#god they needed adult supervision

[marshroom580]

What if I just gatekept one of my favorite characters bc ppl cannot stop FUCKING INFANTILIZING HER AAAAAAAAAAA

[astonmartinii]

the age of no regret [mamma mia part four] | formula one scoial media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, jenson button & fernando alonso part one | part two | part three masterlist | tips

a due date nears, a god father is revealed and new cravings are discovered

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,209,851 others

tagged: jensonbutton

yourusername: f1 drivers are too generous, i don't know how we got all of the stuff back from montreal let alone how we're going to store it.

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user1: i'm NOT jealous of an unborn child's helmet collection

user2: this bro got a senna helmet, can i have it until they know who he is?

sebastianvettel: i'm seeing a 'we' in this caption when it was me, myself and i putting together this display case

yourusername: erm i was supervising?

sebastianvettel: that was more aimed at jenson, love. i wouldn't want you anywhere near a glass display case right now

jensonbutton: one day it's "i'm the wood work king, let me do this" and then it's "why did no one help me?" PICK A STRUGGLE SEB

sebastianvettel: well i was waiting for you to take all the credit ... so this is awkward now

jensonbutton: well i'll take the credit for getting most of the helmets

charles_leclerc: ummmm no i gave seb at least two of these

jensonbutton: @sebastianvettel tell your grid kid to back off this is adult conversation

charles_leclerc: i'm 25?

fernandoalo_oficial: beckett better be sleeping in his dog bed because i am not fighting a dog for my space in the bed

jensonbutton: of course he is !!!!!!!!!

yourusername: the exclamation marks are really making you look guilty

jensonbutton: IT'S NOT JUST ME YOU GUYS BRING HIM TO BED AS WELL

yourusername: i have hormones i see one puppy dog look AND I CAN'T LEAVE HIM THERE

fernandoalo_oficial: if i have to fight the dog, you guys have to let me sleep in the middle

yourusername: fine. beckett sleeps at the foot of the bed anyway you just want to be in the middle of the cuddle pile

fernandoalo_oficial: sue me

user3: cuddle pile? i'm so soft

user4: beckett? who named this dog and why was it definitely jenson?

yourusername: it was but i was assured it has nothing to do with f1

user4: babes i hate to tell you but he's defo named after the corner at silverstone

yourusername: how am i so easy to trick ffs

sebastianvettel

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,093,455 others

tagged: yourusername

sebastianvettel: crochet club in full swing for zandvoort. good luck nando!!

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user5: they really are old people at heart it's so cute

maxverstappen1: can i get a good luck for my home race?

sebastianvettel: good luck?

yourusername: good luck super max! (not that you need it)

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n i knew there was a reason why you're my favourite :)

charles_leclerc: can i get a good luck too please?

sebastianvettel: you weren't this clingy even when we were teammates

yourusername: seb !! be kind, good luck charlie

landonorris: can i also get a good luck?

yourusername: good luck lando (stop being so hard on yourself)

sebastianvettel: is everyone gonna ask for a good luck?

yourusername: how many more grid kids do you have? i feel like you underestimated the number on your cv

jensonbutton: how is my jumper coming along?

sebastianvettel: we're both working on a sleeve right now!

yourusername: sorry if one is shorter than the other i can't stop going to the bathroom

fernandoalo_oficial: thank you guys, can't wait to see you when i get home x

jensonbutton: looking fast this weekend, podium defo on the cards

yourusername: be fast but be safe x

sebastianvettel: looking forward to a new celebration

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 702,340 others

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial: getting attachment issues already @f1 can we just race in switzerland from now on?

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user8: they do group facetimes while nando is away?!?!?!?!?! shoot me.

yourusername: i second this @f1

jensonbutton: i third it

sebastianvettel: i fourth it

fernandoalo_oficial: i miss you guys :(

user9: i'm so excited/nervous about the naming situation i know these men will just have stupid suggestions

yourusername: we compromised with a name book i do not trust them after beckett

jensonbutton: beckett is a cute name and you agreed!!!!!

mickschumacher: do you guys need the extra camp beds or not?

sebastianvettel: yes please! could you bring them when you get back?

charles_leclerc: we're sleeping on camp beds? does my back mean nothing to you?

fernandoalo_oficial: do we look like a hotel to you?

yourusername: there are beds but it's first come first served, so don't be late xoxo

user10: are the grid going to stay at seb's?

user11: might be for a baby shower?

user12: HOLY SHIT

maxverstappen1: am i allowed to bring the cats? is beckett trained?

yourusername: omg yes please bring jimmy and sassy

jensonbutton: yes he's trained what do you think i've been doing with my retirement?

maxverstappen1: no comment

sebastianvettel: i guess you can bagsy a room for you and the cats

maxverstappen1: HA thank you seb

fernandoalo_oficial: more and more i realise why people call you my grid kid

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,340,566 others

yourusername: who knew i'd end up with a family this big? i love you all.

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user13: i am unwell this is so fucking cute

sebastianvettel: i love our weird little family

yourusername: little? we hosted like 25 grown men ...

jensonbutton: and you loved every single second

yourusername: yeah i love you guys and all your little stray cats with attachment issues

fernanodalo_oficial: yeah but that means they also give good gifts

user14: wait? 25? who else do we think went?

user15: so mick was definitely there, i think i saw mark in the back of one pic, kimi was there along with nico rosberg (LOL) and i think rubens barrichello

user16: no way first out of paddock brocedes reunion was at the mamma mia baby shower...

jensonbutton: those people are meant to be athletes how come there were NO CUPCAKES LEFT I KNOW THAT'S NOT IN YOUR DIETS

maxverstappen1: idk i feel like you're projecting

charles_leclerc: yeah you sound mad guilty jenson

yourusername: now i can see the grid kid resemblance

sebastianvettel: i will not take any responsibility for their shenanigans

fernandoalo_oficial: i do

danielricciardo: soz i finally got that brocedes scoop over a late night cupcake

yourusername: i won't be angry if you spill to me

lewishamilton: daniel?

fernandoalo_oficial: this is why you're my favourite daniel

user17: i need them to SPILL NOW

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, yourusername and 702,334 others

tagged: kimiraikkonen

jensonbutton: it's official!! after careful consideration, we decided that kimi was the best choice for god father, but we still consider you all a weird mix of god uncles and god everything else. y/n is due any day now so we'll see you all some time soon x

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user18: LETS GOOOOOO I WAS ALWAYS TEAM KIMI THAT'S MY GOAT 🐐

maxverstappen1: rigged

yourusername: maxy if it helps seb was seriously stumped after the baby beekeeping suit

maxverstappen1: doesn't help but i guess it's healthy to take a loss every now and again

danielricciardo: i. am. shocked.

sebastianvettel: you insulted all of us in your application

danielricciardo: ummmmm yes to prove to chickie that i'm a fun, goofy guy DUH

jensonbutton: we are NOT boring farts

danielricciardo: depriving your child of a fun god father is a boring fart move

kimiraikkonen: i am fun daniel.

charles_leclerc: i may have lost god father but i won being a bear, you win some you lose some

lewishamilton: you're being much more gracious than expected

charles_leclerc: oh i screamed into my pillow when i got this notification (and max also lost)

fernandoalo_oficial: you're taking it well lewis

lewishamilton: I KNOW YOU VOTED AGAINST ME FERNANDO BUT JOKES ON YOU I SEE THE HAMILTON BEAR YOU FRAUD

yourusername: there were no votes against people... also roscoe is not a reference we can actually verify i don't think dogs can speak english (or german, spanish or italian)

lewishamilton: he can skateboard? how am i not a good dad?

fernandoalo_oficial: see this aggression is why you aren't god father

lewishamilton: i'm letting roscoe at your ankles old man

sebastianvettel: OKAY LETS STOP THERE

markwebber: who got kimi jack daniels? that's a bold (and uniformed)choice

yourusername: it's the aesthetic mark, i don't like your tone

jensonbutton: kimi will drink anything don't worry love

markwebber: all i said was it is an interesting choice

yourusername: this is why you got destroyed by a twink btw

jensonbutton: well this all escalated fast

astonmartinf1

liked by lancestroll, estebanocon and 1,094,561 others

astonmartinf1: fernando alonso will not be racing this weekend due to family matters. felipe drugovich will race in the second aston martin seat. we wish y/n, fernando, jenson and seb luck for their new addition.

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user21: EVERYONE STAY FUCKING CALM

user22: i am so so so so so so so so so chill about this

lancestroll: good luck y/n! can't wait to meet the little one

user23: god i miss the squabbles in the comment sections

user24: literally and i can imagine it's going to increase ten fold when they all have an actual kid to fight over

charles_leclerc: why does it have to be a race so far from europe :(((( i wanna meet chickie ASAP

maxverstappen1: don't make me race your ass to the hospital

charles_leclerc: we can use air max this once seb won't know

danielricciardo: 📸 GOT YOUR ASS

charles_leclerc: daniel???

danielricciardo: 'm sorrry i'm stressed

user23: okay that didn't take long

user25: i need a lobotomy asap cause why am i so excited about four complete strangers having a baby

user26: I AM SO NERVOUS ABOUT THE NAME IF THIS CHILD IS NAMED AFTER A RACE, DRIVER OR A CORNER I WILL ACTUALLY LOSE MY MIND

user27: seb will never see the light of day if that child ends up with a bond girl name

lewishamilton: good luck guys !!! can't wait to meet the full family

user28: completely normal that the whole family is not online during potential labour but I NEED UPDATES

user29: okay put your bets on guys - which one of them is passing out

user30: jenson 100%

user31: idk i think seb has been way too chill this entire pregnancy and it's all going to come out during the birth

danielricciardo: yeah seb's ass is grass

maxverstappen1: DANIEL STOP (it's gonna be jenson)

danielricciardo: i'm sorry i'm so stressed i'm literally going to bite off my fingers

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,402,455 others

f1: with y/n's due date this week, we send our love and well wishes to the alonso-vettel-button family and can't wait to meet the new addition (and soon to be champion) 🏎️

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user32: it's just dawning on me that this kid might need a jumbo birth certificate with all these last names

user33: is anyone curious if they'll ever do a paternity test to see who the biological dad is

user34: let's not ask horribly personal questions about situations that are nothing to do with us

user35: also the kid is going to have four loving parents and about 25 grown men who will fight for them so i really don't think who the biological father is is really a big deal

estebanocon: gosh i am so excited

user36: as much as i am excited i hope it won't become a whole family influencer type beat

user37: i don't think they will tbf, i think they'll post about chickie but it'll be reserved

georgerussell63: so excited for the guys! they'll all rock as parents and y/n has already put up with them so will be an amazing mother

alexalbon: good luck guys, all of our love x

user38: f1 cruel as hell for putting this race all the way qatar so that there's no way they can go back to europe between races :(

charles_leclerc: real, depriving us from meeting chickie asap

user39: do we think kimi went with them?

user40: and maybe mick? he's not with mercedes this weekend?

mickschumacher: kimi and i are with them! not allowed in the delivery room when chickie comes but we're here for moral support <3

user41: oh i am so soft

lewishamilton: i guess it makes sense kimi is the god father... good luck guys!

note: OKAY PEOPLE THAT'S PART FOUR HOLY MOLY i am hashtag stumped on a baby name and the sex IDK ANY OF IT but this was FUN! hopefully yall enjoy and hopefully i tagged everyone who asked (blame my phone if not) also thanks to @deviltsunoda for listening to me SCREAM about this the whole time i've been writing it xoxo

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih

[radiocrypt-id]

I got- I can't!

Imagine being 15, you've grown up your whole life with this one belief in this one God and you were told you were Chosen by Him, for Him. And you're 15. You believe so fully in the spirit of your religion, not necessarily the word, that you want to go to a non-religious school to try and help other kids maybe find your God because you genuinely believe that could be helpful to some of them, because it's all you know, and it's helped other strangers (human trafficking victims she helped in the black pit before) so why not other kids her age? You're 15 and all you can think about is helping others. And you start thinking about your religion, and reading books, and asking questions and you come to the conclusion that maybe your God and His Father aren't actually all that great. Maybe the church you're in has done some really bad things that you can't possibly make up for. Maybe that church is still doing bad things. And then you find out your family is actually in a cult for that God, not just part of the normal church, and you suddenly have to undo all the cult shit in your brain you were raised with, while that cult stuff you know about is actually useful to your friends, like having that knowledge is helpful for them! You're 15 and you stop going home. You have no real adult supervision or carer, just your other 15 year old friends.

Imagine you're 16, you're gay and figuring that out on top of navigating your first full romantic relationship and being the sole creator and cleric to a new God that you honestly find to be very two dimensional and empty. You're on a quest to find an evil being and stop them. You nearly die. Your friends nearly die. You're 16. You're 16 and feel something calling out to you, you know it's divine because you've felt that sort of pull before, but you've never felt one like this. You find memories and hints and pieces and you figure out that the evil being you have to stop, isn't evil, she's just hurting. She's hurt and She's a God. She's your God, and she's so happy to see you, and she has so many ideas, and so many hopes.

You're 17. You've spent your rest time (summer vacation) tearing across the world chasing down and defeating another evil thing that you and your friends accidentally released in the first place. Your God is with you, you have no time for Her. No time for anything but trying to survive and stay sane. You know She's disappointed in you, but you're one person -ONE PERSON- and you're 17. You missed your birthday. again. You've saved the world; again. You're so fucking tired -like always. You're Chosen, and alone, and have no idea what to do with your life, let alone your God. You aren't very good at school, but you go to every class. You're drowning as you try to rewrite your understanding of the world from what you grew up with, having no idea how to do anything without a book and godly hand to guide you. You only ever followed before, your new God is demanding you Lead. You don't know how. You're only 17. You see your horrible, abusive parents spitting abuse and racist rhetoric at your baby brother, who you haven't seen in two years, on the front steps to your school and for the first time ever you are filled with righteous fury. Your God answers your call, not knowing what you need but so eager to help, eager for your attention, she starts talking to you but you're busy -why can't she understand that you're fucking busy? trying to not die, trying to be safe, trying to keep your friends alive, trying to navigate a world that hates you, you're 17 and you're busy goddammit just wait!- and she snaps back at you and flees. The next time you see Her, maybe an hour later, She's got a creature with Her that nearly destroyed you and your friends last year sitting in her lap, so smug to see you again.

