#he's got peak freak energy I love him

[chaos0pikachu]

yo First a full on little freak I love this kinky little blonde dude he's so fucking funny giving blowjobs to the pizza delivery man in front of fully open windows in broad ass daylight like a porn disney princess dean winchester would be so proud

[piinkgore]

I love you, it's ruining my life

bunch sad taylor swift lyrics always has me breaking my own heart writing fanfiction *sighs* guess this is my debut in the gf fandom as a writer !! hiiii

warnings: sfw, gn!reader, established relationship, language, angst

“You are the most terrible mistake I’ve ever made.”

The words still echo even when the sentence is already finished, growing faint as the seconds pass by but never fading at all; still on the back of your mind, replaying over and over again as if they were part of a broken record.

Once spoken, that fucking phrase couldn’t be swallowed back, less forgotten. God knows how long it would take for them to be gone for good, and not a haunting whisper to follow you through your worst nightmares; one of them now becoming reality.

But that’s not the beginning of your history with Ford. No, it's the end. 

Feels like carving the epitaph on a tombstone. In memory of a love which once lived greatly, now may rest forever in the cold embrace of death. Quote, the most terrible mistake I’ve ever made, unquote. Should you credit Ford Pines in the end? The motherfucker who just put the final nail on your coffin?

You wish you could tell him to shut the fuck up and leave you alone, pretending this won’t be anything but another stupid fight you will manage to forget tomorrow. Maybe you could’ve, if you weren’t too occupied with your hollow chest, asking yourself where did you heart go — or if it was too broken to even manage a last beat.

"What the hell did you just say?" you don't even have the energy to shout back at him. It all comes out in a whisper, one that is not enough to fit your anger; less your sadness. Sometimes, you've got to recognize a lost battle. Yet, this one changed the course of a whole fucking war, one you were exhausted to fight. 

So there you stood: the loser. Feeling small and insignificant as one of the particles of dust hovering in the thick air between you. The body count so far: your home, your engagement, your love, your heart. And the last thing you could ever lose, a loss to mourn for all of your days, was already slipping through your fingers.

Just one last battle to thrive: the tears threatening to flood through your eyes, which you were trying hard to keep for yourself. Ford does not deserve them, not anymore, not when he doesn’t show a single trace of remorse.

You knew he meant it, and that was the very reason it hurt so bad. Sometimes, retrieving the knife from the flesh just meant more pain. You should’ve let it there, rooting in between the bones of your ribcage instead of opening a fresh wound. 

"You've heard me quite well." 

Your throat goes sore, unspoken words scratching it, trying to climb out of your mouth. The last sparkle of a long gone flame lights up, enough fuel for you to bite back. "Right. So I am the mistake, while your freaking muse-"

Sadly, the great amount of bad words on the tip of your tongue didn’t have a chance to be spoken.

"Do not bring Bill into this again,” his words cut you off; more bleeding to stanch on the way.  Ford was responsible for the hollow inside of you, a quiet torment bursting out to destroy what was left from the previous catastrophes. Lies pouring from lips which once kissed you so dearly and now couldn’t even speak in your favor. “It was never about him, any of it."

"It's always about him!” frustration wins, and a restless tremble finds your fingers as the volume of your voice grows louder. It hurts to speak, to think — existence itself feels excruciating. Your last strings of hope were now cut, disappearing into nothingness. What’s left, you still don’t know. “There's no you and me, not anymore. Not without Bill, not without the portal.”

A shredded breath has your whole body shaking, your cue to remember breathing; unevenly as it may be, you still need it to survive, no matter how your frenetic heartbeat tells you’re going to the very opposite way. Whenever your anxiety hit such a peak, Ford would be the one by your side. Now, he was standing on the opposite corner of the room, staring at you as if you do not belong there.

In this, you both could agree. It’s been so long since you’re no longer part of his equation, but an unpleasant variable Stanford, the genius himself, can’t solve, which would end up better erased; long forgotten. 

“Fine,” you barely manage a mutter, rubbing your temples to ease off the ache pulsating through your skull. Someone could have hit you with a hammer and the pain would be softer. “Fiddleford is already gone, and now you want me out of the picture,” you capture your lower lip between your teeth, grazing the soft skin. The taste of blood somehow leaves your mouth less bitter, still not enough to stop you from actually being bitter. “Maybe it will give you and your triangle partner enough space to shove that stupid machine up your ass.”

He’s outraged, of course. Bill has become his everything, dethroning you from that spot you once thought was granted forever. How dare you speak so low of him? His muse, his mentor, his… fuck, to think of finishing this sentence is makes you nauseous. 

Storming out of the room with Ford hot on your trails, you let a few tears find their way out. It’s fine as long as he can’t see you crying, nor hear your strangled sobs under his own voice. You don’t want him to be a testimony to your misery any more. It’s terrible already the whole house seems to have eyes staring at you from every wall.

If Bill was actually watching, you can bet that fucking triangle is damn amused.

Your own thoughts are too loud for you to hear what Ford is saying, or best, vomiting at you. Yet, you can distinguish the screaming is there as you lead the way to what used to be your shared bedroom. 

God, when you’ve come this? 

The love of your life now inhabits the skin of a stranger, and you can’t bear his shit for longer than you already did. You could’ve endured anything for your Ford, but that wasn’t him. Where did he go? When did you lose him for good? But it’s a little too late to ask yourself these questions, and you know the damn answers already, so it’s pointless to keep the torture of knowing the truth.

You feel the urge to crash every small piece of triangular shaped decoration on your way. They are everywhere, in every damn corner, even in the pattern of the curtains when not resting upon the furniture — standing in the middle of your family pictures, among vases with dead flowers, a cemetery of memories from better times.

You stop your tracks for a while just to wander your eyes on some of them, lips trembling to conceive a faint smile at the sight of the portraits. One displays you and Ford outside a newly built shack, smiling from ear to ear as your faces are pressed together so tightly his glasses went crooked. If you squint your eyes enough, you can see a red blur in the bushes just behind you — a little gnome hiding just in time. 

Suddenly, it becomes harder to keep the tears away as reality hits you hard. Those times are gone, and nothing you could do would bring them back to you. 

“You don’t understand,” you can hear Stanford clear as day now, as if you had just emerged from underwater and abruptly became aware of your surroundings. Ford has been repeating this same bullshit nonstop from what? Weeks from now. Nedless to say you were fucking tired of such a nonsense accusation. “The work I’ devoted my life to is about to change the whole world for good and you can’t even-”

Your turn is so abrupt that Ford stops himself from finishing the sentence, swallowing a gasp. “Listen to me,” biting your lip to not curse at him, all of your strength is dealt into the final blow — more like a last resort. “You think Bill is about to make you someone as if I didn’t spend the last years seeing you as my fucking north already,” he’s a little taken aback by your sudden burst out, you can tell by the tip of his ears going pink. “I did everything for you, Stanford. Your dream, your house, your anomalies… and what the fuck you did to me in return? Not even bothering to sleep in the same bed as me for months?” shit, saying it aloud only made it sound more pathetic than it already was. “Or having the nerve to accuse me of not understanding you after everything I gave up to be with you in this shit hole of a city?” 

Ford's response was nothing but silence. Of course it was. What could he say on his behalf when you’re damn right? This time, though, you wish you didn’t.

But you waited for him to say something nonetheless. Anything would do, really. Worse than his rage, his hatred and the damn obsession for his muse was the indifference he has been meeting you with.

The meanings of you have been changed in his dictionary long ago. Did it matter now?

Every move of his was strategic, closer and closer to a checkmate — his dream coming true. And if you were to be sacrificed so he could win… well, a side effect. As long as his king was safe, pawns were pawns.

You’ve just taken too long to realise it.

“Don’t you think you can come crawling back to me after this,” it’s a statement more to yourself then to him; a reminder to not let him inside your heart again after all the damage Ford has done. “When your false god gets tired of toying with you, when your ego stops being enough to feed your delusion, I won’t come back to pick up whatever’s left.”

You stare at him — at Stanford’s eyes. He’s perfectly still, aside from the dramatic rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath he takes. While your eyes silently begged him to change his mind, to take back what he just said… his did not show any emotion but resolution.

Ford is a man of science. He would never affirm something with such a conviction if he wasn’t absolutely sure of it. And as it seemed, he thought of you as a mistake with certainty enough to say it out loud and keep his mind until the very last minute.

“Fine.”

So this is it. The end.

“Fine it is,” you wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, dampening the sleeves of the sweater you’re wearing; which is actually Ford’s. You debate whether to leave it behind or keep it with you while packing your things.

Ford doesn’t stay any longer after this. No goodbyes were said, and his last glance upon you earns a cold shiver running down your spine. You could’ve spitted right into his face and he would still be less mad than he was at the moment, thanks to your audacity of blaming Bill on the failure of your relationship. 

It’s not like Ford needed you, or anyone else at the matter. He had gifts you failed to comprehend, and a view where you were the one crawling back to him as soon as the portal was completed.

Delusion upon delusion… which of you were the worst?

You were left alone, but the whole house was watching silently — every triangle window had an eye of its own, and the dark corners somewhat got darker, casting enormous shadows around you.

Ford must be down at his lab, in the company of his muse… fuck, you don’t want to think of them and whatever they did when you’re not around. Which now would mean pretty much every time. 

It’s a bright summer day outside when you leave the shack, but not even the warmth of the sun seems to be sufficient to dispel the coldness clinging to your bones.

Your fingers are still trembling since the whole fight went out of track, and so they stood while you were folding your clothes slowly, still thinking that things would change by some miracle… and now, as you open the door to your car.

You tell yourself to not look back, and shit, it's not easy; especially when your own mind don't shut the fuck up. For the hours you spent wandering around the city, you leave the radio on the highest volume and keep the cool. You come and go until you’ve reached the "you’re leaving Gravity Falls" sign.

With nowhere else to go, you throw your engagement ring out of the window and speed up to God knows where. As long as it’s far, you suppose you’ll be fine.

[ohai-there]

post canon SVSSS x minato hokage era naruto crossover where it's scumplane (bcos i love scumplane) heading to the elemental nations on official business for some reason or another (maybe theres a barrier between their lands to prevent leakage of spiritual energy or somethign) SJ hates being alive purely because it means he's in SQH's debt for ripping him out of SQQ's body that Shen Yuan was inhabiting and reviving SJ (because SY decided to fuck off and live his best life as the demon emperor's wife and Cang Qiong NEEDS a peak lord for Qing Jing)

canonically immortals are extremely beautiful (even SQH is described as a 'proper' face iirc) and SJ is like TOP TIER beauty, but also immortals are sometimes described to have faces 'carved from jade' so I imagine when they step into immortality, they no longer have micro expressions and have like... crazy control over their facial muscles - so it kinda freaks out the ninjas, because the only emotions they can see is exactly what scumplane want them to see (SJ - disgust, usually. SQH - cowardice/flattery)

Scumplane also have 0 sense of danger when it comes to shinobi - they're immortals and old (lets say this is an indetermined amount of time after canon wraps up) so things like mundane steel and mortal poisons mean nothing to them when theyre so old. They also don't even bother holding back their tongues because what can these mortals even do to them? Worse comes to worse, they just seal up the worlds again, or just wait out for all these mortals to die (a strategy they use for troublesome emperors or politicians).

