#freakazoid x Reader

[sanguineterrain]

Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.

Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...

Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.

I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.

And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.

❤️❤️❤️

This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓

Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.

****

You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.

She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.

You take her home.

Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.

You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.

You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.

You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.

You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.

"Hey, Jaybird," you say.

Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."

You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.

Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.

"That's a baby," he says.

You nod. "Yep."

Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"

"How would that even work, Jason?"

"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."

"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"

"I found her."

Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."

"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"

"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."

Jason pouts. "Are not."

You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.

"Are too. Wanna hold her?"

Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"

You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."

"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."

"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."

Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.

"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."

You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.

"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.

"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."

"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.

"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."

Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."

Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."

You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.

"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.

"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."

"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."

You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.

"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."

[d0llcuries]

hiii im new to your blog so idk all the rules yet but I was wondering if you could do a neteyam x navi reader ofc like when they first arrived to the reef you and tuk clicked immediately you both have a really close bond like you two spend a lot of time together weather it’s swimming together or making matching jewelry🩵 and that’s kinda how you and neteyam even started dating because of how much tuk would talk about you !!!! I hope this isn’t too much sorrrryyyy❤️ I love your work btwwww

TIDES THAT BROUGHT ME TO YOU

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: the sullys arrival to awal'atu causes a stir among your people, though you could care less about their presence. that is, of course, until a certain forest girl changes your mind

author's note: i fear there is an inexplicable pull within me to write yn as an absolute freakazoid in every oneshot i create. that being said, if you want yn to be normal in your request plspls specify her personality type otherwise she'll come out acting like winona rider from mermaids (1990). kinda fumbled this one too i should not be writing on my period 🧍

the first thing you notice about them is how thin they are.

their descent from the sky on their great winged beasts stirs up the sand in great, sweeping clouds, but it does nothing to hide the way their limbs, long and lean, cut through the air as they dismount. forest people. they move with a lightness, a caution that seems strange to you. the metkayina are not built like them. they are broader, bodies strong and firm, their muscles shaped by the tides and the weight of water. and their tails—their tails—eywa, they are so thin! practically useless. you wonder how they manage to balance at all.

you and tsireya emerge from the water, sliding off your ilus in one fluid motion, the cool spray of the ocean dripping from your skin as you wade through the shallows. the soft sand shifts beneath your feet, and your tail flicks lazily, trailing behind you as you approach ao’nung and rotxo, who stand together just ahead. tsireya pushes a strand of wet hair from her face, her movements graceful, her eyes immediately catching sight of the sully brothers—the skinnier of the two stares at her a little too long, his expression a mix of curiosity and something almost like awe.

you almost laugh when he nods in her direction, his voice low and far too confident. “hey.” (miles morales ahh)

tsireya’s face flushes a familiar shade of soft blue, and you cringe inwardly, the secondhand embarrassment hitting you like a wave. her reaction is painfully obvious, her wide eyes as she bends her head, a hesitant smile betraying her. you glance sideways, searching for a distraction, and rotxo is already there, as if sensing your discomfort.

“look at them,” he mutters under his breath, his voice pitched low so only you can hear. “how do they even manage with tails that thin?”

ao’nung, standing just beside him, snickers, his broad shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. it's the kind of laugh that is infectious, spreading like ripples across the surface of the sea, and even though you are not cruel—even though you know it’s wrong—you can’t help the small tug of a smile that curls at the corner of your mouth. it’s all in good fun, after all. forest people, clearly they have wandered too far from where they belong. surely they won’t be here for long.

it is not that you want to make fun of them, these strangers who have come to seek uturu, but something about them seems... wrong, somehow. misplaced.

you were still laughing when you caught neteyam’s eyes on you.

his gaze was steady, calm in a way that she didn’t expect, and she felt the weight of it like a shift in the tide. not accusing, not angry, but watching. taking her in as if she were something curious. something strange. her smile faded, the amusement leaving her as she pulled her gaze away, pretending not to care. what was he looking at?

you shift your weight slightly, your arms hanging loose at your sides as you observe the exchange between the sullys and tsireyas parents. she watches them with a quiet, thoughtful expression, her brows knitting together in concentration. there’s no judgment in her gaze, no hint of the amusement that had touched your own. she looks at them with nothing but curiosity, a flicker of compassion lighting her features. she catches your eye and raises an eyebrow, silently urging you to soften. you sigh, the weight of her gentle disapproval settling over you. of course tsireya would be the first to see beyond appearances. she always does.

you’ve known her for as long as you can remember, since you were both small and would spend your days swimming out into the open waters, daring each other to dive deeper, pushing your lungs to their very limits. she has always been the heart of your little group, the steady, guiding force that tempers ao’nung’s bravado and rotxo’s sharp-edged laughter. where they tease and taunt, she soothes, her voice like the steady rhythm of the waves, always pulling you all back to center.

it’s no surprise, then, that you find yourself drawn into spending more time with the newcomers, tsireya’s gentle insistence pulling you along as she helps guide them through the early days of their stay. you are metkayina; you know the ways of the water, the ebb and flow of the tides, the secrets that the ocean keeps. it’s your responsibility to teach them how to live in this world, even if you don’t want to.

at first, you hang back, letting tsireya do most of the talking, watching as she shows them how to breathe, how to move, how to swim like the metkayina do. it was exhausting just to look at them. lo’ak struggles to hold his breath, his frustration palpable as he tries again and again to stay underwater. kiri moves with a sort of distracted grace, her attention more focused on the creatures of the reef than the lesson itself. you observe them with detached interest, your thoughts drifting like the waves.

you don’t care about them. you don’t.

and then, tuk happens.

you hadn’t meant to pay attention to her. in fact, you had barely noticed her at all in the beginning, the youngest of the sully siblings blending into the background behind her older brothers and sister. but tuk has a way about her, a brightness that’s impossible to ignore. she’s all wide-eyed curiosity and boundless energy, so unlike the others, who carry the weight of their family’s uncertainty like a heavy cloak. while they are cautious, tuk embraces everything around her with an infectious enthusiasm that makes her impossible to overlook.

you catch her one day after a particularly long lesson, her small hands fumbling with a piece of seaweed, attempting to braid it into her hair for whatever reason. her brow is furrowed in frustration, her lower lip caught between her teeth in concentration, and something about her determination—her fierce little spirit—draws you in before you even realize what you’re doing.

“like this,” you murmur, kneeling beside her and gently taking the seaweed from her hands. your fingers work quickly, weaving the strands together with ease. “you have to twist it more. it’s not like the vines in the forest.”

tuk’s eyes widen, her expression lighting up with awe. “wow! you’re really good at that!”

and that’s it. from that moment on, you can’t seem to shake her. tuk becomes your shadow, or maybe it’s the other way around. wherever you go, she’s there, trailing after you with an endless stream of questions, her small footsteps pattering through the sand as she tries to keep up with your longer strides. her curiosity knows no bounds, and you find yourself drawn into her orbit, unable to resist the bright spark of joy that seems to follow her everywhere.

the first time she swims with you, her movements are awkward, her limbs too quick and too stiff, and she sputters as she breaks the surface, her wide eyes filled with frustration. “it’s too hard!” she huffs, pushing wet hair from her face. “i’ll never be as good as you.”

“you will,” you say gently. “you just have to feel the water. do not fight it.”

tuk frowns, unconvinced, but she doesn’t give up. over the days, you watch as she grows bolder, more confident in the water. you teach her how to control her breathing, how to let go of her fear, and she listens, her small face set in determined concentration. she clings to your arm after each lesson, her bright laughter ringing in your ears as she pulls you back to the beach.

and with tuk, inevitably, comes neteyam.

at first, you barely notice his presence, too busy entertaining tuk. he lingers on the outskirts of your time with her, watching from a distance, never quite joining in but never too far away either. it’s easy to forget he’s there, his quiet nature blending into the background.

but neteyam has a way of making himself known, even in his silence.

it starts small. you feel his gaze on you more often, the weight of it something you try to ignore at first. he never says much, never interrupts your time with tuk, but you notice him lingering just a bit closer with each passing day, his tall frame casting a shadow over you and tuk as she chatters on about whatever has caught her attention in that moment. sometimes, you catch him smiling—those soft, fleeting smiles that seem to disappear before you can fully register them. they’re rare, but when they happen, they make your heart stutter, a strange warmth blooming in your chest that you quickly dismiss.

he’s deliberate, thoughtful, always watching, always observing. you can feel his attention like the gentle pull of the tide, steady and unyielding. it’s unsettling, but not in a way that you dislike. in fact, if you’re honest with yourself, it’s kind of... comforting.

tuk even speaks about him sometimes, her admiration for him clear in every word. “neteyam would love this,” she says one day, as you show her to repair a torn fishnet. “he’s so good at everything. you’d like him, i think.”

tuk had been telling you some story about their home in the forest, her small hands moving animatedly as she spoke, when neteyam quietly joined the two of you. he folded his legs beneath him, watching with that same gentle expression he always wore when tuk was around. you paused, hands stilling over the bracelet you were working on, and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“you do not have to stop,” he said, his voice low and easy, the corners of his lips lifting in a small smile. “i am just here to watch.”

you thought about running away, getting up and leaving after making a up some excuse to remind them that you had better things to do than sit with them in the sand making bracelets. something about the way he spoke—his voice so warm and unhurried—caught you off guard. the way your heart bested faster when he was around, the way you caught yourself blushing like tsireya whenever lo'ak opened his mouth was... unusual. it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite put into words.

the three of you sat there in comfortable silence as you finished the bracelet, your hands working on autopilot while tuk chattered on, oblivious to the subtle shift in the air between you and her brother. you were grateful for her presence, for the way she kept things light without realizing it. by the time you tied the last knot and secured the bracelet around tuk’s wrist, you hadn’t noticed that neteyam had been watching you the whole time, with a softness that made you feel like he wasn’t just looking at you. he was seeing you.

