#for context i just moved out of an apartment with three cats

[angelpuns]

I'm puppy sitting and the amount of nervous breakdowns I've had just proves I should not have a pet rn

[secretlovezz]

You know how you've written for Simon's S/O with a cat right. Well what if the cat one day dies, how would he comfort the reader?

As someone who has a cat I cry when I think about him leaving me behind (he's three lol but still) I love my baby and I can't imagine losing him.

Thank you for the request btw and i hope i did your ask justice 🫶❤️

Simon knows that "Your baby" is a little on the older side but because of the animal's usual rambunctious behavior, he had always figured he'd be around for some years longer. The "little devil" as Simon liked to call him was always on the move never too tired like some older animals might get, he never stopped eating -Simon had told you on multiple occasions that he felt your cat was getting fatter every time he looked at him- and with the number of times your boyfriend had lost something only to find your cat took it out of pure spit -and love- he definitely thought he'd be around longer.

So when he's leaving a meeting with the rest of the one-four-one and sees he's missed about fifteen calls from you and twenty-three panicked messages about your pet it's safe to say he's worried.

He's calling you back almost immediately his feet tapping on the ground harshly and when you pick up the phone his heart drops. You're sobbing in a way he's never heard before hyperventilating while trying to speak to him but the lack of air you're taking in is prohibiting you from being coherent. He could tell that the hand you were holding your phone in was shaking from the way your voice wavered with the movement. He's telling you to breathe, to take a deep breath in and out with him but his voice is going in one ear, and out the other, and you struggle to take in what he's saying from being too distraught.

For a moment Simon is lost, not with what happened he knows how to use context clues but he's lost on how to comfort you and he hates himself for it. The love of his life needs him and he's failing.

"-need you."

Simon blinks out of his little trance quickly entangling himself back into what you're saying, "What," he asks, he feels horrible for asking you to repeat yourself.

"I really need you here Simon," you hiccup through your sentence sniffling through more salty tears.

"Okay," He replies and though the both of you stop speaking after his brief response he never hangs up the phone he knows you don't want him to. Moving quickly now trying to catch up with Price before he locks himself in his office for the night Simon tries not to seem as panicked as he is but his eyes must give off the energy or maybe it was the phone still pressed up to his masked ear but Price wordlessly tells him to go before walking into his office and closing the door.

Now he's speed walking on the brink of jogging to get to his truck so he could see you. He makes sure to ignore any distractions including Johnny who tries to ask the lieutenant what his problem is.

When he is finally in his truck he breaks at least three laws to get to your apartment quicker, to get to you quicker and even as he drives he keeps you on the phone listening and trying to calm your cries but nothing he says seems to work and once again he feels like he's failing you. You'd hate to say it out loud but you barely listen to your boyfriend's attempts to comfort you out of pure shock and heartache.

Before long he's swinging his car into park, turning off his vehicle, and running up the stairs of your apartment building skipping steps and loudly stomping his way to his distressed lover.

Simon just about breaks the key hole shoving his key into it and grips the handle so tight he thinks it might snap off as he swings the door open, he finds you hunched over on the floor in front of the cat tree tower looking into the cubby. You're staring into it, eyes widened seemingly absentminded but Simon knows better he knows your mind is currently running a mile a minute he knows that whatever you see in that cubby you blaming yourself for whatever reason.

As he starts moving toward you his steps are dead silent in comparison to the way he had barged in not even minutes ago. He's moving as carefully as possible and then crouching down beside you, once again silently. Fat salty tears appear there and then in your eyes and drip down your face when Simon moves an arm around your shoulder pulling your shaking body into him. His hand rubs up and down your arm and he moves his still-masked face -he realizes- into your hair.

He peeks at what you are staring at and when he sees a still ball of fur curled up with one of your favorite scarves propping the little animal's head up he quickly hides his face back into your hair and you turn your face into his shoulder in response letting out a muffled and broken sob.

He's not sure what to say so he says what anyone would, "I'm Sorry, 'm so sorry, love."

The sound of his voice in person, here with you, makes you cry even harder. You don't know what to do with yourself You grab and pull at Simon's clothes and makeup and tears smear across his sweater.

Your lover is moving to pick you up before you can even realize he is moving. Your legs and arms wrap around him instantly and your face shoves itself further against his neck your nose rubbing back and forth to move his balaclava up so you could feel his skin against yours. He slowly brings you to your bedroom your gentle giant of a boyfriend holding you like the softest most delicate flower worried if he wasn't careful your petals would fall and wither.

Simon maneuvers one of his hands from under you and sets your duvet back, he lays you down on your sheets, puts your head against a pillow, and watches you curl in on yourself with a sigh. He presses a lingering kiss on your forehead while his hands push your hair from your eyes to reveal your heart-achingly sad face before covering your body with your duvet.

He stares at you for a moment opening and closing his mouth trying to figure out what to say before he finally asks, "Need to move him... that okay?"

You don't answer, it's like your staring through him.

Simon sighs again but this time it's unexpectedly shaky, leaving the room he closes the door behind him and rubs a hand down his face.

Simon leaves the apartment with a box that has him feeling particularly empty but when he returns he's empty-handed and even emptier than before.

He feels heavy when he takes off his boots and locks the door. His steps are also heavier than he would normally let them be as he walks back to your bedroom. You're in the same position he had left you in before he moved your cat still staring at nothing.

Your boyfriend walks to the bed and hesitates on whether or not he should climb into bed with you despite desperately wanting to hold you.

"Si...?"

You swear your lover's head has never popped up quicker to the sound of your voice. The two of you make eye contact with each other and his eyes only leave yours when your arms reach out from the blanket towards him. He lets himself slip under the duvet wraps one of his arms around you and cradles your head to his chest. Your legs tangle themselves with his and your arms twist around his torso. You squeeze him tight like you're scared he'll disappear if you let go and he squeezes back holding you even tighter in his strong arms.

Simon pats the back of your head lovingly and it helps your shoulder sag and makes your hold on him loosen.

"I love you, dove," once again his words make your eyes water and your bottom lip quiver. He trips over his words a little when he speaks next a little worried they'll sound insincere, "It- you'll be okay, it'll be alright."

He's rocking you back and forth a little now and soon enough your breathing is evening out your lips parted from your cheek being squished against his firm chest. Your hushed cries and whimpering have stopped and the room is now silent but this silence leaves him feeling a little uneasy.

---------

A week later Simon stands behind you after just having buried your baby and he holds you all the way back to the car after you leave flowers on the fresh dirt.

[bangchansslut6]

BIMBO!!

PART ONE OUT OF THREE.

Okay so I'm finally writing this fic!! I want to warn you guys that it won't be the best and probably won't make much sense so I'm sorry for that!! Hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

BIMBO - An attractive but stupid woman (To all my big titty bimbos out there😮‍💨

FUTURE WARNINGS ~ SMUT, Readers father is a disgusting person, reader is a bimbo, reader is a female, reader has big breasts and is called blondie multiple times. Use of slut, bunny, idiot, spit, light choking, clit spanking twice, face sitting, multiple rounds. Chan is referred to as Chris and made him a little freak...Reader gets cat called but Chan is there to save the day. Chan is apart of a gang. DRUGS, ALCOHOL. Chris and Izumi are broken up but get back together. Cheating?? They have a baby together called Ayum. Enjoy!!

CONTEXT

Chris was your ex boyfriend. Why was he your ex? Because your family didn't approve of him. Chris was a "gangster" he rode motorcycles, spray painted, people were scared of him. And when you were younger you had made the mistake of dating him. Since your family didn't like him you left him without explaining which left Chris furious and lonely.

Chris had knocked you up at the first few months of your relationship so when you broke up you had shared custody. Together you had a son called Ayum. He took after Chris a lot. There were bearly signs of you in him but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Chris had Ayum on weekends while you had him during the week. Which made it impossible to avoid eachother.

WEDNESDAY EVENING

It was a late Wednesday night. Chris invited some friends to his house for a drink and a smoke. When they were all completely wasted they started watching some porno type movie. The usual.

"Oi Chris! Howsss..Y/n's new boyfriend?" Said Felix one of Chris's friends making everyone else laugh at how wasted he was. But Chris wasn't laughing.

"Like I care what she does. They look ridiculous together. Plus I heard he's an ass. And he probably can't handle the whole of her." Chris mumbled under his breath taking a swing of his drink. He told himself all the time that he hated you. But in reality. He was a liar.

"Someone sounds jealous-" Changbin poked the bear with a teasing tone. "I'm not drop the topic." Chris barked loudly making everyone flinch. Damm it. He most definitely still had feelings for her. But how could he not?! He had to see her every weekend. And she was hot..like really hot.

FRIDAY EVENING

The house smelled of men's shampoo and colone. Chris had just gotten out from the shower and was now walking around the house while drying his hair. The sound of his naked feet padding against the oak floor the only sound in the house.

The loud noise of Chris's doorbell stopped the peaceful silence. "Perfect." He grumbled rolling his eyes and throwing a tank top on while approaching the door.

When he opened it he saw you standing there one hand holding a baby bag another hand holding Ayumi. "Look who it is? My little blondie?" Chris laughed leaning against the door.

3RD PERSON POV

Y/N stood infront of the dark wooden door. She'd just drop off Ayumi and move on with her day. This was absolutely nothing..she told herself. You are a grown woman..control yourself.

As the door opened her eyes instantly drifted to the man's abs..she was just a woman though.

"Firstly don't call me that. And yes I'm here to drop off your daughter. Nothing else." Y/N said handing Chris the tiny Elza backpack and then Ayumi. "You know the drill call if you need anything and she has everything in the bag okay?" She added crossing her arms.

"Got it. Also what's with the attitude this morning eh? Your man got your nerves popping?" Chris smirked leaning against the door frame.

"That's absolutely none of your business. Now I'm leaving. I'll pick her up on Monday morning. Goodbye." Y/N scoffed saying her last goodbyes to her tiny angel before walking off. Her hips swaying behind her as Chris's eyes trailed down and up her body. Goddamit she was still hot. Why him? And why did he have a boner now..?

Oh he was still such

An

ASS

I am literally the worst writer ever!! I'm SO SORRY about making the wait so long and the first part not even having any smut!! 😭😭 I'm so sorry for the disappointment and I'll try to write part 2 faster!! Once again I APOLOGISE!!