You're 17- no, 16- no, 15 years old and you're expected to build and carry the world on your shoulders, Chosen from birth, raised a lamb to follow a Shepard, not to be followed behind. You have no one and nothing and everyone expects everything and you can't back up, you can't pause because if you do someone dies and doesn't come back. You have to be a hero, a chosen, a saint. The steps behind you crumble to dust with each step you take forward and the new one is already cracking under your weight. There are only wrong choices. There's no hand reaching for you. God, you were taught, will save and guide you. God knows best. Why is your God looking to you, a mortal human, to be saved, raised and guided? You're a child.

You're just a child.

You just want to go home, wherever that is. You thought it was your God, but She's not exactly helping you out either, is She? She's just disappointed. Like everyone else. Like you.

You're 17. You think it would have been better to never do any of this. It would have been easier to stay, blind and naive. Sometimes you think you should have stayed in heaven. Sometimes you think about the God you killed by not being good enough for it. Sometimes you lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and pretend you don't exist for awhile. Sometimes you work your body so hard you forget it's there and your mind shuts up and you exist without being you. Sometimes you wish you never asked any questions or read any books. You're 17, but sometimes you wish you were 15, with no idea yet.

You're 17. You wish you were good enough.

[doppel-doodles]

Turns out I actually have so many ideas for grown up Timmy Oml-

No doodles of the ideas yet I am just trying to get out the brainworms and thoughts, if I actually have something I’ll make a part two for this-

In the meantime have a regular Timmy doodle and for those interested some ramblings below:

Concept 1

Comic artist

Timmy always read to me as a really creative kid with a very rich imagination not to mention his love for comics like the crimson chin.

Also be for real, cleft the boy chin wonder was basically baby’s first self insert oc.

So I really like the idea of a future where Timmy got to make his own comics, maybe he works on a reboot of the crimson chin comics orrrrr he is retelling his own childhood adventures from when he had fairies without ever considering that it wasn’t just his imagination but reality.

Heck maybe making a crimson chin fan comic is what’s jumpstarted his career so that later he gained opportunities and made his own series?

Also in this idea I can say proudly: “bro is just like me fr fr.”/j

Like any artist and writer he suffers creatively twice.

He is a chronic procrastinator and there are two reasons he is able to keep any of his deadlines:

They are called coffee and redbull.

He has passion, he has fun but god damn his work ethic is just about the worst example he could give his kids which is exactly why he doesn’t LIKE letting them see him work.

He is unorganised and constantly suffering from art block,writers block- bro is basically just in a creative burn out 24/7.

In a new fish he could maybe pop in via holding a meet and greet, signing copy of his works and the likes. Hazel and or dev could be fans of his work and thus shenanigans happen.

Concept 2

Child care

Okay this one comes with a bit of backstory: Basically once Timmy got old enough he actually started his own babysitting service, perhaps even together with his friends.

The main reason was of course Vicky.

He could steal away her jobs so she couldn’t traumatise more children by being so,SO icky.

But that’s when he also learned he kinda really liked looking after those little rascals.

Especially babies and toddlers, something about them just set off this warm and fuzzy feeling of familiarity within him.

So as a grown up he would make looking after them his whole career, I haven’t really settled in what way though.

He could be like a nanny for hire, or maybe even a daycare attendant running his own place.

I like to think there are a few moments where he would subconsciously act kinda like Wanda and or Cosmo while looking after these kids but with his own spin of course.

He is pretty witty and was a well known troublemaker in his youth so he knows just about every trick a kid can pull and isn’t opposed by teaching them a lesson by making their schemes backfire horribly.

No harm done except for a temporary wound on the child’s pride perhaps. But then again he is so fun during playtime how can any kid stay mad?

And if he is a nanny for hire: who knows maybe Dev is in need of supervision sometime soon?:>

Sub concept

Child counsellor

Kinda similar to the backstory of the previous idea simply this time Timmy decided to focus on kids who may be a little more troubled due to outside factors like he was.

Because he can SWEAR that back then there was someone who was there for him in a similar he now is for these kids and even if he can’t remember it anymore.

You can bet that there is nothing stopping him from being a safe adult for them to come to.

Concept 3

Fairy

Probably one of the most popular I’ve seen and I gotta be honest it’s a lot of fun to think about, but because so many ideas were already out there I did have a hard time coming up with something that wasn’t just a repeat of someone elses idea’s.

But I think in the end what I settled on is a fun concept:

Remember that episode where we see that unwished wishes get put into a kinda storage unit? And how Timmy made so many wishes his locker was basically about to burst?

I think it would be pretty fun if his duty as a fairy would be to basically reorganise these kinds of lockers and instead of storing wishes somewhere else Timmy has to find a use for them somewhere else.

It’s also kinda funny because I imagine Jorgan did kinda intend this to be a “Got’cha!” Moment, as let’s be real most of these wishes WERE HIS.

But jokes on him Timmy actually likes this job-

[dollywheeler]

October 24th, 1996

Mike is such a DOUCHEBAG! What? Just because he’s back in town he thinks he can dictate how I live my fucking life?! I knew this would happen! Knew he would just go back to looking at me like the goddamn 5 year old he couldn't give a damn about! That was nothing but a nuisance!

As if I can’t take care of myself! God, if he thinks I give a shit about his opinion he’s going to be sorely disappointed! Sure, not jumping four feet in the air and possibly breaking my neck at seven in the morning where no one will find me for at least another hour, made sense. That I can place and admit to being dangerous! But just running? What? I’m so fragile I might twist my ankle?

Fuck, and the way he yelled at me? Like I’m some dumb child that should know better?? I do know better! Which is why I always leave a note with my exact route and expected time of return - not even because I think anything might happen, but because I have common human decency and don’t want mom to worry when she wakes up to find me gone! Something he could’t give a rat’s ass about!!

Seriously, it’s so fucking rich that he thinks he has the right to scold me about running around Hawkins - Hawkins of all places, as if there are more boring towns than this! - in the dark without adult supervision! I’m so mad it’s insane. I don’t think I’ve ever been this pissed off before, it’s genuinely quite impressive.

To think that an hour ago I was so content to wake up early and go for a run before school. I was in such a good mood too - he ruined it.

He just doesn’t understand! I already can’t practice my routine - not the full, difficult parts of it - so the least I can do is work on my cardio and stamina! But when I tell him that he’s all like “just ask a friend to come along next time!” And I try to tell him that’s not an option but he just - ugh. He doesn’t get it. There’s no point in practicing extra when everyone knows you’re doing it. It will just make everyone think I’m being a try-hard or a suck-up or whatever! Or just think I’m being weird for needing the extra practice!

Great, now I’m crying again because I'm pathetic! Fucking Mike. Fuck this shit.

Okay, so I didn’t actually finish this entry, for many reasons. I didn’t even start it properly - not that the “dear diary” really matters, I guess, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Anyway, even though it’s been hours, I’m still pissed off, don’t worry, but at least now I have the time and state of mind to finish. I’m skipping English as I’m writing this down - I know it’s terrible for a lot of reasons.

1, my school record, but what is Mike going to do? Report me? Fuck that. And fuck him.

2, It’s letting him win. I recognise that. But I guess I’m weak because I really can’t deal with seeing him right now. God I hate him.

3, Danny is probably wondering where I am, which means I’ll have to tell him what happened.

Damn - maybe I didn’t think this through. I can probably spin it - say I wasn’t feeling well or something. Except I don’t want to lie to him either… Well, it’s not technically a lie. Still, I’ll probably just tell him some part of the truth - he can know I was pissed at Mike. He doesn’t have any siblings but he’ll probably understand anyway.

To think that for a while I considered myself an only child… tragic. I was so fucking close to just having a cool older sister that was too far away to meddle in my life. I was in control of my life - I still am!

Mike just thinks he has a say all of a sudden - which he doesn’t. Two weeks of being civil does not a brother make!

Seriously, it was so disorientating to just be running one minute, thinking nice thoughts, wondering about the english assignment, only for Mr. Wheeler himself to actually see me and come storming out freaking out about me running in the dark! It's Hawkins in October! It's dark all the time!

I was so shocked, I could barely defend myself. God, the neighbours will probably have wondered what the fuck was going on - If our shouting match didn’t wake them I’m sure they’re dead.

The worst part was that I still had to go to school after… I'm sure everyone could tell I was off. Or at least Dylan would have, if she hadn't been a thousand miles away today herself. I'm kind of glad for it. Danny sending me worried glances was more than enough, and just getting to listen to Whitney rattle on about yearbook and today's lunch and whatever else was not living up to her standard was nice. Distracting.

Still, I wish I could just go home already - I want to lie down and mope and pretend like it's still three months ago when Mike was far far away! Then I wouldn't have to deal with his judgement and his meddling and his passive-aggressiveness towards mom and dad. And I could just kiss my boyfriend in school without fearing he might see.

Sadly, I still have cheer practice and I can't skip it. It's already bad enough that Dylan has a brace around her wrist again.

This just reminded me I'm still wearing Mike's bracelet - it really shouldn't make me feel better but it does. It's petty as hell, and he probably doesn't even remember it exists, but whatever.

He should just go back to not remembering me.

- Holly

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: As the mission deadline looks like it will be moved up, Bradley wants to spend as much time with you as possible. But your fears and concerns have you pumping the brakes.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Bradley woke up before his 6:30 alarm went off. For the second night in a row, he slept soundly with you draped across his body. Your hair was all over the place, and you were wearing his black tee shirt from the day before. You were curled up on his chest with your arm draped across his shoulder. This was perfect. He could certainly get used to this. And he hoped you would think about what he said last night. He was serious about you and wanted to be around you as much as possible.

It was early, and he didn't want to wake you yet, but the second he moved his arm, you held him tighter and mumbled, "Let's stay in bed all day."

"That's what Saturdays are for, Sweetheart. Not Tuesdays. It's time to get up."

You just grumbled and started reaching for your glasses. Bradley handed them to you and you popped up in bed, stretching your arms over your head. 

"I don't want to get up," you groaned at him, and he chucked. "Oh, God, are you a morning person? Is that why they call you Rooster?"

"Guilty," Bradley replied as he kissed you softly before climbing out of bed. "Usually I go for a nice, long run early in the morning. But you've been a bit of a distraction."

"Sorry," you mumbled, settling back into the bed alone, head meeting the pillow.

"You're not sorry," he whispered as he kissed your cheek. "I'm going to get a quick shower. I would invite you to join me, but I can barely fit in there alone. And then I'm going to shave."

You jolted up in bed again. "Shave?! You're not allowed to shave off your mustache!"

Bradley laughed at the expression on your face. "I knew that you liked it, but I did not know you loved it."

"I told you I did! That first night at the Hard Deck. I pretty much told you I loved your mustache and your ridiculous shirts. Plus, I own your mustache now, and I did not say you were allowed to shave!"

Bradley leaned down and kissed you. "I'm not going to shave it off, Baby Girl. I'm just going to clean it up and shave everything around it. I didn't get to shave yesterday morning, so this stubble has got to go," he said, rubbing his mustache and stubble all over your face.

You squealed and tried to hide under the blanket, but Bradley pulled it off the bed and scooped you up. You threw your arms around his neck. "Take me in with you, I'm going to supervise."

So Bradley took you into his distressingly small bathroom with him. You took a shower while he shaved, and you continuously peeked out at him to check what he was doing. "Hey, watch that razor. It's getting a little close to the goods," you warned his reflection in the mirror.

Bradley wanted to do this with you every morning. Preferably in a larger bathroom. 

"I'm not going to hurt it, I promise."

"You better not," he heard you grumble as you washed your hair.

He had a hard time finishing his shave, because he was smiling so much. 

After you were all dressed in your head to toe khaki with your hair in a bun, you sat on the edge of his bed and laced up your boots. But as soon as Bradley started to get dressed in his flight suit, your eyes followed his movements. 

"You look ridiculously good in that thing," you told him as he shimmied and zipped up the suit over his broad chest. 

Bradley just laughed and shook his head, "Don't tell me now that you've got a thing for uniforms, Baby Girl. You wear one every day. Everyone you work with wears one too!"

"Maybe I just have a thing for flight suits?" You stood and let your fingers glide to the top of his zipper. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"So you got a thing for the other aviators in their flight suits too?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse as you pulled the zipper all the way back down revealing his black tee and compression shorts.

"Nope. I guess it's just you then. I guess I just have a thing for you, Rooster."

He froze as you pulled the sleeves down his arms and let the suit crumble down his calves and around his boots. You teased him through his shorts, gliding your fingers up and down his hardening length. "If we leave now, we would have enough time to grab breakfast and a coffee in the cafeteria," you told him as you looked up at him with wide innocent eyes.

"Yeah, that's true," he agreed. His cock was starting to twitch in anticipation. "But I don't need breakfast or coffee today. Do you, Baby Girl?"

"No," you replied, dropping down to your knees in front of him and dragging down the waistband of his shorts. 

Bradley groaned loudly as he sprang free, and you took him in both of your hands. You ran your fingers along his length and smiled up at him. Bradley thought he could come just from this, but then your tongue peeked out to taste the tip of him, licking his drop of moisture into your mouth. "Sweetheart," he rasped, bringing his hands up to your cheeks. Your eyes met his as you took some more of his length into your mouth. 

His hands went to the back of your head and into your bun, holding you gently as you took as much of him as you could handle. Your tongue worked along his length as you moved your head back and forth. You sucked, licked and caressed him with your mouth. Then with one smooth movement, you had him in almost to his balls, and he thought he was going to black out. He literally saw stars as you hummed and then pulled him out with a pop.

"Does this feel good?" you asked him, pumping him once in your hand.

"Fuck. You feel amazing," he managed to say before you gently licked and sucked his balls before returning to his dick. 

Bradley loved a good blow job just as much as the next guy, but the longer he lasted, the more you seemed to be getting into it. You were moaning a bit which made him somehow harder. And your hair was a mess now from his fingers, loose strands falling around your beautiful face. You looked like a filthy angel with his cock in your pretty mouth. Every time you made eye contact with him, he thought he was going to come.

Plus, maybe he was the one with a bit of a thing for uniforms, because watching you do this while you were dressed for work... fuck. 

The sloppy wet noises as you bobbed along his length were becoming completely obscene. "This is fucking hot," he gasped, and you pulled him out of your muth then licked his full length from balls to tip. You wrapped your hands around his thighs and took him until you were almost gagging. You bobbed your head slightly, your eyes starting to water, and Bradley knew he was going to come. He gently wrapped his fingers in your hair again and bucked a little bit into you as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on him hard. 