They also bring their disciples (Ming Fan specifically because I want him to have a redemption) and after canon had wrapped up the PIDW's story finished, everyone in the world actually bounced back into their rightful places (e.g. MF suddenly got a second puberty, his face improved to be beautiful as it should be and his intelligence returned to the level that the head disciple of the scholarly peak should be).

I want it to be during Minato hokage's short, short tenure - Minato is 23, a war hero and recently hired as ninja president, Konoha just came out of a war and suddenly the daimyo is paying WELL and hiring for the best teams of Konoha to escort these foreigners who are so otherwordly beautiful and so otherworldly RICH, like, the material of the clothes they wear puts the daimyos court to shame, they can pay in pure gold and stones thrumming with power.

SJ's whole thing is like... based on image. So imagine SQH bowing and being like 'ooh thank you for your hospitality' and SJ just grabbing him by the back of his collar and hauling him up like 'wtf dont even bother bowing to this guy. Have some face. he's only got the same rank as you AND he's a fucking child.'

(He's figured that Daimyo = weak emperor-ish, because what kind of a emperor only has control of such a small land AND has others in nearby lands with the same, competing title????. Hokage & Konoha is like the sects, and all the peak lords of CQS are of the same rank as a sect leader. Of course, they all defer to YQY officially, but tbh all the peaks run like their own individual sects, and SJ has never allowed himself to act below YQY in rank)

During Minato's reign, Orochimaru is still a loyal Konoha shinobi.... his interest in immortals makes him soooooo crazy invested in them....

SJ looks at Orochimaru who's questioning him on immortality and is like, 'out of all these people, you are the closest. Your mind is too unstable, however (ironic, coming from SJ) and you still cling too tightly to the material world. Abandon all worldly matters and immortality may be in your grasp, if the heavens deign it so.' acting like he's a good teacher or something, while SQH is in the background, the voice of reason like 'SHIXIONG WTF!!! WE'RE NOTT SUPPOSED TO BE GIVING UP THE SECRET TO IMMORTALITY TO THE MORTALS OF THE FORBIDDEN REALM????'

Maybe SQH does know they're in the naruto world, and knows what naruto is, (hc that the water walking we see YQY do in the donghua was ripped off from naruto, when SQH was still writing PIDW) but it's been like 200+ years! He can't remember shit!!! This is all new information to him!

[hitlikehammers]

AVOIDANCE: the only real solution to all of Eddie’s your falling-in-love problems!

(0 out of 10 participants in this approach have proven its INeffectiveness; talk to your ✨love interest✨today to avoid this heartbreaking waste of your energy!)

It’s not like they were bosom buddies for years and years. A week at the outset, a couple months since, and now they’re all back in their own homes living their own lives and Eddie can avoid the way he’s most definitely, one-hundred-percent certainly in love with Steve Harrington. Very effectively.  By simply avoiding Steve Harrington. 

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, eddie munson and his newfound obsession/unprecedebtedly-close-to-love feelings for steve harrington, answer: avoid steve harrington like the plague, excellent and emotionally-mature ways of dealing with your problems! /s, primary hiccup in existing plan: forgetting steve harrington doesn’t take well to failure, (oops), miscommunication, boys so dumb, confessions, hint of angst (because eddie is a very silly boy with very silly ideas sometimes), self-confident!steve, steve harrington facing the issues head-on, feelings confessions, peak eddie dramatics, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”―Jane Austen, Emma

True fact: Eddie thought he was playing things cool. Thought he was totally copacetic, in, you know, keeping it all subtle. He can do subtle, y’know: being loud and proud, shouting on tabletops and shit, screaming at drunks—that was a choice, not a…a rule. He’s a freak, he’s an outcast, he’s a weird-ass motherfucker: he’d have had far more brushes with his actual-factual demise in this podunk town if he was literally incapable of blending in with the background, and not just kinda sickened by the concept, let alone the effort involved to appease fucking…normies.

So yeah, he’d…he’d thought he was flying under the radar. And anyway; why the fuck would Steve Harrington even notice eddies absence in his day-to-day? They were apocalypse ‘friends’. Hospital buddies at best.

They’re back in the real world now.

Eddie supposed Vecna or whatever the fuck his name is will come crawling back in the foreseeable future, but brighter minds than his are preparing for that shit. The sheepies will let him know if they need his assistance—pending what that assistance may or may not be worth dependent on how far along his PT journey he stands at that point.

But it’s not like they were glued to the hip. It’s not like they were bosom buddies for years and years. A week at the outset, a couple months since, and now they’re all back in their own homes living their own lives and Eddie can avoid the way he’s most definitely, one-hundred-percent certainly in love with Steve Harrington. Very effectively.

By simply avoiding Steve Harrington.

It’s kind of a foolproof plan, really. He starts wrapping Hellfire earlier, tells the little shitheads he’s gotta run, Wayne needs a hand with a revolving door of household projects now that they’ve got their own place with more than one bedroom. Gotta mount that hangers for that ball cap collection just right, you know, yadda yadda.

He thinks they gave up being suspicious without a week or two, now just hit him with annoyed eye rolls. God bless the scourge of self-centred teenage bitchiness playing directly into eddies hand.

What he failed to account for, however, about eleven weeks into his up-to-now flawless scheme, was…well. The leading man himself.

Showing the fuck up at Eddie’s door, which Eddie answered for once like a fool and now can’t back out of cleanly because there’s no truck in the drive—it’s clear he’s here on his own.

Motherfucker.

One thing can be said for the plan, in terms of like, general side quest observations—absence definitely made the heart grow fonder. Or at least didn’t contribute at all to the opposite. Which Eddie hadn’t been entirely sure was possible, because the speed and strength of how he fell with every fucking cell in him had honestly terrified the shit out of him on its own. But after avoiding Steve, nodding at best if he canoed paths and sneaking away when the man called out like he was gonna snake through a crowd at any of the number of the family dinners for interdimensional-trauma-survivors-anonymous that Eddie couldn’t weasel out of: it’d been clear pretty fucking quick.

The almost-indefensibly-absurd affection he’d developed for the King of Hawkins—it wasn’t just reign over the high school if the parents were so charmed, if the fucking hospital has cowed into acting and quick when they tried to hesitate in treating an accused murderer, as Eddie’d been regaled with by everyone but Steve, who shrugged his kinda crucial role in saving Eddie’s ass with a shrug and of course, man, like there was ever even a question—but his indefensibly overwhelming and absurd infatuation that spent every month expanding further to try and crack his fucking ribs, well.

It was chronic, at best. He wasn’t gonna shake it…any time soon.

Any time soon.

So: best to at least keep the catalyst at bay, stop it from causing the condition to worsen.

He’d made the mistake of thinking it couldn’t get worse already. Learn from your mistakes, and all the shit.

So what if it’s been months now and not only has the malady of being ass-over-nipple in-fucking-love persisted, but got so much fucking worse? Deeper? More, when that shit should have even been possible?

No. He just has to be persistent. Keep at the plan. Eventually, it’ll die off. It’ll whither and blow away. It’ll fucking fade—

He does, however, fail to calculate all contingencies.

Namely Steve Harrington’s incapacity to accept defeat.

He’s also too fucking scatterbrained to check the door before opening it when there’s a knock, just after Wayne’s left for his shift. When Eddie has no excuse to slam it back shut on the exceptionally exquisite face waiting when the hinges swing open.

Exquisite, but looking…pinched. Sour.

Pissed the fuck off.

And worst of all of it—because so far the list only server to underscore that unfortunate state of being fucking beautiful, on every possible level—but worst of it all, because it’s worst on its own but also because it twists, distorts all the beauty, and it’s so clearly Eddie’s fault because Steve is standing right here, and not elsewhere, after all this time.

Looking hurt, under everything else.

“I’m done with this, yeah?”

Eddie could run. He’d only make it to his room; Steve would probably be able to break down the door and get to him before he could slither through the window and run, but he’s still not 100%, right, he’s physically at a disadvantage anyway, it’s not even gonna be a question—

Steve’s got him cornered.

So he just stands. Blinks.

Doesn’t…know what Steve’s ‘done with’, but he feels his literally twist, wring like a dishrag, when he figures out the most likely answer is just:

 Eddie.

Even trying to keep the maximum distance, he either knows, and hates it, hates him, or…

He doesn’t know, and doesn’t need to. He just is over Eddie and his bullshit.

It’s in the heart-piercing distraction of either and both possibilities that Steve pushes past him into the front hall.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?”

Steve crosses his arms as the door latches closed, caging them in.

Eddie’s heart starts kicking hard, which is painful. He assumes that’s because it’s been pierced by the hurt still on Steve’s face.

“I thought we were, like, that at least we were friends?”

He says it like he also has maybe had thoughts like there’s something else they were, or could have been. That by association and context would be somewhere more than friends?

Eddie’s pieced-through heart switches to a double-thumping sort of thing that’s really just as confused as the rest of him.

Hurts like a motherfucker, too.

“Did I do something?”

Steve asks, finally sounds more defeated than any of the other things Eddie can pick up in how he holds his body, and honestly that’s what breaks Eddie’s resolve, of everything; after everything. After holding out this long and failing for the entire fucking effort, after hurting Steve, the last thing he could ever want, probably the main underlying reason he’s been running from him the whole goddamn time—to not hurt him.

He’s suck a fuck up. He’s such a fucking fuck up.

“You know how sunflowers grow?”

Steve startles a little, grows the slightest bit.

“They find the sun, and the grow toward it,” and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think the whole disaster that’s unfolding in front of him, from his own chest, his own fucking mouth—he’s aware.

He can’t do nothing, but he also doesn’t think he can sugarcoat this in a way that goes down easier; sand the rough edges to make it make better sense.

He has to wrench it raw and bloody from his ribs, caught on the jagged bone like the messy fuck he is.

“You were the sun,” Eddie finally says it out loud, and his voice is so small and wondering, he can’t hide it. “You were the sun and I woke up broken, I had to grow back so much and I did, because I had the tools,” he swallows, takes a shaky breath:

“I had the sun right next to me, to do all the growing toward. To…rebuild around.”

Eddie’s always been a weirdo, and outcast—he’s spent a lot of time in libraries; often hiding.

But he’s read a lot of random shit. And enough of it’s stuck to make some sense of this fucking mess.

Steve’s face gives nothing away. It’s usually so…so generous with its feeling, even if there are some feelings Eddie knows Steve’s careful to never let show.

But in the now, he just stares.

“Otters,”Eddie blurts out, fingers twitching, wrists shaking; “they hold hands when they sleep,” and he looks up for a second before looking away again, pulse a mullet in his throat.

“I used to hold onto your hand when I fell asleep in the hospital,” and he says it like it’s a secret, a confession, even though of all people, of course Steve already fucking knows. The part he doesn’t, though:

“I still reach, and how fucked that? Like I deserve it as a rule, like it’s mine.”

Like you’re mine.

He can’t say it. But he doesn’t have it. It rings out on its own.

“But then there are the trees that shoot up all tangled,” Eddie can’t remember what they’re called; “where the trunks split off into one another, or they’re so braided up together the share their bark, whole pieces left Bernal’s, naked but the other tree covers it, makes it strong and safe but only so long as they’re literally fused together indefinitely,” and Eddie hopes that one…that one explains itself.

