#he got to be happy for too long now hes deranged

[waitingformysandman]

Remember Me

Part 3

Summary: After years of being separated from your love, James (Bucky) Buchanan Barnes, you finally find him again. But he’s different. Too different. Not only does he forget himself but you and Steve as well. Can he get his memories back?

‼️Trigger Warnings will be noted if needed at the beginning of chapter.‼️

Triggers: reader not taking care of themselves, starving, self deprication, Steve Rodgers being an ass

Use of Y/N in this chapter. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: for anyone actually keeping up with this I’m so sorry this chapter took so long😂

“Of course you can stay with me Sargent. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He smiled that beautiful smile. The one you thought you’d never see again but were blessed to see so many times in the past hour.

“Don’t smile at me like that.” You blushed.

“Like what?” He asked. Genuinely confused as it was how he smiled at everything that made him genuinely happy.

“Like that. That smile you always do that gets us into trouble. The one you know would get us into trouble here. You know the one.”

There wasn’t a specific smile. It was just him. He was so unabashedly happy to be back in your presence no matter how little he remembered it hadn’t even occurred to him that he probably looked a little deranged.

He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. Literally.

He frowned.

You furrowed your brow from the sudden change of Bucky’s emotions.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. It didn’t help that he was looking at the ground.

“I don’t remember the last time I smiled.”

He looked up at you again, eyes watering.

You tentatively reached around his waist with one arm before reaching around with the other. Just in case.

He stood rigidly. His arms to his sides and breathing heavily. You pressed your whole body to him hoping your closeness would ease his tension like it used to. But it didn’t. Instead, it made everything worse.

With his one arm he wrenched you away from himself and his once gorgeous blue eyes were now steel. He wasn’t there anymore. He almost looked like him. The one that haunted your dreams now. The Winter Soldier. But he wasn’t. The Soldier wasn’t quite there. But he was there enough.

“Leave.”

Your head snapped up. Unsure you heard him correctly you asked him to repeat himself.

“I said leave. Stop waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.”

You gaped at him. Everything was ok. He was fine a minute ago. You were fixing your relationship, getting to know each other again. It was wonderful. But now.

You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to have a relationship if it was going to be like this every time you got close to him. It wouldn’t work. In no reality would that work.

“B-Bucky?” you stuttered

“I SAID GET OUT!”

He shoved you away and took hold of your wrist leading you out of the hut and quite literally threw you out.

You landed on your hands and knees with tears in your eyes.

Steve didn’t see much but he saw you get thrown out. He ran as fast as he could to get to you.

“Hey. What happened? You alright?”

You slowly got to your knees and looked at your hands. You started picking out the gravel that had embedded itself in your palms.

You slowly and calmly looked Steve directly in the eyes.

“He’s gone Steve. There isn’t anything we can do.”

Steve flinched.

“What are you talking about ‘He’s gone’? What’s going on? Y/N what happened in there!”

You got up off your knees and found Shuri near the edge of the lake.

“Thank you for all your help Shuri. I know you’ve done everything you can. But I think it’s too late. He’s gone.”

And that’s when you broke down. You couldn’t fight the tears.

You found Steve beside you and buried yourself in his chest. If Bucky wouldn’t hold you at least you knew your friend would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Weeks Later

Steve was never good at speaking to women. Saying hello in and of itself was a general hardship for him.

Except for you. Since Bucky had found you all those years ago you and Steve had become good friends. Steve was grateful for that.

Steve couldn’t talk to women. But he could talk to you. You weren’t just a woman. You were his best friend and his other best friend’s…girlfriend? Fiancé?

Whatever you were to Bucky he wasn’t quite sure. But you were important enough that he had bought you a ring and you had worn it. Even after thinking he had been dead for 70 years.

He wasn’t sure if Bucky was still there anymore. If anything that had happened in Wakanda was anything to go by. Steve would bring him back though. For you.

As he wandered the halls of the Avenger’s compound alone with his thoughts Steve decided to try to visit you again. Even though you probably wouldn’t see him.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone. He hadn’t seen you leave your room or even order anything to your room. He had asked FRIDAY if you had been at least eating but you had instructed FRIDAY not to tell anyone and that “If it’s Blondie asking, tell him I’ll eat when I feel like it.”

He’d been getting that same message for months. He hoped you were still alive at this point.

Steve stopped at your door and took a breath before knocking.

Knock knock knock.

He waited a minute.

He was greeted with the deafening silence of the empty compound.

But he soon heard a rustling coming from the other side of the door. And then the sound of feet shuffling closer and closer to the door until it slowly creaked the tiniest bit open.

He was shocked. You looked awful.

“Hey Steve.”

That was it. 2 weeks of silence, not knowing if you were taking care of yourself, if you were dead and all he got was ‘Hey Steve’? Nope not ok.

“‘Hey Steve?’ That’s it? Really Y/N? That’s all I get? HEY FUCKING STEVE?!”

You flinched. You knew you deserved it. Hiding in your room for the past 2 weeks. He tried to help you. You just wanted to die.

“Yeah. Just hey Steve.”

You started to shut the door but he smashed his hand between the door and the jamb before you could close it all the way and he forced the door completely open.

You couldn’t wither away and lose a grotesque amount of weight like an average person as a super soldier. But you still managed to somehow look like it.

You motioned to the box by the couch in the living room.

“They sent me his things the day after we got back. Well, his backpack and the clothes on his back.”

Steve looked at you warily. It explained the slight look of insanity. You missed him. Too much.

You wished it was him in your room. Not a box of clothes and backpack of memories.

He needed the backpack. Wherever he was.

“You should go Steve.”

“What do you mean I should go? You need help! A therapist. Something!”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered “it’s not proper.”

“THIS ISN’T THE 1940’s Y/N! BUCKY DOESN’T HAVE TO BE HERE FOR IT TO BE ‘PROPER’. AND GUESS WHAT? YOU WEREN’T EVEN MARRIED! HE HADN’T EVEN PROPOSED YET SO IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN PROPER ANYWAY!”

You knew he was right. You mentally rolled your eyes. He was always right.

“Ya know what? Fine. Sit here and wallow in your pain and his bloodied tattered clothes and books of faded memories. It’s not going to help bring him back!”

And with those last stinging words Steve left. Making sure to slam the door behind him like the dramatic ass he is.

[mangk0]

INFLUENCE

photo ref here <3

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[donatellawritings]

thoughts on best friends dad!rafe!

introducing bfd!rafe & dolly!reader

there was pathetically sick part of rafe that got off on knowing that he still had it — especially with such a young girl like you who was an absolute knockout, absolutely eager and willing to bend to his every whim. he had watched you bloom into the young woman you were today, but the moment you turned eighteen, you became a bit more forward with your intentions. from wearing skimpy bikinis whenever you joined his sweet son on family trips, to the thin satin dresses that tented with your hard nipples on thursday dinners — you made sure to always look your best for mr. cameron.

but what made rafe melt was the way you were so immersed in him, you completely dismissed how his son was head over heels in love with you — and you can call rafe a sick man, but he always craved being the center of attention, no matter the costs. his little boy would just have to move on, not that he ever stood a chance against his overpowering and domineering father.

so, when rafe’s son asked if you could spend the summer at tannyhill, rafe was eager to oblige, masking his reasoning with ‘wanting his next of kin to be happy at home’, despite his true intentions of having you surrender all of yourself to him, now running rampant is his tainted and somewhat deranged mind.

on the first night of your extended stay, you found yourself sat beside your best friend’s father, your tooth-achingly sweet and doting best friend seated directly across from you, completely oblivious to the way his father stared at you with that same sense of longing and desire.

you liked mr. cameron — he was always so sweet to you, he bought you the finest birthday presents, complimented your girly, but borderline inappropriate outfits, and he always seemed to know exactly what you needed at any given time.

and maybe, just maybe there was a part of you that knew he felt the same way about you too.

carelessly leaning over the dining table, you fought back a knowing smirk as your swollen tits bulged against the hem of your sleeveless romper, the ribbed fabric clinging to your warm frame as you reached for a piece of bread, “thank you for having me, mr. cameron,” you sang, your sweet voice all light and airy as you glanced at the older man, your heart jumping as you caught his eyes stuck on the fat of your plush ass cheeks that managed to swallow the romper.