"Fuck!" he cried out, filling your mouth and throat with his cum. You gasped and swallowed it all down. He watched and felt your movements become slower as you licked up every last drop. You swiped the side of your mouth with your thumb, then licked it while smirking up at him. 

Bradley reached down and hauled you up to your feet, eliciting a surprised laugh from you. He walked you backward to his bed. "Let's just stay in bed all day, Sweetheart."

"You told me that wasn't allowed on Tuesdays!"

"I think we should anyway. And now I fully understand why that asshole Kyle is so desperate for you. Holy hell."

"Hey!" you protested, lightly smacking Bradley's chest as he tossed you onto his bed and kissed you. "I never did that with him."

"Careful Baby Girl, or you might make me feel special."

And this is why you both ran into work with just a few seconds to spare. 

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

The week progressed like a dream that occasionally turned into a nightmare. Sure, work was stressful at times, as the mission deadline seemed to be in limbo now. All signs were pointing to a worst case scenario. It looked like raw uranium was going to be delivered to the plant earlier than expected. The aviators were working overtime, trying to perfect their training, and there had even been a few close calls.

You still got to spend your free time with Bradley, but you had no idea how much longer he'd be in San Diego after this mission. The thought was painful, but in the meantime, you shared a bed every night, ate together, and talked about seemingly everything. And, you were having the best sex of your life. There was nothing about this man that turned you off. It was all exactly right.

You were getting the impression that Bradley was ready to put a label on whatever this was, but if he wasn't sure he was going to stick around, what was the point?

And a small voice in your head was certain he would be chosen to fly as one of the Daggers. He was the best, how could he not be picked? It was scary to think about, but he was going to do his job, and you were going to do yours. Because you were the best, too. And all of that was precisely the reason you didn't want to announce to the entirety of Top Gun that you and Bradley were something. What if he got pulled out of the running for the mission because of it? What if you got replaced by someone and assigned elsewhere?

You wouldn't let that happen. Maybe things could be different in the future. Maybe Bradley would get his promotion and stay in San Diego. Maybe then you could offer him more.

On Thursday morning, while you were working in the tower, you heard Bradley blow up at Maverick again over the radio. Everyone's nerves were already on edge, and when you all got called into one of the meeting rooms in the afternoon, you had a weird feeling.

You walked in next to Bradley and let your fingers gently brush against his arm. He smiled at you before you turned to stand near Cam and Maria. Your boss wasn't there, but Cyclone and Warlock were. "The mission has been officially moved up," announced Cyclone. "If you're in this room, you need to report here at 0700 hours on Sunday for transport to the USS Theodore Roosevelt. Final mission details will be announced on the carrier. Tomorrow will be your final day of training and preparations."

This is what you did. All the time. You worked for weeks, months even, perfecting mission details. Then you spent a few days here and there on the cruisers, monitoring the mission software and troubleshooting issues. But this was different. This was the most dangerous detachment you'd been working on to date. 

And this is why it had been a bad idea to get too involved in the first place. Damn Rooster for being so damn charming. Right from the beginning, you knew you wouldn't be able to stay away. And now you were in over your head with him, and the mission had managed to sneak up on you.

Your eyes met Bradley's across the room. Without saying anything, you knew he would show up at your door later. You knew he would love your body and then hold you all night. And you would let him do it, because how could you stop yourself now? How could you say no?

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

Bradley had kept his overnight bag at the ready all week. He'd been back and forth between your place and his room at the barracks so much, he'd barely been able to keep track of which day it was. Not that he minded. In fact, he did not mind at all. He couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt better. He slept great every night, most likely a combination of so much sex and your amazing cuddles. Even with the mission deadline right in front of him, he felt almost no stress. 

He smiled as he tossed his bag into the Bronco and headed to your apartment. As soon as you opened your door for him, you were in his arms. "Hi," you whispered against his neck, placing a kiss on his Adam's apple. "I made you some spaghetti and meatballs."

This was music to Bradley's ears. "Keeping with my Lady and the Tramp theme, I see."

You just smiled and pulled him toward the kitchen. "So are we going to talk about work?" you asked, as you made him a plate of food. Bradley knew that while talking about work wasn't completely off the table, it wasn't something that the two of you really did. 

"I think we should talk about a lot of things," he replied, setting the plate of food on the table and wrapping his arms around you. 

"Yeah, probably," you replied. "But first you should eat. I love feeding you. You make me feel like a gourmet chef."

Bradley sat and took a few bites and tipped his head back, groaning in appreciation. "It's so good, but I've got to be honest, Baby Girl, I'm partial to the Marry Me Rooster."

You hid your face behind your hands and shook your head. "Have you officially changed the recipe's name?"

"It's a better name," he insisted, pulling you onto his lap. "You gonna make that for me again, Sweetheart?"

Your smile looked bittersweet as you whispered, "I hope so." Bradley could feel your grip around his neck tighten and his heart squeezed.

When Maria came out of her room and started watching a movie, you and Bradley snuggled on the couch and watched as well. Bradley laced his fingers through yours and pulled you down onto his chest. Your breathing relaxed and soon you were asleep on him. 

When the movie ended, you roused slightly, and he carried you to your room. He set you down on your bed before climbing in after you, the quiet darkness of your room felt like the right place for a conversation. 

"Can we talk now?" he asked you as you looked at him with dreamy eyes. 

You nodded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and cuddling up face to face with him. 

Bradley kissed your forehead and asked, "How are you feeling about the mission timeline being moved up?"

"A little nervous. Everything needs to be as perfect as it can be. Especially since you might be flying it," you told him. "Actually, I have no doubt Maverick will choose you. You're the best. Definitely better than Hangman and Coyote."

Bradley huffed out a laugh. "I'm not so sure about that. Maverick and I do not see eye to eye."

"Yeah, Roo. I noticed. Anyone listening over the radio has noticed. What's the story there?"

Bradley rolled away from you and onto his back sighing deeply. Over the last few weeks, he'd talked to you, shared more with you, than he had with anyone since his mom died. If you wanted to listen, he would keep talking to you, keep telling you everything. He rubbed his face with his hands, pressing against his eyelids until he saw stars. 

"What is it?" you asked, worry in your voice as you pulled his hands away from his face. 

You already knew so much about him, Bradley figured it was okay to share this with you too. "Maverick flew with my dad. For years they flew together, as pilot and weapons systems officer. And they were best friends." Bradley swallowed hard, rolling back to face you again. "Maverick was flying with my dad when he died. It was a training accident. A bad ejection."

"Oh, Bradley," you whispered and reached for him.

He took your hand, placing it against his cheek. "That's how I got my scars too. A bad ejection during a training exercise when I was younger. Shattered plexiglass went everywhere. There was so much blood."

"Roo," you gasped, tracing the scars that you already knew by heart.

"Yeah, but I got lucky I guess. Scared the shit out of me for a while though. Made me wonder if aviation was really for me... Anyway, I used to see Maverick when I was a kid. He stayed friendly with my mom until she died. But when I went to apply to the Naval Academy, he blocked my application from being processed. He prevented me from starting officer training as a college freshman, and he took four years off my career. I trusted him, and so did my parents. I guess that's the worst part about it." 

"That's really fucked up, Bradley."

"Yeah, I know. That's why Mav and I keep blowing up at each other. I don't know if I'll ever be able to get past it all."

You rubbed firm circles into his back as you said, "You're a really wonderful person, Roo, especially since there's so much shit you've had to deal with. And for the record, your scars are fucking sexy."

He managed a small smile. "Thanks, Baby Girl."

You were quiet for a beat before you asked him, "Since you got hurt in training, do you get nervous for missions like this one? Assuming you get chosen to fly?"

"No, somehow being in the air feels safer in a way now," he told you. "Plus, I like the connection to my dad. I don't get nervous until it's time to launch off of the carrier. But when the nerves do kick in, it feels good. It's what helps keep me alive." 

You held him tighter and kissed him hard. "Bradley Bradshaw, you better stay alive," you whispered against his lips. 

He smiled against your mouth. "With you working on the crew this time, I have a good feeling."

"Well, I'm glad you see it my way," you told him, running your fingers through his hair. "This is why it's better to keep things as casual as possible. The last thing I want is to be removed from work detail or for you to be grounded because someone sees us out together right now. The rumors would start flying, and it could be a problem."

Bradley's heart lurched down into his stomach. He thought back to carrying you up the rocky beach path, and the silent disco, and your kitchen counter. He pictured your face as you pulled him in for that first kiss in his Bronco. Nothing about this felt casual to him. Icy cold doubt crept further into his mind.

"Y/N. Sweetheart." He pushed you back a little bit further from his face to get a better look at you in the dimly lit room. "What are we doing here? What is this thing between us?" he rasped.

You looked at him with a quirked eyebrow and whispered, "Having fun? Enjoying ourselves?"

Bradley couldn't dispute that. He was having the most fun, enjoying himself more than he ever had before with any woman. But he didn't think that was all it was. You knew so much about him that he never, ever thought he'd share, and he loved learning more about you.

He forced himself to ask, "Is that it then? Am I just a bit of fun for you?" 

He watched your face crumble and he immediately felt like an ass. "What? Of course not, Bradley. I care about you! I told you, everything you do and say makes me like you more."

"Then what do you want from me, Baby Girl? Because I never stop thinking about you. I want to be around you all the time. But what do you want from me?"

"I don't... I don't know," you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. "I don't think it needs a label at the moment. At least not until after we get back from this mission. I mean, realistically, you don't know where you'll be sent next. You said so yourself. And this thing with us, it's still really new, you know? So I guess we should just wait and see."

Bradley could physically feel his heart cracking open inside him. "If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do," is all he managed to say as he felt you lace your fingers with his. 

And later in the night when you reached for him, whispering that you wanted him and kissing his scarred face, a small part of him was disappointed that he was always going to give in to you.

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

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has let me know that Rooster in his flight suit is next level for them ;) I see you, and I appreciate you lol.

Part 13 is here

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[spoiled-fawn]

Lust by Nature {Part 1}

Masterlist, Part 2, Part 3

Read on ao3

Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, (eventual) slightly dubious consent, (eventual) Somno, he wants you but is stubborn, violence, succubus reader, sexual tension, reader is given a callsign, minimal descriptions of reader, will update tags as I go

Word Count: 4,015

Summary: A demon by nature; a succubus. Now finally designated to a team, you’re a pilot in how demons and hybrid creatures alike can change the war. However, your previous commanders didn't account for a man too stubborn for his own good. Captain Price stands firm in his morals and ethics, developed by his hardened years in the SAS. You, a lustful little devil, will put him to the test.

And maybe along the way, he’ll put your nature to the test.

A/N: For my own logistics, reader was born seemingly human but the traits and magic did not solidify until reaching adult years, making you appear youthful while stuck in that age. This was originally going to be PWP but I sit here 20k words later... I hope ye enjoy!

Being a far descendant of a fallen angel, you could laugh at the pitiful life you’ve led yourself into.

You’re a pretty thing- beautiful, really. Full of allure and a natural aura of sin that draws others in with a simple look. The blood that pumps and fuels your magic has been alive for a long, long time.

Boredom is a constant in the life of the soulless and damned. It’s agonizingly blurry if you don't set a task or just choose to meander around the world but fortunately for you, you’ve got quite the life ahead of you.

Coming from a state-of-the-art high-security prison base, you’re technically a super soldier with a special drawback. Needing humans to fuel your power; you suck the life out of them, literally, and take energy from their sexual desires and touch.

It’s almost the brunt of the joke when you answer the question of what you are, feeling each time such an expectant shame and laugh to be cast upon you like heavy stones.

A succubus.

Long-acting jester of the demons taken for a lust-driven fool.

Being detained early on in your young lifespan, you were trained to be used as a weapon. Not of mass destruction, but rather something to make these stupid games of war go by so much easier. Not having to slay countless bodies for information and getting a damn good meal from the lives you stole (maybe a few quickies when your superiors weren’t looking), it’s a considerably content life compared to others.

Graduating from training after a few decades was quite the celebration for you and the officials who have been overseeing you for a plethora of years. The military had found a suitable team for you, and you were designated to be put under the supervision of an elite task force.

Supernatural beings were not uncommon in the military, as a large amount were free to live their lives if docile. In the lands of gods and monsters, the humans still held supreme reign over the controlled populations. However, beings similar to you were quick to be captured and either trained or distributed- the world turning a blind eye to what you were capable of achieving in the good and the bad.

John Price. The name stuck to your tongue like you were thirsty and you had a thick paste in your mouth.

No, not semen. At least not yet.

Being appointed to Task Force 141 was exciting. It’s your first time with this much trust, but you know you’d never fuck around too much to land you back to your containment. Captain Price had steely eyes locked onto your form the moment you stepped out of the convoy; high-security cuffs around your wrists and a large band of metal wrapped around your torso. The assumption is to keep you from shapeshifting or lashing out at anyone now that you’re out from the heavy locks and fences.

To everyone else, you looked human. Nothing amiss besides the heavy security detail on your body.

“Captain Price.” Your General’s voice rings out for you, greeting him with a firm handshake.

“General, pleasure.” His eyes dart away from you to greet the man, and you take a small dissatisfaction at the notion, your eyes traversing the expanse of him, already ruminating and calculating his presence.

He’s strong. His energy is sturdy; A cement wall that has cracks laced upon itself, layers of bonding to cover them up and just barely sanded over to appear brand new. His physical appearance leaves your internal senses giddy with the sense of a new adventure. If you’d release your glamour illusion, your tail would be swaying slowly.

The contract was simple; Your powers would be used in specific operations under Price’s command. You were his, and his only, not being allowed to act under any other authority. Behave well and you’ll be integrated more into society by his terms, but the worse you were, the worse your containment.

Your payment? Being able to form a bond with Price, one that will satisfy your demon, while being sure to keep you useful.

The etymology humans created portrayed a slew of differing conditions for succubi contracts, most being a damning thing to land humans a hot spot in hell. Being able to create this tie meant that they’d be your selected mate while they’d bear your mark to ward off any other demons. Under this, it barricaded you from killing said person. Instead, the feeding would come from sexual desire, touch, and yes, semen.