He pauses, waits for any reaction.

No dice.

“Bats sleep in pitcher plants.”

That at least gets the slightest lift of the chin. Probably because it’s weird, and also…bats.

Right. So Eddie’s gonna have to spell it all out.

Which he kinda knew. The examples are fucking weird. But they’re…they’re true. They’re where he is.

“If I get too fucking close, I will destroy you,” Eddie says, because that’s the fear, right—or no.

That’s the fucking truth. Eddie always ends up with the tatters of the things he loves the most.

“I’ll take too much, I’ll take everything,” Eddie confesses, pleads in his tone to be seen, which Steve’s always been weirdly good at, and understood—the bigger gamble.

“There won’t be any stoplights, there won’t be a barrier or a boundary where I’ll know I’ve gone too far because I won’t even think of what that fucking is, what it could be to even watch for, like the barebones idea of ‘too far’, let alone what it looks like, I won’t,” and his breath runs out, so he gasps, and he thinks he sees Steve move to reach, to help, to steady.

He thinks.

It’s probably just wishful thinking.

“I won’t stop holding on just when I’m sleeping, I’ll,” Eddie licks his lips, because now…now he’sstarting to hurt, closer to what it felt like with teeth ripping his flesh than anything has felt, than any loss has threatened. He has to clear his throat, because otherwise the rest will just spill out like a sob:

“I’ll tear your bark so you bleed, and you’re exposed and you die off slow, because I was selfish, so selfish, I held to close, I fucking…” eddies voice cracks; his eyes fucking burn; “because I fucking demanded the whole of you, and damn the cost because I couldn’t process an end, why would I stop doing to even think to be logical and careful when an end to you was, is, well, fuck,” he huffs, and a tear spills out white hot down his cheek;

“It’s incomprehensible, because that would be the end of everything, that was made real fucking clear for me with the bats, both times,” and Eddie means that—he’s had time to think through the origin of his aching and it was early, it was any hint of being in the world without this person in it, too; “and the end of everything, well,” he shakes his head, some of his hair sticking in the single trail of salt on his skin:

“Tied up in you, so tight we couldn’t physically untangle?” His voice drops to a whisper, and he knows his smile has to look sad, but he means this is the deepest places his heart even holds:

“What better way to go?”

He maybes watches Steve’s throat bobbing. Maybe.

Probably not.

So Eddie just sighs. Because…none of that matters. None of that matters in the face of the core truth:

“Those pitcher plants dissolve things inside them, it’s how they eat,” he half-recites, retreating into those deep-heart places, where the feeling is most saturated, but hard to find, somewhere to hide as he whispers, cowers in himself as he flats his own flesh:

“I’ll leech from you for wanting too much just the same. I’ll fucking destroy you, Stevie,” he moans, feels his arms wrap around his chest, protective. Trembling.

“I’ll love you so hard I’ll suffocate you, I’ll tear you to pieces trying to get closer, trying to hold the heart of you closer to mine,” he doesn’t even make a conscious decision to press a palm over his flailing heart where his arm already holds, hugs himself so fucking tight. His lungs are sore. It’s tight, trying to breathe.

“It’s not an overstatement, though, the other plants, the flowers,” Eddie feels overwhelmed, suddenly, with a need to make clear that there’s only one person at fault for this, and it’s him—Steve didn’t deserve to get hurt. Eddie should have found a better way to keep him safe—from Eddie—from the very start. Because—

“You are my sun,” Eddie makes himself look up, look at Steve. “I didn’t realize how little I was growing even before spring break. I didn’t notice, how fucking thriving wasn’t even in my goddamn vocabulary, until there was you.” His breathing shudders again, followed by the rest of him:

“I turn toward you as a rule,” because here’s the thing. All these weeks and months.

Eddie’s been shrivelling. Eddie spends his nights dreaming of sunlight.

It’s inescapable.

He was going to have to find a more sustainable compromise soon, anyway. Might as well…lay it all out now.

He’s already ripped off his bark. He’s already prepared to dissolve in the acid, to burn for what it means to have left the feeling grow so big.

“I hope,” he coughs, starts slow, formal-like: “I hope you can do me the favor of just,” he has to clear his throat again; fuck, it’s hard; “politely ignoring that part. Like, even at a distance, it’s not something I can seem to stop.”

He was aiming for apologetic for that last bit, honest.

He fucking fails spectacularly, so. That’s cool.

“I swear, I won’t bother you,” he tries to convey how he’s sorry, for all of it, save for the core of the loving, because he as granted. A taste, no matter how it’s fallen to ruin; he’s selfish that way anyhow, to have seen some of the sun versus darkness alone for always.

Still:

“I won’t come near, I’ll do what I’ve been doing but better, I’ll be better, I’ll try harder, it will—“

Eddie thinks maybe he’s finally died. Of heartbreak, of whatever the Upside Down did to him. Of living without his sun for a long.

Any. All of the above.

Because the next thing he knows is pressure. Heat.

On his lips.

He barely processes responding before its town away: of course death wouldn’t be a reward. Not for him.

“Are you fucking telling me,” a voice bites out close enough to Eddie’s lips that he can feel how sharp they cut:

“That you have been avoiding me, running awayfrom me,” and Eddie knows that voice—

“Breaking my heart,” and fuck, fuck Eddie knows he knows that voice because when it’s hurting—and those words are irate and disbelieving and they’re hurt—

“Because you’re fucking scared of loving me too hard?”

And Eddie pulls back, opens his eyes: Steve.

Steve’s eyes are fucking vibrant with feeling, so many feelings. He’s…he doesn’t think he’s dead, because a lot of those feelings are ones Eddie’s not familiar with, and how would he know to place them there if he’s never known them at all?

He doesn’t know of it’s better or worse, to not be dead right now.

Because he just apparently got to feel Steve’s lips on his lips.

But then:

“Because that’s what you’re saying, right” Steve raises a brow, demands in posture as much as in tone:

“You’re in love with me.”

And then on the flip side of being alive-or-dead: he has to deal with the consequences of spelling out the answer to…that.

Which he’s apparently broken Steve’s heart over handling…the only way he could figure out. And still fucking it up.

“That sounds less than what it feels like,” Eddie whispers; it’s the only thing he can latch on to.

Steve’s eyes narrow at him, contemplate him.

“And you think me, of all people,” Steve finally asks, slow, his tone wrenchingly deliberate; “that Iwouldn’t meet someone loving that big and that much,” “and he huffs, shakes his head in searing disbelief Eddie almost wishes he could flinch from, but it’s so warm, it’s his sun:

“That that wouldn’t feel like there actually was a heaven, and I’d died and somehow made it there?”

Eddie’s breath catches, then stops entirely. He can’t seem to properly suck in another one because…

“That finding that wouldn’t feel like I’d won the lottery, like I’d figured out what it meant when people talk about a blessing, and all that shit?”

Because what…what it almost sounds like Steve is saying can’t actually be—

“That finding it, with you,” and oh, oh Steve is a lot closer than he was last Eddie processed the world around him, his chest is grazing Eddie’s chest when he seems to have no trouble breathing, just is doing it really deep and reallt fast—

“That it’d be anything less than a gift,” Steve murmurs half against Eddie’s lips; “a dream come to life?”

And Steve’s eyes flick up, and it’s when they land on Eddie’s and see him that his lungs shiver and he chokes out the only word he thinks his every molecule knows by heart:

“Steve?”

And Steve doesn’t move, neither. Loser nor farther away.

Doesn’t look away; doesn’t blink.

Just asks:

“Do you love me?”

And something in Eddie unfreezes, some string holding him up, holding him back snaps free and he just grabs Steve’s hand and presses it to his chest, like he needs to be tethered now that the string in him’s been cut, and the touch, this touch: Steve is really all he’s been wanting to keep him.

To keep him at all.

And maybe this is the one shot he gets.

But Steve, Steve said…

He presses Steve’s hand to his chest a little harder, because he’s bathed in the sun again. Their hands are linked, and they’re not asleep. He’s peeled off all the pretense, he’s as bare and vulnerable as he can possibly get. His heart’s beating into Steve palm. Eddie will happily fucking drown in this, dissolve and be…

He’s already consumed.

How is it any different, save that maybe, just maybe, beyond all odds and against everything he’s feared—

“More than I can hold in here,” Eddie scarcely finds the air to breathe; “more than I can say.”

“Then share it,” Steve says, the assuredness, the rightness in his gravity that’s always been at his core radiating forth and warming Eddie in a way he’s never known to feel before.

“Let me know it, let that feeling not be alone anymore,” and the words hold more than their syllables, by so much; “let it out to see the sun,” and then Steve’s flipping their hands so eddies the one caught agains this chest, but he’s always pulling them close enough that Steve’s knuckles are still catching the drum of Eddie’s pulse. It feels…

Eddie didn’t know what to expect, to let the feeling be felt beyond his own chest.

It’s breathtaking in a new way. It’s…

“Let it meet its match here, in how I feel,” Steve doesn’t suggest, just speaks, instructs, leads with a match to what Eddie feels, has been drowning in, save where it stole his air it’s breathing into him; where it took his light it’s reinventing the sun as Steve murmurs close, so close to his lips:

“Let it see how it was killing me all this time without you,” and Eddie whimpers for the cost of what he’s done, what he felt so sure he had to do—

“Let the feeling inside here,” and he presses his touch back to Eddie’s chest just a little bit firmer; “know how much sharing it’s like stitching my broken heart back to rights.”

Eddie’s exhales shakes so fucking hard; he can’t be this lucky. It can’t…he can’t…

But his heart’s beating so hard, so fast, so free.

So fucking alive.

“You can’t say it, big enough?” Steve pushes, his breath so goddamn warm, his lashes so thick, Eddie wants to feel them on his skin like a blessing, a sacrament:

“You can’t say it? Then show me, instead.”

And Steve looks up at him before he grabs around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulls him close enough that speaking rubs their lips together, more combative than affectionate but still undeniably intimate as Steve growls:

“Fucking months, Eddie, Jesus,” and his grip is firm, but there’s no force, Eddie could pull back, Eddie could try to run, and fail, but how could he, how could he ever—

His hand’s crushed to Steve’s chest. The same wild thrum he feels in his veins is there.

Let it meet its match.

“Make up for it,” Steve’s breath trembles on Eddie’s lips, taunts him, begs him, asks so many questions.

Eddie flips their hands one more time, presses Steve’s hand to his heartbeat with nothing less than desperation until his ribs goddamn creak, and then he leans, makes the pressure bigger—

Meets the feeling in Steve with all the feeling in him with their lips on each other like they mean it this time, ready to dissolve in it. To grow themselves to protect around the soft parts. To keep their hands entwined for always.

To come alive inside this sun.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

[holy-obsession-batman]

UDRH but Nightwing is trying to 1) hide that he’s still Renegade 2) babysit Rose Wilson

Quick recap for those who don’t know what I’m talking about, after some very bad no good events happening to Nightwing in Blüdhaven, Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke offers Dick a deal to make the city neutral, free of both superheroes and supervillains. In exchange, Dick is to help train Deathstroke’s daughter, Rose aka the second Ravager.