“you are good at that,” he said quietly, his voice barely louder than the sound of the waves.

you tightened your grip on the edge of the bracelet you’d been working on for yourself, gaze dropping to the sand. “i have had practice.”

he nodded, still watching you. the weight of his gaze felt like a physical thing, pressing against your skin, exposing you in a way that made you feel uneasy. you were used to keeping your distance, keeping your indifference like a shield between you and his family. you had learned to tune it out, the presence of others—your people, the sullys—but with neteyam, it was different. you couldn’t ignore him the way you did the rest. but neteyam was quiet, his presence like the sea on a still morning, surrounding you without making a sound. you liked that.

as the sun dipped lower, casting warm golds and pinks across the sand, you tied the final knot and slid the bracelet onto your wrist. it wasn’t perfect—nothing ever was—but it felt right, the weight familiar against your skin. you held it up, inspecting your work, twisting your wrist slightly to catch the fading light.

“that one is beautiful,” neteyam said softly, his eyes on the small woven beads, the shells glinting like scattered stars. his gaze flicked to your wrist, then back to your face. “you should make me one.”

you blinked, your lips parting in surprise. “you want me to make you a bracelet?”

he smiled then, a small thing that felt like it could crack open the horizon. “well, you made one for tuk. i feel a little left out.”

you glanced at tuk, who was too busy showing off her new bracelet to the other children playing by the water to notice the exchange.

“i do not know,” you said slowly, turning the bracelet on your wrist. “i do not usually make things for people.”

neteyam tilted his head, his expression open, waiting. “you made one for tuk.”

“you do not even like it here,” you said suddenly, sharper than you intended. the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he opened his mouth to respond, but you continued before he could speak, your voice quieter this time. “you do not like us.”

the truth of it lingered in the space between you. you hadn’t forgotten the way they’d arrived, tense and uncertain, the way his brother had snapped at you and your people, the way his parents had worn their worry like a second skin. they didn’t belong here, and they knew it. the thought had made you laugh at first, but now, sitting here with neteyam, you didn’t know how to feel about it.

for a long moment, he was silent, his gaze turning out toward the sea, his expression unreadable. the light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the sand, and you could hear the distant calls of the other children as they played by the water. tuk’s laughter echoed somewhere nearby, but it felt distant, like the tide pulling away from the shore.

“you are right,” neteyam said finally, his voice low. “we do not belong here.”

the words were a simple acknowledgment, but they landed heavy between you, pressing down on your chest. you didn’t know why it bothered you to hear it. they didn’t belong. that was obvious. but there was something in the way he said it—something quiet, resigned—that made you realize just how heavy that truth must have felt for him, for all of them.

“but we are trying,” he added after a moment, his voice soft. “we are doing our best. even if it does not seem like it.”

your fingers tightened around the bracelet on your wrist, the edges rough against your skin. you could feel the weight of his gaze again, warm and steady, and for the first time, you met his eyes without looking away. there was something in them, something that caught you off guard. not sadness, exactly. not defeat. but acceptance. a quiet understanding that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so different after all.

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i will make you a bracelet,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “if you still want one.”

neteyam smiled again, that small, warm curve of his lips that felt like it could light up the entire ocean. “i would like that.”

over time, it became harder to stay distant, your walls cracking under the weight of his quiet companionship. you didn’t even realize how much you’d begun to change, how your awkwardness softened, until one day you caught yourself laughing at something neteyam had said—really laughing, not the half-smile you usually gave. it wasn’t that you’d stopped being strange or different, but it didn’t matter so much anymore. neteyam had a way of making you feel like it was okay to be the way you were, that there was no need to force yourself into shapes that didn’t fit. the space between you that once felt wide now felt smaller, warmer, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind the closeness.

he listened, the way he understood things without needing to say them. they spent more time together, sometimes with tuk, sometimes just the two of them, and slowly, quietly, something grew between them.

it was in the small moments—the way his hand would brush against yours when they walked, the way he’d smile at you from across the water. you didn’t fight it, didn’t push it away. you let it come, let it settle into your bones like the rhythm of the waves.

one evening, as you sat together on a small outcrop of rock, watching the sun sink into the horizon, neteyam turned to you, his expression soft and open in the fading light.

“you know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “tuk talks about you all the time.”

you smiled, “does she?”

he nodded, his gaze warm. “she adores you. she’s always telling me how you are the best swimmer, the best jewelry maker. she even started asking me to tell her stories about the forest, because she wants to impress you.”

her heart tightened at the thought, and she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “tuk is very easy to like.”

neteyam’s smile grew, and for a moment, you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the waves lapping gently at the shore below. then, quietly, he added, “she is not the only one who talks about you.”

you glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat. “oh?”

his gaze met yours, steady and sure, and the warmth in his eyes was enough to make you breath catch in her throat. “i do too. all the time.”

his gaze meets yours, steady and sure, and the warmth in his eyes is enough to make your breath catch in your throat. “i do too. all the time.”

you blink, caught off guard. a breeze rolls off the sea, pulling strands of your hair into your face, but you can’t bring yourself to move. his words hang in the air between you, sinking into your skin like the warm sun after a cold swim. all the time.

“why?” your voice comes out smaller than you mean for it to. you’re almost afraid to hear the answer, as if it would shift the ground beneath your feet, change the delicate balance that has settled between you both.

neteyam’s gaze softens, his lips curling into the smallest smile, and you realize, with a start, that he isn’t nervous at all. he seems sure of whatever it is that lingers in the space between you. quietly confident, like always. “i guess because... i think about you a lot.”

you open your mouth to say something, anything to fill the silence, but before you can find the words, a small voice cuts through the moment like a blade.

“hey!” tuk’s voice, sharp and high, breaks your quiet. you both turn to find her standing at the edge of the rocks, her little face pinched in frustration, her hands on her hips. “i knew it!”

your eyebrows shoot up, startled. “knew what?”

tuk stomps closer, her bare feet padding noisily across the stone. “i knew neteyam would steal you from me!” she jabs a finger in his direction, her small frame shaking with righteous indignation. “you’re my friend, not his!”

the words hit you like a slap, and you glance at neteyam, who looks equally taken aback, his mouth parting in surprise. tuk’s big eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and something in your chest squeezes painfully. you hadn’t even realized how much time you’d been spending with neteyam, how it must have felt to tuk, who had so eagerly claimed you as her own from the start.

neteyam steps forward, hands raised in surrender, his voice gentle. “hey, tuk. no one is stealing anyone.”

but tuk isn’t having it. her little fists clench, and she whirls on you, eyes wide and brimming with hurt. “you promised we’d make more jewelry! and swim with the ilus!” her bottom lip trembles, and she takes a step back, as if the distance will make the ache in your chest less sharp. “you said you were my best friend.”

guilt washes over you like a cold wave, chilling you to the bone. you kneel down, reaching for tuk’s small hand, but the little girl pulls away, hurt radiating off her in waves. “tuk, i did not mean to—”

“you don’t like me anymore.” tuk’s voice is small now, defeated, and your heart breaks at the sight of it, at the raw pain in her eyes. “you like him more.”

the words leave you stunned, speechless. you look to neteyam for help, but he stands frozen, his jaw tight, clearly torn between comforting his sister and letting her work it out. after a long pause, he crouches beside tuk, his voice soft and reassuring.

“that is not true,” he says quietly, his hand resting gently on tuk’s shoulder. “she is still your friend, tuk. i am just... lucky to be friends with her too.”

tuk sniffles, her little fists rubbing at her eyes, and your heart clenches in your chest. “but i found her first,” she mumbles.

you can’t help the soft smile that tugs at your lips at the child’s words, your heart aching in the best way. “you did find me first, tuk,” you say gently, finally managing to reach out and take her hand. tuk lets you this time, her fingers small and warm in your grasp. “and you are still my best friend. nothing is going to change that.”

tuk looks up at you with wide, watery eyes, still unsure. “promise?”

you squeeze her hand, your voice soft. “promise.”

after a moment, tuk’s shoulders relax, and she swipes at her face with the back of her hand. she glances between you and neteyam, her lip still trembling but her anger starting to fade. “okay,” she whispers, “but you have to make me another bracelet first.”

a small laugh escapes you, and you nod, relief settling into your bones. “deal.”

tuk brightens instantly, her smile returning in full force. “and you both have to swim with me tomorrow. no skipping!”

neteyam chuckles, brushing a hand through his braids. “we would not dream of it.”

satisfied, tuk gives a dramatic sigh before turning and running off toward the other children, her earlier tears forgotten. the weight of her outburst still lingers, though, and as you both stand there in the quiet aftermath, you realize just how much tuk’s words have struck something deep inside you. you like him more.

it isn’t true, is it? or maybe... maybe it is. you’re not sure anymore. the thought makes your throat tighten.

neteyam seems to sense the shift in you, his gaze turning serious as he watches you carefully. “you okay?” he asks, his voice soft, a little uncertain.