Watching Price, the flames of your creation begin to already yearn for his touch.

It's with a simple handoff of your file, a thick manilla envelope, that gets passed off to Price with no other words spoken, and you can’t help but marvel at how they treat your ownership like a back alley drug. The General nods towards you, speaking your name before the simple “But we just call her Little Devil.” A small twitch of Price's mouth makes you wonder if he disapproves.

“She may be a demon but keep her well-kept, Price. Your trial run in this program is going to do more than change war tactics.” 

Shifting the envelope in his hands, Price takes a survey of how much documentation they have on just your captive existence. There could be some good and some bad, maybe all bad but the chance of letting a temperamental half-demon could cause serious repercussions to both sides. Hypothetically. 

“We’ll be in touch.” Price responds, the forced-looking grin making the blue of his eyes slightly disappear for a moment. A nod of his head, then attention back on you while judging how to best go about this.

“You speak…?”

It sets a bristle off inside you with an internal scoff. The chance to insult him for accusing you of being either incompetent or something of the silent type settles, but your probation period keeps you inside the lines of behavior. “Yes, Captain.”

When he hears your voice; It sounds ethereal. Like the crisp jingle bells while the sound is eclipsed if not swallowed by soft and red velvet.

A small tick of his right eyebrow was the only movement accompanying a hum in acknowledgment. “Right, well. Let’s get you settled in then.”

With the queue of acceptance, the General brings a small key from a pocket unbeknownst to you, moving to unlock the cuffs. There’s humor in watching you, the new operator being uncuffed while accepted onto base- and hey, maybe you could ponder the religious message it brings forward too.

But there’s not enough time for that notion.

Walking off the tarmac and into the nearby administrative building brings steady heed of stares. “So… Your previous situation. Was told it was more of a containment type of thing. Would you mind speaking on that?” Price’s toned-down voice comes out after more than a few paces into the building, leading you towards a stairwell into the third floor.

“The best way to describe it in normalcy would be similar to what you human soldiers do here- the barracks. Just imagine its very high security.” It takes a moment to draw up the answer, having expected the man to be as nitwitted as the normal “A sex demon, huh?” question asked in every new encounter.

 “You’ve always been in that situation?”

The clicking of both sets of feet confidently strikes the ground. A sense louder than the random soldiers milling around you and the lack thereof as others stop and stare in bewilderment.

“No. Not sure if you’re making small talk or haven’t read my file yet, but my demonic integration did not start manifesting until I was in my early adult years. Got turned in when I was walking around the streets in full form. No control whatsoever on shifting.” 

A broken-off hum leaves the man, sensing the almost frazzled static around him as he works to keep walking while maintaining an eye on you. “I have. Just wanted to hear it from you.” Truthfully, if you were in his place with an unshackled demon that had years of military experience walking alongside you, you’d have some sense of fear too. “And how long ago was that? When you matured?”

Eyeing him for a moment, he looks mid-40s if anything. Handsome, worn down from war so possibly a bit younger. “Quite some time ago. I’d say when your parents were born, Captain.”

He stops in a mid-step, balances perfectly set before turning to whirr his head at you. Eyes give an up-down motion on you before ticking his jaw. “Huh.”

He pushes his way through a wall of soldiers to an office door before opening it. “And how old-”

“Body stopped aging when all the changes settled. A second sense of puberty that I’m locked into.” The small upturn of your lips doesn’t pass him. All he can do is nod in response.

He makes his way to the desk against the back corner of his office room; The space is a good size, Having enough for his L-shaped desk with two chairs in front of it. A worn-in leather couch on an adjacent wall while a few framed documents hang on the wall, military in nature with medals attached to them while undusted fake plants serve as accents in the corners.

“Very well,” He gives a soft grunt when adjusting himself in his seat before opening up the large manilla folder. “You, are going to be judged based on your nature and human interaction during your uncontained enlistment. Ability to perform assignments, be of aid, and see what your specific capabilities can put forward with us.”

Head nodding in check with each item listed, “Understood, Captain.”

His blue eyes leave the documents for a moment to find your gaze already on him. “You’ve got a good rapport with every previous task, but your previous COs still didn’t state trust as a key factor. Why would that be?”

For a moment, you get lost in the focus of his body language; Price folds his arms over the table, holding his elbows as the pages become spread over his desk. The way he purses his lips after a question that holds an answer he will depend on. His lips make a small smack in the action, and it's cute in the way he’s so human.

“I didn’t trust them.”

An eyebrow arches at the vague response prompting you to continue. “Kept me like a lab animal, fed me or let me feed when deemed easy for them to write off in the report. That’s not how you treat a demon when expecting to use their powers, sir.” 

“And this feeding… There’s multiple ways listed here but to be frank- I’ve still yet to get my head wrapped around it. You’re a sex demon, yeah?”

Ah. There it is.

His eyes dart down to the few pages that cover your needs and methods of survival, studying the paragraphs of information. A how to keep your demon alive handbook if you will.

“The premise of everything I need stems from what is deemed as life force, or just called energy. Sex is easy, and feels the most satisfying.” A breath before continuing. “ But relying on just energy wont last me long, yet its easier in some situations. Those barely alive are easy to take from.”

He knows there's more to be had with you. A temptress trained well with a pedigree in what you were made for. But he can only hypothesize. “And what are you expecting from being here?”

A look of surprise flashes in the widening of your eyes, not used to someone asking in consideration. “I’m expecting more hostiles, interrogations, or kills that I could take to feed myself. And sex too.”

“Oh-” A half cough leaves him before looking to the side. Surely he should have known, it's stereotypical but at least true.

“If you want me at full strength, I’m going to need the energy. I’m sure you could understand that, Sir?” The small tilt of your head, almost an aloof look sends alarm bells into his mind. They wouldn’t have sent a succubus in here without some sort of plan already being formed, some procedure and measure being used to-

“I am expecting to form a relationship with you, Captain.”

And at that, a full choked sound leaves him. He deserves doubled pension for this.

“And in what right mind, was that established in, hm?” He grounds out, opening a desk drawer to pull out a cigar before taking a cutter to the end of it. You measure the time it takes for him to light it and take a first steady puff.

“Well, the way I see it- and having discussed it with my previous superiors, this is supposed to mirror a real dynamic. This is the only point of contact to report on my behavior. I don’t think engaging in what I need would go over well if I went wild with other operators or soldiers around the base. Confirm or deny?”

Price’s eyes narrow as you speak, dragging his gaze away to stare at his locked computer screen. A grunt in the back of his throat sounds before taking another inhale of his cigar. For a man who has been fighting on the front lines for countless years, he keeps the smoke in for a steady amount of time. Healthy lungs. Good for him. 

You haven’t tried a cigar, only have gotten a whiff of the burning tobacco coming from superiors. This smell is the lingering one you picked up on Price even when standing on the tarmac. Sweet, vanille and tobacco leaves.

“You said your previous company spoke on this with you.” He starts with a swift movement to rifle through the pages on his desk. “This in writing or are you taking the piss now?” He speaks in a deep grumble, holding the burning cigar between his lips.

An internal groan rattles your mind, already sensing this may be more of a struggle than ease of getting what you were promised. “Last few pages. It’s all in writing.” He seemed like a sensible man in the way that if a warm and inviting body was laid out to him while asking for himself, he’d take it.

“Commanding officer is to set an established and cohesive exchange, herein the succubus will be fed from a relationship in physical and sexual natures while in exchange not damaging or harming the officer.” His accent slides in a bit more thickly than you’ve heard up until now, eyebrows scrunched while he mumbles the page to himself. “And why in the bloody hell, was this not communicated to me beforehand?”

You can’t control the wry smirk that steals your lips while looking at him, trying not to laugh. “They thought it would be a no-brainer.” A pause, “Sir.”

Plucking the cigar out of his mouth, Price sighs while leaning back in his chair seemingly defeated. “You sufficed well without any previous relation in the company, there’s no evidence that this will turn out well.” His eyes now land on you in a quick movement.

“As I mentioned-” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“No. I’m not going to sleep with my subordinate, less so one that can kill me if so pleases.” The uptick of his chin bleeds with firmness, a decision that screams arrogance of finality. 

Settling down in a way that almost matches his, your jaw ticks. “Yes, sir.”

And truthfully it's all you can say. Agree and accept to stay here and be the guinea pig for others like you. You can warn all you want but by the devil himself, humans won’t learn until their wrongs meet them in their face.

“If I could so much as advise you, Captain;” Your chin dipping, licking the front of your teeth, and feeling the small prick of your dormant fangs. He nods for you to continue, “If you want me at my full capacity, I will need every ounce of energy I can get. You’re going to need to keep that in the back of your head. It’s not simple like a meal you eat. It’s a life I take or the sex I make.”

Now, a quick smile flashes over him only disappearing when he takes a long, longer drag of the cigar. “I’ll keep that in mind, Demon.” Sitting up straighter, leaning on the desk again.

“But whether or not you are a good girl, depends on what ethics I choose to apply.” The smoke puffs out in small bursts as he speaks, tendrils leading up toward heaven before it stills in limbo at the weight of it.

—

The men- your teammates, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap, each greeted you with somewhat seasoned restraint and respect by holding their tongues yet their eyes spoke their curiosity while roaming over you.

You could see the disappointment in their eyes. Being met with a seemingly normal human was not what they had been briefed on. Having let their imagination run wild at the title of a succubus, you’d guess they would have wanted to see every aspect of what kind of mystical enchantress you would be. Once the disappointment of not seeing such things the churches pray against, the view of your human form set in.

Lords above you were the finest piece of- 

It felt like a surefire version of winning the lottery to have you assigned to them. Banking on the fact that you’d be their little guard dog and they yours, Gaz already having to scare recruits away at PT while you stared on with a coy smile. Training was as you’d have expected. Executions of strategies, questioning of tactics, and scoring your shooting were all within the long hours of the day. What you hadn’t expected was the lack of insults thrown your way in passing when you met their standards. No degrading words of being a a demon, or a slut by association of your breed.

It was two weeks before you were allowed to come on an assignment with them; The mission in the bitter snow of the Russian Tundra. 

12 hours in and having stormed a bunker with countless bodies already strewn across, blood stains the polished cement and a flicker of sinister delusion makes you wish the snow was this color.

Tattered remains of your shirt sleeves show the color of your skin underneath, but miraculously no wounds present themselves even as your kevlar has obvious points of damage. The sight of you standing, gun raised and firing quick bursts of succession as the last body falls to the ground. It’s like a scene out of a soldier's bible.

Your chest heaves, mouth opens to lick your teeth as the adrenaline slows its production in your blood. Price is sure that if he put a body cam on you, it would be a haze of movements, a shadow clouding up the corners of the screen and filled with static. He’s still not sure what to think of you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Quiet and speaking only when spoken to. And it’s not what he was prepared for; The thick dossier of yours being filled with reprimands, complaints, and classified lines that hid your after-action reports with details on your kill count.

From the first meeting, he knew you were spoiled rotten in that compound, save the punishments given on your worst days. You knew how to get what you wanted. Bitting time and time again to still be fed. Yet, now all he can see is you biting at others if only to protect your men.

“Saint.” The spur of Price’s voice makes you jump, the scene of death halting, eyes darting to a stack of crates where he lays. His squinted eyes lock onto your form, trailing up and down for a moment before he tries to adjust himself with a grunt.

“Who?” You ask while taking a secondary cautious sweep of the room before moving to him in a quick few steps.

“You, sweetheart. Saint.” 

His grunt of pain doesn’t faze you, instead focusing the whiff of a sweeter metallic smell hits you. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Ghost, Gaz, and Soap have the outside perimeter locked down with getaway snowmobiles at Price’s word. He touches the side of his com to activate it, roughly alerting them you both had cleared the floor and will need to medevac in the next coming moments.

“Let me get that for you.” It was a severe contrast to the inhumane growling and yelling from moments before as you tore into the enemies, ones that had you in a blind rage for landing a shot on Price.

Shaking his head, he reaches out his hand to stop you. “‘M fine, just need a quick patch. We need to leave.” He grounds out, leaning forward while covering the wound on his thigh.

Common knowledge brought the understanding that succubi had a level of regenerative power, but most not having been raised in military secrecy or being able to develop themselves into having control.

“Stop. Just-” A breath settles in your lungs, measuring itself and the expanse of what you could do- how you could help and be useful. The previous rage and fight instincts transform with concentration and the swirling of conjuration. “I need a little…” You trail off, eyes sweeping upwards to his.

There’s a shame that humans hold. You blame it on them being entirely born of boring flesh, but that would be hypocritical to an extent. Taking his vest in hand, you pull yourself forward to lean in.

“What the bloody-” Price jerks back but can't even finish as you sush him, giving him a deep stare that almost sedates him. He stills and quiets at the same time, now holding your gaze that he swears he saw the current color be flooded by a deep red.

He blinks for a moment, already trying to fight the small calming waves you push into him but the sudden feeling of long talons priking into his shirt makes him freeze. Like an animal with food aggression, you keep him there while moving in to bring your lips together. 

You can taste a bit of blood, and the saltiness of his sweat, while trying not to groan at just how good he feels against you. His lips are surprisingly plump, probably from being irritated due to the cold, but it adds a level of eroticness to feel his wet lips slide over yours. 

“Stay still for me.” You pause the kiss that he’s surprisingly reciprocating eagerly, breathing into each other's mouths. The soft plea drives his heart rate up and you can feel the sense of adrenaline spiking. He’s going to sleep like a fucking brick tonight.

He shudders when you come back together with more force, purposefully dragging the tip of your fangs against his bottom lip as you crowd him. 

There. 

There is the sickly sweet thrum of arousal in his body that makes his mind stir, what you could give in a bastardized excuse of lust right now.

“Mmm, give me a minute.” Comes your wet slurred speech when pulling away, eyebrows furrowing as you focus on on his bullet wound.

The sight of you could be his glory to fight. Tattered from battle, your lips are tinted red, clothes dirty from the gunpowder floating in the air, looking as if so carelessly lethal while your presence is a magnet to him. He's already caught himself wondering why you were chosen to represent a being that fell so far from heaven when your instincts screamed the opposite in small moments.

Looking down to be sure he’s healed just enough, you miss the look of blatant shock he gives when the pink and unmarred flesh greets his eyes. “A right fuckin’ saint you are.” He murmurs, watching you call the boys for exfil, no longer medevac.