However, Dick ends breaking the deal, turning Rose against her father and to the heroic side. Slade gets his revenge some time later by literally wiping Blud’ off the map via nuclear bombing — and that bit happens right at the same time as the events of Under the Hood. Now. What if Dick didn’t break his deal with Slade, and is still being Renegade, Deathstroke associate and Ravager’s tutor when UDRH happens?

Imagine Nightwing coming to Gotham to help with the Red Hood situation, except he’s got Rose on tow, because that was the only way Slade let him go: taking part in or at least watching a bat operation will be a meaningful experience for her. (Also dad-ing really doesn’t come naturally to this dude and he really, really need a brat-free vacation least he ends up snaping and eviscerating her)

The Bats have NO IDEA what Dick has been up to since Blockbuster’s death 8 months ago.

Feats:

Dick still too chicken to explain his last 8 months to Batman (Blockbuster’sdeath-Tarantula-jail-joiningthemob-Slade’sdeal), doing a bad job of dodging everyone’s question about why the fuck he was MIA for huit months

Tries (and fail) to hide Rose’s whole existence from the bats, ends up panicking and blurting out that she’s his sidekick (then has to pay her to play along)

the good, old, linear buildup in tension in the Red Hood investigation for the dramatic confrontation with Batman gets kinda thrown off as both the Batfam AND Jason keep getting distracted by the bits they learn about Nightwing’s MIA months

They all find out different bits separately

Babs thinks Rose is Dick’s new girlfriend and Rose gleefully plays into it. Actually angst topic because this is Tarantula trigger for Dick.

Red Hood watches in amusement Dick’s utter failure at damage control with Rose ‘Father, I crave violence’ Wilson ("No, you don’t get to gut the goons!"), finds it funny and goads her on.

Rose and Jason feed on each other’s menace gremlin energy and everyone suffer through ten times the drama. (The combined chaos is the only reason Dick manages to dodge the bat-inquiries for as long as he does)

"Are- are they—oh god, they’re flirting—"

If I were to do it character by character:

Dick: too chicken, desperately tries to believe he can dodge everything and just leave again

Rose: spends her unending feral energy in equal part on making Dick’s life a living hell and enthusiastically flirting with him, (he’s gentleman-ing the hell outa dodge). Match with Jason in freak, daddy issues, blood craving, secret longing for love, mental age, edginess and terrible flirting skill.

Bruce: hasn’t had access to his emotional support Dick Grayson for nearly a year, his communication skill has regressed to inarticulate. Distressed Fussing Hovering Brooding. He’s trying to investigate what happened to Nightwing but at the same is afraid to cross some boundary and have him go to ground again so he’s holding back a lot.

Babs: awkward mixed feelings between worry for Dick and the ex-girlfriend package of bitterness and suspicion. Suspects that Rose is Dick’s latest love interest.

Jason: in all his freshly-bathed Red Hood glory, at peak angst potential. Still a chaos gremlin who finds Nightwing’s hardships with the Ravager hilarious, and eggs her on. Also still concerned curious about wtf got to Nightwing, and trying unsuccessfully to investigate. Match with Rose in freak, daddy issues, blood craving, secret longing for love, mental age, edginess and terrible flirting skill.

Tim: has just spent the last few months with the Titans under violent attacks of Joey Wilson (check out this post it’s hilarious). Subsequently not impressed with Red Hood’s attempt in Titan Tower, also very up to date on Wilson family lore. He’s the one to figure out the shit.

Also this proposed fic ends with everyone and their mother father getting their asses kicked by Cass—as it should be.

Bonus: dialogue snippets

(Masterlist)

[zeroseuniverse]

Hear me outtt!!! Gamer/esport player! S/O with SVT since I'm a gamer also. I never found any reaction about this 🫠🫠

Seventeen w/ A gamer S/O

S.Coups – Proud but Slightly Competitive

He thinks it’s so cool that you’re a gamer and will brag about it to the members all the time. “Yeah, my S/O is actually insane at this game.” But the moment you beat him? He’s so salty. “Best out of three?” Suddenly, it’s a full tournament.

Jeonghan – Pretends to Be Clueless to Mess with You

He’ll sit next to you, watching you play, and ask the dumbest questions just to annoy you. “So if you die in the game, do you die in real life?” But when you actually try to explain the mechanics, he just smirks and somehow ends up winning against you in a match, despite acting clueless the whole time.

Joshua – Supportive but a Casual Gamer

He’s the type to admire how skilled you are but doesn’t game as intensely. He’ll play with you for fun, but if things get too serious, he’ll sit back and say, “I’ll just be moral support.” He’s always hyping you up, though—“That was so cool! You should stream.”

Jun – Gets Too Invested

If you introduce him to your favorite game, be prepared to lose him to it. He’ll be playing at 3 AM like, “One more round.” Suddenly, he’s sending you links to gaming gear and talking about upgrading your setup. You may have created a monster.

Hoshi – Loves It but Is Terrible

He really wants to play with you, but he’s just so bad. He’ll be screaming the entire time, pressing all the buttons at once, and celebrating when he does anything. “I MOVED! DID YOU SEE THAT?!” You love him, but you might need to carry him in every game.

Wonwoo – Your Perfect Gaming Partner

Finally, someone who can keep up with you. Wonwoo is the ideal co-op partner—he strategizes, plays for hours without tiring, and never gets frustrated. Late-night gaming sessions with him are peak relationship goals. If you play against each other, he’s competitive but incredibly chill about losing.

Woozi – Acts Like He Doesn’t Care but Secretly Loves It

He pretends gaming isn’t a big deal, but if he sees you too into it, he’ll start playing too—just to see what’s so interesting. And guess what? He ends up loving it. Now he’s playing late at night, fully immersed, while acting like he’s “just trying it out.”

DK – Your Biggest Cheerleader

He doesn’t care if you’re playing solo, co-op, or against him—he’s just SO EXCITED. He’ll sit beside you, gasping at every intense moment. “Omg, omg, you got this!” He might not be the best player, but he’s the best hype man.

Mingyu – The Overconfident Noob

He thinks he can beat you easily. “It’s just a game, how hard can it be?” Fast forward to five minutes later, and he’s getting destroyed. He’ll whine dramatically and claim you cheated. But don’t worry, he’ll tryhard until he actually beats you (and then he won’t stop talking about it).

The8 – The Silent but Deadly Type

He doesn’t say much while playing, but he’s crazy good. You thought you could teach him, but now he’s outplaying you effortlessly. You stare at him in shock, and he just shrugs. “Beginner’s luck.” Yeah, sure.

Seungkwan – The Rage Quitter

Gaming with him is pure entertainment. He gets SO into it but absolutely cannot handle losing. Expect dramatic reactions, screaming, and a possible controller throw. “THIS GAME IS RIGGED.” He’ll quit… only to be back five minutes later, claiming he’s “calmed down.”

Vernon – The Chill Gamer

He’s the most unbothered gamer ever. He wins? Cool. He loses? Also cool. You’re freaking out during an intense match, and he’s just like, “Relax, it’s not that serious.” But then he randomly destroys everyone while looking half-asleep.

Dino – The Excited Little Brother Energy

He treats gaming like a full-on performance. Every match is dramatic, and every win gets a full victory dance. “DID YOU SEE THAT? I’M AMAZING!” He lives for the competition, so expect 1v1 battles and challenges all the time.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 49

part 1 | part 48 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence

It's a totally normal Tuesday the day it all starts going to shit.

Eddie's got a show at The Hideout, and Wayne's got a rare night off, so Steve's at his boyfriend's place without him catching a basketball game with Wayne and Ernie. He did try to go to the show, to be fair; wanted to, but Eddie took one look at the way he was cradling the side of his head and winked at him to "sit this one out, big boy," so here he is: drinking beer with two old men and watching the most frustrating game he's seen all season.

"Oh, what the hell was that?" he begs the tiny screen, jumping out of his seat to pace a tight circle and rake his hands over his scalp hard enough to pluck a few strands. Beside him, Ernie shakes his head and mutters "goddamn disgraceful, that's what" and in the kitchen Wayne munches happily on a fresh plate of nachos, taps his bald head with a half-eaten chip and warns, "Quit tuggin' at your hair 'fore you wind up lookin' like this."

"Whatever, old man." Steve rolls his eyes, but he loosens his grip. Drags his hands down his face instead. "Don't act like you're not loving this."

Wayne laughs, a broad, smug smile that's pure Munson mischief. "Never claimed otherwise," he says, then he pops a cigarette in his mouth and tells them to get their wallets ready.

Bastard. His team's doing fine tonight. (And sure, the bet was only five dollars, but it's a point of pride, damn it.)

Steve turns his attention back to the game, where the ref is making yet another call that's so laughably bad Steve's not sure how he isn't getting decked for it. A stray elbow to the face, at least. Fucking something.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles; still pacing, arms crossed. "If they don't fire this idiot, I swear..."

He turns to Ernie for back up; remembers that Ernie's got a lapful of Misty the cat right now and quickly looks away. Creepy little thing still freaks Steve out (even if Ernie's stroking her fur like she's a harmless stress toy and not the razor-clawed, rat-chomping demon she really is.) He still can't look at her. Gets queasy just thinking about all the "presents" she's left him since he moved in.

Ernie catches the way his shoulders tense. "Didn't think you'd be afraid of a little pussy," he teases, scratching the cat behind her ears.

Misty gives a low rumble of approval.

Steve's stomach flips. "Whatever," he scoffs, looking anywhere but at them. "That thing's bad luck. No wonder we're losing."

He settles back into his seat, and the game goes on — and on, and on, until the score gets so embarrassing that Steve considers just getting up and yanking the TV plug out of the wall, or maybe storming out of the place in protest — and he's about to beg Wayne for mercy, ask him to change the station to anything else, when the front door opens so softly it sets off alarm bells in his head.

Steve whips around at the lack of sound. Knows immediately that something is wrong, because Eddie Munson doesn't do quiet. Eddie Munson comes home like fireworks going off: Crack! Whizz! Bang! He's always a burst of noise and energy; he's a fucking racket; Wayne's said so a million times — muttered it angrily when Eddie's music keeps him up, grumbled it fondly over breakfast while he tries to stop himself from falling asleep face-first in a plate of eggs.

Tonight Eddie comes home quiet as a thief. A mouse trying to evade the clutch of Misty's claws. His head's hung low as he shucks off his boots, his face obscured by frizzy hair.

Steve's across the room in a heartbeat.

"Baby?" he whispers, trying to peak behind the curtain. Eddie won't look at him, but his breathing sounds off; labored and whistling, and his hair is matted with something dark. "You okay?"

"Fine," Eddie croaks.

They both know it's a lie.

Steve lifts a hand to gently tip his chin up, but the moment his fingers graze skin Eddie winces and tugs away. "Okay," he says, pulling his hand back. "Okay, I'm sorry, just— can you look at me? Please?" He softens his voice, tries to coax Eddie out. You're safe here; you can trust me.

When Eddie finally looks up, Steve's heart lodges in his throat.

His face is ruined. Caked in dried blood, the skin below his left eye like an overripe eggplant: deep purple and threatening to split down the middle, to spill rotten juices all over the floor. There's a cut above his brow, another nick between his eyes, and— fuck.