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii :з can i request domestic hcs with quackity x reader where they just moved in with each other and basically figuring stuff out about living together

idk what domestic means in this context but I don't think I wanna know

QUACKITY ; living together

summary ; you and alex finally moved in with each other and you're figuring out your new way of life

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 687

masterlist

At last, you and Alex were finally living under the same roof in Los Angeles. You were living in a studio apartment for a while, but finally upgraded to a two story house just outside the main city with your boyfriend.

Money was the first problem that you tackled beforehand, which you got sorted nice and easily. The next was unpacking and buying new furniture.

You'd already took out some loans for new furniture since both of you either didn't have some furniture, or needed to scrap the old stuff you found off eBay for a scarily low price. The trip to the closest furniture store, about three miles away, was horrifying.

You'd never been a stickler with money, but coming up not having much of it sometimes taught you a great amount about fair pricing. However, when you saw a large number, you stood there awkwardly, wondering if you could afford it or if it was even worth it. Alex was the same, but he was more comfortable spending larger amounts of money on bigger things because he understood the expenses a bit better than you did.

All in all, you probably spent about two thousand dollars at that place. You'd ended up finding some good furniture off of eBay that you could go pick up that afternoon, and found a nice and free dresser set out by the road from someone who didn't want it anymore.

The house, now a month later, was finally furnished and you were in charge of decorations while he organized the kitchen and set up the PC's and other electronics. You two hadn't been doing much other than get used to sharing a room and a bed 24/7. You ended up deciding it'd be better to save that room for something else and have your bedrooms and office combined into one. If anyone wanted to snuggle in the night, they'd go to the other person's room.

It was mostly for privacy, and so you wouldn't end up fighting or beating the shit out of each other. You both needed downtime away from each other, a perfectly normal and healthy aspect of a relationship.

The next part, after setting your desktops up and decorating your rooms and whatnot, was getting into the routine of living together and not doing everything independently. Both of you were independent and didn't need to rely on each other, a good thing, but when it came to getting groceries or going out or streaming, talking about it and making decisions together would be the next step in moving forward.

Tiger was a whole conversation in herself. Alex decided he'd take care of her litter box and you decided you'd take care of her food and water. He felt bad making you take care of his cat, but you found no problem with it considering Tiger was like your child already.

The final steps were just getting used to living with each other and boundaries that came with it.

But, over time, everything would go great.

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

Quackity appreciated you bringing him food, water, or a hoodie on stream, and you did as well

Tiger walking into your streams >>>

even streaming side by side was a reoccurring thing

often times you'd play uno and have the handcam on in the corner

you'd give each other advice when editing videos and writing scripts

making dinner together with music in the background >>>

especially when he sings along/to you, good lord

you can't go a single day without cackling at each other

fighting and arguments are healthy for a relationship, but with you guys it's never serious, it's either over dumb shit you couldn't care about or you play fight with each other for laughs

sometimes he'll shout at you in Spanish to mess around and you'll stare at him like "tf are you saying"

if you do understand Spanish though, it's war

arts and crafts together go crazy

you start a little vlog channel together as well

it's run by you and he's only there sometimes but still

insta pictures of you two doing dumb shit 24/7

[satansaidnottoday]

Late night coffee.

Info: No romance, Teen!Satan & GN!Mc, Human AU.

Context: You recently opened your dream Cat Café. Just today a rather extravagant family moved to the neighborhood, and one of the kids seems to be out for a little cat visit.

Warnings: Mentioned physical violence.

It was almost 23:00, way past closing time. You were downstairs at the cafe to feed the three cats you were currently fostering. You were petting the oldest of them when a loud banging on the door interrupted you.

You answered, unafraid as always, ready to fight whoever was bothering you at that hour. But you didn't find a burglar nor a junky on the other side. Instead, a blonde teen stood there, shaking as tears streamed down his cheeks. One of Lucifer's kids.

That morning was a rainy Sunday and not many people were going out. The slow time had you dozing off a little on the counter. They came in when you were least prepared.

The moment the seven siblings stepped foot inside, the energy completely changed. What you could only describe as a sudden wave of chaos. Even the cats retreated behind their little safe area. A corner of the salon you had separated from the rest with glass walls; it had an entrance small and high enough that only the cats could enter it.

"They have cats!" exclaimed an overly excited blonde teen. He grabbed at the shirt of another, smaller, blond and pulled him to look at the cats.

The two older teens took a seat at one of your bigger tables. They didn't stop arguing a single second from the moment they stepped inside, something about money. Another kid, a redhead, stood in front of your pastry display with an amazed face. He repeatedly asked if he could get one, looking at the only adult you could identify.

The tall, lean man ignored every single one of his companions as he approached the counter. You saw a sixth (SIXTH!) kid hiding behind him. He smiled at you, and you just knew the man needed a coffee.

"Good morning, I'm Lucifer Morning Star. My siblings and I just moved a few blocks away. We're introducing ourselves around the neighborhood," he said. By the tiredness in his voice, you couldn't imagine that it was going well.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," you offered him your hand for a shake and he took it. "I'm Mc, feel free to come over anytime you need a coffee." Which you assumed would be often.

The siblings introduced themselves one by one, as they ordered.

If you remember correctly, the one standing at your door was Satan.

"Can I pet the cats?!" he screamed over the storm outside. He looked pissed, but his voice broke in a desperate way.

You stepped aside to let the kid in.

He was drenched. His house was just a few blocks away, but with how strong the storm was, it didn't surprise you.

"I'll bring you a towel."

He didn't look at you and instead marched straight toward the cats, who scattered away from him.

You went upstairs to your apartment, unsure of what to do. You left him in because well, what else could you do when a kid came crying at your door at night. You couldn't let him outside, but you also didn't want to get in any trouble. You should ask Lucifer to pick him up, but didn't have his number. And calling the police felt overkill.

You resolved to at least make sure he didn't freeze to death.

When you went back with the towel, he was still trying to get the attention of a kitten. The little orange tabby had climbed up a cat tower and was taunting poor Satan with his unreachable cuteness.

"You need to be more gentle with them," you said as you threw the towel over him.

"I'm being gentle!" his scream just served to startle the cat and send him climbing even higher.

Satan's expression changed from angry to sad in a second, and it made your heart sink.

"You want some coffee?" You asked.

He nodded slowly, "With cream please."

You nodded back and got to work behind the counter. You turned the heater up, both the cats and the blonde thanked you.

He grabbed the towel and dried himself off as best he could, though his clothes were still drenched. Now calmed down, he sat on the floor. He didn't want to ruin your chairs.

He looked at the cats. The orange cat he was chasing was now waking up an older, white cat to play. The older cat started to lick the kitten as if telling him to calm down. The kitten seemed to understand. He laid down beside her and they slept together. He wanted to sleep with them so bad.

"Now, what are you doing on the floor?" You said suddenly, surprising him. You sat down at a table with two freshly made coffees waiting. "You already look sad enough as is, come sit with me".

He laughed a little as he stood up, out of embarrassment more than anything.

He sat in front of you and let out a little squeak, looking at the cat head you sculpted with the foam of his coffee.

"It's so cute," he said with a huge smile.

"Thank you, it took a long time to master the ancient art of foam cats you know? You better appreciate it". You said with an exaggerated pompous tone and he laughed.

He took a sip of the drink, secretly decaffeinated. He felt a little bad about having to drink the cat. You looked at the dry tears on his face.

"Will you tell me now?" you asked.

"Tell you what?" he played dumb.

"Why did you come to a closed café, crying to pet the cats, while the second universal flood is happening?"

He didn't expect you to be so direct about it. He hoped to divert the conversation long enough that the rain would die down, so he could go back home with some of his pride intact.

"I just had a fight with Lucifer" He sighed and looked down.

"About what?" As you spoke, you noticed Felicia, the black cat, slowly approaching Satan's side. He didn't seem to notice.

"Just stupid things," he said, anger taking hold of him again "He thinks he has a right to tell me what to do. I'm already old enough to make my own decisions."

Tears started to build up at the corners of his eyes.

Felicia made her attack, jumping directly into Satan's lap with a scream. Satan screamed alongside her. Surprise and fear immediately morphed into the most adorable face of adoration at the creature. She rubbed herself against his chest and he shyly started to pet her.

Feli was a very vocal cat, she was meowing and screaming between purrs with every show of affection. Satan looked so confused, having only ever seen quiet skittish cats on the street. But you could see he was definitely having the time of his life.

Finally, Felicia had enough love and laid down on Satan's lap for a nap. Her loud purrs still filled the room.

"She's adorable" his voice came out small and thin. He was trying not to move at all so she wouldn't leave.

"She certainly is," you smirked, enjoying the view of this angry, edgy teenager trying not to cry over a cat. "You could ask your brother to adopt her," you suggested.

Satan looked hopeful for a moment but then deflated.

"He won't let me have a cat," his voice turned sour again "he hates me".

You saw him choking down tears as he began to pet Felicia again.

"Why do you think that?" You ask. Maybe it was the usual teenage act of 'no one loves me'. But you knew too well that sometimes kids had their reasons to think that way, and you weren't about to invalidate his feelings.

He remained silent for a while. You waited patiently, the storm outside wasn't getting any calmer, so you had all the time in the world.

"Because he called me crazy," he finally said, his voice teary.

"Why d—" he cut you off before you could ask.

"I hit him but didn't want to hurt him. I always hit him before, but he never got hurt for real. He looked like he was going to kill me. It's just that sometimes I get really angry and I can't control it." he explained himself desperately, in one single breath. He didn't want you to think of him as some kind of delinquent kid or something.

"I get it, I get it, It's okay," you reassured him. He took a second to calm down. You waited until he looked better.

"And then what happened?" You asked, worried "Did he hurt you?"

He shook his head, focusing all of his attention on the cat.

"He told me to go to my room."

You nodded. "And you didn't."

"No..."

"Why did you come here specifically?"

He thought it for a few seconds, a serious expression on his face.

"You have cats."

You let out an earnest breathy laugh, caught off guard. He laughed a bit too.

"Let's make a deal," you proposed "If you give me your brother's number so I can ask him to pick you up, I'll let you in any time you want to play with the cats."

He looked at the table for a few minutes, deep in thought, before answering.

"Okay, but can you please give me an hour before calling him?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Half an hour?"

"Fifteen minutes," you insisted.

He rolled his eyes.

"Okay…" he accepted begrudgingly.

You shook hands over your very serious verbal contract.