[nerdygaymormon]

Hello! Do you mind providing me a link to the most current version of the handbook and just noting which sections have the changes about trans policies? I'm having trouble finding it to show my dad.

Some of the changes people are talking about are contained in a supplement to the Handbook, this is the first time such a "supplement" has been issued containing specific rules. It includes rules limiting a trans person to only attending meetings & activities which align with their gender assigned at birth, forbids trans youth and young single adults from overnight activities, restricts trans members from almost all callings, and has specific rules about under what circumstances a trans person may use the restroom.

As for the Handbook itself, right at the very beginning of the Handbook is a page summarizing the recent changes. However, the amount of changes regarding trans members is so extensive they didn't give a summary, they simply provided links to the sections which were changed.

This makes it difficult to know what was changed unless you were familiar with what was there before. Here's a link to the Handbook as it existed in April 2022

For starters, the Handbook section 38.6.23 used to be called "Transgender Individuals" and now it says "Individuals Who Identify as Transgender." The section also says "members who feel their inner sense of gender does not align with their biological sex at birth" instead of "transgender person."

The Handbook used to say: "Most Church participation and some priesthood ordinances are gender neutral. Transgender persons may be baptized and confirmed as outlined in 38.2.3.14. They may also partake of the sacrament and receive priesthood blessings. However, priesthood ordination and temple ordinances are received according to birth sex."

Now it says, "The ordinances of salvation and exaltation are received according to a person’s biological sex at birth." It also suggests that the ways a trans person can participate in the church is by family history and service to others.

The Handbook used to say "A transgender person may be baptized and confirmed if he or she is not pursuing elective medical or surgical intervention to attempt to transition to the opposite of his or her biological sex at birth (“sex reassignment”)."

Now it says, "Baptism and confirmation are received according to a person’s biological sex at birth. Worthy individuals who do not pursue surgical, medical, or social transition away from their biological sex at birth may be baptized and confirmed."

It used to say, "Some children, youth, and adults are prescribed hormone therapy by a licensed medical professional to ease gender dysphoria or reduce suicidal thoughts. Before a person begins such therapy, it is important that he or she (and the parents of a minor) understands the potential risks and benefits. If these members are not attempting to transition to the opposite gender and are worthy, they may receive Church callings, temple recommends, and temple ordinances.

Now this carve out for someone to receive hormone therapy under medical supervision for their mental well being and still be considered worthy has been eliminated.

————————————————

The Handbook says "These individuals often face complex challenges. They—and their family and friends—should be treated with sensitivity, kindness, compassion, and Christlike love. All are children of God and have divine worth." Do these changes seem like they're sensitive, kind, compassionate and full of love?

What they've actually done is indirectly say there is no such thing as a transgender person and anyone who feels they are needs to repent. Basically, we don't want you around our children, we don't trust you to even go to the bathroom, if you feel like we don't want you here, please know we're telling you this "with love and respect."

In the October 2020 General Conference, President Nelson delivered a talk titled "Let God Prevail" in which he said, "Today I call upon our members everywhere to lead out in abandoning attitudes and actions of prejudice. I plead with you to promote respect for all of God’s children." I wish the church truly strove to follow this admonition.

[little-luna-llama]

When are we ever ready?

Custard (at least in my mind) is such a pitch perfect mix of pure vanilla and shadow milk, and a parallel to both of them.

It's analysis timeeee

Contains: my analysis of canon custard iii, a quick parallel between him and Dark Choco cookie, A quick analysis of what I think made shadow milk turn into a beast and why and finally the actual parallel between custard, Shadow and Vanilla. (Being ready to handle something)

Custard is a kind vanillian cookie kid with a persona that's basically his entire personality(being king). He speaks in a way that could be read as bratty, but comes off as performative and a little silly goofy.

He's trying to step into shoes that are wayyy to big for him right now that comes with decisions he's not ready to make or knowledge he's not ready to know. His fortune cookie says "Watch, listen, play! Your memories will shine brighter than a royal crown."

It's literally saying stop trying to grow up and enjoy the now. Because let's be real: growing up sucks when it actually happens. Custard is yet to realise that because he's a kid still looking at adulthood through rose coloured glasses like any kid would.

In a sense this also makes him a parallel to dark choco cookie, who from what we've seen had a very hopeful and positive outlook when he was younger, trying to do what is best for the kingdom but seeming to lack understanding in some of the details, which deepens the rift with his father and fuels his need to prove himself. Which as we know didn't end well...

Custard I don't think is in it to prove himself as a leader. If you've read the bluebell fics I've actually stated that I see the kingly persona as a sort of trauma response. He misses his dad and we don't know what happened to him, and most likely custard doesn't know either. Custard is very young, arguably the youngest of the cast behind snapdragon who's a literal baby, I say about 7/8 years old and loosing your parents at that age definitely doesn't help you develop healthy states of mind or coping mechanisms because there's no supervision.

Custard knows he's of noble vanillian lineage, he heard stories of pure vanilla, this beloved King who was loved by all that grandpa was close to, he was powerful and navigated life's struggles with such ease and gentleness. A kid hears that and thinks "wow he had a lot of friends because he was King! If I'm King then everyone will want to be my friend and I won't be lonely anymore! And I can make the rules!" It's a very young mindset. It also puts him above the others so if they leave him, he can get the last word in and they aren't leaving him, he's banished them. He's in charge, he doesn't want to be friends with them and they should feel sorry about it.

I don't think it's intentionally toxic or anything, it's just the mind of a kid rationalising something to protect themselves from the trauma they've experienced. It's really common for childhood trauma to manifest a coping mechanism like this; finding a source of inspiration and power to project onto, to call on for emotional support. In certain cases it with even go as far as to manifest as d.i.d, but that's not relevant to custard. This also happens in adults as well.

This links to Shadow milk however: shadow has one of the starkest transformations in theme from ancient to beast from what we've seen. Eternal hardly changed, mystic seems to have simply hidden themselves behind a veil, burning spice hardly changed, and it seems silent salt simply put on their helmet.

Shadow milk however was clearly a scholar/Wizard archetype. Fits with his virtue being knowledge, much like how eternal hardly changing fits with their sloth, burning spices silhouette getting bigger fits with the overwhelming power of destruction, mystic hiding themselves away behind their veil to appear unfeeling/apathetic and like a god to their followers (its a literal separation) and silent hiding their face entirely so not even their expressions could communicate their feelings.

So why is did shadow go from a prim and proper scholar to a jester? I think it's all to do with knowledge.

All the beasts had to experience some great trauma, that one moment that solidified their descent into darkness(I have theories for all of them.) Something that, to them, justifies their actions (or lack thereof). Shadow Milks power is that of knowledge, and knowledge doesn't discriminate between the good and evil. Shadow would most likely be hyper aware of everything, to the point of near omniscience before creating dark moon magic. He would see the world and his friends suffering and want to stop it all, and he finds a way:

Using mind magic and trickery. It starts innocent but it builds and builds and it becomes addictive, then it becomes second nature.

Innocently making someone forget the horrors they've experienced, or filling someone's mind with fake positive memories to turn them away from committing atrocities. Perhaps he does it to his friends: maybe he sees them falling and every time he fills their heads with sweet lies to buy them a few more months.

He's overloaded by taking on everyone's troubles while he was still coming to grips with his power, he has no one to turn to because of his spiderweb of lies. He's alone and he doesn't know how to cope. Just like custard

And just like custard he adopts a front: instead of feeling remorse or trying to reverse what he's done and accept that he made a mistake he just leans into it harder, forging a new identity to pick up the pieces and figure something out, unchained by the lies of his past because he is the director the playwright, the producer, he gets to make the decisions and nobody can question him.

(Obviously the first thing he would do would be to lift the lies from his friends and have them fall too.)

Vanilla also sort of does this with healer cookie, but he has amnesia at that point in the story. Healer cookie is more like the truest reflection of pure vanilla cookie, unburdened by the horrors of his life. I bet shadow milk watched healer cookie and seethed inside. For Custard though, I think it was something he had to see even if it hasn't paid off yet. He got to know pure vanilla completely outside of his idealised version without bias because he didn't know.

In the crumbs of content we do have both from in game and twitter we have seen Custards attitude change a little. He's mellowed out a little in the dark cacao episodes and by the time stories by the campfire rolls around he's much more an excited child who happens to like his prince costume and playing prince than a 7 year omd trying to actually be in a position of power with no help or guidance.

Since pure vanilla and shadow are supposed to be opposites I think custard is actually supposed to help convey what makes them the same and what makes them different. They share the acting performative parts of their character with shadow milk, but with vani we see custard genuinely trying to impress him because he wants to be like the vanilla he heard about in his bedtime stories. However custard currently runs the risk of stumbling into something that he's not ready for, which is something I think vani and shadow share. Vanilla wasn't ready to receive the light of truth and its responsibility, and shadow wasn't really ready to weild all of that knowledge alone.

This is also partly why I made the bluebell au. Shadow definitely smelt a kindred spirit but also "hey the kids connected to vani this will make good angst." And also In the fic I have custard adopting a few variations of his prince persona partly to make more people like him.

[worldofheroes]

Playing Games

bbc!sherlock x fem!reader summary: you and sherlock are stuck in the flat, bored out of your minds. what comes next is surprising to both of you (mostly you). warnings: 18+, smut, p in v sex, language wc: 1.2k a/n: based on a request by @fierytteokbokki! I took a creative liberty or two - not necessarily angry sex, but I hope you still like it :)

It’s been a long four hours.

You’re sitting on the couch of 221B Baker Street, trying to get some work done, but Sherlock is in front of you, pacing and muttering to himself.

“Can you stop that?” you ask him, getting slightly irritated. “I’m trying to work here.”

“I don’t know why John insists you stay here, to watch me like I’m some sort of child!” Sherlock exclaims, turning around to face you.

He’s not wrong. Your cousin, John, took you under his wing until you settled back in after living away, but now he uses you to leave Sherlock and get some alone time. You don’t blame him.

“I don’t know either, but to make this more tolerable for both of us, please, sit down or just do anything else but pace like a wild animal.”

“I just need a case! Something, anything will do!"

“I can’t control that, so don’t take it out on me. I don’t want to be here either.”

“No?”

“You really think a 30-something wants to stay in on a Friday night?”

“I don’t know!”

“Just… quit pacing, and maybe John will be back home so we both can do what we want.”

You focus your eyes back on your screen, but you sense Sherlock is staring at you.

“What do you want?” you slam your laptop closed.

“What?”

“You’re staring?”

“No, I’m not."

“Sherlock, please stop acting like a child! What do you want with me?”

“I am not acting like a child!”

You roll your eyes and sigh, going back to your work, hoping you can ignore Sherlock that way, hoping John comes back soon.

Sherlock pushes your laptop closed.

“Dammit Sherlock!” You look up at him, and he seems pleased with himself. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“I’m not being that annoying, am I?”

“Oh god,” you say, rubbing your face. “I am not in the mood to do this, Sherlock. Just, leave me alone, okay?”

“Leave you alone? You’re free to leave at any time, y/n.”

“I’m pretty sure John would kill me. He says you need to be supervised, especially when you don’t have a case.”

Sherlock frowns.

“Seriously, what do you want?”

“Bored.”

“Not my problem, Sherlock.”

“You’re the only one here, won’t you please entertain me?”

“You’re an adult, entertain yourself.” You set your laptop aside, standing up in front of Sherlock.

“What do you do all day on your laptop? I’ve never seen you without it.”

“I work remotely.”

“That’s all?”

“You don’t need to know."

“Hmm,” he hums, stepping closer to you.

“I really don’t like you,” you say, moving to walk past Sherlock. As you do, Sherlock grabs your arm. “What?”

“I’m sick of this too.”

“Great, now let me go,” you say, trying to wiggle out of Sherlock’s grip.

“This is fascinating,” Sherlock whispers.

“What now?”

“You’re trying to hide your true feelings.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock smirks, which makes you roll your eyes.

“Admit it.”

“I’ve had enough of you, Sherlock,” you tell him, staring him down.

“We don’t have to play games, y/n. We’re adults.”

“Seriously, just let me go and I’ll leave. I know that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what I want,” Sherlock mutters.

Sherlock is inches from your face, eyes locked with each other. He leans in and kisses you.

You’re taken aback, but the hesitation goes away as he places a hand on either side of your face. You've pushed down these feelings for Sherlock, as he works with your cousin - it didn't seem right.

Sherlock’s kisses get messier, hungrier, and you find yourself touching him in any way you can.

You eventually find the buttons on his shirt, and start to fiddle with them.

“Tell me what you want,” Sherlock mutters into your ear.

“I just want you,” you tell him, colliding your lips with his again.

He pushes his body against yours, and you can feel his hardness under his clothes.

You undo his buttoned up shirt and slide it off. Your hands move up and down his chest, learning his body.

He tugs at your shirt, and you happily comply. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor, but you’re not paying attention.

Sherlock’s hands move down your sides and to your jeans. “May I?” he whispers, his hands on the zipper.

You nod, unable to speak.

Once your jeans and panties are off, he gently pushes you onto the couch, stradling you. He again presses his crotch against you, making both of you moan.

“Just fuck me already, Sherlock,” you whisper, running your hands through his dark curls.

“With pleasure,” he growls, taking his own pants off, tossing them aside. When he removes his boxers, you’re surprised by the size of his cock.

“Sherlock,” you squeak.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says as his tip comes into contact with your center.

You buck at the sensation.

“Good,” he whispers, gathering spit on his hand to lube the both of you up.

His tip gently enters you, and you can’t help the moan that escapes from your lips.

“Oh, I’m not even in yet,” Sherlock says, leaning down to kiss your neck and pushing deeper into you.

“Fuck, Sherlock,” you moan, unable to say anything else.

Sherlock gently rocks his hips, helping open you up.

“You feel so good,” he growls.

You moan in reply, your brain short-circuiting.

His pace quickens, and soon the flat is filled with moans and the ungodly noise of bodies coming into contact repeatedly.

Neither one of you hears the door open.

“Jesus Christ!” you hear John shout.

“John!” you exclaim, trying to cover up but there’s nothing in your reach to help you. In your startle, Sherlock’s dick pulls out from you.

“With Sherlock?” John shouts, covering his face.

“John, I can explain,” you say.

“No, you don’t need to explain,” John says, turning around and walking towards the door. “I will never be able to get this out of my head,” he exclaims as he exits the flat, closing the door behind him.