His nose is broken.

Steve's gonna kill someone.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, deadly quiet. Whoever it is, they're not living to the morning. Steve's got a car and a nail bat and a boy with a broken nose, and he's going to kill whoever did this to him. "Eddie." He grips his biceps; shakes him a little. Insists. "Eddie, tell me who did this!"

Eddie hiccups a weak sob. Lips shiny with blood and tears, and Steve lets go; feels horrible for making it worse, for letting his anger get the best of him. He wraps Eddie up a gentle hug, cradles him against his chest and doesn't care if Ernie sees. He doesn't give a damn.

"Fucking—" Eddie grunts against Steve's shirt, his teeth chattering around the word. His throat clicks when he swallows. Sticky with blood and phlegm.

Hospital, Steve thinks. Blood loss; sepsis; shock.

Eddie gulps a ragged breath and tries again. "Fucking assholes," he gets out, "they took our- t-took our—" The words cut off with a pained whimper, and he breaks down and just cries. Cries and cries until the heaving subsides, until it lessens to muted trembling in Steve's arms. There's fresh blood on his shirt.

Eddie's blood is on his shirt.

He looks up, eyes wet and wide, and then Wayne's there; two strong, weathered hands firm on Eddie's shaking shoulders. "Is it bad?" he asks Steve. No nonsense; demanding answers. Decorated veteran.

Steve nods without a word.

"C'mon, kid," Wayne soothes. "Let's get you cleaned up."

—

part 50

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[forsaken-headcanons]

I saw an ask where you said you are an AI Builderman believer so now I can finally gain the courage to talk about this topic.

Some of Builder's "functions" have either been deleted from his very code or locked away upon being forsaken(These functions include but are not limited to his ability to manipulate and assimilate raw code and materials into anything, abilities before his rework, etc)

Doubly affected by John Doe's corruption as it makes his systems and code go bonkers

He feels really hot actually; sometimes when he overworks himself he feels even hotter to touch, which is usually when Shedletsky or someone else forces him to "cool down"

His body becomes completely cold after death.

whenever it's down time and no one's doing anything, he tries to investigate his own code in order to find a way to unlock the abilities he can, he rarely ever succeeds though and when he does he finds it locked away again a few hours after; this time with heavier security.

Once he tried unlocking an ability he had that let him communicate with other admins in hopes of contacting Roblox, and he did..! For a few seconds. He couldn't even get a single word out before finding that function completely gone and void.

Shedletsky and a few other high-ranking admins are the only ones aware of Builderman being an AI

Taph and Dusekkar had suspicions but didn't really mind it enough to confirm

If you look closer his eyes have a faint glint of binary code, but considering their situation none of the survivors have though to do just that.

When Builderman dies his eyes no longer have said glint, but for a fraction of second before he dies his eyes seemingly "bluescreen". Very few killers or even survivors notice this, however.

It's faint, but some survivors swear they can hear buzzes and feel vibrations for him whenever they're close.

Said buzzes and vibrations completely halt upon dying

He doesn't sleep, he shuts down– and when he does that the buzzes, vibrations, and even heat shut down with him– making a very good impression that he just died. This freaked out so many survivors.

Whilst seemimgly random, there's code in him that makes him simulate blinking, breathing, and even a heartbeat. He actually put this code in himself because before he did, many robloxians felt uncanny valley with him

He doesn't know his creator, only the purpose of his creation– which was to create further.

He wasn't built as an unfeeling AI, he was built with those feelings, granted he was a bit confused by them and it took him quite a while to properly name and understand them.

He was actually built with an eternal smile, before he himself got tired of it and decided to edit it to give him more range in expressions

All food he eats is automatically converted into energy as soon as it enters his mouth

- Anon™️

I love all of those so much you have no idea. A lot of these line up with my own! I'll post my own AI Builderman headcanons sometime but just know that yours are peak and real and valid and I love them.

Down as Anon™️ you go. Thank you for this post. You fed me well.

[gunnrblze]

City Dweller, pt. 1

☾ Hesh x Reader, 2k+ words, SFW

New fic based on my little Roomate!Hesh drabble :)

Hello friends, so happy y’all liked my little drabble so much! Loved seeing the comments n feedback, I’m naturally pretty iffy about my own writing so I appreciate it a lot! Here’s this lolll :)

Santa Monica was beautifully warm. Palm trees littered around, sunshine beating down during the peak hours of the day. Only remnants of a past war, a ghost of what was. Your ‘fresh start’ as you’d been calling it felt almost…conventional, all things considered. Hallmark movie-like, the apartment you’d found yourself touring looking almost suburban, but distanced enough from what you imagine the suffocation of a cookie-cutter neighborhood would feel like.

Years after the Federation had been defeated, the world attempting some chance at peace and uniformity, you needed something new. With a decent job offer, and an already established friend living in the city, you figured it made more than enough sense.

Knocking on the door of a decently sized complex, you didn’t have nearly enough time to really zone in on your anxiety and attempt to squash it. Instead, your endeavor was halted by a large, athletically sturdy man appearing in the doorway with a warm, ice melting smile. Your eyes tracing over him instead of the 207 plastered on the door.

You didn’t know what to expect, honestly. Hell, you didn’t really have many expectations for meeting Hesh, other than the involuntary assumptions you made based on the bit of information your friend had given you. But all that information came from their friend Logan, Hesh’s brother. Considering that you’d hype up your sibling in the same scenario too, you were counting on having to gain your own footing. Going in blind to meet a man you didn’t know and touring his apartment almost felt like a poor decision. But hey, if this guy was a freak, you at least had a friend who knew where you were.

Of course, you couldn’t quite form any actual thoughts for a moment, a bit too stunned with how pretty he was.

A physique damn near sculpted from marble. A smile so gentle and welcoming it made your teeth ache. Bright green eyes that made you wonder how it was possible to have a simultaneously easy-going yet poised energy. A beard that was almost starting to border into mutton chops territory, that he somehow pulled off in your eyes.

It was no wonder your internal monologue blacked out for a moment.

He welcomed you in, introducing himself first as David, then explaining that you can call him Hesh like everyone else does. You only wondered for a moment how that nickname must’ve been born from ‘David’, before he insisted showing you around the apartment.

The apartment was nice and clean, almost verging on dull, but you weren’t too surprised after being told he was an army Lieutenant. Usually gone for work, absent more than he was present. It made sense the way the kitchen nearly looked straight out of a Home Depot display. All sharp edges and clean surfaces, new stainless steel appliances that almost made you swoon. But with enough personal touch to let you know he dwells here, at least.

It got even more convenient when he showed you down the hall toward what would be your room. You tried to breathe regularly, but something about him was both refreshing and suffocating. Your eyes swept over picture frames on the wall, both new and dated photos of him and his brother Logan. A man who he vaguely resembled, perhaps a father. A woman that looked eerily twin-like to his brother…you were starting to get the picture. He gave you a cursory peak of his own room just to acquaint you with everything, the details you caught before he shut the door again already conjuring more assumptions about him. What kind of games does he play on that setup? He must really be partial to the color green. How do you even make a bed that neat? Was that a dog bed-wait, was that an actual dog too?

You must’ve been daydreaming a bit, when his slight chuckle broke you out of the trance you’d tripped into.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if Logan mentioned to your friend that I have a dog, Riley. Is that a problem?” He’d ask, voice smoother than whiskey, warm and heavy and settling into the few feet standing between your bodies. His tone was lacquered with kindness and welcoming, but his firm, assured nature stood next to you like a brick wall. Unwavering and almost comforting, for a stranger.

You explained that you didn’t mind, you liked dogs well enough, after all. And with the way he assured you that Riley was indeed, a very good boy, and went to work with him everyday, you suspected it wouldn’t be a problem. “You’ll hardly even know he’s here, usually stays in my room. He’s fully trained and housebroke, too” he followed up after seeing the quick mental debate you were going through. Just an extra, furrier roommate, no? Maybe a piece of info you’d like to know beforehand, but something inside you just didn’t care too much. Maybe it was how casual he acted about it. Just a dog, man’s best friend and all, you figured.

After the little German shepherd shaped surprise, he showed you to the second bedroom. Smaller than his, which you didn’t mind considering he claimed his stake a while ago, and it was just like the rest of the apartment anyways.

Perfect.

Or did he feel perfect? Did he, in this apartment, perhaps feel perfect? Were you being ridiculous, since you’d only known him for a mere 10 minutes so far? Surely a David Walker sized miracle didn’t just land in your lap like this. He’s just some guy, with a dog, and an empty bedroom.

There’s plenty of those. But you were starting to want this one.

Clean and spacious, perfect for all your belongings, you wondered how you lucked out. The light filtered into the room from the open blinds, and it all felt a bit tranquil and relaxing. Cream colored walls surrounding you, sturdy hardwood flooring that your shoes clacked on with every step. Hesh stood a reasonable distance from you the whole time, however you couldn’t help but feel as if his presence lingered closer. As if he were right on your heels, instead of being a respectable few feet away.

After showing you the rest of the apartment, the laundry area and bathroom just as seemingly spotless, you were already fantasizing about how you’d decorate your room and slowly worm your knickknacks throughout the rest of the apartment. When he asked you a bit about yourself, you almost looked unsure for a moment, caught off guard. Why you were faltering so much, you had to mentally blame on your lack of consistent human connection. Usually being holed up away from everyone else for work made you a bit of a recluse.

And how you could even begin to think about yourself when you had a large, square shouldered man leaning against the doorframe of his kitchen was beyond you. Those forest eyes narrowed in on you, and you only. Both staring a hole through you, and somehow keeping you all in one piece at the same time. His composed demeanor couldn’t possibly lack personality, though. His smile was something warm. That cup of coffee on a chilly morning, the one that you can feel blaze a trail all the way down your throat and throughout your chest upon first sip. So heedlessly friendly and hospitable, like a frosting that’s just a little too sweet. One that makes your stomach hurt a bit. But the ache is so tender, isn’t it?

You gave enough of an idea about yourself, not too much information for a stranger, but enough to hopefully warm him up to the idea of you moving in. And it seemed to help, or maybe it was that slight ‘when are you ready to move in?’ attitude he already seemed to harbor. As if he were just waiting for you to agree. Like he’d already decided it would work out the moment you stepped inside. It took you by a quiet surprise, the way he held the conversation in such a tone that he’d already made up his mind on you, and now it was simply your turn to decide how you felt. So self assured, so nonchalantly confident that it even made you want to stand up a bit straighter.

. . ・ 。 . ・ ゜ ✭ ・ ☽ ・ ✫ ・ ゜ ・ 。 . .

You weren’t expecting your first apartment touring to be so…immaculate, when are they ever? But you found yourself dotting your I’s and crossing your T’s on the lease paper by the end of the week, and moving your stuff in.

Not without his help, of course.

You’d insisted you could have a friend help, or call a moving company, to which you nearly watched him laugh at. The idea of paying someone money when you had him to help, seemed out of his scope of understanding. So he helped, not busy enough with work for once to assist you in moving boxes upon boxes up the stairs and into the apartment. Logan even came to help with the heavier furniture you had. You’d only briefly met him once through that mutual friend that’d recommended you as a potential roommate, and he seemed to be just as kind and friendly as his brother, only quieter. You could see clear as day how they were related, moving like a well oiled machine as they carried your bed frame up the stairs.