He chose to spend his fifteen minutes laying around in the playing area with Felicia. You heard him sneeze a few times, so you fetched a blanket for him. When you went back down you found he had fallen asleep on one of the puffs. You covered him and went to the front of the store to call Lucifer.

He answered after the second tone.

"Who is it?" his voice was breathy and tired. You could hear the storm strong and clear in the background.

"Hi, Lucifer?" you confirmed it was actually him and Satan hadn't given you a stranger's number. He made a grunt as affirmation. "This is Mc, the café owner."

"Yes, I remember," he says, his breath shaky as if he had been running.

"I'm calling to let you know Satan is in my shop, could you pi–" he interrupted you before you could finish.

"Oh thank god! I'll be there in a second."

He hung up the phone.

When Lucifer arrived the storm was finally dying down, yet he was completely soaked and panting. You would have laughed at how ridiculous he looked, if not for the complete desperation in his eyes.

"Where is he?" He asked as he entered.

"He's okay, he fell asleep playing with the cats," you said, guiding him to where Satan rested. He let out a relieved sigh.

"I'm really sorry, Mc. I really don't know what got into him."

You smiled as reassuringly as you could. "He just wanted to play with the cats, it's okay."

Satan was out cold, exhaustion had taken over after the adrenaline wore off. Lucifer picked him up with no problem. The rain had completely stopped, but you still lent them an umbrella.

"Thank you, Mc. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again," he said, standing on the way. Shame filled his voice.

"It's okay," you assured him.

"Thanks again, Mc," he said before leaving.

You closed the door behind you, left alone with only the cats and a floor full of puddles you had no energy to clean.

"Well," you said to Felicia, who sat on the table in front of you. "Seems we made some friends."

[erinelizabethh]

Time Slip | Chai x Reader (7/10)

Summary: Chai, ambassador of Vandelay Technologies, certainly has his ways of communication. You, living in the suburbs outside the campus, don't even have a cell phone. You know what they say about relationships…

Chapter One: Time Slip

Chapter Two: #E67451

Chapter Three: Daisies

Chapter Four: Sweet Dreams

Chapter Five: Synesthesia

Chapter Six: On Mercury

Chapter Seven: One of These Nights

*slight sexual content ahead*

It’s nothing. It’s whatever.

So you thought to yourself: are you reading this correctly? Your thoughts were of the utmost importance, so much that you left behind the comfort of your blankets and onto the floor where your thoughts could remain better situated. With a squint, as the bright screen of your cell reflected the lack of illumination in your apartment, the rather rude message was but an inch from your irises. The bubbles are prolonged, enlightened by your lack of response, and the meaning causes you to seethe. “What does that even mean?” You ask nobody, looseleaf paper torn from your notebook crumpled up inside your fist as the words sitting at the tip of your pen disappear with the distance between you and your pen pal. With the point of contact on an errand, as a result of your pleas that fast food chicken nuggets sound delicious at two o’clock in the morning, the context and tone of that message is lost to you. You hope it buries itself into the heart of the man who should rethink what he says, and perhaps unsend.

Whatever? You type. Do you think I’m stupid?

You pause. Stupid.

The pen, however, is mightier than any name you can call him at this point. Can you believe that? I feel when a guy says it’s nothing it’s really, like, everything. He’s being so weird about it. I mean he is the first guy I’ve dated with a robotic arm so that’s something but he doesn’t talk about it. His friends are all weird about it too… it’s like it’s some forbidden topic that gets him fucked up. Sorry. For ‘cussing’. Again. Anyway, he’s twenty-six years old and I’m sure we’re grown enough to talk about our pasts like adults. Like, if he came back right now, I’d definitely tell him all about my past boyfriends and… no I won’t actually. I will not do that. That’s embarrassing. Especially because I perhaps may have told him I wanted to be left alone so go me. I make smart decisions.

You were pushing the subject again, like Peppermint warned you not to, through text no less. You could not help your eyes lingering on the scars that burdened Chai’s back when he pried himself from your arms, his shoulders stiff with prior events. He relished in your return when your fingertips traced the delicates of his upper back, your lips pressed against a beauty mark that freckled him with love. As your forehead fell against him, his hand grasped at yours pressed against his chest; with a twirl of your arm and the dip of your body against his, he pecked your lips before a cheeky: “Babe I’d so serenade you if it wasn’t for those delicious cheeseburgers calling for me.” His feline friend, once curled up in a ball atop her cat tower, zoomed to the front door upon the aspect of leaving on an adventure. When Chai pulled you to your feet, one swipe of his nose against yours and he was no longer facing you, his back once again on display as he shot finger guns at a cat standing on her hind legs to return the favor.

Cute. You were still a dog person, though.

“Baby where’s my—” He threw a glance over his shoulder, his head falling to his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Are you on your… y’know…”

You cry out in frustration, your fists clenched. Of course he shrugs you off, choosing to hide the identity of the Chai before he became one of the faces of Vandelay Technologies. Of course he doesn’t trust you enough to recall those events, how tragic they must have been because why would he tell you? After all, you’re just some girl he must be on the brink of moving on from… you’re overthinking again. A nasty habit of yours, you think, considering his clothes are thrown beside your underwear and the pillow beside yours is fluffed in a way that refuses you sleep. His guitar leans against the cushion of your loveseat, once strummed with picks that litter your end table and douse it with color. That guitar sits beside a scarf that 808 loves to rest her paws on when she grows tired of the toy mice that are spread out all over your rug. However, you’re just some girl whose space he happens to share with, someone of whom you believe to be insignificant, boring, and out of time. With a shake of your head, your hands trail down and stretch at the skin of your cheeks, loathing at the eleven months with him that border on the best eleven months of your life. You can’t help but groan with mist in your eyes, body deflating as you subject yourself to inhales through your nostrils that are ragged and stuffed with impending sniffles.

Your phone chimes. Oi. Korsica. I need flowers.

Pepper. Mint. Peppermint.

Peps.

Wtf do I get her? Korsica unsent a message. Ask Chai please. 

You sigh, your response slow and steady, incorrect letters in between. You return to your side of your bed, the cool air a blanket over the array of knit sunflowers you sit on. The peonies beyond the crack of your window sway to your right, cars with the Vandelay logo driving at a speed beyond the limit to disturb an otherwise mundane night. Those headlights are blinding, illuminating the suncatcher that hangs above your head and paints the moon and the stars all over your skin. They flicker like following a person’s footsteps, and one car halts in front of your building with a bass that hums and rattles your bones. The neon glows along the lines of the vehicle, fading in and out to different colors, the person inside dumbfounded upon the wrong turn toward the suburbs. 

Your peace is disturbed by a, “I’m not stupid, I’m a dumbass!” Chai slams the door open to your apartment, no chicken nuggets or cat in sight. His breaths are a struggle for air, but he begins the revelation with a hurried, “I killed Kale Vandelay who, plot twist, was Peppermint’s brother! And��� and I have this cool implant in my chest that makes everything sync to me ‘cause of this thing—I dunno if you know Project Armstrong—but the guy threw my music player and it got stamped to my chest or… or something and so I got this really cool arm ‘cause fun fact I actually did not have any feeling in this arm right here before and so I ended up having to kill all of these crazy bosses ‘cause it turns out Kale actually used this weird AI thing to take over bodies and that’s where Roxanne—”

“What? Chai, wha— what are you even talking about?”

His body shakes as the distance between you decreases, and you eye the trembling of his hands as they brush against your face. Chai’s breathing is ragged like yours was, and he then clutches his chest as if alluding to his sprint back home to you. He huffs and puffs out pleas that you hold on just one second, just let him get it together, and in that one second he raises one finger to confirm that yes, indeed, he’ll be but a second. He radiates the heat you’ve missed in the time he was away, despite the chill that floods his lungs, and your fingertips itch to be linked with his once more.

So he goes on, your question above your heads like vapor, sputtering out the facts of people you only heard in passing conversations and observed on billboards tainting your small town. Chai holds up fingers as if counting down the obstacles: the head of production, the head of research and development, Korsica, the head of marketing, the head of finance, the head head… the name that sticks out the most beside of the known redhead’s is Mimosa’s, whose face is plastered on every bus and train you step on. Her luscious, blonde locks were the standard years ago, so evident that customers in your flower shop would share the hairstyle despite blonde not at all being their color. You can’t dwell on that thought for long, for he chronicles his battles as if he were the protagonist of some role-playing game, taking hits and dealing with them along with the beat to his own drum. He was the star of the show, the main character of a daydream, and you owned a flower shop and wailed off-key and off-beat in the shower. It was only a matter of time before he thought you too boring, too mundane, and walked away toward a life that was certainly more exhilarating.

Chai cups your cheeks in his hands when you shake your head. The thought of him leaving you behind terrifies you. His thumbs traced the line of tears that fell before tapping at your lips with an implied shush. “Lemme finish! Anyway I had to fight like a crazy amount of robots ‘cause Kale took ‘em over along with the others and yeah, I almost died but I beat him and I saved everyone and you’re right. You’re right! It’s not nothing, it’s not whatever, it’s something that I want you to know about me ‘cause I wanna know everything about you ‘cause I kinda’ love you… scratch that, forget what I said.”

“I love you.”

He blinks, flexing the cool metallic of his fingers. “Also I have this super awesome weapon. We can take the bad boy for a test drive if you want…”

Your gaze passes by the rise and fall of his chest, by the dust of pink across his cheeks. When they align with his own, you bear witness to a truth that can’t be rescinded. His laugh trails off into racing thoughts, judging by the way he commits to eyeing at your rug. The chestnut hues of his irises are dimmed by the shadow of your ceiling, the sunrise edging past the lower half of his body with the minutes that pass with no words being shared. He tests the silence with: “Wow. I, uh… the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” He cages you between him and daybreak, the repeating silence evident with the words said, deafening with the implications; he loves you, so that must mean he can’t imagine a life without you. 

What does it mean?

“Chai, c’mon… you kidding me?” You sniff, unable to resist the trembles that wrack your body, unable to refrain from the attempts to push him away. His grip on you is unwavering, however. “What is wrong with you?”

“N-N-No, you’re supposed to laugh at me, not cry! Maybe tell me you love me too? You love me, right? Ya’ gotta tell me you’re feeling some way about me.” Your name follows. “Baby, please. You feel the same way… right?”

You nod, and the first declaration of love out of you is but a whisper, said again once your confidence grows. “Yes, Chai, I love you.”