Sherlock grins at you.

“What?” you ask him, slightly annoyed by his grin.

“I love how we were caught by your cousin,” he tells you as he leans in for a kiss.

You turn your face away from him. “Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood any more.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Sherlock cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m going to finish fucking you, and that’s not a request,” Sherlock says, pushing back into you.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“That’s what I thought,” Sherlock sends you a sly smile.

“Do your worst,” you say with a mischievous smile.

“With pleasure,” he retorts, starting up his thrusting again.

Only moans come out of you as you have some of the best sex you’ve ever had, and soon you feel your orgasm coming.

“Sherlock,” you mumble between breaths. “I’m close.”

“Keep it in for me, baby,” he tells you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you gasp.

“One more second.”

“Sherlock, I can’t!”

“Go ahead, baby girl,” he mutters against your neck.

You release and almost scream at how good it feels. A few more thrusts more and Sherlock comes in you, gasping.

He collapses on top of you.

“Fuck, Sherlock,” you say, running your hands through his hair.

“You seemed to enjoy that,” he smiles against your chest.

“Fuck,” you say again.

“Do you want to admit those feelings now?” Sherlock teases.

“I’ll think about it,” you smile.

Sherlock smiles and kisses you as you wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

[liminal-space-lesbian]

Loser IV

Pairing: Enid Sinclair x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, scary Wednesday, bullying / harassment, the d slur, physical violence, blood, panic attack, mentions of police and EMS

Summary: During a field trip to Pilgrim World you and Enid are paired up for volunteering. Things are going well until a group of boys decide to harass Enid.

Words: 3,659

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

a/n guyssss this is kinda bad ngl... I got carried away but OH WELL. Also any legal stuff I mention is all mumbo jumbo bc I have no clue how any of that works so just ignore it please 🫶

The days following your confession to Enid were... awkward to say the least. Though you both had promised things could go back to normal there was a tension between the two of you. You caught Enid staring at you more than once during Vampire biology, and you weren't quite sure what to make of it.

Today wasn't the day to worry about it however, considering you and your classmates were on a field trip of sorts to Pilgrim World to... volunteer? You weren't really paying attention during the announcement so you weren't even sure. All you knew was that getting away from Nevermore for a change of scenery was just what you needed for a distraction.

Or so you thought.

Apparently your teacher was pairing up students for their tasks of the day, and you were paired with none other than Enid. Perfect.

"Ready, partner?" Enid asks, bouncing up to you excitedly and looping her arm through yours. You stiffened at the contact, your heart skipping a beat at the warmth of her arm against yours. Her smile faltered as she noticed you tense, trying to casually release your arm. The atmosphere between you was awkward now. Great.

"Ready as I'll ever be. What are we even supposed to do anyways?" You ask, trying to diffuse the tension as you begin walking side by side. Enid lets out an agitated sigh, rolling her eyes.

"We get the boring job. We have to check tickets at the entrance." Enid says with a groan, purposefully dragging her feet as she casts a forlorn glance at you. You can't help but chuckle at her antics.

"Well at least you'll have good company." You say with a cocky grin, causing her to smile, pink tinging her cheeks. You felt your heart stutter in your chest. 'Wait, was that flirting? Did I accidentally just flirt with her? Oh God I hope I didn't weird her out.' You think frantically as you turn your gaze ahead.

"Mm that's true. I do think I got the best volunteer buddy for the day." Enid says with a wide smile, her eyes glittering with mischief and something almost like affection. You had to look away from her gaze or else you'd stare for too long. 'Why is she so pretty, oh my God.' You thought as you felt your cheeks burn.

"Oh hey, are you guys the Nevermore volunteers?" A young man with a scruffy beard and messy blond hair asked with a half smile. You nodded, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

"Yep that's us. Are you like our adult supervision for the day?" You asked, eyeing the pamphlets in his hands. He barks out a laugh, causing you to flinch slightly.

"Well, something like that. I'm not gonna be here to supervise much though, you're taking over my job for the day. I'll show you the ropes, and if you need anything I'll be in the lounge." He explains simply, handing you some pamphlets and a hole punch to Enid.

"It's simple, you," he points at Enid, "take a look at the tickets and make sure the date and price is correct, then hole punch the upper right corner like this." He demonstrates on a ticket he pulls out of his pocket, then he turns to you. "And you hand out the pamphlets, which is basically more information on Pilgrim World and also a map of the grounds. Easy peasy." He says, patting you on the shoulder and flashing you a smile. "Well I'm off, goodluck." And with those words he was gone.

You turn to Enid, only to already find her staring at you wide eyed.

"Well that was... a less than ideal introduction." You say, stifling a chuckle at Enid's distraught expression.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it. We totally got this though, how hard can it be? Like he said, easy peasy." She says, shrugging her shoulders as she tries to stay optimistic, turning to face the entrance as a few people approach with their tickets.

"Hi! Welcome to Pilgrim World!" She says in her usual enthusiastic tone, causing you to smile. This day was gonna be a peace of cake.

~ ~ ~

Oh how wrong you were. After about an hour of standing in the hot sun waiting for people to arrive, this job was looking very bleak. Pilgrim World wasn't as popular of an attraction as it used to be, if it was ever popular to begin with. You were simply standing there sweating miserably, and you now understood why that guy was so eager to leave you two to this job.

"Well this sucks." You say with a sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead. Enid chuckles, gently pushing your shoulder with hers.

"Hey, don't be so negative. I mean we've already been here for," she checks her phone for the time and blanches, "forty minutes?" She nearly shouts in astonishment, her expression crumpling. "Oh my gosh we're going to actually die here." She dramatically says in despair. You couldn't help but laugh, causing her to playfully pout at you.

"Hey, how about I run and grab us some water from the fridge inside? A cool drink will probably make this a bit more bearable." You offer, and Enid turns to you with wide eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and looks in your eyes seriously.

"At this very moment in time I wouldn't love anything more than a cold water." She says in a dead serious tone and you stifle a laugh, gently patting the hands that rest on your shoulders.

"Yes ma'am! Think you can hold down the fort while I run and get them?" You ask, wiggling your eyebrows playfully as you gesture to the empty queue. She scoffs, playfully pushing you in the direction of the lounge.

"Yes, I am more than confident that I can handle it." She says with an eyeroll and you giggle as you scurry off to get some water. You let out a relieved sigh as you enter the cool ac of the lounge. The guy who was supposed to be supervising you was lying on one of the couches, dead asleep. You chuckle softly as you open the fridge and grab two chilled bottles of water. You turn around to head back outside only to be met with Wednesday standing right behind you.

"Holy shit." You nearly scream, flinching back from Wednesday sharply. The girl doesn't react, simply staring at you with the same intense dead eyed stare.

"What are you doing?" She questions, her tone cold. You feel goosebumps rise on your arms from the intensity of her stare, and you swallow nervously.

"I'm getting water for Enid and I, since it's hot in the sun." You explain, voice shaking embarrassingly as Wednesdays eyes narrow. There is a tense silence for a moment before Wednesday takes a minuscule step closer to you, causing you to take a step backwards, nearly bumping into the fridge.

"Enid cares about you. I can't even begin to understand why, considering you are nearly as unremarkable as a drop of water amidst the ocean. However you are important to her, considering you're nearly all she ever talks about. So I shall give you a single warning." She leans closer to your personal space and you lean backwards away from her, heart racing in fear at her unblinking gaze. 'How does she never blink? It's like she has creepy soulless doll eyes.' You think as her dark eyes bore into your soul.

"If you hurt her, I will eviscerate you and strangle you with your own intestines." Wednesday says, her tone clear and colder than ice. You shiver, and nod, not trusting your voice. There is another moment of tense silence before Wednesday turns on her heel and leaves you alone, heart still hammering in your chest.

"What the hell was that?" You whisper to yourself, blinking at the space Wednesday occupied only moments before. What did she mean, Enid cares about you? She talks about you all the time? You couldn't help feeling a flicker of happiness at the thought. You shake your head, quickly leaving the lounge and heading back to Enid. You'd unpack your encounter with Wednesday later, right now you needed to get back to Enid.

As you approached, you noticed three guys standing a bit too close to Enid for comfort. You could see the jeering smiles on their faces before you heard their voices, and you felt adrenaline begin to flood your system as you approached.

"Isn't this the little werewolf chick from Nevermore?" One of them drawls, pinching the shoulder of Enid's blazer, causing her to lean away from him.

"Yeah I think so. She's the one who can't even shift though, right? Like some sort of runt or something." One of the other boys taunts, reaching over to tug at a piece of Enid's dyed hair.

"Hey, what's going on here?" You announce your presence loudly, shoving your way through the boys to stand beside Enid, placing your body between them. Your tone is cold and your expression is serious as you stare down the boy who touched Enid's hair.

"Tsk, chill we're just trying to get her number." The boy lies, a disgusting smile curving at his lips as his eyes drift from you to Enid, who was still standing slightly behind you. You shift your body to shield her from his gaze.

"Well she's not interested. So either show me your ticket or fuck off." You say, your voice hard as you grit your teeth. He raises his eyebrows at you, a scoff leaving his lips as he glances at his friends for support, who chuckle as well.

"Oh, what, is she your girlfriend or something? Damn, can you imagine being a dyke and a Nevermore freak?" He directs his question to his friends, who jeer and laugh along with him.

"Hey!" Enid protest from behind you, but you cut her off, wrinkling your nose in disgust as you stare him down.

"Seriously dude? Grow up." You snap, your tone laced with distaste. The kid straightens up to his full height, trying to loom over you and intimidate you. Your heart pounds nearly painfully in your chest with fear, but you keep your exterior calm.

"Or what? What even are you anyway, a vampire or some shit? Gonna bite me?" He taunts, and you stare at him with an unimpressed look.

"You're really fucking pathetic, you know that?" You say, anger flaring in your chest now. 'Can't this douchebag just leave us alone? God, why is he so entitled.' You think as your grind your teeth.

"What'd you just say?" He asks in a threatening tone, stepping into your personal space. You hold your ground, meeting his gaze. Your pulse roared in your ears and you felt Enid's hand grip the back of your blazer tightly.

"Oh, are you deaf or just stupid?" You taunt, feeling a shred of satisfaction at the way his expression contorts with anger. You see the way his hands ball into fists and you gently reach behind you, pushing Enid away from you.

Just as you expected the boy shoved you hard in the chest, causing you to stumble backward. Enid cried out your name but you ignored her. He had put his hands on you, now you could beat the shit out of him.

You drop the bottles of water into the dirt and fly at him, driving your elbow into his face. He stumbles back with a grunt, but before you can land another hit one of his friends grabs your arms and wrenches them behind your back. He lifts you up painfully, forcing you to stand on your tiptioes as your shoulders strain under the angle he has your arms pinned at.

"Fucking whore." The boy spits, punching you across the face. Your head snaps to the side but you hardly feel the pain from the adrenaline in your system. You don't know where the third boy is, too focused on the one holding your arms. Your punched in the face again and you twist and writhe, trying to escape the firm grasp on your arms.

Suddenly you're released and sent sprawling into the dirt face first. You scramble to your feet and glance behind you to see Wednesday standing over the boy who had been holding your arms. You turn back to the one who had punched you and lunge. You slam your shoulder into his stomach and tackle him to the ground. He gasps for breath as the wind is knocked out of him. Before he can recover you are slamming your fist into his nose repeatedly. Your vision narrows, solely focusing on continuously hitting him. Your heartbeat roars in your ears and rage seems to fill every inch of your body. 'How dare he harass Enid? How dare he say those things about her?' Your mind repeats this like a mantra as you continue hitting him.

Suddenly someone is dragging you off of him, shouting at you. You shove them away, trying to claw your way back to him, but their grip is too strong.

"Let me go! I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna beat that motherfucker until he can't breathe." You snarl, writhing and struggling against the arms holding you back. Your voice tears through your throat as you scream, slowly losing steam as you feel ever emotion flood your system.

"Y/n, you need to calm down." An even voice says close to your ear, and you sag into the arms, tears streaming uncontrollably down your face. You feel overwhelmed in every sense of the word as you try to catch your breath, hyperventilating as you begin to sob.

The next thing you know you're sitting in the dirt crying, Wednesday in front of you with something akin to concern in her gaze. Enid hovers behind her, looking panicked. You notice her claws are out and covered in blood.

"Y/n you need to take deep breaths." Wednesday says in a steady reassuring voice. You try to even your breathing, still gasping and hyperventilating as your eyes dart around. You notice a few adults are kneeling over the boys. who are all lying on the ground or sitting up clutching various injuries.

"Let's get you three to the lounge." One of the Pilgrim World employees says before leading you to the lounge and away from the boys. You wait for EMS and the police to arrive, slowly calming down, wiping your eyes as you stare down at your shaking and bloodied hands.

"Here." Enid's voice says softly beside you, her hand gently tilting your head towards her so she can dab at the blood dripping down your face. You avoid her gaze, your breathing shaky from crying.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, sniffling slightly. Enid lets out a quiet breath, her thumb tracing your jaw gently.

"You don't need to apologize. You were just trying to help; those guys were being creeps." She says softly as she finishes wiping at the blood on your face. You look up as an officer enters the room, speaking to one of the Pilgrim World employees before nodding and leaving once more to retrieve EMS.

"What'd he say?" You ask the employee nervously. They sigh and look at you with their hands on their hips.

"Well, since we have security footage of the fight we know you're not the aggressor, so long as neither of you press charges the cops are willing to let it go." They say with a heavy sigh, looking relieved. "Of course you'll all be banned from Pilgrim World in the future but I assume that's the least of your worries." They say with a tight lipped smile and a nod.

"Oh okay... Thank you." You murmur, dropping your head to rest in your hands as you take a deep breath, The adrenaline had long since fled your body and now your face and knuckles were throbbing terribly. Your shoulders felt strained from how they had been held as well.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur as EMS checked you out, patching you up and giving you a few stitches on your lip where it had been split from the boy punching you in the teeth.

Soon you were back at Nevermore and lying on your bed with an ice-pack pressed to the entirety of your face. Every heartbeat sent pulsing pain through your face and hands, causing you to groan. You didn't regret it exactly, you knew you'd fight a thousand people to protect Enid. You just wished it didn't have to escalate that far.