“i do not know,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “it feels...different.”

neteyam is silent for a long moment, his brows furrowing slightly as he steps closer, his presence a steady, comforting weight at your side. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, careful. “what does?”

you look up at him then, the words heavy on your tongue. “everything. you, me, tuk...”

neteyam's voice is quiet, almost hesitant as he asks, “is it a good different?” his eyes search yours, the question hanging in the air between you. there's an openness to him now, a vulnerability that makes you pause. you see him clearly in this moment—the forest boy with his thin tail, strong but out of place here in your world. his presence is unfamiliar yet comforting, the way his skin contrasts with the sea, the way he stands rooted even on shifting sand. the difference is undeniable, but it's not unsettling. it feels like something new, something good.

you meet his gaze, and in that instant, everything falls into place. his eyes, a deep shade that reminds you of the forest he came from, hold a quiet kind of warmth, like the steady burn of a fire. you're different, yes—he, with the wilderness in his bones, and you, with the sea in yours—but that contrast feels like a harmony rather than a divide. with a small nod, you let the truth settle between you, firm and certain. “yeah,” you murmur, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “it is.”

i'll proof read this when i get back home i have to go out now 😭

[lowkeyrobin]

OMG I've had this idea for a while but fuckshit x shy turned confident reader where they're in the same class but fuckshit doesn't really notices reader until reader starts dressing for themself and does things they want to do instead of letting people walk all over them and fuckshit starts developing a crush and starts seeing reader everywhere !!! Thank you love you robinnnn <33

-♠️

STOP I LOVE THIS WTF ♣️ dw I saw the other thing ik its u bae ; love you too freakazoid ; thanks for requesting pookieeee hope u enjoy

FUCKSHIT ; confidence

summary ; fuckshit develops a crush on the new you

warnings ; language, censored racial slur, weed

disclaimers ; fuckshits real name is gonna be olan (like the actor himself) as much as I don't like it that much it's the best bet + I don't wanna make up some random name for him 😭🙏 it's just bc ain't no teacher is gonna call him fuckshit and stuff ; also I do censor the n word one bc I'm not black, two it's how ray and fuckshit talk, it's not overused or anything, I'm just not trying to whitewash their speech and mannerisms and them reclaiming that word is kinda important for them because they're black skaters in the 90s so 🙏

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You used to cover yourself up a lot, even during summer. Sweaters and long sweatpants and jeans paired with hightop Converse were your usual outfits, even in the blazing LA heat.

You skated here and there, not at any parks or popular spots, just around. You shared a class with Olan, or Fuckshit as he likes to be called, at school. You had 12th period history with him, where he sat next to you.

You were very shy and reserved, you never talked to anyone unless spoken to and spent your time in the back of the class just getting through your work. Every so often, Fuckshit would try to talk to you to little or no avail. He never really noticed you much in the hallway or any other class either, so he didn't have any other way to talk to or see you through the day.

He didn't know much about you, which is why he also didn't know much about how you'd let people walk over, use, and bully you. He'd defended you in class once, but that was the extent of it. He wasn't a bully whatsoever, a fuckboy, yeah, but he wouldn't make fun of you for some dumb reason like the way you dress or the way you bite your nails.

But, now, he couldn't help but stare at you.

He could finally see your gorgeous eyes again, your smile proving that you were much happier this way. You seemed so excited and confident. He even noticed you in the hallway talking to someone with a smile on your face.

He had to say something.

"Oh, shit, like your shirt. Gravediggaz is fire." He smiles.

You return said smile. "Oh, thanks! You listen?"

"Hell yeah, n****"

He sees the kids who usually made fun of you snicker and whisper a few feet away, but pays them no mind. You follow his gaze and get a quick look before rolling your eyes and turning back to him.

"Fucking annoying" You say, placing a finger gun to your temple. "You skate, right?"

"Yeah, why? You trynna hang?"

"Maybe" You chuckle and shrug, "Going to the courthouse, just wanna show off some tricks at that party. Wanna come with me? You'd make it way less embarrassing"

"Yeah, of course" He grins, "Mind if I bring my boys along?"

"Oh, please. The more the merrier" You nod, "I'll be under the left tree at six, yeah?"

"Yeah"

Safe to say he couldn't wait to talk to you later considering he wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. Ray had been making fun of him all afternoon while Fourthgrade filmed it all, Ruben's laughter prominent in the background.

He was basically bouncing off the walls as the minutes ticked away, time coming closer and closer as to when he'd see you again.

"Put your dick away"

"Shut the fuck up! I'm just excited"

"Yeah, excited alright"

"I swear to God-"

He basically sprinted out the door when it hit 5:50, leaving the others in the dirt as he skated down the sidewalk as fast as humanly possible.

He saw you waving for him as he entered, and he quickly walked towards you with a smile and a blunt in his hand.

"Hey" He smiles, offering you said blunt.

You take it and blow a puff out of it, "Hey, glad you made it. Where's your friends?"

He looks over to the side, waving to a group of boys who were clearly trying to look for him. The three nod and talk toward you two, talking about something you couldn't hear.

You wave to them as they approach and sit with you, joining the conversation about everything skate and music related. As the sun sets, the area illuminated by white and colorful neon lights, you get up onto the building, top of the stairs, to show off some tricks. You see Fuckshit and his friends watching you, along with many other strangers who were watching other skaters show their shit off.

You grind down the metal railing and hop off with a kickflip. You glance over at the curly haired blonde, who's shouting some inaudible compliments. You see his one friend, tall and blonde, filming with a Camcorder. You didn't mind, you thought it was pretty sick.

The youngest out of them, maybe fourteen or so, hands a blunt to the dark-skinned boy with the locs, both of their eyes on you, like they're scanning your high-school coolness level or something.

"Ayeee, that was sick as fuck!"

"Olan, is there something you need to share with the class?"

Fuckshit's eyes slightly widen as he slowly looks up at the teacher who'd caught you two whispering in the back of class.

"Nah, I'm good"

The teacher turns back to the board as you two quietly smile and snicker.

He can't help but get lost in your happiness, feeling comfort in your sneaky smile. He can't help but adore everything about you, from your humor to your skating, your music interests, it was like you were made for him.

The bell rings, nearly popping your eardrums once more as it dismisses you for the day. You walk side by side through the halls, taking the longest way through the school to go toward the front doors to leave.

"I just don't understand being a poser like that, it ain't getting you any pussy" He laughs, agreeing with your long tangent about how being new at skating didn't mean you were a poser, and that being a poser is lame. "Like what you doing when someone asks if you can do a trick or show them? You just paid for a deck to look cool?"

"Exactly! They act like we can't tell who's a poser and who's not!"

You reach the entrance, having to go your separate ways home.

"See you tomorrow, dude" You smile with a light chuckle, waving him a little goodbye as you step on your board to skate away.

"See ya! I'll bring those cookies tomorrow too!" He smiles and waves back at you.

Ray and Fourthgrade approach, confused and amused looks on their faces.

"Cookies? When did you become a baker, n***?" Ray asks.

"Shut the fuck up, I owe them"

"For what?" He asks again as the trio walk down the sidewalk, straying away from the street til they got off school property.

"Inviting us to that thing on Friday, and homework answers"

"Ugh, here he goes again"

[yandere--stuck]

Do YOU want a custom written work that you can pay for with money? I know I do, and I'm here to deliver!

Disclaimer: I can turn down commissions for any reason. It's nothing personal! It's likely for a variety of reasons.

There are currently THREE slots available!

What I can do:

Character x Reader, Character x Self Insert, Character x Character, Poly relationships, etc.

Character x OC, OCs in general (but explanations on the OC's personality and appearance is necessary)

Yandere, Platonic/Familial Yandere, General Romance, Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort or Hurt/No Comfort, Fluff, Comedy, etc.

NSFW

Gore/Eroguro

What I cannot do:

There are certain fetishes/kinks or ships I feel uncomfortable with writing, just ask me when you're interested and I'll let you know if I can do it👍

(Note: Please be specific with your scenario, if possible!)

Fandoms I've Written For Previously:

(Note: I'd recommend perusing the masterlist for examples! And you can ask for other media featured in the masterlist, these are just the ones I feel most confident with at this time)

Animal Crossing

Batman (Various Media - please be specific with which version you'd like!)

Bugsnax

Cookie Run

Devil May Cry

Five Nights at Freddy's

Fear & Hunger

Freakazoid!

Gravity Falls

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Homestuck/Hiveswap

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

Moral Orel

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Smiling Friends

Transformers: Prime

So, how are we doing this thing?:

I currently only take commissions through cashapp! Message me for my cash tag ^^

Half of the money will be sent prior to the commission being written, then you can send the other half once it's complete!

$5 dollar for every 500 words, so:

500 words - $5

1,000 words - $10

1,500 words - $15

2,000 words - $20

And so on!

Turnaround Time:

It may vary, but I try to get them done relatively quickly!

[nathandrakeisabottom]

When Sunlight Hits : Nathan Drake x Reader

Summary: After the events of a more-than-fortunate sleeping bag situation, you and Nate play chicken to decide whether or not your twin confessions the night before were in the heat of the moment... or exist even brighter in broad daylight. Warning: None! Just some fluffy quick-fic goodness! Reader is briefly implied to be blonde/redhead/etc. with brown/hazel eyes due to the specific dialogue some unrelated freakazoid wrote. Feel free to disregard.

Your first time. Your first time back. You almost can’t believe it.