masking his faux pas with a forced clearing of his throat, mr. cameron licks over his lips with a smile, “well — ahem, f’course, my wife and i really appreciate how good of a friend you’ve been to our boy, isn’t that right, honey?”

rafe knew exactly what he was doing, his trained blue eyes carefully taking in the way your plump smile faltered into a brief frown and how the sparkle in your eyes dimmed. your bubble of security had been popped in that very moment as you tugged on the top hem of your romper, your nailed fingers lightly grazing over the baby pink bow that had been sewn between the valley of your breasts.

your oh so pretty and fake smile only intensified as mrs. cameron sauntered into the dining room. you absolutely hated how your shared likeness towards mr. cameron had soured your perception of the clueless woman who still viewed you to be the daughter she always wanted.

placing a manicured hand atop of mr. cameron’s shoulder, you watch as the woman leans down to capture rafe’s lips in a quick kiss, “mhm. you know that we love having you over, sweetie. you keep us on our toes, dolly” she laughs, gently nudging the apple of your cheek as she makes her way to her seat, directly across from mr. cameron.

dolly — the dear nickname that you’d been given by mr. cameron, you’d always been so wet behind the ears, dainty, and entirely too vulnerable. but, it didn’t feel right coming from her.

answering with a short nod, you are a bit too eager to change the topic of discussion, a silent huff of stress leaving your faded plum stained lips as your best friend furrows his brows at your standoffish behavior, “y’okay?” he mouths, softly nudging your shin with the tip of his converse.

“i’m okay,” you mouth back, a soft smile on your pillowy lips as you steal a quick glance at mr. cameron who catches your sneaky gaze, sending you a quick wink as he takes a sip from his glass of chilled red wine.

licking over your dry lips, you swallow thickly, popping a warm and fluffy piece of bread into your needy mouth as mr. cameron’s long and slender leg brushes against yours. fighting back a smile, you remain silent as mrs. cameron enlightens the table about her new endeavors at cameron development, your eyes glazed over as you quietly hook your leg over his firm thigh.

honing your focus into chewing the piece of bread in your mouth, you watch from the corner of your bambi eyes as rafe inconspicuously slides a large hand over the smooth skin of your waxed leg.

now lost in the sensation of mr. cameron’s hand gently kneading soothing circles around your ankle, your eyes widen as rafe’s voice cuts into your dazed state, “y’seem pretty sleepy over there, dolly — everything a’ight?” he questions knowingly, his buzzed head tilted to the side as his pink lips part in anticipation of your next words.

feverishly nodding, you send rafe a forced courteous smile, “yes, mr. cameron — just sleepy,” you answer politely.

returning his attention to his son and wife, rafe keeps a tight hold on your small ankle, the cold bite of his wedding band digging into your warmed and bronze skin. you always loved to prance around tannyhill barefoot, you’re pretty pink toes on full display, ever since your younger days.

and rafe was painfully reminded of that, a feigned smile of interest on his handsomely structured face as he gave your cute little toes a gentle squeeze, every now and again.

all while his poor son and unsuspecting wife sat and ate their overly priced steak dinner.

[gay-dorito-dust]

remember when you did the HSR hurt/comfort reader getting injured? i absolutely NEED one with gallagher, gepard and a character of your choice. you dont have to do this right away! just been thinking about it ‼️

Blade:

Feral. Absolutely feral.

This man gets somehow even more deranged the moment you get injured.

He’s pretty much foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog the moment his eyes noticed that you were unresponsive. If anything seeing you borderline catatonic tore Blade apart in the most painful way possible, just as his desperation to get to you before anyone else could do further harm became his mission.

Bodies were going to pile up real fast as Blade practically glides across the battlefield with grace, precision and a determination to eliminate any and all that stood to stop him from getting to you.

The destruction Blade left behind in that moment was unlike anything anyone has ever seen and Blade became a lot more dangerous man than before, many have reasons to suspected that he might’ve been holding back, and it wasn’t until now did they truly believe that their theory had weight.

After getting you away from everything Blade stayed incredibly close as you got patched up, going so far as to growl and snap at anyone or anything that he believed posed a threat to you or wasn’t doing their job right; he’d even pull out his sword as an silent threat/warning as to what was to come should you get worse rather better.

‘Blade I’m fine.’ You tell him, trying to stop him from killing the poor doctor who had just stitched up the last of your wounds. ‘I’m going to be fine, just please for my sake don’t threaten people who are just doing their job.’

‘I don’t trust them.’ Was all he said while holding your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

‘The wounds were too deep Blade,’ you began, ‘trust them or don’t but that doesn’t change the fact that they saved me.’ Blade didn’t say anything after that but from the clenching of his jaw and the conflicting emotions flickering in eyes, it was clear that Blade was still very much conflicted about everything.

Needless to say that after you had properly healed from all your wounds, Blade became unbearably overprotective of you much to your dismay, but if it was going to silence his doubts for good then you were more then willing to leave him to his own devices.

Gallagher:

Is more concerned about your well-being and getting you the medical attention that you required than anything else. He could have the perpetrator sniffed out within minutes, but would rather spend those precious minutes making sure you were okay and that you were going to be okay by medical professionals.

He doesn’t care if he gets shit for not having his priorities straight by Sunday, the winged cunt could fuck off and die for all Gallagher cared, because at the end of the day he was always going to choose to take care of you over his job.

He’d naturally give the job of hunting down the perpetrator to someone else of equal rank while he decides to step away from everything to take care of you as the doctors instructed. For there was just no way in hell would Gallagher abandon you when you were bed bound, it just didn’t sit right with him.

‘You alright sweetheart?’ He’d ask as he helps you sit up in bed. ‘I’m okay Gallagher thank you for everything.’ You said, smiling up at him. ‘It’s not a problem.’ Gallagher replies as he sits on the edge of your bed, flashing you a smile. ‘As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about.’ You furrowed your brows. ‘Won’t Sunday be on your case for slacking off on the job?’

‘Maybe but who cares when that winged rat has been slowly loosing control of everything for a while now.’ The brunette said as he then shrugged his shoulders. ‘But all I care about right is making sure that you’re happy, healthy but above all, safe.’

‘But I’m already those things regardless.’ You said, squeezing his hand as he chuckled, kissing the side of your head softly. ‘Then I’ll just have to keep up the good work then hmm?’ He says cheekily before winking and lifting himself off of the bed to fetch you food and medicine for your recovery.

Gepard:

Much like Gallagher, Gepard is more concerned either your well being more so then anything else because to Gepard, you and your safety were his number one top priory.

However after seeing you get injured, he feels as though he had failed you or wasn’t fast enough to get to you, and will let it eat away at him for a long time too before you have to step in and remind him why that was absolute bullshit.

Afterwards Gepard would treat you like porcelain or glass whether he was aware of it or not. You understood why but after a while when you began to get better you’d have to start telling him to cut it out.

You’d might to sit him down and gently tell him that he didn’t always have to treat you as though you were going to break after every minor inconvenience. Gepard would immediately go red in the face and apologise for over stepping, but you’d only smile and hold his burning face in your hands and pressing kisses into his skin, which would only make his face burn even redder then before.

He’s just a sweet soul who’d do anything to protect his loved ones and takes it rather personal when he couldn’t when he shouldn’t, but that’s just the way he was and you loved him for it very, very much and you remind him of that every single day. After all at the end of the day Gepard only wants you to be safe and heal at an acceptable rate, he would even go as far as to monitor everything closely so that there be no room for any possible health complications.

Seeing you injured had made Gepard more scared more than he’d like to admit, and he would do anything and everything in his power to prevent it from happening ever again, because for as long as Gepard was still breathing he’d dedicate himself to being your shield for the rest of your lives together.

And that’s a hundred present guaranteed.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Burn

Yandere!Husband x gn!Reader

warnings: abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, manipulative tendencies, gaslighting, murder, gore

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It burns, so agonizingly much, that uncertainty about this whole ordeal crept up your spine and settled in your chest.

Was this the right thing to do? To flee? It echoed in the emptiness that took over your head. It was perplexing and uncomfortable. You shouldn't feel empathy for him. He was crazy, deranged! Gone, a maniac, a bastard—

But maybe he was innocent and you were running away from the ghosts hunting you.