He surges forward to press his lips against yours, breaths leaving his nose in slow, deep exhales. Your left cheek is chill with the remnants of morning dew on his cool, metal fingertips but his mouth is warm over yours and you’re swallowed whole. His strength cranes your neck back, longing to envelop you with lips that search for every part of yours in desperation, and you surrender yourself to him even when the breaths are so far in between. The taste of salt remains on your tongue, but Chai exhibits his love next by nipping at your tastebuds and wrapping his arms around you to pull you further into his embrace. Your chest pressed against his, your tongues interlock in a hypnotizing dance; the hum that escapes you elicits one from your lover.

He pulls his lips an inch from yours, low huffs gliding across your cupid’s bow. Your hands fall to his sides, sliding up his shirt, bunched up white cotton rolled up into your fist. His hands mimic your movements all over your lower back, and his voice lowers to a tone unheard of him. When he tells you how hard it is to breathe, yet how much he can’t stop kissing you, what leaves you is a pathetic whimper. The feeling is mutual but you have no complaints. Your lips are dry with his scrutiny, quivering as he brushes his against yours like a feather grazing your skin. What fogs your brain is the thought of his shirt over his head and messing with tufts of brown hair you will ruin later anyway.

“Y-You, uh— umm—”

You’re breathless when you confirm, and you all but give into him when he hurries you into the entanglement of your body against his.

That took pretty long, but I think you’ll be stoked to hear I finally told him I love him. I sent you two letters to chronicle the night I had so, like, I hope you read that other one first. It was a great night. We’re just gonna leave it at that. Anyway, you’ve said before you know him from somewhere right? He’s, like, the ambassador for Vandelay Technologies. Isn’t that crazy? They’ve only started putting him up everywhere, though, so I guess the switchover happened recently. I kinda don’t get how I won him over; I guess it was my anxiety of being alone and the scent of my flowers. Regardless, I feel as if I understand him so much better now. It’s nice. I hope he stays with me. I hope his friends like me. I hope one day you can come by and we can really meet and you can meet him too. You’d probably like him, Rekka.

Reply soon! So much is happening and I need someone to talk to!! 

P.S. I got a phone now. Please give me your number.

[eyes-of-rock]

Dinner With The Band

(Eric Singer X OC)

This fic is a continuation of the OC from this story and Eric. This time she's meeting the band and their girlfriend/wives.

Warning; I painted Tommy’s Gf in a kind of bad light, now obviously I don't know her, irl. This is a work of fiction so I'm not trying to shit on her. I'm not trying to say she's a bad person. She could be a sweetheart for all I know. So don't take it like that, please. Just take it in the context of the conflict I'm trying to get across in this fic, thank you.

———————

I sigh, glancing at my watch. It’s almost lunch. I feel like I've been here an eternity. Usually, work goes by quickly. I'm a receptionist at a hair salon. I run the front desk, schedule appointments, sign people, and take their payments when they're done. I also check out people who buy products and whatnot.

Today, though, it’s moving slowly. Usually, we’re busy, but because three of our five stylists have taken the day off, it's much less busy than usual. It's not a constant stream of customers; there are massive chunks with customers in sight.

Right now is one of those moments. I'm trying to find something to keep me busy until lunch in 20 minutes. Maybe another customer will come in and buy some shampoo or something. I checked the bookings a few minutes ago and saw no one booked again until a couple of hours from now.

I'm bored. When I'm bored, my mind wanders, and recently, I’ve been going to one topic. Eric. I literally can't get this man out of my head. I mean, it was bound to happen. It’s impossible not to fall for Eric, after all.

That's why it was so shocking so many women rejected him on the state of his home alone. To think people would reject someone because they don't care so much for material things is beyond me.

It’s been going so well. I miss him after every date because I have such a fantastic time. We’re moving slowly, but that's okay with me. I have a feeling Eric has faced a lot of rejection on the dating front. I don’t want to push him. I’m also much younger than him, and though I know it doesn't bother him, it doesn't bother me. I can understand his hesitation. Most of the time, a young woman going after a successful older man usually means they are only after money. Money is nice, but material things aren't everything to me. I genuinely just really like Eric.

Plus, we aren't officially girlfriend and boyfriend, but it doesn't matter because it's only been a few weeks, and I love every minute of it. I have faith we’ll get there eventually.

Of course, we have no phones on the floor policy. Yet nothing is happening, and I'm bored, so I don't think anyone will get mad if I do it for a second.

I pull my phone out and smile when I turn it on and see a text message from Eric on my lock screen. I click on the notification and unlock my phone.

It’s a picture of his sweet black cat, Ash. He's the sweetest baby. I love cats, and it's lovely because Ash likes me, too. He jumps right into my lap. I wish I could have a cat, but unfortunately, my apartment has a no-pet policy. Eric loves Ash so much, and it's so sweet. There is nothing sexier than a man who loves his cat.

Of course, the photo comes with a paragraph as well. It's a voice message most of the time, but it's a paragraph today. Eric texts how he talks, lots and lots of words. It's adorable. He always starts them with, ‘I know you’re at work, but..’ and I love reading them or listening to them during my lunch break—one of the day's highlights.

I text him, commenting on the photo and how it is and adding how it's slow at work today. Then I replied to a text my sister sent me.

Eric gets back to me pretty fast; I open the message. This time, it’s a voice message. I can't help but smile. I like listening to his voice.

I click on it. I was holding my phone to my ear to listen to it.

��Hey, I’m going to dinner with the band and all their wives tonight. I thought I'd like you to come with me, if you don't want to, that's fine too. I just wanted you to meet the guys.”

Of course, I'd like to come. It's sweet of Eric to invite me. Sure, it makes me a little nervous to meet one of the biggest bands ever to exist, but it's a part of who Eric is, and I’ll do it for him.

I quickly text him back, saying I’ll be happy to go. I have something to look forward to now: seeing Eric tonight.

————————————————————————

I'm beyond nervous. I want to make an excellent first impression. After all, this is a kiss and their spouses, and I know how much this band means to Eric.

I tried to find my best outfit. I’m not someone who owns a lot of nice clothes. I don't go out much, and I've owned most of my clothes for ages or got them thrifting. I don't own sleek, sophisticated, stylish clothes like their wives will wear.

I settled on a simple black dress I've had for ages. It's nothing fancy. A basic black dress that falls a little below the knees, with a square-cut top, is held up with simple spaghetti straps. I paired it with my one pair of heels—a strappy black design.

“Don’t be nervous,” Eric squeezes my hand, “They’ll love you; how could they not?”

“I know, I know,” I mutter as we enter the restaurant. It's a fancy one on the Vegas Strip. Even though I grew up here my whole life, I never usually spend much time on the strip. I prefer to avoid tourists and the casino scene as much as possible. The flash of it all isn't my thing.

“Is that a real-life girl I see with Eric?” Gene Simmons, the demon, the kiss bass player and one of the band's founders, teases once he spots up approaching.

That's when it dawned on me. I can't believe this is my life right now. I'm having dinner with KISS. Hell, I'm dating a kiss member. My younger self would probably never believe this.

“Here we go,” Eric says, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Gene, she’s real.”

“Are you going to introduce us?” Paul Stanley, the Starchild, a rock icon, asks.

“Yes, this is my very REAL girlfriend, Maxine,” Eric emphasizes the word natural, and his hand is on my back.

It took a second for me to realize that Eric had called me, his girlfriend, to set in. We’ve been dating, but he's never called me his girlfriend to anyone. Well, till right now. It's making me feel happy and warm inside. I like having that title.

“I’m assuming you know Gene, Paul and Tommy,” Eric says, pointing to his three bandmates. He knows I'm a Kiss fan, so I know the band members.

“It’s an honour to meet you guys,” I say, giving them all a friendly smile.

“An honour?” Gene says, “I like her already.”

“This is Shannon, Gene's wife. You might already know her from the show or something.” Eric continues, introducing me to Shannon Tweed, the beautiful, tall blonde Ex-playboy playmate wife of Gene.

“Please ignore Gene,” Shannon says, “He’s just surprised. It's not every day that Eric brings a girl to one of these dinners. I'm happy you could join us.”

“Well, I'm honoured to be that girl,” I reply, giving Eric a small smile, before turning back to Shannon, “Thank you, it's lovely to meet you.”

Shannon is gorgeous. I pale in comparison. Then again, I think most women do. She also seems like a very kind person.

“This is Erin, Paul’s wife.” Eric introduces the blonde on Paul’s arm.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She says, giving me a friendly smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I reply, returning the smile.

“And this is Tommy’s girlfriend, Vivien.” Eric doesn't seem too impressed by her; he says it like hes trying not to roll his eyes.

She's around my age, so much younger than Tommy. She has dark coffee hair, perfect makeup, and a fashionable outfit. She's the girl who walks into my salon and demands perfection. She's the kind of girl who wouldn't step foot in my salon because it's not luxurious enough.

She's dripping in gold bracelets and jewelry and carrying a designer bag. I could never afford one; that bag is probably worth more than all my possessions. She either comes from money or is using Tommy’s. Power to her, but that's not the kind of person I am.

I mean, I feel bad when Eric pays for dinner. I could never accept gifts like that from him. I guess that's what's being raised to respect people for people and not what they have done to you.

She eyes me up and down. She's checking out my outfit and shoes; there is a lack of glam and glitz. Compared to her, I look plain. I'm wearing the same three Sliver rings I thrifted a year ago, old Sliverhoops I've had since I was a teenager and a Sliver chain necklace my dad got me as a gift one year. I'm not carrying a bag, but only because Eric insisted he'd pay, even though I told him I'd pay myself.

I'm also not wearing a stick of makeup because I just don't. I don't have the extra money to spare on things like that, and it's never been important to me. Her makeup is perfect.

I know her type. I've dealt with them my whole life. Girls like her have always judged me for not caring about material things so much for not being trendy and perfect.

It makes me wonder if she's ever made some kind of comment about Eric. He's similar to me in that respect; he has some nice things, but he's not the type to flaunt them around. That's one of the things I love about him. I can see her having some kind of issue with that, though. I do not like her vibe at all.

I don't necessarily fit in with the women here. I won't deny that. They are beautiful, proper and perfect. I'm just a regular, plain old woman. I'm unsure why Eric chose me when this surrounds him, but I'm happy he did.