You’re wearing a dress. He’s wearing a suit. And the drinks you both hold are only to soften the brutality that follows. For one brief hour, you two find the will to believe you deserve to soften, deserve to meet your worlds intertwined in the middle. Where danger becomes mundane, and where danger is born from the mundane. 

Born in a ballroom in Italy. 

“You havin’ a good time?” Nathan smiles with teeth, grip leveraging up to mindlessly swirl his glass of whiskey. It’s three quarters of the way gone, but that doesn’t near out-do your double drag of lemon drop. Or maybe he’s just better at holding it than you are.

“It’s alright.” You match his grin with your own, blood beating with the drum and twirl of alcohol, heart palpitating to be so close to him. He doesn’t move his arm when your elbows bump on a lean over the balcony. He smells like vanilla sandalwood and aftershave. Overwhelming. Perfect. “A bit disappointed I haven’t bagged any hotties yet.”

He laughs full and open— and your heart takes a breathtaking nosedive. “Well, there’s still time.”

His body leans further over the railing, eyes scanning through the stripes of jade, ruby, sapphire, amethyst, black silk-covered crowd, eagle-eyeing for a win. “Anyone your type?” 

And maybe it’s just the liquor that does it, cheeks flushed and making the whole room spin warm and possible, that makes you spitball a death-defying risk.

“...Sam’s single, isn’t he?” 

You take a half-glance over the rim of your glass on another sip. And Nathan’s eyes bug in some reaction you can’t quite decipher. Your heartbeat thunders for his reply.

“S-Sam?! Are you kidding me?” His mouth falters for a fallen grin, or maybe he’s just swallowing back upchuck. No self-respecting man would give the go-ahead for a friend to jump the bones of his potential crack-head older brother. “Please tell me you're joking.”

“And what if I wasn’t?” 

You trail, slinking up onto a nearby pub table bathed in white linen, ankle crossing over ankle. You play coy so you can ignore the way your hands start to sweat. But the alcohol, the flabbergasted way he looks at you makes it easy to forget.

“Nah… nah, I don’t see it.” 

And Nate leaves it at that before swigging back and emptying the last of his glass. A pathetically reasonless answer. But you need more.

Please.

Oh god please, you need more. 

“Why not?” The next gulp makes your thoughts warp. You’re far from sober, even farther from thirst, but your body does what is necessary for your growing fight or flight. You don’t even know the person who asks with such mystique. 

He says nothing, only tips back his head for the backwash remnants of a drink that no longer exists. 

“What kind of person do you think would be better?” You’re putting your life on the line when you ask it, balancing precarious upon a tightrope as wonderfully garish tulle collects sweat between your chest, between your thighs, beneath your fucking pits. There is no escape from what his presence does to your body, to your barely beating heart. What his answer could possibly incite next. 

“Better? Well, uh…” 

But maybe it doesn’t really matter. 

“Blonde or Brunette?” You swing back to standing when he’s pulled back abash from speech, palms swaying just barely against your laying skirt. You hope he likes the dress you picked. 

You know you do.

“What does that matter?”

“Just curious what you think.”

“Well, brunette would… pair better, I guess.” His reply warbles uncomfortable at the edges, reluctantly sets his glass down when no reason to hold presents itself. And you’d be dumb to not notice the way he eyes your dress— wishing with all your heart that he was eyeing you— sinking into bombastic, glaring hues for example. “I know you like color contrast.”

You hover on closer to him. It’s everything your body chooses without you.

“I–- I don’t know! Whatever you like best is fine, I’m sure.” His breath barely breaches past withholding hysteria. Downstairs: glasses clink, a gentle jazz thrums through the echoing space, rich crimson reds of parted, velvet curtains, satin cloth magnetizing to a triple dozen wealthy socialites’ curves, dips, hips, tricks. 

And yet his eyes are only on you, cloudy over and gorgeous sky, before they pull back once again. Shrugging shoulders do little to hide his timidity. It’s a way you never see him when Sam and Sully are around. It’s the way he is when your heart plucks over his safe, beautiful, gentlemanly visage and fawns. 

“Blue eyes?” And now textile has been added for sight, fingers carefully moving over the soft polyester of his suit, a touch you would never have the courage to give without the booze. The music. The dress. The solitude. “For the contrast?”

“Heh, I guess that makes sense.” His chest stutters for inhale as his warmth meets yours, quirking sideways smiles you want to taste and grin against and give love to. “Whatever you like.” 

You slide your palm across his back, nestle, thumb over where his shoulder blades sit. The places on his body you want to wring the pain out of. He takes a less than steady inhale. Form forced to turn towards it. And his eyes speak such tender shyness into yours.

You love him.

You want to tell him in the places he might actually believe you.

“How about someone sweet? Boy— man— next door type?” His eyes drop bashfully at the closeness, lips still quirking in that petal-soft grin. “Someone who will be good and gentle with me. That’s what I like.”

Your fingers brave farther, farther, farther, and the wool polyester translates into starch cotton and the big band below is playing smooth jazz you’d have to be an idiot to not think is romantic and the liquor bubbles and pounds and twitters through your skin so strong that it dematerializes any pointless barrier.

And you ask:

“What do you think?”

He finally looks up at you. His lips look unbearably soft, and in any and every other instance that you’ve known him, you would’ve near thrown yourself into the sea for even daring to look. But when you look back up, he’s only looking back at yours. 

“That sounds… nice.” — Soft, dreamy, distant. Like he’s a hundred miles away and inside your very soul simultaneously.

And you’re so stupid, so fucking stupid. 

“Do you know anyone like that?” 

And he’s stupid, so fucking stupid.

And so fucking brave. 

“Maybe.”

This time, for the first time, he doesn’t speak coy words he hardly makes coy, doesn’t reach for his empty glass to combat the nerves, to fix his uneven footing. Or maybe there’s just no more space for his hands to even reach with how close you drift. His eyes are soft and gentle when he looks back up at you, cautious and bearing all that the man with a gun refuses to. 

Or maybe just never allows himself to.

“I know one.”

And that’s when you finally, finally, finally—

Fucking finally—

After all this fucking time—

In the light of a full moon and a marble-sheened dance floor, outside the world of dreams, outside of secrets held in warm sleeping bags and claustrophobic caves and all the life you didn't live until you found each other, finally, finally, within your sunlit, unashamed reality—

You meet him into a kiss.

[miyyaori]

better treatment

➳ il dottore x gn!reader

➳ cw: DOTTORE, slight gore, implied stockholm!reader, gentle dottie <33

➳ a/n: feeding you freakazoids a late night snack while i get started on the requests!! i LOVED every single one of them and i'll get on them ASAP!!

➳ word count: 705 (a snack)

Cold hands caressing down the middle of your bare back woke you up from your light, drug-induced slumber. Your eyes fluttered open and then closed again tiredly, eyelashes kissing your dusty-pink cheeks. Torso bare, you laid stomach down on what you could only guess was one of Dottore’s dissection tables. Your head was to the side, cheek planted on the chilling metal. You weren’t sure if the metallic smell was from the stainless steel.

You could only hope.

“Ah, there you are.” You could hear the smile in Dottore’s voice. His icy fingers grazed along the sides of your torso, stopping at your waist. He hummed, satisfied, before sharing the silence with you. Goosebumps kissed your skin and you wished you could move; use your vision to warm the aching cold –- oh. You forgot that you had that gift ripped away from you moons ago.

It’s for the better he told you, and maybe it was. It’s an uncontrolled variable, dear. Though, you wished at times that you still had it. It interferes with the results I'm looking for. You didn’t understand how your vision could do how he described, but oh well. There was no igniting the flame on the useless pendant that you used to keep hanging by your hip.

Dottore’s fingers raking through your hair brought you back from your thoughts. His touch was gentle, but too cold to feel comforting. It came to you as a shock feeling Dottores bare fingertips ever so gently massaging your sore scalp.

You could've dozed off right then and there,

But white hot pain burned through you brighter than any star in the night sky. The scalpel slid effortlessly through the skin of your back with perfect precision, and you could feel thick crimson beads pooling at the opening. You wanted to scream, but you clenched your teeth together like it would somehow dull the throbbing burn along your spine.

“Any pain?” a playful tone laced his words. He thought he was being funny. The hand in your hair was pulling gently on your roots but Dottore was keeping your head from moving. You could feel the heat of your skin warming the table beneath you, the cold no longer prickly against your flush body.

“Remind me again of your medication.” Dottore was looking at you through his mask, his lips resting in a slight frown.

“I, uhm…” Your mind was drawing blanks and you couldn't help the pained moans slip past your pale lips. The slur of medical words always went through one ear and out the other. It was as if he was speaking another language. The way he gushed as he listed the side effects of each new medication made the tips of your fingers tingle. On one hand, he knew what he was talking about and there wasn't a single detail he missed; you knew exactly what to expect. On the other hand, it made you feel wary of how happy he was to explain to you about all the negative effects you would experience.

“I expected as much. Lack of mental clarity is commonly associated with your condition.” You could feel Dottore’s hard glare burning into you, disappointed at your lacking response.

Funny he mentioned forgetfulness, though. Often there were times you couldn't recall why you were under his care to begin with. But time and time again, he reminded you that you were with him to get help — that he wanted to help you.

You could feel Dottore slipping something beneath your icy skin. Your mind wasn't allowed to wonder because Dottore was pushing it deeper and deeper into your body. You were gritting your teeth together, praying to the Archons it would stop.