He was all that was left of your family. You didn't want to do this, you wanted him with you, loving and sweet, but it seemed that fate had different plans for the two of you. It seems that fate didn't favour you.

He had wormed himself into your life—then into your sacred family bonds, destroying what was already fragile. The mask he wore was that of a kindred spirit that sought for love, yet you never knew better than to believe the artificially crafted facade.

Prior he was an orphan, abandoned by his mother at six, which admittedly tugged at your heartstrings, even more so after learning the horrible foster parents, which was followed by the straight up ignorant adoptive family that took him in only for prestige matters.

So it wasn't that you didn't understand his desire for family, and you were even happy for him! Glad he found love in yours, yet all your hopeful dreams of finally peace settling in had vanished the moment the first of your relatives cut you off. Then a second followed, a third, a fourth until even your mom shunned you, refusing to see you any longer. They absolutely adored your husband but hated your guts.

However he didn't seem to hold the same adoration for them, no, he didn't even possess an ounce of sympathy with them as he watched them turn to ashes Infront of his very own eyes, laughing, like the maniac he was.

“Love!” he would jump up and down you remembered, seemingly over the moon by your dad praising him or your sister gifting him something meaningless as a cookie.

After he had burned down everything holy to you, he had just slipped back into your shared bed, stinking horribly of that kind of smell that reached your nose every time you left your omelette too long on the stove.

You hadn't understood then, but you did now, that that smell was foreshadowing to the petrifying news that had reached you the next day.

Everything spiralled out of your control after that day. You were completely scattered, forgetful, permanently teary-eyed, clumsy and visibly distraught.

So it started with your inability to hold up your job, which made him offer you to stay at home, while he financed you both. He was so devilishly sweet, messaging your shoulders when you were completely stiff, guiding you through breakdowns, cooking for you, feeding you. You hadn't know how you got so lucky with him.

However things became odd quickly, your friends seemed to disappear one by one, their numbers blocked, deleted or erased from existence. You were unbelievably mad, was this because of your new miserable state—the friends that swore to go through thick and thin with you, leaving you in your most vulnerable times—how could they!

Although you were burning with anger, even that was quickly forgotten thanks to him. He was your absolute everything, your entire world and you were much obviously his. You two were a match made in heaven—or at least that's what you believed until that one phone call.

“Stacey?—”

“You have to get out of there! He isn't what he seems to be— your husband, he’s crazy! He threatened me! If I didn't stop being in contact with you then he would have also murdered me like he did with your family—” your heard your friend over the phone, voice unusually frail, breaths laboured with sniffling in the background.

Your heart leaped in your chest at the sound of her frantic claims, completely unbelievable and baffling, even if your trust for her had completely evaporated, uncertainty still poisoned you and infiltrated your mind like a sickness.

Nevertheless you did end the call before she could spew anymore nonsense, sealing her terrible fate, because unbeknownst to you, that was the last time she would ever talk to anyone.

Things didn't feel normal anymore after that, suspiciousness spread through you, gnawing at your already highly sensitive nerves, you instability just making you waver back and forth from completely denying the unapparent truth and panicking that perhaps it was true. She was your friend for years after all, what reason did she have to lie?

That was until you found Stacey’s childhood diary in his possession with dried splatter of blood decorating it—as if this wasn't terrifying enough what met you on the inside made you drop the book, completely mortified and stunned into silence.

Every entry that contained your name scribbled over with hearts, anything that had to do with you underlined, things that you liked circled in like a madman.

You were terrified to say the least—she was right, she was right and you didn't believe her.

Tears welled up in your eyes and before you knew it, your feet carried you out of your shared home, still in your PJ's with slippers adorning your feet.

Which leads to this moment in the present.

Unfortunately for you, he had knowingly bought a house with your inheritance, in the middle of nowhere. You were stumbling over twigs, leaves crushing beneath your weight and before you knew it, you were running.

Yet you did forget one crucial aspect—running didn't help when he could track you down with the GPS clipped under your skin so subtly you didn't even realise he had done so.

Bang.

Pain shot through your thigh, an excruciating amount, making you instantly stumble, before tumbling down, face first into the wet earth, crying out in pain.

Blood seeped out from where he shot you, painting the forest floor a warning crimson. You tried to crawl, you attempted to flee, but all was for nothing, no one and nothing could have tear you two apart, even if it was you.

Fingers roughly whipped your head back, scalp burning from the abuse.

“There you are, love.” he spat out, the familiar warmth gone replaced by an indefinite disdain.

“You saw it, huh? You learned about everything I did for you and that's how you thank me? By running away just cuz’ I committed some petty crimes?” he shook your head violently, before shoving your face into the mud. Before he ripped your head out of the earth, starting to fall into a pattern, repeating it over and over again till your vision faded with only his words ringing into your ears, as blood ran down your presumably broken nose, eyes swelling with unshed tears of a gruesome future that awaited you.

“You're weak. And dumb. But don't you worry, I will take care of you. I will love you, look after you, clean up each mess you make, be there to rock you back and forth when you have one of your meltdowns again. So don't worry your stupid little head about anything,

just trust me, love.”

[fettuccin-e]

Fires In Those Eyes

Kinktober Day 11: Seduction

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), fingering, unprotected piv (pls wrap it irl omg please), joel is whipped, but also so is reader, degradation, possessive sex, joel's filthy mouth again my bad (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: Second Joel fic of the month! Hooray! This time they actually get naked and get down and dirty so double hooray. I tend to just write Jackson!era Joel just because I want him to be happy okay. Also day 10 will be up eventually so sorry about that lol (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Most of the time, Joel doesn’t think you’re even trying to seduce him like you do. You’re just you. Perfect, soft you, the woman he fell in love with when he didn’t think he was even capable of it anymore. And God, it’s embarrassing with how much he wants you all the fucking time. When you’re on patrol with him, when you’re making dinner for him, you, and Ellie, in the house that you managed to make a home. He feels deranged with the way he wants to tear your clothes off and fuck you until you scream for him at only the drop of a hat. And you’re not even trying.

You’re trying now, though.

He can tell, from the moment you step inside the house, peeling off your gloves and looking at him with a glint in your eyes that has his breath hitching and cock bulging in his jeans.

“Ellie’s sleeping over at Dina’s tonight,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over the planes of his chest. There are flames in your eyes, and Joel feels like he’s burning. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his voice rougher than he means it, but you only lick your lips and look up at him through your lashes. You look like pure fuckin’ sin. 

You perch up on your tip-toes, leaning close enough that your lips brush the skin of his ear. “What are you going to do about it?” you whisper, and Joel can’t help how he growls.

He’s got you slammed up against the wall before he even knows what he’s done, tearing your coat off your shoulders and letting it fall carelessly to the floor. You pull your shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him, before you lick into his mouth in the messiest, dirtiest kiss he’s ever had. You claw at his back, rubbing against him like a damn cat in heat, and Joel feels lightheaded with how fast blood rushes to his cock. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he rasps against your lips, and you whine so sweetly for him.

“Need you to fuck me, God, I need it so bad, Joel.” Your hand comes down to squeeze the bulge of his cock through his jeans, and fuck, you’ve never been this bold, never taken him like you are right now. 

“C’mon, baby,” he groans, “let’s go to bed.” But you’re shaking your head, your deft hand unzipping him and freeing him from the confines of his clothes.

“No, no,” you whine, “‘S too far, Joel, need you now.” 

You look up into his eyes as you sink to your knees before him, and Joel’s vision blurs at the edges when you lick a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length. He has to brace his hands on the wall as you take him into your mouth, hot wet heat engulfing him as you sink deep. The tight clutch of your throat has him groaning, his hips pitching forward.

You grab onto his hips like you love it, sucking hard enough to make the breath punch out of his lungs. Your head bobs obscenely, your hair brushing his thighs every time to take him to the root. His knees tremble, struggling to hold himself up as you suck his cock like you’ll never get the chance again.

“Baby,” he groans, and you pop off of him, grinning with that same fire in your eyes that makes him want to rip you apart on him. Fuck, he thinks you want him to do just that. 