I will say this: Sure, Shannon and Erin are that kind of women, but they were also lovely and didn't stick their noses up at me. Unlike someone else here tonight. Which is funny, considering she doesn't have the ring among them.

“Don’t look at the prices; just get what you want.” Eric says, turning to me, “I know you, and I know you won't get what you want if you think it's too expensive.”

“But-” I try and protest. I can't make him pay for something expensive.

“No,” Eric says, cutting me off. “It’s my treat. Get what you want.”

“Fine.” I sigh.

“So, how did you and Eric meet?” Paul asks, looking between us.

“My sister pushed me into him,” I admit; that is the truth; well, the story is a bit deeper than that.

I was actually at that restaurant for a blind date. He never showed up, so I called my sister to come instead. That way, I looked less pathetic. It wasn't like I was heartbroken, but he stood me up. It wasn't the first time. Plus, I never met the guy, so I was dodging a bullet. I've told Eric that, of course, but I don't think they need to know it.

Of course, I noticed Eric. I didn't want to bother him because you know he was eating. My sister had other ideas, I guess. She found a way to make up, walked by him, then literally shoved me into him—pretty modifying moment.

“Yeah, good thing she did, too.” Eric smiles at me, taking my hand under the table.

I can see where this night is headed. They’re all trying to get to know me through a series of questions, which is fair; I am a stranger to them.

——————————————————

I open the lady's room door and walk over to the sinks. They're made of white marble or something. This is fancier than the house I've ever been to.

I managed to drip a bit of my pasta sauce on my dress. I didn't want to walk around the rest of the night with sauce on my dress, so I decided to see if I could clean it.

I pump some hand soap into a piece of paper towel. Then, I wet it and rub the area to clean it. This usually works. This isn't the first time I've had to do this. Granted, I've never done it in a bathroom that's this fancy before.

Suddenly, I felt someone standing beside me at the other sink. I glance out of the corner of my eye. I don't want to be in their way or anything.

It’s Vivien; she’s applying a new layer of lipstick. I just ignore her and keep cleaning my dress. She hadn't said a single word to me all night, and I couldn't care less.

“Trying to save your cheap dress.” She mutters, applying expensive lipstick to her lips. “You and Eric are meant for each other.”

I know full well she means that in a snarky way. I'm not about to play that game, though. I'm going to act like I took it as a compliment. That always throws people off.

“Thank you, I know,” I say, giving her a big smile, then I turn and leave, adding, “No one I'd rather be leaving with tonight.”

That statement is the truth. There isn't a person in the world I'd rather be with than Eric. I'm thrilled to go home to his imperfect house at the end of the night. Just as long as it's with him.

[deckerroosevelt]

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I was inspired by TMA but the statement itself is based on my dream (Like nearly everything in this novel) before I had ever heard about TMA. So it has no connections to the Hunt or anything in TMA except it’s in a statement form.

We were having breakfast when the guest came in. I got a déjà vu from it. It was nearly just like it had been for me. He was awkward and looked insecure. He had the gas mask on and apologised with a dry voice for not eating. He had some kind of problem with oxygen. 

   Decker said his name was Saiyan. It struck me that he might not remember what happened before he came here. Not even his name. Like me. And how did Decker know his name? Saiyan didn’t seem like he was used to the fire problem so how did he possess the ability? As I remember I was born that way like Neda, Treacher and Yumekui. How about Ambeth? How did she get the book at such a young age?

   I excused myself and went to the library. I felt like I needed to get something else to think about. I sat on the floor and took a random folder:

“‘CHRISTINE’S’ STATEMENT:

It all seems like a dream but I swear it wasn’t. It all started during the summer. I live with my family even though I’m more than old enough to leave. Don’t get me wrong, I have a stable job and friends but I’m just too lazy to move away. In addition, I can spend more time with my parents. They are quite old, you know. Or could spend more time with them. Now I’ll move out in a few weeks. 

   Anyways, I should start from the beginning. It was a hot day and I was just going to sleep. And for the context we live in an apartment, quite small but comfortable for three persons and two cats. That evening my room was a bit chilly even and that alone was out of the ordinary. Our house always heats up during the summer and the temperature can rise up to 30 degrees. 

   When I fell asleep I had a dream where I was in a lovely mansion with my family. It was very realistic and grand. It had three floors and a beautiful garden. There was a fountain in front of the house and the water was running there. I spent the day there which I’d say felt like a whole day. I dined with my family and explored the house. When I went to sleep there I woke up in our own apartment. I didn’t think much of it except that it was the nicest dream I had ever had. I didn’t mention it to my parents because it wasn’t anything worth mentioning, was it?

   But little did I know that I’d spend the next week or so there. The following night I was there again but it was night. I remembered everything from last night but that time it was night. The mansion was dark and spooky. I went to wander around the house again. When I reached the living room I sat down on a red leather armchair and looked out of the window. A black SUV had pulled up next to the water fountain. I moved closer to the window and a man got out of the car. He stood for a while inspecting the house and then raised his head and looked straight to me like knowing I’d be there looking. It was dark but I saw his eyes. The eyes were crimson red and shining through the darkness. He took a step forward and got into the house. I stayed put and didn’t go down. The man didn’t seem like someone I wanted to meet.

   I heard my dad going downstairs and I remember being surprised he was awake too. For a while I heard nothing. Not even talking. Then I saw the man stepping outside and he said one word to my dad that I didn’t hear. He looked at me with a grin again and got to his car and drove away. 

   I was about to go downstairs to ask my dad what had happened until I heard a deep growl. It wasn’t from a dog or anything but my father. I peeked down and there my dad was with endless fury in his eyes and the red glow. Our eyes met and for a second he looked at me intensely. Then he blinked and he was chasing me. It felt like it was supposed to happen but I was so scared. My heart was pumping like crazy and adrenalin was flowing in my blood. I ran for my life to wake up mom but her door was closed and I had no time to open it. Dad was still behind me and he was faster than me.

   I hid in the library and locked the door. I heard my dad thumping to the door and trying to break it. After a while he stopped and instead broke the door opposite. I heard my mom’s screams and cries. I hid in the corner of the library trying not to breathe. 

   I finally woke up in my own bed. My muscles were sore and I was all sweaty. The following day was foggy. I felt like we all were exhausted and mom had some bruises. She said she fell from the bed but I was anxious about them. I tried to convince myself that it was just a coincidence. 

   The next evening I tried not to fall asleep but I did. That time mom had red eyes and dad had bruises in the morning. I tried to hide in the library every time but on the fifth night my mom found me and attacked me like a wild wolf. I had a knife with me and stabbed her as self defence. Mom had died during the night. She stabbed herself in sleep.

   The night after that I had the red eyes. I felt an unimaginable anger and fury bubbling inside me. I felt the need to chase someone and beat anyone or anything that came in front of me. It was more fussy than the rest of the week. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I remember some bits of chasing my dad and his face before I threw him down from the rooftop.

   He had killed himself by jumping from our apartment rooftop.

   Just like that I had killed my parents and the dreams ended. I went to therapy but ended it after the first appointment. The therapist was the man with the SUV. I will move to America to get far from here. “

  I read a bit on and Catherine had killed herself a few weeks after moving to America. The case wasn’t followed any further except the deaths of the family were confirmed as suspicious and the therapist did not exist.

[burningexeter]

[IDEA THAT'S NOT YET A PITCH]

Marvel's Damage Control

What is it —

A female-led Marvel action-superhero series that instead of being the type of pandering and obnoxious girl power schlock that we have today, is a throwback to 2000s and early 2010s action cartoons that wipe the floor with modern garbage.

PREMISE:

Heavily implied to be in the same continuity as The Spectacular Spider-Man, Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes and Wolverine and the X-Men, a now college student Mary Jane Watson is looking ahead for her future but is currently struggling to keep up with the rest due to certain personal issues in her private life.

Accepting an opportunity that could potentially make her life now easier and even set her future in stone, MJ learns the hard way that sometimes taking what appears to be the easy route isn't always the best option when she discovers it's nothing more than a horrible ruse that lands her into a secret street level conflict between a now solo Susan Storm/Invisible Woman, a now solo Emma Frost, Felicia Hardy/Black Cat, Sable Manfredi/Silver Sable and a now solo Tandy Bowen/Dagger. That is until a series of new threats emerge that affects them all in some way, shape or form and the six of them end up forming an unlikely team whose job is to be a clean-up crew that specialize in dealing with the aftermath of superhero conflicts, rescheduling events because of the conflicts and retrieving lost items. Turns out for Mary Jane, it pays really well.

NOTES/TRIVIA/DETAILS:

• Yes, it will be directly implied to be set in the Yost-Verse continuity. Not only will all the voice actresses — Vanessa Marshall, Erin Torpey, Kari Wahlgren, Tricia Helfer and Nikki Cox — reprise their roles but there will be a definite wink-wink, nudge-nudge to the events of the previous three shows. The idea for it is that several things (in this case, Spectacular, EMH and Wolverine) happened, they all of a sudden went dormant but now BOOM! it's back and the shadows here are moving again, everything is moving under the goddamn sun and you pick it up from there.

• The Damage Control team will be a more than unconventional team that come into conflict over different things with the big ones being Black Cat and Silver Sable aren't afraid to get their hands dirty since they're basically villains-turned-anti-heroes while Mary Jane's personal life plays a role in the events for the team. However, it's at the end of the day that it's revealed they're an incredibly effective and capable team that get the damn job done.

• One thing that will be played for humor and help define and establish the tone of it where it's more on a somewhat grounded level is that the team, much to her dismay, decide to live together in Mary Jane's apartment where she shares the same bed as Sue and Sable who ultimately act as caring mother figures to her.

• Another thing that will differentiate it from others is that the six leads will actually have their bumbling and screw-up boobish moments (a la Elastigirl checking herself out in the mirror, Kim Possible accidentally landing into the arms of a Bebe and then being thrown etc.) to show that despite being "strong, female characters" they are far from perfect but it makes sense in context because Mary Jane is just starting out as a superhero, Susan, Emma and Cloak are just starting as solo heroes and Black Cat and Sable are just starting out as anti-heroes so they're all bound to screw up when they're in action.

• Now this is just for fun but there will be a few easter eggs, references and flat-out and direct cameos either to or from other non-superhero media that establishes a retroactive shared universe. I mean hey if fucking Ultimate Spider-Man can do it with Jessie, thus having it be part of the Disney Channel Universe officially than why can't I with this. For example, Sable finds herself stuck in an elevator with a certain eccentric black woman who turns out to be security after having worked at the infamous C.U.R.E. Institute — it's motherfucking Denise Hemphill from Scream Queens with Niecy Nash reprising her role.