"Shh, shh, shh. Almost there, dear."

Dottore grounded you by running his free hand up the length of your torso and you could feel the effects of his touch in the pit of your stomach.

The needle piercing the flesh of your back, sewing your body back to whole, was nothing compared to the painful throb that ached your body.

“Welcome back, my dear.” Eyes resting for a moment, you imagined that there was a smile on Dottore’s lips as he praised you.

It's what made any of it worth it.

[honeybeeloxs]

Creased Paper

Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Male Reader

Oh wow, I'm back... I suppose anyways this was a request, kinda getting back into writing, so if this isn't as good, it's whatever. Tried my best, and that's all that matters. Also, the Relationship isn't like stated in any way; it's hinted... aka not really at all. Y/N likes crazy boys, and Stu and Billy are said crazy boys without him knowing.

Y/N has always thought the new masked killer that just killed a classmate of his was pretty cute, Hell, he doesn't even know what the fucker looks like but he's sneaky, shifty, bold, and strong, Y/N's friends however don't take him seriously.

"Y'know… I think he's cute." Y/N mutters as he scribbles on his English homework; Tatum scoffs, snatches the paper, rolls it up, and hits him over the head. "Don't joke about that freakazoid," Tatum says, eyebrows furrowed, and let's go of the paper, the ends bending in a way that Mrs. Schiffer won't like, probably have a few points docked off for it.

"I'll have you know; I have to hand that in, Tatum," Y/N said, holding the paper close to his chest, his polo creasing the paper. Tatum's facial expression hardened, "Maybe don't joke about people who got gutted." She snided as she threw a grape at him. “H-How… do you uh… gut someone….” Sidney interrupted her friend's bickering with a question; she sat up, fixing her posture and blue shirt. Y/N looked down at his paper, crossed one of his legs, and began writing again, slowly tuning out the conversation, fantasizing about the masked psychopath, bold, stealthy, and strong Y/N could only drool over him, sneaking in and out of his house after having a wild night with Y/N's mom not even noticing he had someone over.

"Randy, you goon, I'm trying to eat," Tatum yells at the brunette teen with Stu mocking his girl, "She's getting mad, all right? You better, liver alone!" Stu laughs and looks around as Billy slaps him over the head, "Liver.., Liver… It was a joke." he looks around, looking for validation, only for Tatum to tuck her hair behind her ear and shake her head. Billy shook his head, and a little smirk formed on his face while Stu looked around, smiling and giggling at his own fucked up joke.

"Y'know, he's bold and quick; I like him," Y/N said to Tatum, who looked at him like a crazy person. "Right… anyways, I thought we should do a sleepover or something to cheer Sidney up. Y'know her dads out of town." The blonde said as she continued writing an essay for a book he hadn't read. "And you need new material; the joke about the crazy psycho isn't funny," Tatum said, biting her pencil eraser as she finished her sentence. Y/N huffed as the bell rang; Tatum grabbed his hand and met Sidney out in front just before she entered the School Bus.

Tomorrow was another day.

[jokenotfunny]

Revamped Rewrite of "Atychiphobia , 007" - previously :

Eddie / Steve x platonic!experiment!reader.

( i’m back freakazoids 😄😄😄)

You were born in Chicago, Illinois in 1971, living an ordinary life until strange things began to happen around you. Every time you were upset, objects would burst into flames or fly across the room. Your parents, overwhelmed and out of answers after countless calls, doctor’s appointments, (and even a few visits to your local church if you know what I mean,) you were finally referred to a man named Dr. Brenner. Promising to “help,” Brenner quickly took you in.

So now, at just three years old, you found yourself under Hawkins National Laboratory’s cold lights, meeting others like you—El, (008), a friendly orderly named Peter, and

By 1983, you’d been there a grating ten years. That was also the year you and Eleven made your escape. The outside world was chaotic and overwhelming after so long inside, and soon after fleeing together, you lost each other in the forest.

Days passed, and you were exhausted, hungry, and bruised from wandering through the unfamiliar terrain. Just when you were about to give up, a strange sound cut through the trees. It was unlike anything you’d ever heard. Hypnotized, you followed the sound until you stumbled upon the edge of a trailer park.

The noise grew louder, drawing you to a boy sitting alone on a picnic table, holding a strange object in his hands—a guitar. He couldn’t have been much older than you, but his hair was wild, and his fingers plucked at the guitar strings with a confidence that made the world feel brighter for a moment.

Eddie Munson, sixteen and ever the rebel, had no plans to play quietly. When he heard footsteps, he half-expected a neighbor (probably Mrs. Nolan) coming to yell at him. Instead, he looked up to find a kid in a hospital gown, bare feet covered in dirt and a wide-eyed stare.

“Uh… hi?” he managed.

You just blinked, eyeing the guitar with both fascination and fear.

As Eddie got off the table, you tensed. Eddie noticed your flinch, the dried blood under your nose, and the cuts on your legs, reminding him of the recent news about missing kids. This wasn’t some prank—something had happened to you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, putting his hands up. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

You took a step back, every instinct urging you to run. But then something howled in the distance, freezing you in place. Eddie noticed your fear and softened his tone even more.

“Let’s get inside, alright? I don’t want anyone calling the cops on us. Trust me, they’re not as helpful as you’d think.”

Inside, Eddie gave you a Van Halen shirt and some sweatpants. When you tried changing right there, he quickly stopped you, face red. “Whoa—don’t do that! I mean, not in front of guys you don’t know, okay?” You nodded, a little confused, as he explained and left the room.

When you finally emerged, Eddie set a slice of cold pizza in front of you and tried to get you talking. “Ever had pizza before?”

You shook your head and took a cautious bite, which Eddie watched, amazed as you practically inhaled the slice. After a while, he asked, “So… my name’s Eddie. What’s yours?”

You pointed at your wrist, showing the number tattooed there. “007.”

“Like… James Bond?” He joked, but your blank stare told him you didn’t know what he was talking about. When you pointed at yourself and repeated, “Me,” Eddie got the hint and softened.

“Well, we can work with that. Maybe we call you ‘Seven’ or ‘Van’—you know, like Van Halen! Or maybe ‘Ozzy’?” You nodded, and Eddie laughed, feeling like he was finally getting somewhere.

The next morning, Eddie woke up to find you sitting on the floor, plucking at his guitar’s strings. Normally, he’d have a meltdown seeing anyone handle his guitar, but he could tell you didn’t know any better. When he asked if you liked it, you quickly dropped the guitar and apologized.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie reassured, showing you how to hold it and strum without snapping the strings. You asked him to play “the one from last night,” so he played Black Sabbath’s *Children of the Grave*, the song that had drawn you to him.

Eddie spent the next few days teaching you guitar basics and introducing you to all his favorite bands. You especially liked Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne’s wild stories, and you loved when he’d crank up the music and start dancing around. “This is *metal*,” he said, grinning as he showed you the classic devil horns hand gesture.

You copied him, saying, “Metal!” which made Eddie laugh, thrilled that you were opening up. He even took you to Main Street once, disguising you with a baseball cap and oversized sunglasses.

But things changed when his uncle, Wayne, came home early. He wasn’t thrilled to find Eddie skipping school, even less thrilled to find a strange girl in his clothes, sitting at the table and listening to him explain D&D.

“Hey, Ed, can we talk?”

Wayne pulled Eddie into the other room, leaving you nervously listening as their voices rose. Eddie tried to explain, but his uncle didn’t want to hear it.

“If something’s wrong, you call the police. What if they think you kidnapped her, Eddie?”

“No way! She’s a kid—she *needed* help!”

The argument kept escalating until Wayne threw his hands up in frustration. You reacted instinctively, raising your hand and sending him flying into the wall. When the dust settled, Eddie was staring at you, stunned, and Wayne was slumped against the wall, wide-eyed.

“I didn’t mean to—I thought he was going to hurt you! I’m sorry!” you shouted, panicking. Before either of them could say anything, you ran out of the trailer, vanishing into the night.

Days passed with no sign of you. Eddie searched everywhere after school, but it was like you’d disappeared. He would’ve thought he’d imagined the whole thing if not for the dent in the wall and the silence hanging over the house since you left.

Two weeks later, Eddie was in his room retuning his guitar when Wayne knocked on the door.

“Hey Ed, i’m about to head out , try not to stay up too late, alright?”

See, Wayne had been informed my Mrs. Nolan, one early afternoon when he arrived back home, that after he would leave for work at night, his nephew would leave the trailer before trailing into the woods for hours at a time. sometimes not until the early hours of the morning.

Which lead to another argument between the two munson men. Shouts of "she's a nosy bitch, who should worry about what her husband does at night instead of my shit!" and "Watch your mouth! If she wasn't watching, what would i do if you went missing too, one night, huh?!"

After that Eddie stopped going out at night, and he also didn't talk much, unless spoken to by Wayne first.

“Okay. Have a good night.” Eddie said monotonously, not looking up from his guitar.

“Oh! and uh, I ran into Garrett from the photo shop. Said these were yours.”

Wayne tossed him a manila envelope, before taking his leave. After a few minutes of back and forth glances at the thing, he finally picked it up out if curiosity.

Inside was a single photo: you and Eddie at the general store, doing the metal sign with your tongues out, smiling.

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, his breath stuttering a bit. He had proof now—not to show anyone, but proof that you were real, that he hadn’t imagined his “coolest kid ever.” He quickly scribbled “Eddie & Van, Nov. 1983” on the back of the picture and pinned it next to his guitar.

He didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, but at least now he’d have a memory.

It would be three more years before you crossed paths again.

But that’s a story for another time.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Here- silly doodle of my idea of what Isekai reader looks like

Freak of nature, a Freakazoid even-

Look at their chaotic little self! (It looks like they've seen the void~)

They're just happy to exist and enjoying skating between dimensions (and meeting so many alternate selves and running from platonic yans!) They'll bee-bop across the multiverse, and even to their old (awful) world, Earth 20-20-X, all for the sake of having fun and being a chaotic gremlin!

I love their little rollerskates and headphones with the smiley face and spiral eye! They're just a little strange bean! (And are chaotic neutral or chaotic good!)

What Readers do you like? And which AUs are your favorites? And please, have a 🍓🥛🥤

[adidastain]

gestures of affection

90s trey parker x fem reader (unnamed)

warnings: suggestive dialogue

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 2218

—

“I fucking hate my job,” I groaned under my breath, closing my door rather violently. I didn’t notice the body on my sofa until it spoke.

“That comes as a surprise,” Trey said. It took me a moment to process that he was being sarcastic. He looked quite comfortable; his entire body was sprawled out over the entire length of my couch. He was eating some leftover pasta.

He startled me, but I was relieved to see him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drop in unannounced, but it usually wasn’t until 9 or 10.

“What, you just come and go, acting like you own the place now?” I teased him, tossing my jacket onto his head.

“I had a day off,” he explained, removing my hoodie from his face and placing it at the top of the couch.

I walked over to the fridge, looking to see what food there was. “And you think you can just eat my leftovers?” I gasped, grasping my chest in fake shock.

Trey stood up and came up to me in the kitchen, taking the last few bites of pasta right in front of my face. “Oh, this is your pasta?” He said, teasing me.

I stared at him, trying not to show him that I was amused. He finished the pasta and tossed his dishes in the sink, rinsing them out. “Pardon,” he said, reaching to open the fridge behind me.

I didn’t move, making him have to brush up on me in order to reach inside the fridge. His chest met mine as his arm snaked into the top shelf to grab a Coke. I couldn’t hold in my laughter as his cheek brushed mine.

“Sorry, am I in your way?” I asked, placing my hands on each side of his torso.

Trey hummed. “No,” he said softly. He planted a few small kisses below my jaw, his free hand snaking up to hold my waist as he closed the refrigerator with his other hand.

He was so annoying. I loved that about him.

Trey reached behind my head to take the plastic claw clip out of my hair, running his fingers through it and pulling my body closer to him. His lips lingered on a sensitive spot behind my ear. He knew damn well it was gonna give me goosebumps.

“Trey, no. I’m so gross right now,” I laughed, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

“Maybe I like it,” He argued, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. He looked at me straight on, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. “How would you know?”

“Well, the excruciating 9 hours of work I put in today along with the gallon bucket of sweat I'm about to wring out of these clothes are pretty convincing,” I stated. Trey shook his head and mumbled something, before leaning back in towards my neck.

“Are you staying over?” I asked softly, trying to dodge his kiss attack. Trey just pulled me closer and hummed into my neck. I felt his teeth lightly dig into my skin.

I laughed. “Is that a yes?”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’m trying to swoon you. I need to focus.”

I felt his hands slip underneath the hem of my shirt, fingertips ghosting the already goose-bump covered skin of my torso. They were cold in contrast to his lips, which continued moving up and down my neck and shoulders.

“I can’t let you go any further,” I grimaced. “I need a shower.”

“No,” he mumbled into my neck. Trey wrapped his arms around me tightly, hugging me as he continued to kiss along my jaw.

“I will hit you in the balls. Let go,” I threatened, lightheartedly of course.

“Fine,” he huffed.

“And put some socks on, freak. I don’t want your disgusting freakazoid toe germs all over my couch,” I teased, poking him in the stomach as I turned around and made my way to my bedroom.

“Think of it as a token of my love. Dost thou not appreciate my gestures of affection to thee?” Trey announced, allowing himself to move back into the living room. I rolled my eyes and closed my bedroom door behind me.

I tried to spend as little time in the shower as possible, but I kept falling asleep in my head. Part of me wanted Trey to invite himself into the shower with me, but neither of us were in any way at that stage in our relationship just yet.

I ended up deciding to shave while I was in there, just for the hell of it. Of course, this took an extra 20 minutes. My hands stung from how badly they’d pruned.

By the time I was out of the shower, it was an appropriate time to go to sleep. I put on an old T-shirt and shorts and went into the living room, where Trey was once again sprawled out on the sofa. This time, with socks on.

I crawled on top of him without saying a word, just letting my weight sink into him as I laid down. Almost instantly, his hand made its way up under my shirt to trace gentle shapes on my skin with his fingertips. With the other, he ran his fingers through my damp hair. It was heavenly.

“Thanks for coming over,” I said softly, my face half buried in his chest.

“Thanks for giving me a key,” Trey laughed. The soft buzz of his voice vibrated through his chest, pressed right up against my ear. I laughed softly, sliding my leg in between his. “I had to get away from the guys.”

“So you didn’t want to come by just to see me?” I said, propping myself up on my elbows to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m pretty much just using you for a place to stay,” Trey said. “Not even sex.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. I knew he was just joking around. It wasn’t entirely either of our faults alone that we hadn’t advanced to third base yet. I was nervous. I guess maybe he was too, or he wanted to wait as long as possible so that when the time finally came, it was worth the wait. However, I’m sure if I told him that I was ready, he’d jump on the opportunity like a savage animal. “That’s not my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Trey half grunted as he sat up, pulling me into his lap. He reached over the arm of the couch for one of my throw blankets, which were all folded in a pile in a basket next to the sofa. He threw it over me, having me sit straddling his hips while he was sort of curled up too.

Trey’s hands pushed my hair behind my ears, making space for his lips to lay in the crook of my neck. His palms traveled down my arms and onto my waist, tenderly caressing me as he covered me with soft kisses.

“Trey…” I hummed, laughing softly out of nerves.

“I’m just kissing you,” he said, proceeding to pepper my skin with gentle grazes of his lips below my jaw. His hands slipped underneath my shirt once again; his thumbs softly stroking my sides. “That’s it.”

“Hm, and next you’ll just be squeezing my boobs, no strings attached. And then your hands will be in my pants. That’s all,” I hummed, teasing him.

“I’m serious,” he said. I felt his hand spread out on the small of my back, pulling me closer. Trey pulled away from my neck to look me in the eyes, glancing between them and my lips.

I wanted to die in his arms.

My hand moved up to caress his face, pulling him in. He kissed all up along my cheek, tenderly. It was so quiet, all I could hear was his lips clicking and my heart racing. The TV was on low volume and was playing a soap opera.

I turned my head towards him, closing off my neck so that he’d kiss me on the lips.

“Kiss me,” I whispered. It was more of a breath, it was so quiet. I wanted nothing other than his lips on mine, breathing one another in.

“I can’t,” he giggled softly. Trey’s nose brushed against mine as I pulled him closer, both hands on either side of his face. “You know I can’t. The smell of your shampoo has fucked me up enough already. I’ve been holding my breath.”

I rolled my eyes and kissed him anyway, feeling his body melt under me as our lips met. Trey rested his head back, taking it all in.

“Your problem now,” Trey sighed, grinning in between kisses. “I tried to warn you.”

I felt what he was talking about after shifting my position. I ignored it, keeping my kisses soft and lacking any intention other than to just be a gentle affectionate gesture.

Trey made it seem like he was drowning - like I was strangling him or something. “You’re the one who put me in your lap,” I told him, keeping my tone low. This earned me a small vocal reaction from him.

One of his hands took a hold of my hip, pulling me further into him. With each kiss, he opened his mouth more and more, and I did the same. Our kisses were still slow, but passionate.

I felt one of his fingers hook under the waistband of my shorts, so I pulled away. “Don’t even think about it,” I laughed, sitting up so my face was far from his.

His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing quite rapidly. Trey looked at me with the softest doe eyes he could possibly muster up, a small smile present in his lips.

He moved his hand, pulling me close again so he could keep kissing my neck. I heard him hum softly in bliss as he tugged my hips towards him.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” I said softly, using the same low, gentle tone I had before. My fingers made their way through Trey’s hair, pulling on it slightly in an attempt to lift his head up.

Trey whined, pouting as I sat up and leaned away from him. For the past few days that he’d spent the night, he slept on the sofa. Occasionally, I’d sleep with him there, but he never came into my bed.

“Come with me,” I said softly, kissing his cheek. I kissed a spot below his ear, tracing his jaw on the other side of his face with my other hand.

“To bed?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” I hummed. I kissed him softly on the lips before looking into his eyes.

“For real?” Trey whispered. He had the most awestruck look in his eyes, seemingly shocked that I invited him into my bedroom but excited nonetheless.

“Yeah,” I laughed. We both sat up, Trey somewhat frantically grabbing the remote to turn off the TV.

I led him into my bedroom, closing the door behind us and watching Trey awkwardly sit on the edge of the bed.

“You have to sleep on top of the covers,” I told him, teasing him. I turned off the overhead light and climbed into my bed, waiting for him to join me.

“Are you fucking with me?” He asked cautiously.

“Yes, nimrod. C’mere,” I laughed.