There was a knock at your door and you mumbled for whoever was there to come in. You pulled the icepack off your face and were surprised to see Enid standing there.

"Oh. Hi." You say dumbly, sitting up to stare at her in surprise. She offers you a small smile, padding over to stand in front of you, fiddling with her hands nervously. "Uh... Sorry again for earlier. I didn't want to fight him but he just wouldn't-" Your rambling was cut off as Enid threw herself at you, wrapping you in a tight hug. You stiffened in shock, gently resting a hand on her back.

"Thank you." Enid whispered, pressing her face into your neck, and you felt goosebumps prickle your skin as her breath tickled your skin.

"I- it's no big deal." You say casually, rubbing Enid's back soothingly as she tightens her grip on you..

"I was really scared when they were... I didn't know what they wanted with me. You have no idea how relieved I was when you showed up." Enid admits as she leans back to look at your face. Your heart lurches when you notice her eyes glistening with tears.

"Hey, it's okay. I'd never let them do anything to you." You say, attempting to comfort her as you brush hair away from her face, offering a gentle smile. Her eyes soften and her gaze flicks down to your lips for a moment. Your heart races in your chest, and you think maybe you had just imagined it.

"Well I appreciate you. And I'm sorry that you got hurt." Enid says, leaning back slightly as she adjusts how she's sitting in your lap. Her fingers trace the stitches on your lip and suddenly the throbbing pain was replaced with pleasant tingles.

"I'd do it a thousand times if you asked." You whisper before you can stop yourself, and Enid's lips part slightly in surprise. Her eyebrows pull together slightly as her thumb traces your bottom lip, her breath fanning over your face. 'She looks like she wants to kiss me.' You think, sure you must have some sort of head trauma. No way Enid would-

All at once, she's leaning down and her lips press to yours gently, softer than rose petals. Her mouth is warm, her lips tasting of cherry lipgloss. Your eyes drift shut and your hand on her back presses her closer to you. Your head feels light and airy, as if it's full of clouds. Surely you're dreaming?

No, the way Enid cups your jaw in her hands is all too real. The soft breath she exhales through her nose as she moves her lips against yours, tilting her head slightly so her nose brushes your cheek. All too soon she pulls away and looks into your eyes, her face tinged with a blush.

"I like you too." She confesses in a quiet voice, and you simply stare up at her dumbly, mouth agape. "When you were avoiding me it made me realize I thought of you more than I did Ajax. I was more upset over you than I was over my breakup with him." She murmurs, looking a but ashamed. You bring your hand up to brush your fingers across her cheek lightly.

"I can't say I'm disappointed." You say with a breathless chuckle, a smile curling at your lips involuntarily. Enid smiles back, giggling slightly as she leans into your touch.

"So... will you maybe be my girlfriend?" She asks quietly, her hands sliding down from where they cup your jaw to rest on your shoulders. Your stitches burn from how big you smile.

"Only if you'll be my girlfriend too." You tease, chuckling at the way Enid covers her giggle with her palm, gently giving your shoulder a playful swat.

"Okay, we're girlfriends then." She says with a broad smile, bringing her face close to yours to place a gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth. You gently guide her lips to yours to kiss her fully, relishing in the taste of her lipgloss as you inhale deeply through your nose, smelling her vanilla shampoo.

You lean back onto your bed, pulling her down on top of you, cuddling her close. She is more than happy to oblige, curling into your side and nuzzling her face into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. Your arm is wrapped around her shoulders while your free hand is laced with hers where it rests on your stomach. Her legs twine with yours lazily and you let out a contented sigh.

Your face and knuckles are still throbbing, and you know your lip will scar. However those worries seem small and far away as Enid's warmth seeps into your body. You feel sleep tugging at your mind as you roll over, tucking Enid's head under your chin as you wrap your arms around her. She quickly reciprocates, her arms looping around your waist as she holds you close to her. She's so soft and warm that it's not long before sleep fully takes you.

When you wake up the next morning with Enid still in your arms, you fully realize that it was in fact not a dream.

p.s. I've never kissed anyone before so if it's poorly written that's why 💀

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi! I hope your doing okay! Can I please request a Ubuyashiki Kagaya!Reader From demon slayer and how the gods and humans would react to such a kind and gentle person. I feel like them and Adam and Sasaki would get along very good. Please and thank you!

-With the rising threat of demons in Valhalla, the gods and humans of Ragnarok, after being returned to life thanks to a selfless wish, they needed expert help.

-The Demon Slayer Corps worked under the supervision of Hades, but the leader of the corps was actually a young adult, you.

-You were brought to Valhalla in your prime, right when your curse took your eyes, making it unable to see your partner or your children again, but every now and then, on sunny days, you could see small glimpses of things, like trees.

-The Hashira and Demon Slayer Corp members welcomed the gods and humans warmly to the massive home base of the Demon Slayers, to discuss what to do, now that Muzan was bringing his strongest back to life and releasing his demons on the citizens, gods and humans, of Valhalla.

-Between the hard work of the Corps and the warriors, several of Muzan’s strongest have been dealt with, leaving only the strongest few, including Muzan himself.

-Many were optimistic about handling him because they managed to do it once, they could to it again, and with history’s strongest warriors and gods besides them, everyone believed this threat could be handled.

-A gentle voice then spoke up, “Don’t not get overconfident, I have lost many to that.” Spooking everyone, the Hashira and anyone affiliated with the Demon Slayer Corps, minus Hades, all dropped down, kneeling.

-From the main house came a young adult, a dark scar covering the top part of your face and several other areas of your body, like your left hand. Your hands were being held by two of your daughters, leading out into the sunshine.

-Hades stunned everyone by bowing his head to you, greeting you and introducing you as the true leader of the Demon Slayer corps, while he just oversaw the operation.

-You turned your head in Hades’ direction, greeting him with a soft smile. You were so gentle, so soothing, totally unlike someone who was the supreme leader of the Demon Slayer Corps!

-You ignored the whispers from those who did not know you, hearing their questions and concerns over your curse.

-A bright, warm voice then called out, “Y/N~ it’s nice to meet you again!” your smile was so warm when you heard Kojiro, who approached and stunned all, except your children, by embracing you, giving you a firm hug, showing your close friendship with Kojiro.

-Thanks to the samurai, he was able to break the tension, and everyone relaxed, and you got to meet several other gods and strong warriors.

-A warm hand enveloped yours, shaking your hand and he introduced himself as Adam, you felt a serene sort of energy around him, one that made you feel safe as well.

-Adam was immediately drawn to you, sensing your pain, but seeing you being a doting father, treating your daughters gently, and seeing how gentle you were with the other warriors, especially your Hashira and warriors, he felt a sort of kinship with you.

-Zerofuku was a bright god, his energy radiating warmth to you, as he sat next to you, asking you all sorts of questions about the Demon Slayers, he was like a curious child, but you were so patient with him, treating him like he was one of your own.

-You heard your own children playing outside with Zerofuku a short while later, getting the children out while you spoke with Odin and Zeus, as well as Hades, Rengoku, Kojiro, Adam, and Gyomei, discussing the looming threat of Muzan and what could be done.

-While others in the meeting got more heated, to the point of yelling, you always remained calm and collected, and stunned everyone when you spoke, that you were able to calm all of them down so easily, which did help as it cleared their heads and made it easier to plan.

-Your offer of weakening Muzan by how you killed him back on earth, via suicide bomb, was quickly vetoed, and you were surprised by all those in the Demon Slayer Corps had been the ones to yell, along with your children.

-The gods and warriors watched as you hugged and doted on each of them, soothing them and apologizing for your words, as they were all upset, not wanting to lose you again, saying there were other ways!

-Kojiro smiled softly at you as Adam was stunned by your devotion to help your children, all of them, even if they were older than you and not related, just like him, they were all your children.

-You truly were an amazing person.

[writing-whump]

Car accident

Hector and Arnie get into a car accident. Have some protective, hurting Hector and panicky, comforting Arnie. Contains emeto and painful healing.

Arnie couldn't have been passed out for long, but it still surprised him. Where was he?

His seatbelt was on, digging into his chest...and he was lying kind of sideways, wasn't he?

He blinked, something wet running into his eyes. When he rubbed at it, his fingers came up red.

It wasn't just him tilted sideways.

The whole car was sideways. What the hell just happened?

He was the one driving. This was one of the driving lessons he was having with Hector. Supervised by an adult, he could take rides after the first couple of exams until he went to the final one to get his driving license.

Did he make a mistake? What happened? And why couldn't he remember it?

Arnie's breathing picked up as he looked left and right. Hector was supposed to be on the passenger seat, but he wasn't there...

A quiet sob broke out of his chest as he followed the wet trail of blood to his temple and into his hair.

There was a scratching noise and the car came down from its position on the side. It came down gently, slowly, like someone was turning it over with care.

The door snapped over and Hector was there, immediately grabbing for his seatbelt to get him out. He must have used all his wolf strength to move the car down.

"H-Hex? W-what happened...?" Arnie's voice shook as Hector got him out of the car, helping him take a few steps to the side. They ended up on some kind of grass field next to the highway, cars driving past them with speed.

"The fucker went straight into us. I turned the wheel to the side, but it caught us on the right and we turned a few times." Hector's hand was on his elbow, steadying him as Arnie fell to his knees. He dug his fingers into the grass strands, grateful for the steady ground.

"Are you hurt?" Hector's hand brushed against his chin to lift it up, so he could inspect his head. "It's bleeding here in your hair a little. How is the pain?"

"I'm okay. C-can't even feel it."

Hector lowered himself to the ground too, grunting. That's when Arnie noticed how pinched his features were and that he was touching Arnie only with one hand.

"H-Hex? Y-you okay?"

"Fine, fine." He waved him off, again only with one hand. Arnie craned his neck to see his other side.

His left hand was pressed tight against his side...and it was bent back at the elbow at an unnatural angle.

"Oh my god, Hex- your-your hand-"

Hector sighed, as if Arnie noticing was the crisis he was waiting for. He reached behind Arnie's head, pushing their foreheads together so Arnie couldn't look. "Hey. It's all good. Deep breaths. This will heal in a bit."

"B-but why isn't it healed already?"

Hector closed his eyes for a second. "Forget about it, pipsqueak"

"You mean you have other injuries?"

Wait, if the car caught them from the right side...then it actually slammed into Hector's side, didn't it? And Hector wasn't even in the car, when Arnie woke up...because he turned the wheel in Arnie's hands so he would get hit instead of him, reacting with his quick instincts.

"Hex," Arnie said, the realization somehow making his voice steadier. He put his hand on his big brother's good shoulder, their foreheads still slammed together. Hector's breathing came all ragged and harsh, despite his apparent tight calmness. "What's wrong with you?"

Hector leaned back, sitting down on his butt instead of crouching, holding his left side still weirdly away from view. "Just...just some internal stuff that's healing up first...don't worry, I'm fine."

"Do you want to lay down?"

Hector looked back at the car, ignoring him, his face getting paler. "It's a good car though. Not busted that much. I can get the door straightened up and it will need some repaint-"

"Hex, you are freaking me out here!"

"Well, I'm trying really hard not to!"

"Christ, you are stubborn." Arnie lifted himself up on his knees so he could take a proper look. Hector's shirt was black, so he couldn't see if it was bloody. "Show me that."

Hector grumbled something but didn't resist much when Arnie pushed back his shirt.

Arnie grid his teeth together not to gasp. Hector's whole left side was covered in black and blue patches and that was beside the bleeding skin right under his ribs and his side. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but there was quite an amount of blood covering it.

"Ribs broken?" Arnie asked in a strangled noise.

"Probably. Still hurts, but whatever it pierced is all healed up now." Hector watched his expression carefully, jaw clenched.

"And...and your stomach?"

"Nothing internal, man. I'm telling you."

Not anymore.

"You turned the car at the last second so you would be the one to get hit," Arnie said accusingly.

"Actually, I tried to soften the impact with my shadow too. Might have been why it shot me out of the car. Scared the fucker senseless. He drove right off."

"We should call the police. And an ambulance."

"Nah. I don't remember the sign and human authorities wouldn't be happy about a shadow jumping at drivers anyway. Leave it be." His shadow rose while he spoke, running over Hector. Like it was soaking him up in black mud.

Hector's features didn't quite relax, but his shoulders did and there was some colour back in his cheeks. The bruises went from black and blue to dark green and violet, shrinking in size.

Hector took a deeper breath in relief, as if it stopped hurting so much.

"And your hand?" Was there still too much work with his torso that it wasn't healing.

Hector shook his head. "Whatever. We should check if we can get the car going and leave."

"I'm not going behind that wheel again and you can't drive," Arnie protested.

Hector shot him an angry glare. "Then at least prop me up against something."

That had Arnie jumping up to his legs, sliding under Hector's arm to pull him up. He didn't have the strength to actually do it alone, but Hector seemed content with just the symbolic help, dragging himself up with a groan.

They stumbled back to the car, Hector lowering himself to sit against the back door, closing his eyes.

"Anything I can do?" Arnie said, hovering with his hands over Hector's bloody shirt that the wolf pulled back down.

He looked back at the car with unease, not wanting to get inside again. But they should have a water bottle in the back from his side.

With a deep breath, he circled around, finding that the door could be opened. He returned with the water bottle under one arm quickly, the sight of the inner cabin making his skin crawl, although it wasn't even that damaged.

He knelt down next to Hector, offering him the bottle. "Here."

Hector's shadow was healing him, little black needles running up and down his arm and left shoulder. Sweat was covering his face and neck.

Arnie could even see the steam rising from his skin as his shadow worked, the amount of energy releasing warmth into the air.

Hector opened one eye to take the bottle, taking several eager gulps, throat bobbing.

Arnie was just about to relax that they were going to be okay, when Hector suddenly broke off with a cough. He let the bottle fall into Arnie's lap as he pitched to the side, throwing it all back up.

"Hex!" Arnie shifted behind Hector's heaving back, putting a hand on Hector's good shoulder from the front to steady him. His skin was burning to the touch.

Not to mention the water came out pink and reddish in colour.

"Hex, I really think-"

Hector let out a loud throaty retch, shuddering under Arnie's palm.

"We gotta call an ambulance, you are still-"

Hector coughed and burped, straightening himself, hand against his ribs. "N-no, I'm good. That's just...from before." He bit back a groan and he leaned back against the car, shivers rocking his frame.

