo's voice behind you and quickly turned around. He eyed the journal in your hands and looked up at you before blinking several times. He seemed to catch up quickly on what you were doing by how guilty you looked.

"Anythin' interesting in there, nurse?"

However, instead of replying, you threw the journal on the bed scurried off of the room as quickly as you had entered it. As soon as the door was locked, he smiled and walked to his desk. He checked that his real journal was still there—hidden underneath some mechanical engineering book—and smiled when he realized it was...

He chuckled knowingly.

"Noisy lil' darlin'."

In Vincent's journal, there were merely animal pics and various unreadable scribbles. You couldn't possibly read the things written, so you focused on the photographs and smiled at the various subjects...until you arrived to the last days' entries. Now, you knew Vincent to be easily obsessed. He had once followed a bird for hours—only to draw a sketch of it. However, you had never seen him get obsessed over an actual human being—until today.

There were only photographs of you.

You. Eating.

You. Talking.

You...Sleeping.

Oh...You blushed and promptly closed the journal before hiding it back underneath his pillow. However, when you turned around—you fell face to face with Vincent.

He looked successively between you and his pillow and finally, it clicked. He tried stop say something—but by then, you were already gone. You had snuck past him. He stood still for a second or two before re-opening the diary. He gently stroke the last photograph he had taken of you—smiling at him.

It was his best one yet...

Sex jokes. So many sex jokes. You thought that man would take the time to write profound meaningful things ? Ah ! Joke's on you.

However, he smiled when he saw you reading his diary. He stayed there for a moment before creeping his way in and surprising you by suddenly pulling your head back.

"Haven't you heard the expression curiosity killed the cat, sweetheart ?", he asked with a threatening grin and you shrugged.

"Haven't you heard bastards usually get cooked ?", you shot back.

At this point, you didn't give a toss that he had caught you—with the amount of garbage you had read. His whole brain needed to be purged in holy water.

"It doesn't make any sense.", he snarled and you offered him a sweet smile before taking a lighter on the table.

"Yes. It means let me go, Krueger...before I burn you somewhere that REALLY hurts.", you his in-between meaningfully—but it didn't seen to be efficient. It only spurred him on as he closed the door with his foot.

"Hmm...Nah. Don't think I will."

No need to say...Freddy got more than one additional burn that day.

Brahms was so discreet—you didn't notice when he approached you from behind. He glanced at what page you were on and realized it was a part when he described you.

Curious. Nice. Beautiful...

You smiled at the compliments, but realized that he had missed the point of the exercise. It was to focus on himself and reach deep. However, Brahms didn't like people reading his secrets.

His chest heaved heavily and in a matter of seconds, your back was against the door and he had removed his mask. You wanted to read all about his secrets ? He would make you sing yours.

Jason mostly wrote random words he learned. He couldn't make full sentences yet—but he mostly tried to write words and various emotions or actions of the day.

Cutting. Eating. Cooking.

He didn't like making sentences—so he usually only writes down random words. He described people he met, places he went to and his feelings.

You smiled.

He might be the only one who had listened to you and tried to fill their journal with what they felt. You flipped quickly through the different entries until you reached the final one. You were then pleasantly surprised by finding a few sentences. But that pleasant feeling quickly disappeared when you read.

'Hello, mommy. I have friends now. I think you would like them. And I...I met someone. I think you'd like them too. They like us. They take care of us. I miss you. But I...I think I'll be alright.'

You let out a few tears as you imagined Jason writing those words. He had learned so much and you weren't afraid to say that you were proud of him. And you were sure his mother would be too if she could see him.

Michael could smell you. He knew you had been in his room and every single thing you touched. The scent lingered on his diary and on one page in particular—one he didn't think was that important.

It was a photograph. A photograph of all the slashers reunited on Christmas. It was also the only day Carrie and Sadako were allowed in the facility.

Jason had taken that photograph before giving it to Michael as a present. He is completely forgotten about it, but smiled faintly at the realization that you had chosen this page in particular made it special.

He sighed before sitting on his bed and closing the journal. He looked out at the garden where you were helping Freddy with the bad weed.

You looked so...perfect. And that made you precious in Michael's mind—but also dangerous. He had this urge to protect you clashing with the need to kill you. It was exhausting to keep that last urge at bay, and he was afraid of what he might do if you were to ever know about his feelings...But, he wasn't worried.

You would never feel the same...right ?

Jack writes down everything—and I mean everything. He can fill an entire book about his day. He also has a big memory and can remember the tiniest of details.

That was the reason why you had decided to read his entries—in case he would have written something you had missed.

What you found inside made your eyes widen.

He had studied them all. And it wasn't just moments. It was fully-detailed portraits. Physical. Mental. Psychological...He had recorded ever trait, every change...And not only about the slashers or the other patients.

But the staff as well. And of course, you. You learnt that he had memorized everything to you taste of cake and the type of clothes you wore for every occasion. It was impressive—but also rather worrying.

"Well well...Wasn't expecting any visitors."