The two of them shared a couple looks when they naturally assumed you weren’t paying attention. But you had eyes in the back of your head while inside an apartment with two men who were technically, still strangers to you. Looks you couldn’t quite decipher, and decided to willfully ignore, lest you start jumping to conclusions and psych yourself out of this arrangement. A little smirk plastered on Logan’s face whenever he caught Hesh glancing at you. Always glancing, always looking. And you couldn’t help but notice. Your eye contact with him felt like a game, both eyeing one another and trying to pretend you really weren’t. How he managed to keep an eye and his focus on two things at once though, you just chalked up to his skills as a soldier, maybe. Because you couldn’t focus on much else whenever your eyes roamed over the back of his head, the slightly grown out brown hair that curled up around his ears, or the way his t-shirt fit across the broad expanse of his chest.

After all your things had been lugged up the stairs and into the apartment, you could take a little breather. Unpacking and really settling in would be another feat, and you wanted to start as soon as you could, despite the exhaustion from the busy day.

After thanking Logan again for helping, he left the, your, apartment. And it was odd, that this was also your apartment now. Boxes stuffed inside and name on the lease next to his. You felt like an intruder, like you couldn’t mark your territory properly since he’d done it first. Not that he felt that way, of course. It was your space now, too. Your room, your bathroom, your kitchen, your living room. Just with a man and a dog inside, too.

A man who seemed to have been harboring a spot in your thoughts since you met him a few days ago. Always on the back burner, always bouncing around like the ball in a pinball machine. That charming cadence in his voice, his little grin that seared itself into your brain. What was it about him? You didn’t know. You didn’t really want to know. He was your roommate now, you couldn’t have yourself swooning for a man who was simply kind and respectful towards you.

But now you were alone with him. And it almost didn’t even feel odd. Being alone with a man in a new city, a new apartment, would normally put anybody at least a little on edge. But he made it more delightful and pleasant than you thought he’d really even attempt to try. Was he even trying? Or did he just have the energy of a snake charmer?

It was difficult to tell, since he didn’t at all seem to regard you as a snake. No, he looked at you like you were the finest wine. Something he sought to cradle in his large hands, careful not to squeeze too tightly incase you decide to hightail it. He was charming and respectful and sweet but it felt heavy. He tried to be casual, or maybe he just was, and it worked, but his near reverence for you slipped from the cracks, and it sparked up something light and fuzzy in the bottom of your chest.

Maybe you were both being a little silly. Perhaps he didn’t get much personal social interaction outside of his own working hours either. Maybe that’s why the apartment felt both calm yet cramped with both of you inside now. You’d only known him for a handful of days so far, but he made it feel as if it were longer.

All you could do for a moment was sit on the edge of your unmade bed, and take a deep breath. You had mountains of boxes and emotions to unpack, one of which you decided to close the lid on for now.

[phightingheadcanons]

i compiled a bunch of subspace and medkit headcanons because they plague me. they plague me. they anyways . uhjjmmm subspace headcanons r. im not gonna lie i got some of these from deadplate. but. THERES!! a lot of these. be prepared 1. I don't think he can eat properly. Not only because of the rot, but because not being able to taste things irks him, so he has to make a smoothie out of it 2. I thuuink i think he already. was struggling with an ED before the disaster. and not being able to taste/the rot makes it. way worse 3. I think! I think he has bipolar and audhd. 4. He keeps his hair short on the side of the rot so it doesn't irritate it 5. hes. extremely touchy. not to be affectionate. he's just always in peoples personal space 6. Often chews on his fingernails and/or picks at his skin. bad habit of his methinks 7. i think he listens to like. metal. specifically freak on a leash and rotting in vain by korn really reminds me of him 8. scarring and burns. like. everywhere. coupled with the rot obviously. i think in his line of work he gets injuries pretty easily even when trying to be careful 9. EXTREMELY tone deaf. but also sometimes ignores social cues on purpose because he knows it annoys people 10. hates the rain. he hates the sound of it. he hates the water. it ruins his day. heres medkits ... 1. Also can't eat very well but its mostly from. after the disaster. he completely lost his appetite and also lost a lot of weight just because it was. really hard for him to find the energy to even get up let alone eat 2. generally kind of. not able to take care of himself very well. even if he can take care of others 3. extremely depressed. like. really bad seasonal depression + chronic (it gets worse when he sees snow though. reminds him of blackrock) 4. during his blackrock days he would straighten his hair. he can't afford to do that now though because its too expensive + too much energy 5. god AWFUL doctors handwriting. scythe hates it. nobody can fucking read it except for medkit 6. He has generalized anxiety, depression, and PTSD, as well as autism 7. hates being touched except for in very specific situations. he also hates being close (physically) to people 8. adding onto the last one, he HATES when people touch his back or his shoulders. IMMEDIATE fight or flight response 9. extremely bad posture. shrimp posture. im telling u 10. painted his horns teal because they were originally green. he doesn't like the color green very much. nor does he like that pinkish-red color (reminds him of subspace) 11. (somewhat canon? not the indie part) usually likes classical music. sometimes dabbles in indie music. he's not into the loud shit 12. violin and piano player .... 13. tried to sand down his fangs at one point. why? i dont know! 14. his sarcasm is crazy. if he's not being sarcastic its not him 15. loves the rain. he likes the quiet and being alone but when it's deathly silent it spikes his anxiety. so the background noise is nice. it also means he has an excuse to stay inside AND!! combined headcanons. things i have that i hc for. both of them 1. both of them have hand tremors. subspace's are a little worse though 2. even though they both have separated (and medkit really tries to stay away) they both still have habits that they got used to from being around the other. medkit still makes extra of things by accident because subspace would always steal it. subspace still keeps a blanket in the lab because medkit would always fall asleep at the desk. i could keep going on im so serious. they are so horribly intertwined in the worst way possible and even if they hate each other that red string is still there. its still there. do u get it. in this essay i will- anyways! thats it for today. sorry guys i needed to YAP

"Looking. Respectfully. Peak as always. This fits them so well that I can't even explain. I would yap more, but I'm tired, and my shoulder hurts from a shot I had recently, so another time TwT"

[justkeepwalkingnothinghere]

Raine reached peak badass in the finale and you can pry that out of my cold dead hands. Not that anybody will even try, anyway.

They were reaching unprecedented levels and it was legendary! From fighting the possession to stomping Belos for the quick, painful death, Raine did some crazy shit! And their body wasn’t even in the best condition, either!

Raine:

Suffered through the Draining Spell, pulled off Eda’s arm to save her, got turned into a puppet supposedly after having just woken up from the DS, spent Titan knows how long just standing motionless in the Archive House and relying on Eda’s visits to stay sane, got possessed by Belos, managed to undo the Collector’s puppet spell, and fought off Belos when fighting for control and definitely dislocated a limb or two.

And yet, after all that, they STILL had the energy, strength, fury and sheer fucking will to follow Belos up the stairs to the Titan’s heart AND FIGHT THE BASTARD ONE ON ONE! AND THEY NEARLY SUCCEEDED IN STOPPING HIM! RAINE HAD BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT ALREADY AND WAS WILLING TO DO ANYTHING TO MALE SURE NO ONE GOT HURT AND THAT BELOS GOT WHAT HE DESERVED!

Raine finally got the opportunity to face him, to fight him alongside the love of their life, their future son, and their technical future daughter who was then powered by the freaking Titan. They got to deliver the final blow, one of the final stomps, on their worst and most hated enemy. Raine sacrificed everything to make sure that Belos and the coven system were eradicated. To make sure that wild magic got to thrive.

And I cannot think of a more badass character than Raine Whispers. In fact, I think Eda said it best:

“The coolest, baddest, kick-buttiest witch of all time.” -Eda Clawthorne, ‘Them’s The Breaks, Kid.’

[hornyhornyhimbos]

i’d very much love and appreciate reader w/ a hand kink!! i’d be happy with spencer, eddie, or steve. you can choose:)

happy friday, fellow freaks! went with dom daddy spencer since he's the one who made me realize i have a hand kink <3

i'm not saying spencer reid is a sugar daddy... but i'm also not saying he isn't one ♡

18+ as always, mean dom!spencer x slightly bratty!afab!reader, use of a toy i sorta forgot how loud vibrators are oops, semi-public sex (in a dressing room), choking, slight spanking, reader is called good/bad girl and baby, spencer is called daddy, explicit language, and also spencer is rich in this fic because he's unit chief, 1.7K words, color-coded speaker tags, beta read by @broken-stardust!

filthy fridays | ask box

it started as a small gesture, nothing to think about really.

the two of you had found yourselves wandering from store to store, spencer having decided that it had been too long since he'd spoiled you. his paycheck was anything but small, having finally achieved the position of unit chief, and in celebration, it was only fair he spoiled the girl who'd been by his side on his way up the bau food chain.

his hands had made their way into your back pockets as the two of you walked into the lingerie store, his personal favorite store in the whole mall.

it was a small gesture, just a simple way he could have his hands on you while remaining inconspicuous. but somewhere in the mix of the sexy energy radiating throughout the lingerie store and your slight hand kink, this tiny action had you nearly weak in the knees. spencer had clearly noticed the way your breath was hitching in your throat—not to mention the flush that had spread across your nose and cheeks—but had decided against addressing it. probably just to make you even more needy, you reckoned. instead, his hands parted from your waist, a tiny kiss meeting the exposed skin of your neck.

if you hadn't been blushing before, you would've turned the color of a freshly-picked tomato after that.

"hey, baby?" he asked, innocence coating his words when he spoke. "i'm gonna go look at something really fast but you pick out whatever you want, yeah?"

without giving you time to respond, he parted from you, heading toward another section of the store. your mind wondered where he'd needed to go by himself, but you shrugged it off, turning back to the lacy pink set you'd been eyeing moments before.

you grabbed three different sets before making your way to the dressing room, catching a glimpse of spencer at the checkout counter. your brows furrowed as you thought about what he might be buying without your knowledge, but you couldn't deny you loved the idea of a surprise.

you pulled the curtain closed behind you before starting to slide off your clothes, first trying on the prettiest black satin bra you'd ever seen.

spencer's deep voice startled you as he slid behind the curtain, his body all but melding to yours due to the confined space. his breath was hot on your shoulders as he whispered, "didn't mean to scare you."

your breath hitched again. "no, it's okay, love," you reassured him.

he kissed the crook of your neck as his hands wandered up your body, palms stopping at your bra-clad breasts and cupping them like they were made to do exactly that. "just needed to get a sneak peak at all the pretty things my baby's getting for us."

your eyes met his in the mirror. "do you like this one?" you managed to ask, your chest clearly breathing harder than normal.