The way he gets to the floor, gets you on your hands and knees for him, is a goddamn mystery. It can stay a mystery, a blur in his memory for all he cares, because when he gets your pants off, peeling your panties halfway down your thighs, baring your beautiful, glistening pussy to his gaze, none of it fucking matters anymore. All that matters is the way his fingers drive into you, reckless, insistent, hammering into you so hard you see stars.

“Fuck, honey, you’re drippin’,” Joel mutters, and your face burns, even as your hips hump back into his hand on pure instinct. “She’s just gonna suck me right in,” he says, twisting his hand as his fingers spread you apart in a way that makes you sob.

And he’s right, he’s so right. Sinking into you is a goddamn revelation, hot and tight around him as you scrabble at the floor for purchase, moaning and pushing your hips back against him. Your pussy lets him in so easy, so perfect, and he shudders as your body clutches at him like a vice, hot and wet and at his fucking mercy.

“God damn it, baby,” he groans, thrusting into you to the fucking hilt and relishing in the way it makes you scream. “You’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.”

“Oh God,” you gasp, even as it feels like your pussy is being stretched to its fucking limit. “All day, fuck- I’ve been wet for you all fucking day.” His hips slap against your ass so hard, pressing in so deep that all you can do is gasp for air and fucking take it.

“Yeah, honey? Needed this cock all fuckin’ day? Comin’ home just to fuck me like a goddamn slut,” he rasps, and God, it’s true. His cock in your cunt is all you need, all you ever need. Even with the wooden floor digging into your achy knees, your panties tangled around your thighs, fuck, this is all you’ve needed since you woke up this morning. He’s right, you’re a whore for the way he fucks you.

“Yes, yes, oh my fucking- Joel,” you cry out as he hammers into that sweet spot buried deep inside, not letting you breathe for a second.

“This what you needed, sweetheart? Needed me to fuck you on the goddamn floor like we’re fuckin’ animals?” He presses a hand to the small of your back, shaping you into an obscene arch that has you getting tighter around him, practically choking his cock with your pretty pussy. “Such a fuckin’ whore,” he snarls. “Who can fuck you like this?”

“You, Joel,” you cry, tears dripping from your eyes onto the floor. He pulls your hair into his hand, yanking your head back and pulling your body onto his cock with every thrust. The sounds of your cunt smack, smack, smacking against his body are sticky and wet and fucking debauched.

“That’s fuckin right,” he says, sounding about as wrecked as you feel. “Only me. I own this fuckin’ pussy, right baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes,” you’re gasping, clawing at the wooden floor, and Joel fucking chuckles behind you, deep and dark and primal.

“C’mon, girl,” he rasps, and he snakes a thick hand under your heaving body to rub a calloused finger along your throbbing clit, and you scream. “Squeeze this cock with this slutty little cunt. Show me who owns you.”

And you can’t refuse him, you can’t, not when your body is already locking up with your orgasm. Your pussy strangles his cock, practically forcing his orgasm out of him, and he snarls as he fills you up with his cum. He takes his hand from your hair to wrap it around your chest, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. You tremble in his hold as spasms rock through you.

When you finally settle, he presses kisses to your neck, and you let out soft giggles in reply, running your fingers through his hair.

“Mm, I need a nap,” you sigh, sinking against him. You gasp as Joel nips harshly at your skin.

“Nuh uh, baby. You started this,” he rasps, dark with promise. “And I’m the one that’s gonna fuckin' finish it.”

[ananiel]

Imagine being able to see spirits. You are able to see animals and humans walking (or floating) around, hearing how they talk and how they speak, talking about how they wish they could see their family or talking about how they want nothing more but justice

You are able to touch and pet, to speak and to interact with any of them, and when people touch your bare skin, they can see spirits too, which caused You to always wear gloves and long sleaves, as well as a mask

Now, the basic answear for this Power would be to become an oracle or some crazy witch of the Town. But what if You become a Detective. Yep, a young Detective that suddenly rised into the favour of the people for being able to solve cases that are a century old (mainly because the beheaded victim cries in Your bathroom at 3:36 am sharp every night)

So You live like this, in a happy way with your gift

Logical would be to keep your gift hidden too, so that people don't try to kill You for knowing to much

You met him on a random day, thinking nothing of him while a dog spirit was hiding behind your leg. He seemed friendly, and eager to befriend You as well, almost honored to be in your presence

Now spirits upon spirits whisper his name, talk about how deranged and how he was the one who killed them, or played part into their death. Spirits that got very fond of You would tell You to stay away from that man

You clearly followed their advice, and distanced yourself from him. But he isn't dumb, he caught up to it, and now, he tries to figure out what has gotten You to hate him so much

Surely... He has been studing You for ages, talking You day and night to figure out the best personality to just steal You away only for himself. What failed in his plan?

He asked himself, oh well, guess he'd have to take You in a more forcefull attempt

[kitasgloves]

comforting your insecure bf

part 2 . part 3 . part 4

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ Kageyama Tobio

Your long-time boyfriend Kageyama Tobio was adored by many for his outlandish talent as a setter in volleyball and for his handsome looks. You weren't naive to the people developing adorable crushes on the athlete and the people thirsting over him online. It appeared to you that Kageyama was contented with what he has in life at the moment.

However, you were oblivious to your boyfriend's surprising confession of his insecurity. You have no clue that Kageyama has been harboring it for a long period. He tells you that it was perhaps linked to his high school trauma of being left behind, he developed a thought that he wasn't good enough when he was a teenager. That's why he pushed everybody away and focused on volleyball, he believed he wasn't good enough to make anyone stay.

Now, that was a load of bullshit. Although it's sad to think Kageyama still felt this way until his adulthood despite having a secure life, you weren't going to let him believe further that he was unworthy of being loved. Your boyfriend was lovable, he has adorable ways of showing you affection, and he's deeply honest and comfortable with you.

"Ahhh, [Name] slow down, please"

Kageyama lets out a breathless moan as you pumped his cock vigorously in front of the bedroom mirror. His athletic shorts were pulled down and his shirt exposed his toned abs. You settled from behind on the bed, burying your face against his neck as your warm breath tickles his skin. Kageyama desperately grips the bedsheets throwing his head back while you jerked him off.

"Baby you sound so pretty right now"

"Please [Name], want to cum"

"I'll make you cum if you stop telling yourself that you're unlovable"

The setter turns his head to you but you force him to look into the mirror. He gazes at his disheveled reflection, panting with your hand now massaging his balls.

"Tobio, you're so sweet, kind, and patient"

"You make me so happy in so many ways"

"You're better than what you think you are. If you were so unlovable, then I wouldn't have stayed would I, love?"

You whisper tenderly against his ear. He was hypnotized by your words and the way your hand around his cock continuously pushed him to the edge. His heart threatened to burst out of his ribcage.

"You're so fucking hot too. I like it when you moan, Tobio"

"I like the way you kiss me when we fuck"

"I like how your cock makes me cum every time"

Kageyama swallows as his head grows dizzy, his release is a few strokes away and you can feel it. His hips begin to buck against your hand as he watches himself fall apart through the mirror. When you cooed his name, he goes slack as cum shoots out of his cock, coating both your hand and his abdomen. He collapses in your arms. When he opened his eyes, he tiredly smiled at you.

"I'm so lucky to have you in my life, [Name]"

"I should be saying that to you, Tobio"

— ♬ Kozume Kenma

Being a famous YouTuber and a figure on the internet didn't save Kenma Kozume from all the wholesome, deranged, and horny posts about his handsome looks on the internet. Everyone was infatuated with Kodzuken once in their life, you included. You were just lucky enough to end up with him. You couldn't care less if the internet was mad about you for stealing their hot gamer YouTuber. Although you were unbothered about the small percentage of hate you got from the people on the internet, criticizing your public relationship with Kenma, there's a much smaller percentage you weren't aware that has been bothering your beloved boyfriend.

You know Kenma was chronically online, even if he chooses not to admit it. He always knows the trending topics and drama, no matter the size of it. So it's no surprise that he stumbles to the small group of people calling him unworthy of you. Kenma thought it was absurd for a while until he kept reading more.