[taurielofmirkwood77777]

71. I already act like no one is judging me. Again, I have no sense of shame.

72. If I started over in the present, everything would be changed anyway. If I were to go back to the past to the day I was born and re-live my life in the same decades, I only have one regret, but it's a really long story. Out of context, I'd ask to get my chicken back before the owner of the house died and her animals were taken to a another city. I will not elaborate on that story here.

73. Save a life? What law? Would I do it publicly, or could I hide it? You have to be more specific.

74. Last September when I moved to Ireland.

75. My cat.

76. I don't have dreams. I just do stuff as the opportunity arises. I don't have an end goal.

77. A paleontologist.

78. For the last time, I don't. have. dreams.

79. Probably in class when I had a question and I thought I could find the answer myself. Happened a lot during my life, so I can't point to a specific moment.

80. The next three years will be in college and the two years after that I have no idea.

81. I'm not good at imagining what-ifs and all that. I'm sorry.

82. See answer 69.

83. First buy an apartment for myself, and save a part of it for the utility bills, because you never know. Second, pay my college fees. Third, take my cat to the vet and do all the tests for all diseases in existence to make sure she doesn't have any "invisible" illnesses. Fourth, buy myself a new bike. Fifth, start/donate to an animal rescue shelter.

84. Depends on the rules of time travelling. Does changing the past affect the present? If so, I'll travel to the future. If it doesn't, I'll travel to the past.

85. The fact that if I don't, I'll have to try again and I'm too lazy to do that.

86. None. My dreams are weird as shit. And I don't mean that as a "I dreamt a three headed dog riding a horse inside a hospital", I mean that as "I dreamt I was a policeman with an otter instead of a dog that sniffed out my real life friend's stack of marijuana hidden in a rotten log".

87. City. Access to food, clean water, clothes, cats etc.

88. No.

89. My primary school teacher. By being a good teacher, because at that age, I had no experience. Even though I had bad teachers in high school, I don't resent them, because I already had formed opinions about things and could distinguish right from wrong. And because I knew they were wrong, I was not affected by it. If I wouldn't have had such a good and kind teacher in primary school, I wouldn't have developed properly.

90. Nobody ever asked me this, I've never thought about this, even though I think about my childhood quite often. One thing I find absolutely hilarious, though, is that I told my middle school crush I liked him, and two years later when I discovered social media, I saw that everyone else was afraid/ashamed to do it and made me laugh my ass out. And to make it even funnier, the context for me was a summer camp in 7th grade and we had a party where all the boys had to dress up as girls and all the girls had to dress up as boys. I didn't have proper resources, so I "burrowed" white face powder from my roommate and spread it all over my face (make-up was not something common among middle schoolers back in my day). The guy used pink and blue powder in his hair, his make up was exaggerated on purpose, and after the whole party, I asked him if I could talk to him in private. Outside the building. In the rain. (I was wearing my pyjamas, by the way). So now, considering this insanely comical context in which I told my crush I liked him, I just cannot take anyone else seriously when they say they can't do it.

92. No clue.

93. That school manufactures robots, not people.

94. Our bodies decompose, and the nutrients are reabsorbed in the soil, giving trees and other plants resources to grow. Unless you're cremated. Then you just sit in an urn on someone's shelf.

95. Crimes.

96. Be invisible.

97. I don't fucking want children.

98. I don't know how, I only know the circumstance, and the circumstance was the middle school biology olympics.

99. Self-pity, because it's completely useless, it doesn't help me accomplish anything.

100. I just exist.

100 questions to invade my personal life

[deedjre]

on a 0 notes streak lets throw this into the ether

look at my oc(s). john wasn't supposed to be there but i wanted him to be there. john's the fucker in the blue hoodie btw. other guy is dawsey :)

(rambles below)

these three* fuckers are in my favorite fucked up love triangle of foils that keep fucking up.

*Colin is not pictured bc i didn't want to draw him. also he didn't go to highschool with them (he's british. he makes up for that fact though trust me)

kinda obsessed with teen dawsey appearing more pale than teen john. it's just really funny to me bc john was invented to look incredibly sickly. partially because he is. but he's pretty healthy in his childhood. strictly his childhood. he turned 18 and everything went downhill.

the "roommates in 2015" thing is weirdly specific out of context. but. colin and john were roommates from 2011-2017, but no one in colin's life knew he had a roommate bc john was very good at hiding and colin was very good at not talking about the weird guy in his apartment. also john just never wanted to be known or seen. ever. anyway dawsey was like "hey since you live alone and your rent sucks why don't you move in with me?" and colin was like "hell yeah" while being gay for both of his roommates at once without realizing it.

dawsey IS taken he IS gay married but he's also bisexual. he talks to his gay husband about women. they make tierlists of women in their heads.

the fabric color of his bow is pretty similar to his highschool shirt... it's way too dark though. i've thought about lightening up the color of his bow. i love his bow. maybe he got it after john. like right after not in like. a nebulous sense. that much is obvious.

his cats are brothers :) jasper is 100% color point but idk what's up with casper. maybe he just has a cold tummy.

also they animal coded... a hare (bigger, can fight back to an extent, still looks friendly and kinda cute :) ), a bunny (that's a lil guy. you offer him a lettuce he will eat it), and a great horned owl (this bitch eats both of em lmao).

i have more to say. but i shan't. unless prodded or asked. or i make more art

[allen309]

As someone who has insomnia and takes meds to help me sleep, I still have rough nights. Last night was no different. I need to rant for a moment because I’m not a morning person and I’m slightly annoyed.

Bit of context:

I’m an adult who still lives with my parents and three older siblings. Since we all live together in a single wide trailer, and my siblings and I still share bedrooms (8x8 bedrooms), my parents decided to do an add-on. This way we can all have our own space (turning a single wide into a double-wide trailer). The trailer is also going from a flat roof to a pitched roof… Well, it’s mid-December and the roof isn’t finished. They just started putting the metal up, so we still have a tarp covering the new roof to keep rain and snow off.

What happened last night:

Last night I went to bed at my normal time; about 11 o’clock. Last night was very windy, which caused the paracord that was keeping the tarp from blowing away to snap and shake the whole trailer at about 3:30. The snapping was very loud and obviously the sudden shaking of the trailer woke everyone up, but it was still too dark to do much of anything. The tarp luckily didn’t blow away, but had just fallen low enough to cover the windows. This was apparently an issue for my cat, Tabby. For the next two and a half hours (3:30-5 something) my cat was jumping between my bed and my bedroom window, hissing and growling at the tarp whenever the wind picked up. I was able to finally fall back to sleep about 6… until 7:00 came around anyway. That’s when my sister was fully awake and freaking out about the tarp and pounding on the parent’s door.

So now my dad and two brothers were awake and up on the roof fixing the tarp. The old current roof isn’t something that you really want to stand on because it basically has no support. The trailer was built in the late 60s, and is starting to fall apart, which was another reason to build an add-on, so the old side of the trailer could get renovated…Basically, from inside, when someone is on the roof you can hear the ceiling cracking and watch the ceiling go down while someone is walking around on top… moving the trap and screwing the tarp into the rafters is also equally loud inside… I’m not annoyed with my dad and brothers for fixing the tarp early in the morning. The tarp needed to be fixed, so the add-on isn’t exposed to any weather… I’m annoyed with the fact that I was finally falling back to sleep at about 8:30 when my older brother woke me up at 8:40 to ask for a ride to work because he needed to be at work at 9.

While putting my shoes on and waiting for the car to warm up, I very grumpily told my dad about last night. He said that he wouldn’t mind driving my brother to work, but since I was already out of bed with my shoes on, I decided to drive my brother to work.

In total, I had about six and a half hours of sleep last night. I suppose I don’t have much to complain about. I just started my day out very grumpy… My dad thinks that I should go back to bed since I’m clearly exhausted because I kept saying “why didn’t my brother ask sooner, around 3:30?”… instead of 8:30, I kept saying 3:30… the issue with having insomnia is that it’s hard to fall asleep and stay asleep. Once I’m up, I’m up. I can’t even take naps.

[stygiananon]

Destiny Hearts - Prologue

Short Pitch : Magical Girls that have moved on with life suddenly being called back into action, with all the silly trappings played straight.

Background: It's been eighteen years. Eighteen long, normal years since you and the other Destiny Hearts put a stop to the diabolical plans of invaders from beyond a magical rift.

Shifting alliances and dire revelations lead to great sacrifices in the name of peace. Still, with the combined magical might of the Destiny Hearts, the Great Magos A'luric lay defeated.

Following the defeat you, Former Leader Carnelian Red, drifted apart from your companions and mentor, guilt and shame at your decisions driving you to isolation and seeking to forget a past you no longer wished to remember. Triggers for [Breakup][Mentions of injury]

Context: Another night, another call from the Destiny Heart. This time however, your partner confronts you over leaving yet again.

Speaker list

[ ] - Sound Effects -> - Partner

Story Start

A pair of sleeping figures lay in bed, in a small bedroom.

[Cute chime of the Destiny Heart, rustling of the sheets, groggy moan]

-> Seriously? This is like the third time this week... Doesn't your work have anyone else they can call? [Rustling of clothing / sharp click of a tongue]

-> What could possibly be so important that so the need specifically *you* for anyway? Wouldn't the owner or your manager be the better choice? -> And that means it has to be you?

[Exasperated sigh]

-> Sweetheart? Can you please stop for a second and look at me?

-> What's *really* going on with you Red?

-> You get calls to run off at all hours of the night, come home bruised and sweaty, and you honestly expect me to believe that it is from your *office* job?

-> You look like you went three rounds with a heavyweight champion in bare knuckle boxing. Is something happening with you? Is there any way I can help?

-> I just want to be supportive, but you've been shutting me out for weeks.

-> Yes, weeks.

-> The first time was just after you got that job. You had a fractured wrist, I drove you to the hospital after you appeared on the doorstep.

-> Red. We've been living together for months, you're more graceful than a cat. Trying to pawn this off like it is no big deal or that you're just clumsy isn't going to work on me.

-> And the black eye from a few weeks ago? The one that you tried to hide with makeup and when I caught you you said you fell into a door handle? Is... Is someone hurting you?