Trey slipped under the covers next to me, awkwardly adjusting so he was comfortable and avoiding touching me all together.

“I’ve had Journey stuck in my head all day,” he complained, laying down on his back and staring at the ceiling.

I turned my bedside lamp off. “Which song?” I asked.

“Uh,” Trey thought. I lifted his arm so that he could put it around me and I could cling to his body with my head on his chest. “‘Mmm… Tearin’ me apart… Every, every day’… something like that,” He huffed, singing the single bit of that song that he actually knew.

“The one that’s like ‘Na Na Na Na Na Na,’” he sang again.

“Yeah. I love that song,” I said, wrapping my arm around his stomach and pressing my ear to his chest. His heartbeat was soft but rapid.

“What’s it called?” Trey asked me.

“I dunno,” I laughed.

“That’s helpful,” He stated, laughing with me.

It grew quiet. I closed my eyes, listening to Trey’s heartbeat slow down as he took deeper breaths. He pulled the covers up further and turned to his side, facing me.

We both giggled softly, pulling each other closer. I felt his lips meet my forehead for a brief moment. Trey ran his fingertips through my hair, slowly and gently.

I hummed, reveling in the feeling. My body melted next to him, my eyes falling closed and my breathing starting to deepen.

I thought about waking up next to him in the morning. It was convenient that I was off tomorrow; maybe Trey planned that out on purpose.

“Are you asleep?” Trey asked softly.

I slowly opened my eyes. “Almost,” I hummed, grinning.

“Okay,” he laughed. “Goodnight.”

“Night, dickface,” I whispered. “I love you.”

Trey giggled. “I love you too.”

A pause.

“Shithead,” he added.

We both started laughing softly. “We’re twelve,” I sighed, closing my eyes again.

[iggysolosgoku]

Hi! How are you?

Can I please request the league if evil exes (separate please) x female reader who is deaf and struggles talking cause of it?

Like if someone was getting up in the readers business or maybe making fun of them, like how would they react?

Thank you :)

Hi! Im good thanks for asking! I hope you're doing great! This is my first Scott pilgrim thing I have ever written so it's not gonna be that good so sorry if it's not what you imagined. I haven't written fanfiction or one shots in a while so that's another thing so sorry if it's not good. And sorry the characters are a little ooc

Trigger warnings: Someone being burnt (Mathew), makeup fun of deaf people (all of them) , random guy hitting on you (Gideon, the twins and Roxy), and mention of slicing someone (Roxy). Mentions of hunting down family members and doxing (Gideon) I do not recommend doing these actions

Mathew Patel

Being deaf isn't that easy and not being able to because of it isn't easy either. The only person who hasn't ever teased me or made fun of me for it is my boyfriend Mathew (or best friend if you wanted that).

If someone bullied me he was always there. Like this one instance that happened a month ago that happened something like this.

*Flashback to a month ago*

"Hey! HEY!" someone tried to say to me. "Helloo?" They tried to say again but I didn't answer.

They then tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at them and they looked angry. "I've been trying to get your attention for a minute. Are you deaf or something?" My boyfriend (or best friend) Mathew then came up and said "Yes she is and she doesn't want to be bothered." "Wow she is!? Some kind of freak you are!"

Mathew then brought out his demon hipster chicks and they then burnt the person bullying me into a crisp.

He then turned to me and asked in sign language "Are you okay?" I then nodded and said in sign language "Yes, thank you."

Lucas Lee

I was currently waiting for my boyfriend (or best friend) Lucas to wrap up filming a scene for his new movie and then someone came up to me and said "Hey, you waiting for someone?" I didn't reply. The person got really mad and tapped me hard on the shoulder.

"Hey I was talking to you. Are you deaf or something?" Lucas then came up to the person and said "yes she is and she can't talk either. She would also like for you to stop bothering her." He said.

"I didn't expect someone like you to date a freak like her Mr. Lee." "She is not a freak she is a person that is beautiful the way she is and she is amazing. Now go now." Lucas said.

"Y-yes Mr. Lee!" Then the person ran away. Lucas then turned to me and asked in sign language "Did he bother you?"

"Yes thank you." I replied back in sign language.

Todd ingram

I am currently waiting backstage for my boyfriend (or best friend) Todd to finish his show with his band.

"Hey, do you have a pass?" Someone I asked but I didn't answer. "Hey! I asked you a question." "Yes she does have a pass and she's deaf and can't hear you." My boyfriend (or best friend) said.

"Wow she's deaf!? What a freakazoid." Todd then used his vegan powers to levitate the guy bullying me and threw him.

"Are you okay?" Todd asked in sign language. "Yeah" I replied back in sign language.

Roxy Richter

I'm currently waiting for my girlfriend (or best friend) Roxy to get back with our food order when suddenly a guy came up to me.

"Hey cutie, you come here often?" He asked but i didn't answer. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" He said again.

"Hey! Stop bothering her!" Roxy tells the guy. "Who are you? Her girlfriend?" He asked. "Maybe! Also she's deaf so she can't hear you!" Roxy says

"She's deaf!? Wow what a freak and a loser.". Roxy then pulls out her swords "if you don't leave her alone I won't hesitate to slice you into bits." She says to the guy.

"Jeez, okay." The guy says then leaves. "You okay?" Roxy asks me in sign language. "Yeah thank you for dealing with him." I reply back to her in sign language.

Katayangi twins

Me and my friends Kyle and Ken are currently at a restaurant. Kyle and Ken are getting the food while I was just waiting.

Someone then comes up to me and says "Hey my friend over there thinks you're cute."

I didn't answer. "Hey I'm talking to you. You deaf or something." They said.

"She is deaf and she also can't speak. She would also appreciate it if you stopped bothering her." Kyle said.

Ken then came up and said with a glare "if you don't we will take it into our own hands."

"okay fine jeez. I don't know why you would defend a freak like her." Kyle then punches the guy talking to me and Ken took me.

"are you okay?" Ken asked in sign language. I then nod.

Gideon Graves

Im currently waiting for my boyfriend (or best friend) Gideon to come back with our food when a guy comes up to me and taps my shoulder.

I look up at him and he asks "hey you come here often?"I look at him confused. "Hey you deaf or something?" "Yes she is and now leave her alone" Gideon says.

"yeah? What are you gonna do if I don't?" The guy asks.

"I will track down all of your family members and find out everything about you and expose it." Gideon says

The guy then gets scared and runs away. "Works every time." He then asks in sign language "are you okay?" "Yeah I'm fine" I reply back in sign language.

Thank you so much for requesting and sorry if it is not really good.

[burgerhell]

WELCOME TO

BURGER HELL

RULES OR WHATEVER

• Don’t be a FUCKING FREAK (aka no proship requests or anything like that)

• This place is (mostly) SAFE FOR WORK. Don’t be Nasty unless it’s only a Little Nasty (suggestive) because we’re 17

• We’re a system and we’re writing about headmates sometimes so keep that in mind, they’re seein this stuff brother

WHAT WE WRITE ABOUT (look under read more for who specifically)

• Bigtop Burger

• Half Life

• Madness Combat

• TF2

• EMH

• The Amazing Digital Circus

My wife is also a big help with stuff I write!! We literally write Everything together his blog is @yanderefantasies LOOKIE HIS STUFF NOW.

Also check read more for Boundaries. Please and Thankies from McSpankies

FOR BIGTOP

• Everyone except Penny’s kid. Obviously.

FOR HALF LIFE

• Gordon Freeman

• Barney Calhoun

• Adrian Shepherd

• Vortigaunts lol

FOR MADNESS COMBAT

• Hank

• Sanford

• Deimos

• Doc/2BDamned

• Jeb

• Tricky

• Auditor

FOR TF2

• Scout

• Pyro

• … maybe others. NEVER SPY.

FOR EMH

• Jeff

• Evan

• NO ONE ELSE ESPECIALLY NOT HABIT

TADC

• Jax x Pomni

• Jax x Caine

• Jax x Kinger

BOUNDARIES.

Again we’re 17. Don’t be a FREAKAZOID. We’re alright with writing most ships, they don’t really make us uncomfortable. But we’ll say something if they do. Also we will very rarely do canon x reader but if we do the readers gonna be masc, probably transmasc or non-binary. Sorry feminine ppl.

[rippersz]

(All fanfics written for them would be ‘x reader’ or an OC) - Rip x

[the-fiction-witch]

Seventeen P9-11

Media The Maze Runner AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Seventeen Series

I had been pretty sheepish all day just trying to keep my head down maybe they forgot about me, Once the bell rang luckily I had model UN so I scampered there before I could get in trouble and sat in my UK-labeled chair. 

"Okay, good afternoon everyone now before we move onto the current affairs of the day does anyone have any new business they would like to bring up?" Alby asks 

Several hands raised 

"Uhh okay, Yes Brazil?" 

"Viva a revolcao!" she yelled and I glanced over 

Brenda Young, the school activist and art freak never seen without paint on her hands and a soap box about something, I never paid her that much attention honestly just sort of saw her as a positive Karen I suppose, then again last year she did force the cafeteria to start at least stocking a vegan and vegetarian option for people thought four weeks of violent protests. they still haven't fixed the window and it still kinda of smells like chum around it.

she stood from her chair her hair cut short with a bright blue streak, her black clothes of net and leather a hand-drawn tattoo on her arm made of Sharpie, 

"Brenda, I've told you before if you're not going to do this properly you can leave" Alby sighed "You can't call a revolution,"

"Fine" she pouted sitting back down 

"Anyone else, Yes Eygpt" He says and she gets up from her seat 

Harriet Toll, a fashion student and a sketchbook kept under lock and key, always wore the most up-to-date fashion trends and made the most of it as well. She didn't exactly like being here but the textiles room is closed on Thursdays and she doesn't get picked up till six so it's something to do other than sitting outside on the step. 