He sees clips of his live streams where he's dismissing you during a tough game when you walked in the room to give him a snack, he even shouted at you one time because he lost. He remembers missing your anniversary because he got distracted playing with his friends. And how could he forget how he made fun of you live in front of his audience for sucking at Mario Kart when he invited you. Before he realizes it, Kenma is convinced that he is a bad boyfriend.

Despite his unbothered demeanor, you know how Kenma cares a lot even the little things. So when you found out how he's absorbing the hate he got online, you knew it had gone over to his head. As soon as he was finished recording a gameplay, you dragged him out of his gamer chair and pushed him on the bed. Surprised, he watches you push the mirror in front of him. He raises a brow when you order him to strip, he obeys when he sees the dark look in your eyes.

"Kenma, how long have you been listening to the wrong people, hm?"

You gently asked him as you slowly stroked his cock, Kenma whimpered, suddenly unable to form any words to respond. He was flushed all over, losing the ability to think straight.

"Do you think those stupid haters are right, huh? Do you think you don't deserve me?"

Kenma moans when you begin to play with his balls, his heartbeat wildly banging against his ribcage. His brain felt like mush.

"Look at the mirror, Kenma. Do you think that handsome man staring back at you is a shitty boyfriend?"

"...Yes"

"Well, you're fucking wrong. Because my boyfriend is the best in the world"

You hear Kenma's breath hitch. The male can feel his heart flutter in his chest. The longer you jerked him off, the more the pleasure overtakes all of his senses.

"My boyfriend is so cute and nice he gives me animal crossing plushies"

"My boyfriend is so smart and fantastic at video games"

"My boyfriend is so fucking hot when he fucks me hard after a tough game"

Now, you got Kenma openly moaning and struggling to keep his eyes on the mirror. If you continue showering him with compliments like that, he's afraid he's not going to last long. His hands grab your thighs tightly with every breath you steal from his lungs.

"Are you ready to stop listening to those people online, baby?"

"Are you ready to listen to me?"

Kenma nods and you smirked. Your hand pumps his cock faster ripping a high-pitched moan from your boyfriend. You force him to watch the mirror as you kiss his neck and inhale the scent of his hair while you jerk him toward orgasm. When Kenma cums, he spasms with his cum shooting in different directions. The crash brought by the pleasure was so overwhelming it sent his eyes to the back of his head. You waited as his high melted. Kenma meets your eyes through the mirror and you send him a sweet smile, and he returns it gratefully.

"I don't deserve you, [Name]"

"Hey! What did I say, Kenma?"

"That I'm the best boyfriend in the world"

"Damn right"

He turns around to pin you to the bed before towering on top of you, there was a determined glint in his eye that made you gulp.

"How about I return the favor, love?"

— ♬ Iwaizumi Hajime

Everyone liked Iwaizumi Hajime. He was kindhearted, hardworking, and most of all drop-dead hot. He can make anyone drool with that muscular body of his. Nobody was immune to the boyish charm of the athletic trainer, that could be said the same to you. As the manager of the Japan Volleyball Team, you were bound to meet Iwaizumi. You remember how incredibly lucky you were when he asked you out on a date.

When you and Iwaizumi became official, things began to appear clearer. You have concluded that you couldn't live without your boyfriend, as dramatic as it seems. You met Iwaizumi's best friend after the Olympics. Oikawa Tooru and you got along well through teasing Iwaizumi, the way you two immediately became close after meeting planted an odd feeling in the athletic trainer's chest.

He'd like to brush it off as a trick of the eye, but he thought you were smiling wider because of Oikawa. Your laughter sounded louder when Oikawa told you a funny story. He could've sworn he caught you blushing when the setter was anywhere physically close to you. Iwaizumi knows he wasn't jealous, he knows what that felt like. But this one's familiar.

It reminded him of high school when he saw people flock around his best friend. The way Oikawa effortlessly attracted everyone's attention and gained their affection made his chest hollow. After all, why would anyone pay attention to him? He wasn't anything spectacular compared to his best friend.

After Oikawa went home, you noticed how quiet Iwaizumi had been. You knew your boyfriend so it was easy to find out why he was behaving this way. When you realize that it had something to do with Oikawa earlier, your heart cracks. Did he feel insecure? No, it can't be. But then why does he appear so down?

"Hajime, come here"

You call out to him on the bed. He lazily walks over to you, as he sits you positioned right behind him. You wrapped your arms around him and planted butterfly kisses all over his neck. His breath stuttered when you reached for the hem of his sweatpants.

"Wh-what are you doing, [Name]?"

"Shhh, lemme touch you"

With red cheeks, Iwaizumi reluctantly helps you pull his sweatpants off. It didn't take long for him to feel aroused. The moment he got a boner, your hand was already around his cock. He lets out a low hiss. You give him a few leisure pumps.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror, babe"

"[Name] I-"

"I said, eyes on the mirror, Hajime"

Iwaizumi reluctantly gazed at the mirror in front of the bed, he was not prepared for the lewd sight that awaited. His legs were spread with your hand stroking his cock, his face was flushed with sweat trickling down his forehead. Your eyes stared at his through the mirror.

"God, you're so handsome, Hajime"

"I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life, babe"

The athletic trainer can feel his heart skipping beats, and his head begins to spin because of the sudden compliments and the erotic handjob.

"Were you upset earlier because I was hanging out with Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi nodded, he wanted to be honest with you. A tiny smile rises on your lips.

"I'm sorry, baby. Didn't mean to make you feel insecure"

"You know, you're the only one for me, Hajime"

You whisper tenderly against his ear. When you reach down to caress his balls, Iwaizumi lets out a choked moan.

"Oikawa may be handsome but you're my type"

"You're so fucking amazing, Hajime"

"You're so kind, patient, hardworking, and hot"

"Plus, you're good at pounding me senseless"

The pace of your hand went faster at every praise and it's making Iwaizumi go cross-eyed. He has a gorilla grip on your thigh as he watches you jerk him off to his release, he engraves it in his brain as it pushes him to his orgasm. Iwaizumi cums with a silent scream and throws his head back. He paints your hand with his cum. When he looks in the mirror again, you are smiling at him like he's the best thing that has ever happened in your life.

"Did you mean everything you said, [Name]?"

"Of course, Haji, why wouldn't I?"

"Especially the last part?"

"I only speak facts, babe"

Iwaizumi smiles as he grabs your face and crashes his lips against yours. Both of you collapsed on the bed, giggling and clinging to each other.

— ♬ Akaashi Keiji

You found it magical that no matter the stress Akaashi Keiji as an editor or a shōnen manga magazine, he manages to look so pretty. It seemed like the stress barely affected him at all. Your boyfriend was one of the underrated hardworking editors in his department, he may not have continued volleyball after high school, but he was contented with his life.

You and Akaashi have been together for long enough to be fairly involved in each other's lives. Being with Akaashi meant you have met his best friend, Bokuto Koutaro. Bokuto was a sweetheart, he was the former captain/teammate of Akaashi's and now a professional volleyball player.

Akaashi liked Bokuto very much, he looked up to him and cared about his well-being a lot. Today on his day off, he and Bokuto decided to hang out. They went jogging, he realized that he wasn't as physically active as he was in high school. They went to Onigiri Miya for breakfast, almost everyone approached Bokuto for an autograph or picture. They barely had a conversation because of the fans flooding in to meet him, and Bokuto was too kind to reject them. They ended up in Akaashi's apartment, it was a hot afternoon so both of them lounged in front of the fan, shirtless and watching a movie.

Akaashi subtly gazed at Bokuto's carefully sculpted body and looked at his slightly chubby tummy. Akaashi frowned, it was true that he barely had time to do some exercises or workouts because of how busy he was lately. Before he could stop himself, he began comparing himself to his best friend. He wondered how the hell did you end up with him, who was barely anyone special. He's just a guy you happened to fall in love with you.

Bokuto left later before you arrived. Akaashi decided to block out the insecure thoughts by finishing his work on his laptop. You notice how he was ignoring you when you got home, he looked frustrated when you checked on him. When you call him to eat dinner, he doesn't respond. You enter his office and approach him, but he won't let go of his laptop. You scowled and dragged him out of his office chair, he got out of your hold and sat down on the couch in front of the mirror. He was stressed, so you decided to help him.

"[Name]? What the-huh?!"