"'s very pretty," he answered, lips meeting your neck again. "it'll look even prettier on our bedroom floor, though."

you were convinced he'd stolen all the breath from your lungs when he moved one hand from your breast to the fastening, unhooking it with barely two flicks of his index finger. and when his lips grazed your ear and he whispered, "i got you a surprise. you wanna see?" your head was spinning so hard, it felt like you'd just stepped off the tilt-a-whirl.

after you managed to respond, he reached into the little white bag he'd brought along, pulling out a pretty, little clit sucker that you may or may not have been hinting you wanted. your eyes flickered from the toy up to his gaze, his normal honey-colored eyes now bordering on jet black. "spencer-" your protest got caught in your throat, and you cursed your body for giving away your hidden motive. of course you wanted him to use that on you right there in the dressing room, but he couldn't know that.

he began opening the package, internally thanking the maker of the toy for deciding on easy-to-open packaging. "just wanna see if it's charged," he reassured you. "might let you try it out on the car ride home if you feel up to it."

you were extremely grateful you hadn't tried on any panties yet, or else you might've ruined them before even buying them. you felt dizzy, and when spencer spun you around in one swift motion, the feeling increased tenfold.

he clicked the 'on' button, and the toy immediately came to life, so to speak. "let there be light," he smirked when the buttons glowed.

spencer's lips connected to the pulse point of your neck, like the perfect lock and key. "do you want me to use this on you?" he asked, his one hand palming at you through the satin.

"please," you said, though it was closer to a whimper.

his fingers crooked under the waistband of your now soaked panties, beginning to tug them down your body. "good girl."

your mouth fell into an open 'o' as the toy connected to your clit, a sensation you weren't quite used to but couldn't deny you were enjoying already. your head lolled back, your eyes falling closed as you settled into the vibration. spencer, however, didn't seem as pleased when he met you with a low, "who said you were finished trying on your new outfits?"

glassy eyes met dark ones as your gazes connected again. "how am i supposed to-"

"just because you can't try on the panties doesn't mean you can't try on the top pieces," he argued. and with that, he reached around you and grabbed another one of the lingerie tops. "here you go, baby."

just as you reached for the lacy fabric in his hand, the vibration of the toy increased, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. "fuck," you whimpered, "how am i supposed to try things on when you do stuff like that?"

he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "now, that's no way to talk to your daddy, especially not when he's taking such good care of you and spoiling you today."

your eyes darted away, but his free hand met your chin, pulling your face up to meet his. "do i need to punish you? show everyone in this store what a bad girl you're being right now?"

you shook your head, even though you secretly wanted exactly what he was talking about. reluctantly, you tugged on the lacy bralette, the sheer fabric not leaving anything to the imagination.

he pulled your face towards his once again, meeting you with a kiss so hard, you knew your lips would be swollen afterward. "i like this one," he said against your mouth, his tongue dipping inside it at the end of his statement. you were almost positive there were tiny crescent moons dug into your cheeks when he pulled away, glancing down to the bra you'd just tried on. "ok, next one."

and just as you suspected, the second you tried to pull the bralette off, he increased the vibrations a second time.

"fuck, how do expect me to-"

you immediately regretted the tone you'd just used. "baby, you know what happens when you cop an attitude with me," he reminded you. yes, you did know, and maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, that's why you'd copped the attitude in the first place. "bad girls have to be punished."

his hand met your throat, wrapping around it with delicious pressure. "now, take. it. off."

you managed to get the bra off, his hand releasing just long enough for you to remove the fabric, but meeting you with harder force when it reconnected. his nails dug into your skin, and you moaned at the contact.

his eyes darted to the last piece you hadn't tried on yet, a demanding expression settling on his face. "go ahead. put it on. that one's daddy's favorite."

forget the air being knocked out of your lungs. when he spoke to you like that and gave you that look, you'd just as soon assume you didn't have lungs in the first place. your orgasm was close, but you knew it wouldn't be that easy. and maybe that's why your lips decided to betray you by taunting, "i can't."

"can't or don't want to?" he rebutted, an eyebrow cocking. you knew you'd stayed quiet a beat too long when that eyebrow came down and met the other in an angry furrow.

he scoffed, moving his hand from your neck to your wrist, manhandling you in the way you usually dreamed of. "you're being an ungrateful brat, you know that?" of course you did. "now i have to punish you when all i wanted was to pamper you."

he forced your hand around the handle of the toy, shooting you a look that said, no touching. in swift motions he turned the vibrations up to the highest setting, met your neck with even harder force, and somehow managed to put on the last bra with one hand.

"are you gonna be a good girl now?" he growled, so low you barely heard it.

you somehow nodded, but you should've known that wasn't good enough. spencer repeated his question, slightly louder. loud enough to have you worried the person in the next dressing room over could hear him. you managed a breathy, "yes," as just as you did your orgasm started to hit.

spencer must've noticed your blissed-out eyes, pulling the toy away from your clit immediately. "bad girls don't get to cum," he reminded you, releasing his hold on your neck.

the lack of pressure had you dizzy, falling into his chest as you tried to catch your breath. his lips planted a soft kiss on your hair, his hands grabbing hold of your waist. "aww, is my baby all worn out after doing so much work?" he teased, palm landing on the curve of your ass with a firm slap.

you met him with soft, glassy eyes when your bottom lip puckered out. "can you help me get dressed?" you said sweetly, like you hadn't been the biggest brat to him not three minutes ago.

"well," he said, smacking your ass again, "i suppose, since you asked nicely."

-> taglist: @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @broken-stardust @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere V + H: Ace Trappola

Crunchy Henchman Energy belongs to him

He’s pissy, he’s whiney, and he ultimately will listen to whatever you say

Don’t get him wrong 

He doesn’t do this because he loves you so he says

He isn’t following you because he doesn’t have any good plans so he says

Or because he loves to see you happy so he says

Usually coupled with the Spades to his hearts 

He begrudgingly follows your dastardly plans 

A common thing you tend to nag him about is his impulsivity

Like the urge to eternally cripple the hero you were going to simply leave trapped

Or the urge to pour poison into the water supply 

“Why can’t I? We might get lucky and it’ll kill our guy!”

“No Ace! There’s a sense of principle with these kinds of things.”

He’s so used to getting scolded by you he doesn’t feel the need to pull you away

Instead, he’s the one you’re holding back

That’s why he shouldn’t have had to step in

He shouldn’t have to pull you from the edge 

Especially because someone’s given you cold feet:

“What do you mean you’re going with him?! You can’t seriously be thinking of joining that guy! He’s just trying to trick you, can’t you see that?!” 

This was stupid! Bogus! Bologna! 

To be stuck calling out to you from the docking hatch of your hover-craft as the freak in tights stood at the highest spot of the skyscraper holding a hand out to you with that disgusting look in his eyes. He felt like puking at the sight, even worse all he can see is you’re head switching back and forth as you debated. 

Why was there a decision to be made? He was your henchman! Your henchman to your villain! How dare you even look at that arrogant show-pony when he was right here!? How dare you even waver at those insipid baby blues as they offer you a life so far from your own?! 

“But Ace w-what if I really could make more of a difference…being a hero.”

“You can!” The freak interjected making your head snap in his direction. “Please! Just come with me!” 

You swayed with a decision, visibly torn between your henchman and the hero who offered a new life. Ace glared at him, looking down to silently hook his harness to the cargo bay’s safety straps. He eyed the jumpiness of your steps noting that you were not leaning anywhere just yet. He tugged at the harness, ensuring his safety, he began inching closer to you slowly releasing his grip on the hovercraft’s side doors. He was going to grab you. Take his boss back before you got any ideas. Just a couple of feet more. 

You turned back to Ace tears building from under your mask. He couldn’t understand what decision you were making but it didn’t matter; he was close enough to jump. 

“I think I’m going to–” 

Because of its idiot driver, the hovercraft shook, and your lost footing resulted in you tripping. Like the peak henchman, he was he swooped in holding you to his chest as you clung to him. This was the best! He adjusts his feet, cradling you into his chest to create the magical image of your teary eyes looking up at him. He knew it. He knew you’d pick him, in the end. 

“(Y/n)!” 

“...That’s it.” The henchman pulled one of his newest toys. Vetoed by you for being ‘too cruel’ he pulled back detonating the grenade in the direction of the hero who called your name, a name that only he gets to use

“Ace-!” 

You tried, just barely turning in time to watch the explosion of the flaming acid envelope the hero. His screams filled the night air as he melted just as all the plastic dummies had done in the testing stages before; Ace felt that it was a fitting end for a freak as dumb as him; all the better that the hovercraft pulled away blowing the liquidated remains over the city.

It brought a smile to his face.

[theflowerrooms]

Hey there, I'm a new follower. Just wanted to say I love your writing and, if you're still accepting them, I'd love to make a request.

I was thinking a Buck fic where reder is Bobby's daughter so ✨️DRAMA✨️and after a particularly steamy night together reader shows up with rope burn and bruises etc all over. Bobby ofc freaks out but the rest of the crew get the gist when Buck shows up with scratches down his back etc....

Probably not the best description I could have given but yeah... that's my overactive brain for ya 🌻

Thank you so much for requesting!!

Father’s Approval

Evan Buckley x Fem!Nash!Reader

Warnings: allusions to sex, very slight angst

Summary; You and Buck have been dating for a while now, without your father, Captain Bobby Nash’s knowledge. And one day, the odds aren’t in your favour, and Bobby finds out about Buck and you.

wordcount: 1.4k

Your morning was lovely so far, you woke up in a comfy bed, you had hot coffee already waiting for you when you woke up, and during your shower with Buck before you left, you used shampoo that made your hair surprisingly soft, it was a new part of your daily life. Another new part of your daily life, was Buck.

You'd known Buck almost four years, worked with him for two, and had been dating him for just over two months. You both quickly agreed to keep it under wraps for now, with you both being under the nose of your father, your fire captain, Bobby. Your dad loved you, more than words could ever begin to explain. He was however, overprotective to an overwhelming extent. You understood it, of course you did, he was always full of love and admiration for you, and always very protective, but especially since losing your younger brother and sister.

One of the many, many things you admired about Buck was his respect for your dad. You know he was just as nervous as you about upsetting your father with your new relationship. So you decided together that it would be best if nobody knew. Except Eddie, Eddie knew, but there wasn't much he didn't know about Buck so you weren't surprised.

You couldn't stop smiling when you were with Buck, even now, when you were by yourself in your car, you were smiling from the memory of Buck. You left his apartment in your car to go to the station, and he'd leave in his jeep a bit later, you guys weren't taking any chances getting caught.

  Buck's apartment was significantly closer to the station than yours was, you liked it, you got to leave a fair bit later and the drive wasn't very long. It was only a few minutes before you were parked at the station, about to head inside. You quickly peaked into your rear view mirror, making sure your hair hid the marks that you couldn't really hide with makeup.

  Usually, you and Buck made sure not to leave marks on each other, but last night you were both so hot and needy for one another, and it was a rough night, in the best way possible. You pulled your shirt sleeves further down your wrists to make sure the marks on them were hidden, then you finally went inside.

  Everyone was upstairs, your dad at the kitchenette, Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Ravi all sitting at the table, coffees scattered around.

  You sat down next to Hen, craning your neck to look back at her as she greeted you with a warm smile before her eyebrows narrowed.

  "Y/n? What's wrong with your neck?" Your dad questioned you. It took you all of two minutes to get found out. You could feel your cheeks burning, you glanced at Eddie who seemed torn between staring at you and avoiding eye contact.

  With a smile, you looked back at your dad. "It's nothing dad, no need to worry." You kept it short, sweet and simple. He left it alone, thankfully, but obviously there was some new tension, he was suspicious of you, you knew.