You turned around swiftly add found him standing there with a smug look on his face. He didn't seem to mind you reading his journal. He simply tilted his head with a knowing smirk and you let the journal fall to the floor before slowly backing away.

"I was just..." His eyes didn't leave yours before he stepped out of the way.

"Here you go, nurse. You can go."

You eyed the door suspiciously. Could you...really ? But, you didn't want to stay and ask—so you walked out. Jack's eyes followed you until you were out of view before smiling and picking his journal back up.

New entry: Nurse Y/N doesn't seem to be very happy about being the studied subject for once...

Pennywise hadn't written anything. You were partly disappointed, but not that surprised. Pennywise didn't like sharing—and that was even with himself. He was complicated and he refused to acknowledge his own feelings.

But, that was okay.

You closed the diary and looked at Pennywise who was sitting in his favorite rocking chair and was staring ahead at things you couldn't fathom.

Maybe were there ghosts of his past ? You didn't know. Maybe would he open up some day. But, you'd wait until then.

They ran. They all ran. And I chased after them. Their little hearts pounded loudly in their chests as I trapped them. Their wide eyes fixed on me.

You had mainly a lot of notes on his time when he had to face the Losers' club. Penny was oddly specific on the gore details of his past kills. But, you needed to understand him—so you digged dipper.

You read everything—everything until you found something truly important.

I'm losing my memory...Pennywise says it's normal. But, I can't even remember who I was before. What was my name ? I think I was a clown...But, I don't know anymore. I think I had a daughter. But, I don't remember her name.

Penny was...losing his memory ? You looked up and saw him playing with the other younger slashers in the garden. He was smiling and carelessly chasing after them. But, what if...there was more to him than you had initially thought ?

Ghostface had refused to show his face to anyone. You had simply wanted to get to know him better. You knew that searching though his personal entries for answers wasn't really nurse-worthy...But, he refused to open up. However, before you could read as much as a few words—he had grabbed the diary from your hands and pressed his knife against your throat.

"Now now...nursy. Spying ? That's not very ethical of you.", he teased and you closed your eyes.

He seemed pissed by the way his voice became slightly more high-pitched and you knew that you should be afraid—but something else crossed your mind.

"What is you favorite scary movie ?", you muttered and Ghostface tilted his head quizzically.

"...What ?"

You slowly turned around to face him fully and he didn't stop you.

"That is the question you ask to all the patients. The question you always ask to everyone you meet. Are you...", you looked up—even though you couldn't really judge his reaction. "...searching for someone ?"

Ghostface stayed uncharacteristically quiet for a moment before clenching his fists.

"Leave. Now.", he uttered in a quiet whisper and you didn't dare defy him—as you knew by the way he had suddenly tensed up that you weren't welcome anymore.

The moment you were out, he slammed the door and locked the door before removing his mask and throwing it to the ground angrily. He was was conflicted. He was ashamed that you had succeeded in seeing right through him so quickly. And, he couldn't tell you—not yet. He opened his diary and sighed. He couldn't tell you that the answer he was searching for was Psychose. 1960. His father's favorite scary movie.

It was the only information he had—that and that he was a patient in St Louis. He looked up at the ceiling and suddenly threw the diary in the fire heating up the room.

No one would know. He wouldn't risk it.

[trialnumbergamma]

some more old art I made that I never posted, they were gonna go with like an official twst oc introduction but I never pulled the trigger even though I've already posted stuff for him? I think I was embarrassed or something XD I dont care now so here's eli there's old lore about him under the cut if you're interested I use him cross fandom but his personality is pretty consistent

oh I think ace's bday is around the time i've scheduled this so happy birthday bitch 🎉

these have been in my draft for like two years

He’s mexican american so he def feels out of place in what’s basically fantasy brittan

He’s pretty excitable but he’s pretty shy so the majority of people think he’s quiet while aduce get treated to the info dumping /exited reactions

Deuces dedicated hype man

Aces magic trick Guinea pig

He’s a human garbage can so he grades pretty easy in master chef unless it’s mexican cus it’d be an insult to the ancestors

He didn’t really know how to deep clean before moving into ramshackle so that was a learning curve

He’s not super skilled at cooking but he leans fast

He treats grim like an annoying little cousin he was left in charge of but absolutely adores him

He lost it ch 6

Eli never really had close friends before so he didn’t take his friendship with aduce seriously til the end of ch 4 cus he couldn’t fathom why they’d travel all the way to the school if they didn’t care about him so ch 5 onwards hes super protective of them

It takes him a little longer to warm up to the rest of the first years but he’s really happy to be in a friend group

ram is the dedicated sleepover spot which results in 3 am shenanigans around campus

no the well has always had a broken roof idk what you're talking about

he relies heavily on other people’s reactions to know how an interaction is going so inexpressive people high key scare him

He has no idea what’s going on but he likes potions class the most

Like said before he’s really bad at taking photos

Cater tried teaching him but gave up at 3 quarters rule and basic lighting

Tried using rooks bow once but couldn’t cus rooks bow has like a 80 draw strength and elis only done like 25

really bad texter like use more then one word responses please kalim thinks you hate him