You settled behind him and unbuttoned his pants, he gasped when you pulled down his pants to his thighs. Your hand slipped into his boxers and grabbed his cock.

"[Name]"

Akaashi stuttered your name. You shush him by pulling his dick out of his boxers, his breath hitched. His eyes trailed to the mirror and watched the pornographic sight of you giving him a handjob, his heartbeat rings in his ears as he continued watching.

"[Name], please stop"

"Why, Keiji?"

"I-I..."

"What's wrong, babe?"

"...Why did you fall in love with me, [Name]?"

You chuckled and planted a soft kiss on his neck, Akaashi shivered when you continued to jerk him off.

"Because you're wonderful, Keiji"

"You're so handsome, hardworking, and kindhearted"

Akaashi wanted to protest, to deny that what you're saying was wrong because he doesn't feel special. Until you started massaging his balls.

"You're so fucking special, Keiji. I've never met someone like you in my life and there's no way I'm letting you go"

"Nobody has ever fucked me good after the first date"

An embarrassed blush rises on Akaashi's cheeks as he recalled the memory of fucking you all night after his first date with you. Slowly, he lets himself melt against your touch. He allows himself to be consumed by the pleasure. With lidded eyes, Akaashi watched you stroke his cock through the mirror as you peppered his neck with kisses.

"I fucking love you so much, Keiji"

The way his heart leaps out of his chest when you started pumping his dick faster causes a loud moan to slip past his lips. You smirk as you showered him with praises against his ear, effectively banishing the insecurity out of his head, and replacing it with your love and pure pleasure.

"[Name], gonna cum!"

"Go on, cum for me, pretty boy"

With that command, Akaashi comes undone. He shuts his eyes as cum messily spurts on his boxers and your hands. You give him a loving kiss against his temple.

"Go clean up, I'll wait for you at the table, darling"

Before you can leave the room, Akaashi grabs your hand. You look at your boyfriend filled with sweat, breathless, and with glasses crooked, he smiles widely at you.

"I fucking love you too, [Name]"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[kitkatscabinet]

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you. 

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive. 

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead. 

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side. 

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done. 

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles. 

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants. 

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest. 

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired. 

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again. 

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again. 

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person. 

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet. 

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you. 

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them. 

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

[blindmagdalena]

Hello!

Wonderful "Eat Your Ego, Honey" got me wondering:

what would happen if Homelander was interested in a stripper?

She's known for her dancing and, he sensed, her secret superpower/-s. Would he be furious that a girl dances in front of some "dirty" men? Would he torture her for being afraid of him? Would he be uncomfortable with the smell of her sweaty body?

I literally see scene of meeting: she's dancing to gothic metal in the dim lights of the room; Homelander is freaking out, jealous and horny (because he feels like she's having a blast dancing).

Thanks for your fanfics, I adore it! Because of your headcanons I fell in love with Homelander and decided to watch the series...

anon. the absolute RABBIT HOLE you sent me spiraling down with this ask is genuinely insane. firstly tho, thank you!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work and have been inspired to watch the show! i hope you love it as much as i did.

okay, now, onto the meat of this. i can't imagine Homelander ever being in a strip club, but i absolutely can see Vought having a dancer supe who performs at shows! and then i started thinking about what kind of powers she might have.

(this got long. strap in.)

and okay. bear with me here. i have the FAINTEST memory of a kids show (something like goosebumps or are you afraid of the dark) where they told a monkey-paw type story of a girl who wished that everyone would like/love her. and of course this turned out to be a fucking nightmare. people were obsessed with her automatically to a scary degree and she was eventually swarmed and maybe killed by the aggression of the adoring crowd? i don't remember.

but that made me think about her power being something of that nature. a chemical that compels people to adore her. when she sweats, and that sweat evaporates off of her skin, it fills the air people in the vicinity inhale it. it's what makes her dances so incredibly popular! but too much exposure to her powers can cause, uh... scary side effects in people. make them deranged. obsessive.

she hates it. it's destroyed all the relationships in her life. it's pretty much inevitable that she'll eventually effect the people around her, and it either freaks them out to the point they break contact with her or creates a completely inauthentic infatuation with her. it's impossible for her to know if anyone actually likes her, or if they're just under the influence of her powers.

she, like Homelander, would know what it's like to be "loved" in the most hollow sense of the word.

how cut to Homelander who's present at one of these shows where she's dancing and oh my god something smells incredible. downright intoxicating. it calls to every fiber of his being and he follows the scent of it until he's close enough to the stage, and it shocks him to his core to realize it's a person.

except! Homelander is so fucking chock full of V himself that he's not wholly affected by her... idk, pheromones? whatever you want to call her aura of effect. but he IS intrigued by it. by her. by the way her body moves and how she seems to have cast a SPELL on the entire audience.

he expects he'll be able to get a chance to speak with her after the performance, but bafflingly, she gets the FUCK outta there as soon as her set is done. naturally he has to follow!!!!

and okay i just had so many ideas for this! i even thought of One Single Friend she has who's a fellow supe and, due to his own powers, he's immune to her effect. i haven't figured out how exactly. maybe he doesn't breathe the way normal humans do. or he has some kind of innate filtration that makes him immune to gasses and things. his supe name is something stupid like... The Filtrator.

speaking of which her supe name would probably be like. Enchantress. something that alludes to the charming effect she has. but her friend knows how her powers work and he playfully calls her The Perspiren. perspiring siren. 😭😂

anyways i think they could have a lot of really interesting parallels! and of course Homelander would be intensely possessive of her, but he's also a HUGE exhibitionist and i think he would get off on knowing how badly everyone wants someone that's his.

he wouldn't ever physically hurt/torture her, but he would of course become violent if his possession of her were challenged or threatened in any way. if anyone touched what's his, or presumed they could take her. anyone she showed interest in would definitely wind up dead.

can you tell that i thought WAY too hard about this.

idk if i would make this an oc or a reader fic. i feel like this could definitely work for my first proper supe!reader fic! it's got a ton of potential. thanks so much for sending this!

[lan90]

Hi Hi! I have 3 questions I wanted to ask if it was ok!

the first one was what would the scenario be if Benji and Rowan were to coincidentally fall in love with the same person?

Is Rowan a family person if so how much kids would he want?

and 3 would be what would happen if his S/o was a supernatural like a demon or a hybrid?

Hello hello anon, I shall answer them all ✧

tw: yandere, jealousy, baby trapping, word count: 662

What if Benji and Rowen were to fall in love with the same person? Well... God save their poor soul. Benji and Rowen are the polar opposites of each other. If they were to fall for the same person, I don't think it would be possible for them to exist as a three. Once they find out that not only are they in love with the same person but they're both lunatics, it's inevitable they would try to kill each other. Ironically, they both believe they're trying to save their darling from this deranged individual.

Benji is brutal. Violence is the only option in his eyes if he were to have a love rival. Doesn't matter who Rowen is to you or how long you've known him, he's going down. Why is that man getting in the way of your relationship? Who does he think he is? He dreams about bringing any rival's head to the table and proving his devotion. That's the beauty of love, how far someone will go for their dearest.

On the other hand, Rowen is a bit smarter and would not resort to violence straight away, he would try other means such as chipping away at Benji's finances somehow and bringing him down slowly. Would hide you away entirely too. Of course, if there's no other way, he isn't against getting his hands dirty but he just doesn't want to see you upset. He would manipulate you into limiting your time outside (he would never let you be alone with him) his level of anxiety means he'll always be stalking you from a distance.

In other words, they're like cats and dogs.

2.) Is Rowen a family person if so how much kids would he want?

Definitely! He thinks almost religiously about how good his darling would look with his children and how precious it is to have a mini you running around. So cute so cute. He gets this weird cuteness aggression just thinking about it! Your hair, his eyes or whatever combination. It really doesn't matter as long as it's his child. How many kids is really up to you, one or several he's delighted to assist however he can :) Rowen never got to be around children, his twin sister had moved away and he was never close with his family but he would try very hard to be a good father. It's special - he thinks it would deepen the relationship too.

Now if you didn't want kids but you had the ability to reproduce... you're unfortunately very likely getting baby trapped.

3.) What would happen if his S/o was a supernatural like a demon or a hybrid?