-> I'm asking questions *because* I care Red.

-> No. I can't just let it go... I should never have let it go on this long, but I thought you would have come to me by now.

-> Because you won't give me a straight answer.

->[scoff] You refuse to tell me where you are actually going for a start.

-> No. No you aren't.

-> [sigh] I know because... because I followed you, or... at least I tried to.

-> Yes, I did. A week ago, you slipped out at night, I tried calling you several times. You didn't pick up, so I drove to your office building.

-> I ended up waiting for at least an hour and a half. A night guard came over and spoke to me, said you never showed up. In fact, he said no one called you at all.

-> Please Red. Please just tell me the truth. Is there... someone else? Are they hurting you?

-> There is no one else... but you can't tell me who is hurting you or where you go?

-> I wouldn't believe you? [Raised voice] I can't possibly understand?! Of course I can't! You won't explain a damn thing.

-> Overreacting?! Are you listening to yourself?! I'm worried sick about you. You've disappeared without a word, not returning for several days, and when you do you're battered and bruised yet you act like nothing happened. You've slipped out of bed no less than six times this past month. Whatever the hell it is you are getting up to has you so exhausted that when you sit for even a few minutes you pass out... How *exactly* am I supposed to be taking this?

[Pause] [Destiny Heart chimes]

-> Trust you... Trust you?! How can I possibly trust you? You aren't saying---

[Destiny Heart chimes]

-> Last chance, I love you Red and I want to trust you but whatever **this** is, whatever it is that's happening right now...

[Destiny Heart chimes]

->[Exasperated sigh] Red... I'm gonna leave. When you are ready to talk, we'll talk.

-> You keep lying to my face, evading my questions, you're hurting and you won't say how or why...

-> I'm going to leave.

-> No. Not forever. I just need time.

[Destiny Heart chimes]

-> Go on. Whatever it is seems important.

[Destiny Heart chimes]

-> No. No, I won't be here when you get back. I'll leave my key.

[Destiny Heart chimes]

-> No tears Red... When you think you can tell me the truth... the entire truth, you know how to find me.

[Destiny Heart chimes]

Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a little something that has been kicking around in my head for quite a while. It's gonna be split into many pieces otherwise we'd be here for ages.

[infinityasph]

throwback to the time i got my dogs mixed up & nearly took the wrong one to the vet.

it was yesterday. throwback to yesterday.

[p-antomime]

⠀ᨳ — haitani ran + kurokawa izana + power play!

a/n: i wasn't intending to write this, BUT, the concept (see here) that i was presented with was SO good and inspired me so much that i ended up writing the scene written in the ask in a detailed manner!

thank you, anon. <3<3

for context, inspired by this here.

warnings: hard dom!ran, switch!izana, f!reader, hanma is mentioned, slight degradation, power play (ran → izana/reader), baton play + impact play, face fucking (ran → izana)┊mdni!

⠀⠀⠀ᨳ wc: 1,3K.

— Tsk, gross. — Ran, sitting in his swivel chair, hissed more to himself than to you who were bent over his lap as his baton descended against the molested skin of your ass once again.

One descent of his baton against the soft skin of that region of your body was equivalent to a percentage of his jealousy being mesmerized and amplified. And every arch your back gave because of his actions equaled how much Ran was willing to extend that punishment until he had you crying out completely over his lap.

— Are we in...? — He knew what number the two of you had stopped at, but he wanted to see if you had done anything using your brain for the last few minutes besides just standing around trying not to moan and having your slick run down your thighs.

— Almost... Almost twenty. — And once again, his baton came down against the soft skin of your ass, you arched your back biting lips as eyes rolled up and hands tried to hold onto anything that would help your fingers ease the tension of having your pussy aching to be used.

— "Almost twenty” is not a number, mutt. — Ran whispered rubbing the skin of your right buttock with the extension of the baton. — Don't you know how to use your words properly with me anymore?

— I... — Your voice faltered and you thought it best to bite your lips before answering, the look on the man's face above you was still intelligible and it was hard to know what he was thinking when he was jealous. — We're on the twenty- three, Ran.

— See? It's not hard to try to be a good girl for me, you even look like... — His eyes fell on your buttocks, which were starting to redden from the pounding of his baton. — Cute, not pretty. — And again, another stroke against his soft skin, another dose of pain coursing deliciously through yourveins, another series of moans escaping from deep in your throat. — Stupid puppies don't deserve to be called pretty, right?

And immediately your head moved in agreement.

Another lowering of his baton, a moan louder than the previous ones escaping your mouth. That last moan of yours ran straight through Izana's arteries, traveling down his back and reaching his cock that begged for attention as his body continued to kneel beside Ran's swivel chair and yours.

His face more or less at the height of yours, since you were arranged over the older Haitani's lap and your platinum haired other boyfriend was not standing in all the glory he had outside four walls.

— Did the cat get your tongue? — Ran asked you and you gasped as you felt him hit your ass again.

— N-No.... No! No, Ran, I'm sorry, I... — And another downswing from his baton.

You were definitely erring in all your actions today and attempts to please him just as your ass was getting redder and redder and hurting.

He didn't care about you needing to sit for the rest of the week because he didn't need to care. It was your problem.

— I didn't ask for an "apology", for my question 'Yes' or 'No' was enough. — Ran spoke as if it were obvious and spread your legs a little farther apart from the end of his baton. — Uh-hm, and you're soaking wet. — He rubbed that object in your folds slowly, his eyes fixed on the way you reacted and his other arm slipping around your waist to keep you still on his lap. — As expected.

Slowly, Ran slid some of his baton into your tight pussy. Your walls widening to accommodate it and the feeling of being too full taking hold of your body with a slowness that almost tore your sanity apart. Your juices sliding down the length of the object as it began to be withdrawn and reinserted inside you.

It was insanely nice, good to have something easing your need to be fucked after spending long minutes being treated like a stress relieving doll.

But each time Ran removed it from inside you, the fingers and knuckles of his hand made a point of rubbing against the sensitive, abused skin of your ass. It was inevitable to get little tears around your eyes that eventually ran down the cheeks and began to wet the floor.

And Izana didn't even have the courage to lean forward to wipe your pretty face, because his action would not go unnoticed by Ran.

— Uh? — The older Haitani's lilac eyes roved over your tear-streaked face as his hand continued to move the baton inside you, widening and narrowing your walls as you were fucked and the wet sounds of your juices grew louder. — Crying already? Disappointing. — His tone was mocking and it made your pussy clench tighter. — I can tell you're a slut when you're crying and wanting to cum at the same time. — You whimpered, trying to force your hips against the baton.

Ran took the object a little deeper into you and pulled louder moans from your throat.

And then his eyes falling on Izana's, who now could barely stop himself from squirming listening to the sounds coming from between your legs.

A smirk was drawn on Ran's lips and slowly his hand pulled the baton from between your thighs, receiving a frustrated groan from you as you found yourself empty, with nothing making you feel full. The object stopped in front of the face of the man kneeling beside you both.

— You've been such a naughty puppy since earlier, what do you have to say for yourself, hm? — Ran's eyebrows rose suggestively and Izana could do nothing more than swallow dryly, stare at the thing in front of him and whimper almost as if he was the whore in heat, not you. — Oh, you want that? — He let out a mischievous chuckle before he saw the kneeling man slowly open his mouth and the object was shoved deep into his mouth, reaching his throat.

In that respect, Izana is smarter than you.

Ran didn't have to speak or do or command anything at all, his other puppy was already sucking the baton the same way he did every time with Hanma's fingers when he was about to use them to fuck your pussy.

— Oh, how good! You're taking it so well! — Ran spoke in small praises with a half wicked, half lascivious smile as he began to fuck Izana's throat with that long object and watched him almost gasp too much and choke as he licked your juices off. — Such a good puppy.

It was obvious that Izana had never had anything more than Ran or Hanma's slender fingers inside his mouth, his gag reflex made that obvious.

If before the baton was soaked with your juices, now it was the same with Izana's saliva.

And you were feeling even more aroused, your pussy clenching around nothing and clit throbbing, at the sight of that handsome boy having his face and mouth fucked by the same object that was previously inside you.

Before you could whimper for Ran to use you again, the sound of a notification on his phone resounded through the room. You immediately bent down to get up and stand, grabbed the smartphone with the screen now glowing and handed it to him.

At the same time as the purple haired man with dark highlights suddenly removed the baton from inside Izana's mouth, who immediately tried to catch his breath as his cock was aching inside his pants, a sneaky smile appeared on his lips.

— Hanma's back. — Ran's agile, watchful eyes fell first on you and then on his other puppy still kneeling.

You swallowed dryly, shuddering beside the swivel chair. Your heart beating insanely faster and thighs squeezing into each other. And Izana, on the other hand, stood with eyes gleaming with excitement as if he had received the best news of the week.

Hanma was worse than Ran.

Ran didn't punish you specifically to make you cry, but Hanma? Hanma put his hands on you as if you were a porcelain doll and the intention was precisely to break you.

[fernweh-writes]

You could ask my question, if possible, of course. With the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) with her beloved looking innocent and even angelic, but she is extremely jealous and possessive when a victim or survivor flirts with her slachers to the point of saying something in context: " he is mine !!" (while the reader embraces Slachers). What would be the reaction of the slachers, about the corpotamento of his beloved?

I don’t write for Jason, sorry but I can definitely do the rest. Since I don’t write for many slashers, with requests like this one I usually do a little snippet for all of the slashers I do write for. But I like this idea a lot so without further ado…

P.S. this took me so much longer than I expected, I definitely got a little invested in these lol. I left out Thomas and Jesse but I may go back and add them at a later time idk yet.

-Fern🌿

Slashers x Possessive S/O

Michael Meyers

Your innocent and kind nature would be one of the things that made Michael interested in you. You were the first person to take the time to actually figure him out rather than checking him off as Evil™️ and treating him as such. He also likes the fact that he can easily make you flustered, it feeds his need for control. Knowing that he can simply press himself against you and leave you blushing both pleases and amuses him.

We all know that Michael is very possessive. He often stalks you while you’re at work or out in town running errands. At this point, it’s no longer because he feels the need to be predatory, he’s just making sure that what’s his is safe from any harm.

One night you had decided to go out with a few friends, which Michael wasn’t very excited about, but eventually he allowed it. It was one of those busy clubs/bars that had opened recently, so of course the place was crowded. This left Michael with no choice but to ditch the mask while he followed you, another thing he wasn’t happy about.