"I know that this model UN is small and we are missing various countries but I cannot help but feel offended at the selection of countries" She explained 

"I second that!" Brenda yelled, "The white boys are the rich countries and the rest of us are the countries with populations with the majority people of colour!" 

"It feels -" Harriet began

"Racists!" 

"Wouldn't you agree South Africa?" 

"Humm? What's going on?" Fry yawns as he had basically been asleep since we got in here 

"Calm down, calm down everyone, The assigned counties are assigned randomly," Alby says

"Randomly?" Harriet glared

"Completely randomly so sit down" 

"Fine" she sighed sitting down again 

"Anyone else" he sighed "Yes Denmark" 

"What's up with the UK?" Zart asked as he clearly noticed me and the fact I'd barely spoken to him or anyone else today 

"Is brexit making you sad?" Brenda laughed 

"No" I sighed "I'm just a bit out that's all"

"Alright, now on to new business" 

I left after the model UN was over starting to make my way out to go home when I saw three of those blue and white letterman jackets

"I don't like waiting, Newton" Ben yelled

"Fuck!" I complained trying to bolt as quickly as I could away but they caught up fast and threw me against the wall punching and kicking me

"The hell do you think you're doing nerd! You dare actually talk to a cheerleader? It would be funny if you weren't so fucking stupid!" He laughs "You are not to talk to her again, don't even look at her, not even think about her again, or I will cut your balls off and mount them on the flag pole, we clear Newton?"

"I can talk to whoever I damn want!"

"You wanna die! Let me explain something to you y/n is a cheerleader with a fat ass and tits that porn stars pay for, you are a scholastic decathlon, model UN, chess team little freakazoid. Now you will not do it again, are we clear!"

"Hey!" A voice came I could barely see as I likely had a black eye but I saw

Gally Anderson, cohead of the debate team, used to be the muscles of metal shop and woodshop until the school district cut the funding those rooms were gutted of equipment and turned into extra maths rooms and now were often stuck in the back of the art club making small wooden building sculptures while people like Brenda engaged in utter anarchy we used to be friendly but you drift Apart and all

"What's it to you? Art boy?"

"Leave the fuck alone before I knock those teeth down your throat, and we all know daddy paid to get them all nice and touched up for ya which you haven't paid off yet so unless you wanna root around your shit for those pearly fucks. Walk away"

"I'm -"

"I know what you're doing, everyone heard but she aint your girlfreind as I recall she Dumped your ass so fuck off home"

"Come on guys" he says heading to his car "I'm watching you newton!"

"You okay?" Gally asks helping me up and grabbing my stuff for me

"I think I'm dieing"

"Yeah he socked you pretty hard, we'll grab you some ice, come on I'll drop you home"

"Thanks man"

"No problem" he says taking me to his car and we stopped and he got me some ice for my eye and a bandage for my bleeding arm "I know what you did"

"Everyone knows apparently"

"I don't blame you, cheer girls are gorgeous, don't sweat it he'd have kicked your ass for being rude if you hadn't spoken to her"

"I don't get what his problem is"

"Dudes been butt hurt since she dumped him, still protective of her, he thinks because they used to date he owns her. Don't let it get to you" he says pulling up outside my house "You gonna be okay?"

"I think so, thanks gally"

"Don't worry about it, see you around"

"See you around" I nodded before climbing out and heading inside immediately to be met by

"Oh my god my baby!" She screams

"Mum I'm alright -"

"What the hell happened!" My dad yelled

"It's a long story"

Understandably my mother went crazy and I'd been sitting in the kitchen for over an hour while my parents paced and panicked, having replaced my ice and bandaged my cuts and bruises. when they finally let me go back to my room, so I headed to my bed Luckily I didn't have any homework or anything so I just crawled into bed and tried my best to get some god damn sleep. 

When my alarm went off I forced myself up and quickly went for a shower Sonya was about to go in but she stopped short as she saw me

"What the hell happened to you?" she asks 

"Don't. Say. anything." I warned her to go in the bathroom and lock the door tightly I put my music on as loud as possible ran myself a bath and climbed in trying to soothe my aching body, I took as long as I wanted in the bath, once done I went back to my room and got dressed for the day shoving my stuff in my bag even if It stung to add my bag to my shoulder and I headed downstairs to my mum and dad "Morning"

"Morning Kiddo, sit down and take your time with breakfast I'm taking you in today," he says 

"You are?"

"Yeah, I want a word with the headmaster" 

"Uhh okay" I nodded sitting down and my mum gave me as many strawberries, waffles, and french toast as I wanted "I'm happy to take the bus Dad"

"No, no. I want a word with him. phone doesn't do the same as turning up so If I'm going then I might as well take you" 

"Why do I have to take the bus and he gets a ride to school!" Sonya yelled as she arrived downstairs 

"And where were you while your brother was being beaten up like a 1930s gangster?'

"...at the movies with my friends"

"So you'll be taking the bus"

"Uuughhhh!' She yelled marching off outside

"You can take her too it's okay," I said

"You really should -" my mother began

"No, for once I'm not Bowing to that girl," he says finishing his breakfast he took my bag and we headed out to the car We started up and headed through the rainy streets he stopped for coffee of course and he even got me a few hash browns.

"So? Lead the way," he says I nodded and got out of the car he still carried my stuff for me as we headed into the still pretty empty school as the busses hadn't arrived yet I led him through the corridors to the headmaster's office but she wasn't here yet so we just sat outside. "You wanna tell me what this was all over so I have a little backing info?"

"I figured Sonya told you"

"She did but you know how your sister exaggerates."

"I was working, and the cheerleaders came in"

"All of them?'

"I think so, looked like all of them I don't exactly count them everywhere they go, Dad"

"Hu...I did"

"Did you?"

'When I was your age yeah, so?"

"So one of the cheer girls needed a hand with the slushie machine the cherry one always gets stuck so I pulled it for her we talked just casually while I did and told her I'd cover it. But clearly, people found out. I've been getting the cold shoulder from people all day because of it"

"Why? You did something nice for her?"

"Yeah, but she's a cheerleader. I'm...me. I can't talk to them it's like an unspoken law. So one of the track guys beat me up to teach me a lesson"

"And?"

"and lesson learned. I won't talk to her again" I sighed

"What's her name?"

"What does it matter They'll kill me if I ever even look at her again"

"Well tell me anyway"

"...y/n"

"Y/n. Cheerleader?"

"Yeah"

"Pretty?"

"Gorgeous,"

"Blonde?"

"Y/h/c usually with a little blue bow"

"Athletic?"

"As much as any cheerleader but... she's 'bottom of the pyramid"

"Oh, so she's got the hips and the thighs?' He suggested making a gesture with his hands and I nodded "I take it you have her the free slushie because you like her"

"Kinda, but what does it matter Ben will kill me if I look at her again. Not like I had a cat in hell's chance anyway'

"Why not? You're the most handsome boy in the world your mother tells you all the time"

"Dad. I'm me. I'm a nerd. I am as low as you can get on the totem pole except maybe Chuckie, the cheer team is at the top of the totem pole. I was being stupid"

"Hey, don't think like that, look Isaac. This stuff isn't some totem pole carved in stone or wood forever to be that way. It's more like... an elevator."

"An elevator?"

"Yes, an elevator. You might not see it but people are constantly moving up and down the levels Yes those at the top often don't think about the bottom and the bottom struggle to even imagine ever being at the top but no one stays in those places forever and believe me when you get out of here none of it would have mattered and you'll realize there never was an elevator you were all just living on the same floor convinced you had it better or worse when everyone else" he says "you know I was a pretty big nerd when I was your age Didn't stop me getting a firecracker like your mother. I was on the chess team, algebra club, top science student two years running and your mother was a flag girl"

"No offence but stuff is different nowadays it's not like them You were my age things have changed"

"...how old do you think I am?" He glared

"Well, I'm seventeen?"

"Yeah and I'm thirty-four," he says "AHH Miss Ava Paige just the woman I've been needing to see"

"Mr Newton of course step into my office," she says

I was kind of taken aback by what he said for a moment before I followed them into the office.

[neodracunyan]

"Uninvited Guests" 1945/1978 Blood-Shot Parker V.S. Tom and Jerry

This fan made fnf concept is based on the Tom and Jerry creepypasta FNF Mod, "Tom's Basement Show" for my x Male reader story based on the Mod itself.

In this concept, where the original Tom and Jerry were working together on cleaning the whole entire basement that Basement Jerry had hid the dead bodies of his victims in until a couple of "uninvited guests" by the names of 1945/1978 Blood-Shot Parker as they are looking for Y/n that lives in this home but was currently doing some errands with Michael Theodore and Oscar Reynolds aka Freakazoid Mouse and Weirdo Rabbit.

So Tom and Jerry worked together to defeat these two serial killers to keep them away from getting to Y/n if any means necessary.

[blorbo-hellspace]

Fav genre of freakazoid fujoshi is one's that write x readers for yari b club. Ma'am these r gay men in an all boys school that is the plot of the show gd. Stop putting this on my dash.