Rowen would be so fascinated. This feeds more into his belief that you're a higher being and would make him worship you all the more. Rowen is so devoted to you, he'll do anything you ask him to. Do you want any type of sacrifice? He'll bring you as many bodies as you want! Rowen would kiss your feet and would be happy with whatever you do to him. Would not be able to keep his hands off you either. His darling is so cute and special.

Benji, on the other hand, is very intrigued but a learned man. If his darling was something beyond human, he'd tie them up and make sure they could never leave. Another thing is - he will be very curious about how their body reacts compared to that of a normal human being. Whether it be pain or pleasure tolerance, he'll take things to the very extreme. How you react to the touch of his fingers or to straight up to a knife. Boundaries are limited but he wouldn't kill you. You'd just be his little plaything he cherishes and comes home to.

[witchwrestler]

I Eat Boys

warnings // Jason being a creep but that's literally it

summary: 10 things I hate about you inspired little blurb bc I got bored

note: reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!! if you like this i will gladly do another part, this was v fun to write !!!

part 2

☆ 🎸 ☆

You'd always been what most in the small shoebox town of hawkins would call a "feminist bitch", and according to most of the men who ask you out as a joke in the hallways, you've been more rageful than usual. You had one boyfriend during your high-school career thus far. It was freshman year and the product of being told that if a boy was being mean to you, surely that means he likes you. It ended after four months, after his failed attempt at getting in your pants.

It took you much longer than you'd like to admit to heal from that fiasco, and when you had finally declared yourself happy again, you cut your hair short, bought a pair of doc martens you'd always wanted and decided you would swear men off for a while. Not to say they were even approaching you, it seems the moment you had grown into yourself and stopped caring, men wanted nothing to do with you.

That is, until a very cold and rainy saturday. You had gone to the record store across from family video to buy the new metallica 'master of puppets'. As per usual the music blaring from your beat up jeep was some form of loud aggressive feminist punk rock, and as you turned into the parking lot, what seemed like the entire hawkins cheer team parked next to you. Too fast you thought, their happy Duran Duran playing selves turned into four cheerleaders looking at you like you were deranged. You scowled back at them and walked into the record store.

You spotted the metallica immediately and walked over to the metal section.

Only you weren't the only one grabbing the cassette, right as you very nearly got your hands on it, a pair of silver-clad fingers snatched it. You looked up, shooting a glare at him. He had long curly brown hair, the sickest dio tour shirt on, a guitar pick hanging on a chain around his neck and chains hanging from his jeans. This is the first time you had felt almost upstaged by a man, you think to yourself before speaking. "I really thought I was the only one who liked metal in this shitty town, do I have competition now?" You say, leaning forward over the display separating you. He looked at you a moment, a smile on his face, "it would seem you do" you smile back at him, and grab another cassette from in front of you before walking to the front to pay.

As you leave you turn back around, finding him still standing at the metal section, his eyes meeting yours again. "I am jealous as hell of that dio shirt, by the way." You say, walking out to your car.

The rain had stopped but it was still chilly outside, so you pulled your brown leather jacket closer to keep warm. You hadn't noticed that someone was following behind you until they whistled at you. You turned on your heel, immediately angry. Jason carver and his raging case of dickface disease stood before you, walking towards you like he was entitled to you or something.

" Carver, if you don't walk away right now, I'll kick your sorry ass," you say, backing slowly towards your car and crossing your arms. "A girl? kick my ass? keep dreaming, hon." He says, inching towards you. "Look, I wouldn't mind a reason to hit you, but I doubt you're gonna wanna go tell your fucking goon squad that you got your ass beat by a woman, huh?" You say, nothing but a blank expression on your face. He gets too close for comfort, a hand brushing your thigh. "so you're a feisty one, hm?" he says, his hand now squeezing your thigh, your fist clenching at his touch. You let out a sarcastic laugh just to say, "Carver, I fucking eat boys like you for breakfast. You're all talk, no bite." a smirk paints his face as he pushes you onto the door of your car, "isn't that why you went to juvie, freak?" he says. Clearly, he thought that the freak bit would cut deep, but you weren't about to let someone like him get under your skin.

"Yeah." That wasn't true. You have never even been near a juvenile detention center. But your last straw had been pulled, and you would rather he be scared of you than have him actually figure you out. "And pathetic, mysoginistic, disrespectful boys like you were my favorite kind." You say, pushing him off of you. His eyes got big with fear, scrambling away as he ran to his car, eyes flicking to you nervously. You let out a sigh of relief "fucking, men." you mumbled under your breath, finishing the walk to your car.

☆

Little did you know, that head of curly hair and hands clad with silver, who grabbed the same album as you, had tried to catch up to you after you complimented his shirt. You hadn't noticed him watch your little scramble. And you hadn't noticed the smirk that grew on his face as he saw you scare carver off. And you didn't know that he had regretted not asking your name, and that now he feared he might never know it.

[todayesterday]

@m1ssunderstanding asked if i could share more of the story so here it is!! it got long but it’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime story to tell haha

i don’t really feel comfortable sharing too many details of how it happened because i don’t wanna doxx myself lmao but it happened in a hotel during his recent tour. i was in the lobby when he came down to leave for his concert that day. it was very brief. i first saw him right after he got off the elevator. in person, he looked exactly like i imagined him, and it caught me by surprise?? it was so surreal seeing him from so close after 10 years of being a fan. it felt like i was looking at a life-size video of him or something. after he waved at the hotel staff, i said “hey paul! hi!” and he turned to me with these exact expressions 😮🥰 - he seemed delighted that i said hi to him, which was so cute. it felt as though he was as excited to see me as i was to see him, which is obviously not the case, but he smiled so wide it made me feel like it was. then he walked straight towards me (i couldn’t move because of security and i think i physically wasn’t able to, even if i could). when he looked into my eyes, my brain short-circuited and i extended my arms to him, kind of like i was surrendering, and all i could think to say was “i love you so much”. then he got even closer and stood right in front of me. i had pulled my arms back because i wasn’t about to touch him without his permission, but then he went 😁🖐️ so i went to high-five him and he grabbed my hand. then i said “i love you so much” again like an idiot, and he held on to my hand and squeezed it. i can’t tell you how it felt to feel the warmth of his skin on mine - this was paul mccartney and he was there, squeezing my hand. actual paul mccartney. and his hand was so very soft. it felt out-of-this world. it lasted like, 3 seconds, but it felt like ages. then he let go and continued on walking, of course, because he had places to be. as soon as he turned his back to me i started ugly sobbing (pretty sure he heard it) and wasn’t able to stop for like 30 min afterwards and i felt so embarrassed about it - people were kinda worried about me and all but everyone was really nice and found it endearing that i got so emotional lol. my strongest memory is him coming towards me, but i don’t really recall what he looked like when he touched me - it’s just too much for my brain to process. i didn’t record a video or anything because i didn’t want to stick a phone to his face, but people around me recorded it and i can tell by the videos that he said “thank you” to me, although i didn’t hear it at the time. i think i was too overwhelmed to hear. anyway, it was lovely. he didn’t have to do any of this, he could’ve walked straight past me and moved on with his day, but he didn’t. he stopped and looked at me and held my hand for a few seconds. and i’ll cherish this moment forever & forever. lovely lil paul looking right into my eyes and smiling. he’s just a cool dude sometimes, y’know. apart from everything, apart from it all. he’s just a cool cool dude.

paul mccartney just held my hand and squeezed it tight as i told him repeatedly that i loved him so much. i’m much too shaken to even process it but i just thought it’d share it. his hand is so soft and his eyes so sweet

[pyrodolls]

Hiiii!

I love havik sm, and your fics are the best istg 🫶🫶

If you can do you think you can do a continuation of the yandere fics you've been writing but with havik?