He ended up sitting on the other side of the place by himself with his eyes glued to you. He didn’t like you being around so many people. Michael was so focused on watching you that he had barely even noticed the woman walk up and make herself cozy in the seat opposite of him. Now his attention was on her while she grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat, pushing her cleavage together to make it more apparent in her already low cut dress.

Michael could’ve sworn that you had teleported, after all he had only take his eyes off of you for a second. Now you had your arms wrapped around him with your head resting on his neck. “Can we help you,” you asked the girl in front of you. Michael had never heard your voice sound so cold.

The girl began to twirl her hair, not deterred by the fact that you were running your hands over Michael. “I was just wondering what such a handsome man was doing here all by himself,” she purred. She attempted to reach forward and grab his hand but you were quick to smack it away before Michael could even move.

“He’s not here by himself he’s with me. And if I were you I would keep your hands to yourself and away from what’s mine.” After you said that it didn’t take long for Michael to drag you back home. To him it was your way of saying that you were in fact a permanent part of Michaels life. Plus you threatening someone when you’re usually so polite was a change of pace that left Michael wanting. You can definitely expect the girl to turn up missing on the news soon after that night as well.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms adored your innocence and kindness. You never hesitated to follow the rules and care for him, which is why he kept you around. After all he needs a nanny that is actually going to take care of him. Brahms also had an easy time revealing himself to you since after the initial shock of it all you were delighted to find out you weren’t being haunted and that you weren’t in a huge countryside mansion all by yourself.

Seeing as Brahms is a major introvert and goes absolutely feral if there’s someone new in his house that he hasn’t allowed you usually have nothing to worry about. However, suppose something happens where Malcolm has to leave for a few weeks, meaning that a new girl is assigned to deliver the groceries until Malcolm returns.

You were in the kitchen chopping up ingredients for lunch when she arrived for the first time. You had to admit that she was pretty, she was tall and athletic looking with perfect curls. It was hard for you to not notice that she was blonde, Brahms had a thing for blondes…

“So Malcolm told me that Brahms isn’t dead or a ghost, is that right?” You didn’t like the fact Malcolm had told this random girl about Brahms but you muttered in agreement anyways. She helped you put up the rest of the groceries in silence, not speaking again until she had opened the door to leave. “So is he hot? Usually people with this much money that aren’t old are always hot. If he is I might just have to stick around for a little while longer.”

That struck a nerve. “He’s not available,” you said sharply and she faltered. “What do you mean?” It was easy to tell she hadn’t expected that kind of answer, much less the attitude you had suddenly adopted. “He isn’t single. So although he is hot, trust me, I would know, you can’t have him. He’s mine.” She quickly apologized and left, slamming the door shut behind her. You could also hear Brahms moving around in the walls nearby, letting you know he must have heard everything.

Shortly after you found Brahms wrapped around you while you finished making lunch. “So now I’m yours hmm?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss, one hand finding it’s way into his hair. After pulling away you told him, “You’ve always been mine Brahmsy. My good boy.” He let out a small whine at your praise, pulling you back in for another kiss.

Vincent Sinclair

You were Vincent’s muse. He absolutely adored you from the way you acted to the way you looked. To him there was no aspect of you that wasn’t perfect. In other words he was absolutely obsessed with you. After all, you did take care of him and even helped Bo keep Ambrose up and running.

It’s no secret that Vincent was shy, but he was definitely intimidating as well. So you knew that the girl in front of him that was doing a terrible job of flirting was only doing so in a poor attempt to make it out alive. Still, watching her twirl her hair and smile at him made something inside of you snap.

“Come on handsome, you got to want some kind of company. I’m sure you’re so lonely here all by yourself… I could help with that.” She attempted to touch his chest but you grabbed her before she could. “Sorry,” you told her as you held both of her arms behind her back, “he already has someone keeping his bed warm. Didn’t your mother ever to tell you not to touch things that belong to other people?”

Vincent made quick work of knocking the girl out and carrying her down to the workshop. However, after dwelling on the thought he decided to just let Lester dispose of her body. He didn’t want to make you angry by turning her into a permanent wax figure for the town. Doesn’t mean that he won’t allow her to regain consciousness before killing her though, after all she needs to know her place.

Later on Vincent will make sure you never forget that he is yours the same way that you’re his. You can probably expect to have some trouble moving around the next day as well.

Bo Sinclair

Everyone knows that Bo is a major flirt. He enjoys watching the girls throw themselves at him, he just blames it on his “southern charm.” Although, he usually keeps you safely tucked up into the house whenever victims stumble into town. After all, “I can’t have my sweet angel in harms way now, can I?”

You never dwelled on how Bo dealt with victims, that was his business. Sure he had flirted with you a lot when you first showed up. Even now he was heavy on flirting and making inappropriate comments all the time. It was one of the things that made him Bo after all. So walking into his shop unaware of the newest batch of victims in town was a shock for you. Well not so much the victim part, it was finding Bo flirting with the girl leaning over the counter to display her cleavage that pissed you off.

She was smiling and blushing like she had a high school crush on the man in front of her. Not to mention Bo was unashamedly staring at everything she was flaunting. So yeah you were pissed, especially since he didn’t even seem to notice you were there. You quickly remembered the lunch you were holding in your hand, your reason for coming down here, and decided to use it to your advantage.

Instead of saying anything you just walked up behind him, setting his lunch on the counter right in front of the girl, effectively blocking his view of her boobs before wrapping your arms around him. Bo still didn’t shut up and acknowledge you so you decided to interrupt. “I brought you lunch baby.” The use of a pet name quickly made the girl Bo was flirting with falter.

“Oh, uhm, is this your girlfriend or something?” Before Bo could jump in you answered her. “Or something, I guess you could say. After all, he is my husband.” You looked up at Bo with the most lovesick expression you could put on your face as you pulled him in for a kiss. One kiss turned to two, to three, to a whole make out session in front of the poor girl. Bo’s hands began to roam around your body as well, making sure to squeeze all of his favorite parts of you.

When the two of you broke apart the girl was gone but Bo didn’t seem to notice. He was still to busy feeling you up. “Have I ever told you how fuckin’ sexy you are when you’re jealous? I’d never have guessed you had a possessive side to you angel.” You smiled knowing you now had his full attention, “Well surprise.”

He kissed you one more time, long and hard. “I promise we’ll continue this later up at the house. But right now I gotta go find that bitch n’ kill ‘er. You better be waitin’ on me when I get home darlin’.”

Billy Loomis

Billy was highly sought after by many girls due to his bad boy reputation. He always had girls throwing themselves at him wanting to be the one to fix him. You knew you didn’t have to worry, Billy wouldn’t leave you for someone else. He made it very clear that you were permanent. But still you couldn’t help but be irritated when they would flirt with him right in front of you.

You two were planning a movie night which meant a trip down to the video store. Apparently, Randy had the night off because some new girl was behind the counter. When the two of you first arrived she had been reading a magazine, not caring about the handful of people milling about. That was until she noticed Billy, not seeming to care that you were wrapped around his arm. She was watching him like a hawk.

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way she was staring down your boyfriend. Billy was observant and quickly noticed your discomfort. “Don’t worry about her babe, you know you’re the only person I’m into.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, “Now, do you want to watch Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?” You groaned, “Billy we’ve seen both of those movies a million times.” He smiled and held up Nightmare on Elm Street, “Well now we can watch this one and make it one million and one times.”

You rolled your eyes as he drug you to the checkout counter. The employee quickly perked up when she noticed Billy. “Will this be all for you hun?” She asked completely ignoring you. She didn’t even look down at what movie Billy had set on the counter before saying, “You have good taste, this is like one of my favorite movies ever. It’s a shame your little girlfriend doesn’t seem to like it though.”

“Cool, so who’s the main character?” You knew exactly what Billy was trying to do, elbowing him lightly. “Oh, uhm,” she finally looked down at the case, eyes lighting up, “oh, yeah it’s that really scarred dude!” Billy rolled his eyes, “No shit, what’s his name though.” You decided to have pity on the girl, “Ignore him, he’s a horror movie fanatic.” The girl mumbled, “Yeah no kidding.”

You smiled at Billy, using this as your chance to brag on the fact he’s yours. You knew him like no one else did. “He’s such a dork when it comes to the cinematography of these things but he’s my dork.” Billy hugged you from behind, “Yeah, whatever, you know you love me.”

Stu Macher

Stu absolutely loved throwing huge parties at his house. He was well liked and well known so it wasn’t unusual for a lot of people to show up, many of which you didn’t even know. Because so many people knew Stu, it also meant that they knew his family was pretty wealthy. It was pretty common to find girls hitting on him and since Stu loved attention he was prone to playfully flirting back.

Usually you would hang out with your friends during these parties, not being big on socializing with new people. Most of the time you didn’t worry about Stu wandering off, he would always show up at your side again at some point. Half the time when he would reappear you would have to pry him back off of you. He could be quite handsy at times.

Now the party was winding down and mostly everyone left was on the couch getting ready to watch a movie. You excused yourself, and headed to the kitchen to get another drink. You froze when you saw a girl running her hands all over Stu, he wasn’t making any move to push her away. You decided to help him out with that.

“Do you need something,” you asked her as Stu wrapped himself around you. “Are you his girlfriend?” Stu laughed, hopping up onto the counter. He pulled you up onto his lap, “Yeah she is dude. Isn’t she hot?” The girl scoffed, “Don’t you think that she’s a little… beneath you, Stu?”

That set you off. “I think that slutty little bitches like you need to keep your dirty hands away from what’s mine.” The girl rolled her eyes before storming out of the kitchen. You hopped out of Stu’s lap and turned to face him. “If you let mother whore rub all up on you like that again so help me I will be the next one to commit a murder in this house. Understand?” Stu stopped smiling, his goofy personality faltering for a second. He then saluted, “Yes ma’am.” You nodded. “Good.”

Stu jumped down and threw you over his shoulder, causing you to yelp. “You look extra hot when you’re fighting over me babe.” He quickly climbed the stairs and you pounded against his back. “You’re going the wrong way, the movie is downstairs.” He made it quickly to the bedroom, throwing you down on the king size bed with a huge grin. “We can make our own movie babe. I don’t know about you but I’m thinking romance,” he rambled, crawling on top of you. “Rated R of course.”