"We should have you checked out, what if-"

"Arnie. I. Can. Heal. It. I just can't do anything about the blood." Hector closed his eyes, taking short shallow breaths, rubbing at his chest.

Arnie poured some of the water into his hands, placing both palms against Hector's burning cheeks. He sighed contently at the soothing coolness.

"Give me a minute and I can drive us home."

"No. We should call somebody—Delaney or Isaiah," Arnie said resolutely. Seeing how shaken Hector was, he wanted to offer to drive himself, but he couldn't even imagine getting inside the car.

Hector squinted at him with an annoyed expression. "Do something for me?"

Arnie tensed up in preparation for a task. "What is it?"

"Just sit back and breathe." Hector lifted his good arm up, offering a spot against his side.

Arnie huffed, not sure if that was helpful, but obeyed. He pressed himself against Hector's warm frame, smelling of sweat, drying blood and burned tires. After a minute of careful wiggling, so he wouldn't jostle Hector too much, he relaxed against him.

Hector's bone popped back with a loud snap that had his whole body shuddering with the pain and impact. Hector groaned quietly, leaning his head against Arnie's shoulder.

Arnie whined in echo, snaking his hand around Hector's back to hold him closer. "All good now. You will be okay."

Hector said nothing, nose buried between Arnie's neck and shoulder. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his breathing was slowly evening out.

[hedge-witchcraft]

Was thinking back on the best protection/return to sender spell my friend introduced me to and I want to share it with yall.

So this is called a Thunder Stone. No not like the Pokémon thunder stone you can't evolve Eevee's with this shit.

You'll need a couple of things for this.

- a mirror or reflective surface you don't mind destroying

- a big ol' brick or rock

- some strong ass glue

- probably scissors or a hammer too

So! First things first! Smash that mirror into bits. Please for the love of all the Gods don't hurt yourself doing this. If you are a minor and can get supervision for this project great. If you are an adult that needs supervision with sharp things, do that too!

So now that your mirror is in bits you're going to take the big ol' brick or rock you have acquired and you're going to use that strong glue and glue the shards to the brick. Please do not glue your figures together! It is not fun! I've done it with gorilla glue. Mistakes were made.

Remember! Focus on the intent of protection and returning bad energy and ill intent back to sender while you glue shards to your brick.

Once done and dry place your Thunderstone near your front door or in your front garden.

Profit.

Thank you Terri for being an unhinged southern swamp hag you are bc I will forever remember this.

Have fun and be safe, friends!

- Admin Wicca-wicca-slimshady

[joysmercer]

post-season 3

Terri will freely admit that she wasn’t overly enthusiastic about her daughter suddenly deciding (with less than a month’s notice) to spend two weeks of summer at a camp run by her boyfriend and otherwise minimal adult supervision. Yes, a lot of it was because she (selfishly) wanted her daughter to spend that time with her after not being together for half a year, but she was also concerned on a more general level: across the country with no cell phones? The summer before her junior year? Terri would much rather she stay home, focus on SAT prep if anything, and prepare for her future—not go to some theatre workshop where she’s unlikely to learn anything of value. 

It did help to find out that Gina has been cast as the lead in the first-ever stage production of a wildly popular Disney movie and will also be starring in the associated documentary. This is a novel experience, can go on her college apps and résumé, and really, who is she to judge when all expenses are paid in exchange for signing a few release forms? 

Still, she misses the days she could hear about each rehearsal straight from the source instead of random teasers dropped on the Disney+ twitter account, and she especially hates that she has to work and miss Gina’s big debut. By the time intermission is called on the livestream, Terri (ever-so-grateful for the weekend off) is already en-route to California. 

Terri pulls into the Shallow Lake parking lot and spots Gina immediately among the throng of campers checking out and saying their goodbyes. She’s grown at least an inch, Terri realizes with a jolt. Gina is nearly seventeen now, on the brink of adulthood, and the way she’s carrying herself now demonstrates a demeanor entirely different from the teenager she’d dropped off at MSY just a few months ago. Why does time always move so fast with these kids? 

Gina whips around as soon as Terri slams the car door shut, as if she was able to hear it from all the way across the yard, letting out a loud squeal of delight that sends Terri’s heart melting before launching herself straight into her mother’s arms. Terri is instantly reminded of a five-year-old Gina doing the exact same thing at kindergarten pickup.

“Hey, sweet pea,” she whispers, returning her daughter’s tight hug. Some things never change. 

“Mom? What are you even doing here? I thought you were closing on the house? Oh my god, I had no idea—"

“I finished all that yesterday, and since I have a free weekend, I thought we could take a mother-daughter road-trip back home – just like old times.” While their last few moves had been too far apart to drive, she and Gina used to spent nearly every school holiday or long weekend transporting their lives across state lines while eating their fill of fast food and pancakes, touring random obscure roadside attractions, and making some of their fondest memories. 

Gina beams. “I’d love that,” she says, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “I finished packing, actually, so I just need to take care of one thing real quick and we can head out.”

Then she smiles big and wide again, an expression she saves for truly special occasions (like, apparently, 10 hours with her mother in a car), and quickly kisses Terri’s cheek. “Love you, mommy. Be back in a bit.” 

Gina sprints off in the direction of, according to a nearby sign, a “Yurt Locker”. Strange name, Terri thinks. She doesn’t have a chance muse on it (or what the hell it even means) further, though, because someone bellows GENEVIEVE MARIE! so loudly that both Gina and Terri, now at least 20 feet apart, jump at the sound. 

The source of the voice appears a second later—or at least Terri assumes that’s who the curly-haired boy with a shit-eating grin on his face now standing in front of Gina is, given her daughter’s currently crossed arms, flushed cheeks, and, surprisingly, equally playful smile. Terri eyes the boy curiously. Gina doesn’t give out her full name to just anyone and rarely allows anyone to use it (Terri can’t remember the last time she herself even said the word Genevieve, let alone added her middle name to the mix). But Gina seems entirely unfazed now, as if having this boy yell it for all to hear is a regular occurrence. Who is he?

Then she notices the acoustic guitar he’s clutching, and it hits her. Kristoff: Ricky Bowen.

It had been a while since Gina had mentioned Ricky in their weekly FaceTimes. His name had only ever come up in relation to Ashlen’s role of Belle in the spring musical, and even then, it was mostly to complain about his two left feet. If it weren’t for a panicked text conversation on Valentine’s Day (Gina’s teddy bear got lost in transit, long story), Terri would have entirely forgotten about him.

Clearly, not only has his dancing greatly improved this summer (if yesterday was any evidence), but so has his friendship with her daughter.  

Ricky pulls out a set of keys and gestures to the parking lot, fanning his face with his free hand, and that’s when Terri realizes he’s wearing…a pink-and-blue snowsuit. Gina laughs and rolls her eyes at him, clearly teasing him about his ridiculous attire for an LA summer, but when he says something else, Gina suddenly shakes her head, pointing straight at Terri. 

Terri gives a small wave to the kids, and Ricky immediately waves back excitedly.  Okay, then. 

Turning back to Gina, Ricky says something else and Gina smiles shyly and nods. Terri watches as the pair hugs goodbye, a motion that is simultaneously so natural neither think twice about it—falling into a tight embrace that nearly lifts Gina off the ground—but so awkward when they separate that Terri can feel the tension from all the way over here. Okay, then, indeed. 

Ricky meanders toward the bright orange bug almost double-parked in the last slot of the lot. Terri recognizes the car from her driveway last fall – but also remembers Gina mentioning that Ashlen’s boyfriend also drives an orange bug that the three of them and EJ would carpool to school in, leaving Terri to wonder which possibility is weirder: that Ricky and his friend got matching ugly vehicles together, or that Ricky transported his friend’s car across state lines for two weeks and his friend actually agreed to it. 

There isn’t much she knows about Ricky Bowen, actually, except that he has an apparent penchant for nabbing lead roles out from under everyone else’s noses and—surprisingly—actually justifying those casting choices. Gina’s scene partners are often so dry she has to work double-time to make the chemistry believable. Last night, however, Ricky showed a level of talent that nearly matched her own daughter’s in the way he was able to hold the audience captive even without Gina on stage with him. There was one solo of his in particular that had actually caught Terri’s attention (she had taken the opportunity to answer some emails) when, right at the end, he suddenly directed the final line of the song away from the audience and into the wings: you’re what I know about love, he sang, straight to Ana. Straight to Gina. It was not only a genius move but one she doubted he was directed to do—he must have come up with it himself. 

Still, something about him sets Terri on edge. Questionable decisions (seriously, snowsuit?) aside, he has the demeanor of a class clown, someone who stays while it’s fun but bolts when things get hard. It makes Terri uneasy, especially since it’s clear that this is someone Gina cares deeply about. 

“Sorry about that.” Gina’s back, suitcases in hand, shaking Terri out of her reverie. “I had to tell Ricky I didn’t need a ride first.” 

“Oh, I thought EJ was giving you a ride home,” Terri says, taking one of the suitcases from Gina. 

A tense silence. “Mom, I told you we broke up, remember?” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Terri quickly assures her. Gina had called early yesterday morning from Kourtney’s phone, relating the news with a quick “it was a long time coming, we’re still friends, prom was super fun otherwise, see you soon” and hanging up before Terri could even get an I’m sorry out. “I just assumed you’d keep the same arrangement since Ashlen and your other friends are there, too.” She winces. “I see how silly that sounds out loud, though.” 

“Yeah.” More silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Terri asks gently. 

Gina shakes her head no emphatically. “I told you, it wasn’t really a surprise. I’m fine.”

“Okay, okay, got the hint.” Terri laughs, sighing internally with relief when Gina gives her a (albeit watery) smile. She opens the car trunk and shoves the suitcase inside.

“So, why was Ricky wearing a snowsuit?” Terri asks as they settle in and buckle up, unable to keep the question to herself any longer. 

“Oh, he wasn’t supposed to be at camp at all, and showed up without a ton of clothes, so he mostly borrowed from others I think, and got pizza all over his laundry yesterday, too.” she giggles slightly, then continues, “plus the guys dumped ice water on themselves last night and he put is wet towel on top of his open suitcase, like an idiot.” She says all this with the nonchalance of someone explaining 1+1=2, not…whatever she just said about sudden enrollment, pizza, and ice water. 

“That doesn’t explain the snowsuit,” Terri says, now even more confused. 

“Rumor has it he was supposed to go skiing with his ex? he didn’t say, though." Gina shrugs. 

“that girl Jamie’s working with?” 

“No.” Gina doesn’t elaborate. 

“Well, regardless, he’s very talented,” Terri supplies. “I did enjoy that one ballad of his yesterday, the one with the guitar and lights.” 

“Oh.” Gina smiles softly, almost to herself. “I liked that one too.” 

Terri’s stomach twists, like they’re about to go barreling off a cliff they can’t see and can’t stop. 

“Is he doing the fall musical as well?”

“I dunno. Probably. It’s his senior year, he won’t have many more chances.” 

“I didn’t realize he’s a year ahead of you,” Terri says, surprised. “How are his college apps coming along?”

“Mom,” Gina groans. “It’s literally summer vacation, and believe it or not, I didn’t ask. He probably hasn’t even started thinking about them yet.” 

“Fair,” Terri says, although, internally, she disagrees. if Ricky were truly serious about his future, he would have had his summer plans set in place long ago, and a solid school list by now. 

I can tell you like him, Gigi, she thinks. And then, suddenly, I wish you didn’t. 

It’s a strange thought, and a foreign one—Gina has yet to make a friend that Terri straight-up disapproves of.  What Ricky does with his life is really none of her business, and Gina’s a smart girl—she won’t go rushing into poor decisions even if her friends are walking bundles of chaos. Plus, from the little she’s seen, it’s clear he cares about Gina, too. Maybe as much as she does him. 

But Gina in a relationship is…different. Gina in a relationship was more carefree, a little less focused. She begged to go to prom despite having an exam the next Monday, she shifted her summer plans around for a camp she showed no interest in before, and she prioritized FaceTimes and texting every night over reading or sleeping. there were no lasting negative repercussions for any of this, but if there was ever a time for Gina to conserve her extra energy for something worthwhile, it’s now. 

Ricky a good friend, Terri decides. As friends, he keeps her grounded—but anything more than that? She’s just not sure. 

[highvern]

Writing Prompts

“I like you. So much.”

“Are you in love with me?”

“You’re gonna say something stupid, aren’t you?”

“I think I’m going a little crazy.”

“No. I’m not going to give you a bite because I know you’re not gonna like it.”

“I want to know exactly what you think you’re doing right now.”

“We all die eventually.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m actually going to kill you.”

“Why are you wearing a disguise?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Stop smiling at me like that.”

“Did you just slap my ass?”

“I haven’t seen you in three days and that's all you say to me?”

“How do you even survive without some form of adult supervision?”

“I’m not afraid of you. Okay, maybe a little bit.”

“I kind of…don’t want us to be a secret anymore.”

“Well I know that dipshit.”

“If you buy one more throw pillow I swear to god.”

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“What are you wearing?”

“I invite you to kiss my ass.”

“You don’t get to say that and walk away.”

“We should get married.”

“I’m a fucking delight, okay?”

“Take my blanket one more time. See what happens.”

“What the hell is her problem?”

“I'm not the best at this.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this but…”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my hair?”

“What if I drown?”

"We shouldn't be doing this.”

"Can we please leave?"

"You're cute.”

"This is humiliating"

“Valentine’s Day sucks.”

“It was the best night of my life.”

“Are those flashcards?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s actually really hot. Do it again.”

“You forgot what today is. Didn’t you?”

“Very proud of you.”

“You smell like a dirty dish towel.”

“I have a PhD, I know what I’m talking about.”

“You are actually the most insane person I’ve ever met. They should study your brain.”

“Would you still love me if…?”

“Oh, come here already.”

“I’m both scared and turned on by that idea.”

“So you lied to me?”

“What about, ‘You’re always right and have never been wrong ever’?”

“Part of me wants to ask. The other part knows that finding out might actually be more disturbing.”

“Are you on drugs?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

“Baby, cover your ears for a second.”

“Do you think we’ll be good parents?”

“This is actually the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Of course I love you.”

“Without me?”

“I lost it.”

“Well I’ve been telling people you’re my boyfriend/girlfriend.”

“What are you doing?”

“Why are you crying?”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t be weird.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“I bet you can’t…”

“We’re too old for this.”