Ty<3

yandere havik x reader hcs

warnings: violence, gore, toxic relationship, regular yandere tendencies yk

summary: hcs of yandere havik x (gender neutral) reader

a/n: AWWWW THANK YOU ANON!! also i got quite a lot of yandere havik requests. all of you are SICK in the head. (me too tho so it’s ok) anyways i’ve been wanting to write a yandere havik for so long bc most people write havik as aggressive and controlling all the time, but i think he’s chill to the people he’s acquainted to. BUT YANDERE HAVIK?? LETS FUCKIN GOOO CONTROLLING HAVIK!! anyways next is yandere syzoth stay tuned

there was a sickening, almost deranged look on havik’s face the moment he first saw you. as soon as he saw you, there was nothing that could stop him from making you his.

it was like he was consumed by a powerful drug, and he was completely and irrevocably enamored by you.

he longs to have you by his side. he’s so obsessed with you, he wants to cut you open and crawl inside of your skin. you’re just so enchanting, how could he not be in love?

love, is what it looks like. but for havik, it’s more of an obsession than true love. sure, he wants to hold you in his arms and be with you for the rest of his life, but he doesn’t exactly have the emotional capacity to truly be in love.

if you had a problem going on and you were emotionally distressed, he would automatically resort to violence and would be driven to destroy whoever hurt you. but he doesn’t exactly know how to comfort you. he can, but he’ll just awkwardly pat you on the back.

for now, you were just allies. but havik is determined to slowly turn it into something more. it would be so slow you wouldn’t even notice the change. in his eyes, that is the smartest way to win you over. if you’re used to his affections, you won’t leave.

well, it’s not like he would even let you leave if you fell in love with him. he would convince you to stay with him. he would convince you that he can provide you safe haven and you will someday be blessed by chaos by his side.

but if you ever rejected havik’s affections, he just wouldn’t accept it. he would assume you were just lying or having a bad day. after everything he did for you, there was no way he can live without you in his life. so he just wouldn’t accept that you rejected him.

but if you accepted his affections, havik would never hold back again. he would be completely unhinged and expect you to accept it.

he would also keep you very close to him. havik knows he has a lot of enemies that would target you, so he will always protect you. you’re his, therefore it is his responsibility to keep you untouched from harm.

you’re just so beautiful. so delicate. you would still look oh so beautiful if you were all bloodied and ruined… but havik wouldn’t let your body get ruined, as much as he wants to see it. he wishes you had the same powers as him, so your body parts don’t have to stay in the same boring spot all the time and you can enjoy the chaos of it.

speaking of chaos, havik wishes to share his lifestyle with you. no gods, no government, no order. to live a life of liberation with you is a life well lived in his eyes. if you don’t agree with him, he will make you agree. you are either with him or against him. and defying him would be a mistake. you should know to follow his ideals in order to lead a better life on his side.

havik would feel ecstatic if you were to get your hands dirty with him. he would be happy to engage in kombat with you any day, especially if you two destroyed the oppressors together.

if not, that’s okay. he can do the work and you can sit and look nice next to him. even though he would want to see you work towards freedom, he would not mind if you only supported him.

havik is convinced that chaos will benefit your life, and that he is the right partner for you. he cannot accept anything else for you. he knows what is best for you, believe him.

if anyone were to defy his vision for you… if anyone were to dare try and win you over.. he would eliminate them in gruesome manners. even if he has to do it right in front of your eyes just to prove a point. that he would fight for you. he deserves to be with you because he kills for you with no hesitation. how could you not accept him if he shows you his potential to truly dedicate himself to you?

why would anyone even dare try to court you? he is right there by your side, why can’t everyone else see that? are they so blind to think they can have you when havik claimed you first?

overall, he knows you belong to him. he does give you the freedom to choose *how* you express your affection to him and how you fight for freedom with him, but he is convinced that he is what is best for you.

havik can’t imagine the rest of his life without you, his precious little doll, by his side. so cute, so delicate. and all his. you’ll always stay with him and fight with him, won’t you?

[codacheetah]

AGREE WITH YOUR PREVIOUS POST. I like mean Loop as a facade only, but we know they still care and love...

Now I have a question, what's your favorite Loop takes/headcanon

Oh my god I'm so sorry I took like two weeks to answer this one I prommy it's not bc I'm exclusively a hater or whatever. I just straight up forgot to answer Oopsie. I'm putting this under cut bc it got long enough that you all would shoot arrows at me for putting it on your dash

Anyways there's a lot of Loop Thangs I like frankly. A big one that I enjoy is when fic authors in postcanon make the transition of Loop into the party structure kind of rocky. Usually bc Loop's neuroses creating a level 12 psychic barrier between them and the party + the inherent awkwardness of meeting somebody who's apparently super close in a way (that you'll never fully understand) to one of your friends. Who let's be real I feel like half the party (coughIsabeauandMirabelle) would catch the aura of "oh they do not like us at all" from Loop. I want Loop to be happy and with their family but you just know this bitch is going to make it as difficult for themself on purpose. The Siffrin Special.

I also just generally like when they keep Loop as a star postcanon. I'm not at all a hater towards Human Loop (in fact I think it can be itself an interesting setup for a Loop fic) but I do like Loop as a star more thematically. Something about having to accept that things have changed and moving on from it regardless. Also bc Loop being dysphoric about their body scratches a very transgender projection itch in my brain Yessss little star you're stuck in a body that draws unwanted attention and which you have no control over how it looks and functions in a way that feels fundamentally wrong to you. (Pointing at canonically transgender character) Yooooo this guy is such a cool trans allegory omg

Hmm what else. This is more of a sloops thing but I always enjoy in fics when they lean into the fact it's selfcest frankly. I've become a selfcest enjoyer bc of this ship I'll never get over that act 5 dialogue abt the cautionary tale where Siffrin says he never understood the moral of the story bc the idea of having somebody just like him who understands him. Oh my gyoooooooooooooooood. I want them to melt into sludge I'm always thinking of that analogy from superflyghtheart on discord comparing Loop and Siffrin to endlings of an endangered species. 💥💥💥It's like. This is less sloopy now but I'm caught between the intersection in my head of "Loop would probably benefit from developing their own identity as a person separate from Siffrin bc they need Something they have control over" and "Loop is of the Siffrin Species and they are significantly too sentimental to let go of the shreds of what they used to have, especially after having lost all of it once already". Both of these things are yummy as fuck when ppl smarter than me explore them and they're kinda the main Story Paths for postcanon Loop anyways so I'm always winning. So like idk tldr I like it both when ppl have Loop diverge a lot as a person and when they have Loop try their best to stay as much of a Siffrin as possible!

I'm limiting myself to four paragraphs so you don't all want to hit me with hammers but I do have Loop Biology Headcanons. I've explained mythoughts on their guts before and don't feel like recounting them but whatever True #codacheetahwarriors remember my deranged rambling. ANYWAYS I kind of mentally run on the assumption of Loop's body as like. The Universe couldn't keep Loop in Siffrin's body, bc they needed Siffrin to be in it (and I guess a system situation introduces too many factors of its own? idk). The Universe operates with the goal of fulfilling wishes with the least intervention possible, so The Universe makes a body out of cheap inorganic material (star-scrap basically). Miniature star for a head fueling the body with Craft energy (I'm not going to get into my conspiracy that all Craft is the same here). Molds the star scrap into a vaguely Siffrin-shaped/sized vessel and plonks Loop's conscious into it and calls it a day. So Loop's body as a poor simulacrum of a human body is like. They're capable of breathing but they only really benefit from doing it on a psychological level. They can't eat or drink and don't have a mouth because it would require a significant level of added effort to make a digestive system, when they can just derive energy from their star. They don't have reproductive organs because they're not made from organic material anymore anyways. They don't need to sleep bc their body never gets tired but they still do it because it's not really a great idea to leave your brain on running for too long anyways.

I fucking lied I'm on paragraph five bc the block of text is annoying me. To continue that's all a preface to say I think it's super fun when Loop has body functions that are weird and unpredictable. Their little frizzles on their body are reactive to their emotions the same way their headstar is, and feel like static if you touch them. Their head has a vague boundary so their eyes have something to be rooted to but the function by which their optic nerves work is unclear to everybody including themself. They glow based on intensity of emotion and the temperature of their star changes via specific mood. Bc I think it would be fun if the battlefield in twohats when from ice cold to boiling hot frankly. Ok these are all just my headcanons (temperature one very loose though I'm not a hard subscriber to it) but they're not uniquely mine it's just examples of what I mean. One I don't have as a personal headcanon but I do enjoy is when Loop feels the same physical sensations as Siffrin bc it's funny and I like inflicting misery on the star.

I'm going to shut up now like actually . Loop for your troubles