  A few minutes passed, some of the tense energy dissipated in the room, but you blew it, again. Your sleeve rolled up when you reached for your coffee, Hen noticed it immediately, gasping before humming, immediately understanding. Unfortunately for you, it alerted your captain, who immediately gasped himself.

  "Who's doing this? Is someone hurting you? Can-", Your father immediately began before Hen cut him off.

  "Bobby- everything's alright! She's just, having some good time with a friend of her's... a male friend." She saved you, Eddie snickered softly and you wanted to throw something at him.

  "You have a boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me?" You couldn't look him in the eyes, he looked so dejected like you knew he would.

“Well, I just wasn’t ready to talk about it y’know?” Your voice shook slightly. You felt so anxious, in this situation you were risking your relationship with your dad, as well as Buck’s relationship with him. You wondered how this would affect your relationship with Buck.

“Okay, well. You know you can talk to me. When you’re ready.” Bobby smiled, his cheek twitched which gave away how awkward he felt. Still, you were grateful that he was giving you your space, and giving you the respect you desired.

You smiled and nodded, looking down at the table and prayed that nobody could see the blush on your face or tell how anxious you were feeling. You almost spared a glance at Eddie, but you were confident that he was already looking at you holding his laughter.

Footsteps up the stairs distract you from this, you are grateful for the attention to be elsewhere, but then immediately you were anxious once you realize it was Buck.

Everything seemingly went back to normal, Buck dropped his bag on the counter, grabbed some food from the kitchen and took a seat next to Eddie, your dad handed him a cup of coffee, and he took it gratefully. However, it seemed like everything was working against you both. They fumbled along the way and hot coffee got spilled over Buck’s, arm and chest.

First, you were worried about him getting burnt, then you wanted to help him clean the mess. But instead, Buck just pulled off his shirt.

“Always be prepared, right?” Buck smirked and turned around to his bag, presumably to grab a shirt, but what he accomplished was revealing the scratch marks you’d left along his back, as well as the hickeys below his collarbone.

You felt like you were going to throw up, first you look at your dad he was just rolling his eyes, buck was a player. Of course he’d have scratch marks on his back. Then you looked at Eddie whose face was just as red as yours only from holding in laughter.

“Oh! It’s Buck! Buck’s your new boyfriend!” Ravi exclaimed, everyone’s eyes were on you, including your boyfriend and your father. He looked at Buck and then back at you.

“Please see me in my office.” You couldn’t read Bobby’s tone, he went for the stairs, you and Buck didn’t waste any time going after him.

The energy in his office was tense. He was at his desk while you and Buck sat in front of him. He was looking at you both, you couldn’t tell if he wanted one of you to speak before he did or not.

“Captain I-” Buck couldn’t get two words in before your dad cut him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked his arms were leaning against his table, he looks like he wanted to stand up, but held back. “ why didn’t you think you could tell me?”

“Dad I’m sorry, we wanted to. We just weren’t sure if it was the right idea right now. I didn’t wanna make you upset, and I know there’s some rules about fraternizing with coworkers, we were just trying to play it safe.” Your mouth was going a mile a minute you were sure that you were visibly anxious, Buck reached over and grabbed your wrist with his hand, holding it gently gliding his thumb against your skin.

“Bobby I really care about your daughter. Honestly she she means the world to me I don’t wanna cross any boundaries but I really enjoy being with her and I would never hurt her or anything like that I promise” Buck swore, his grasp on your wrist tightening just slightly.

“Buck. I know you’re not going to hurt her. I know you’re going to treat her the way she deserves. I’m not mad at you for being in a relationship. If anything Y/n I wouldn’t want anyone less than Buck for you.” Bobby shook his head. “ I’m just sorry that you both felt like you had to hide it from me. You’re my daughter and I love you. Buck, you’re like a son to me. I love you too. If you want my approval you have it, please just know you don’t have to hide that from me.”

“Thank you, dad, really. I’m sorry we didn’t come to you before we were just- I don’t know, nervous.” You smiled softly at your dad, leaning your head towards Buck slightly.

It was comfortable in the room for a moment, your dad looked at Buck again. “Buckley if you ever leave a mark on my daughter again I will knock your teeth out.”

“Yes sir.” Buck’s reply was immediate, and you smiled slightly, knowing there would definitely be more marks in the future.

Thank you so much for reading!

I love writing requests, they’re always welcome, loved, and appreciated.

[serenequeenofeverything]

Daily pull-a-card reading

Daily pull-a-card, is a daily tarot reading in which ill pull one card for every group.

Disclaimer: sometimes i might pull an extra card or two that i wont mention but will definitely take into consideration.

Lots of grammar mistakes ahead bc fuck english.

For September 8-9th 2023

Group i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi

i

The high priestess

U seem to be very connected and in touch with ur emotions, you are at ur peak intuition-wise but why do i see you doubting urself? Why are u so unsure? Almost ur not giving urself the benefit of the doubt, actually quite the opposite. You are not sure of urself whatsoever, but im here to tell what the universe (god, the angels or whatever u believe in) wants you to know : you are on the right path. U are exactly where u r meant to be. U are as connected to ur higher purpose as one can be. There is nothing to fear. You are on the right path. Your own path. Trust yourself a bit more.

A song recommendation (which i reallllllllly urge to listen to bc u cant imagine how strongly this came through, U MUST LISTEN TO IT) :

ii

Ten of wands (r)

Let go of it. The burden you are carrying is not worth it, i don't exactly know what it is, it might or might not be important but here's the thing love, you are more important. U r really precious, u truly don't deserve to carry this baggage, it is just weighing you down. So free yourself, love. I know u can do it, you too know too. My bird of paradise, fly.

A song recommendation that i really wish u to listen to:

iii

The world

My god, you are the girl. Darling you ARE THE GIRL. honestly i dont even need to advice u, all im gonna say, you are the girl. you are the one, i truly truly love your energy. Baddest bitch in the game lmaoo.

I said im not gonna advice you, but i cant stop me, so here it goes, STOP LOOKING INTO THE PAST. What's past is past. Fuck him, fuck them, they didnt deserve you. Look ahead so much is waiting for you, somewhere is waiting for you. And this time, they will deserve you. U will watch it begin again, only better.

A song recommendation that i NEED you to listen to (make sure u listen to taylor's version only tho 🔪🔪)

iv

9 of swords

Hey love, listen to me very carefully, YOU CANT BALANCE IT ALL. whatever you are trying to balance, is taking a toll on you. It's too much work and it's fucking you up mentally. It's too much and read to this even more carefully YOU ARE NOT TO BLAME. Ur only human. Either give one of it up, or just free yourself from both( i suggest this). Life is much more than this situation that you are in. And there's better days to come. But you take this decision. U need to take this decision.

A song recommendation that im certain you already know but i think would a good awakening for u :

v

Knight of cups

He is very close. Nearly here. And my god, ur night in his shinning armor is one hell of a night ( THE BEST INTENTIONS LITERALLY ) . Idk girl what u have been manifesting, but that shit is CLOSE, very freaking close. My advice? Just keep doing whatever ur doing. U r doing good, and u will do even better.

Song recommendation(huh... interesting, idk i got this song, but it came very strongly, so listen u never know what's in it for u) / interestedly three things came on strong 1. "Combat" 2. " they see right through me, can you see right through me" 3. "Cause all my enemies started off as friends"

vi

Page of wands

Oh my god, this was like the messiest group everrr! Here's the thing lmao u got many cards, but it just kept going back and forth but one thing im certain about is the page of wands energy all over you. So this group are just very young compared to the rest, or just not in control of their life whatsoever.

For some i see patents getting divorced, families arguing, not very good home environment. And then there's u, amidst all this mess, the shinning one. U have many goals, you are a seeker and a dreamer, u want more. Im hearing " an art deco, Shining like gun metal" and u want more. U want more for you, u want the light, the fame and everything else too. A hungry soul.

" i want my cake and i wanna eat it too"

My advice? It dont matter. U will do as u wish, no one can stop u nor change you. U remind me too much of myself, i know ur ache.

Your song recommendation? Art deco. That song describes you perfectly.

Anyways now that's over, y'all better follow me, i mean who will do u better than i?

Alsooo u can always submit what u want me to do a reading on next by simply commenting ur subject of interest ( no private readings bro i aint got no time for that)

Anyways peace out, bye.

[thefrenchfryturtle2]

Day three of Echoes of Wisdom

Spoilers under cut ofc

is it echos or echoes-- I think it's echoes

I STARTED EXPLORING THE WETLANDS AAAA

THE DEKU SCRUBS ARE SO CUTE *feral screaming*

I have no idea what im supposed to do in the lost forest... the level three sword boarblin? is scary- my snakes couldnt defeat it :(

theRE ARE WIzZROBES IN THIS GAME?!?! NOOOOO but also yay because they're op too

Man im facing so many op monsters that my snakes cant do anything anymore :(

I saw this white and gold lizalfos? in one of the caves and it killed me-- any tips??

The little deku scrubs are so cuteeeee

The sweet shop has been taken over by spiders... and the deku scrubs are.. eating it

Smoothies supreme

I know the deku scrubs are mean to outsiders but theyre too cute for me to hate-

Pi! Pi! Pi! THEYRE SO CUTE HAVE I MENTIONE DTHAT YET???

I'm still trying to collect every single pot, statue, and bed in teh game.. I have gerudo pots, royal pots, and normal pots. Old bed, soft bed, and zelda's bed. I also have meat, fish, and carrot. I dont know what im supposed to do with the teddy bear....

Lol thestupid scrub that jumped into the rift to save his lover.... i thought it was super cute at least

EVERYTIME SOMEONE MENTIONS LINK I AM HEARTBROKEN- IM MORE USED TO PEOPLE TALKING BAOUT ZELDA AND ITS JSUT SO WONDERFUL HOW THE TWO ARE LITERALLY FATED FOR EACH OTHER! (yes im a zelink shipper but depending on the universe i also love milink, midlink, sidlink, revalink etc)

Bro Impa's brother (sorry i forgot name, i only talk to him to stalk link and upgrade my sword) is lore-dumping things about link to me and im slurping it up like soup. bro caught in the rift and freed himself and others? PEAK. except he cant save himself now he's trapped in the diamond lol. He doesn;t have the op echo skills

speaking of which, i love how they let her fight. in her own way. Id love it more if she could fight(i mean she can in swordsman mode) but having her unique style of fighting by throwing rocks, spawning snakes, or full on miniboses on enemies is peak imo

Bro i need more zelda content. As soon as i finish this game my daily dopamine is gonna crash like the stock market and im already on max dosage of my antidepressants--

ZELDA GAMES ARE MY ANTIDEPRESSANTS NOW!!!

Anywhoo= deku scrubs are so cute

Where's the great deku tree tho?? I think either in that lost forest area or the (wait north, east, south, west--) east area of the wetlands that i havent explored yet

Im surprised that the dekus are in a wetland/jungle area. I thought they'd be in a woodsy forest. I mean in majoras mask they are in a swamp i just thought they were kokiri and koroks or wtv and got so confused cuz why aint the great deku tree with the dekus???? i think im missing some lore--

have i mentioned how cute the scrubs are. Their language, their huge heads and tiny bodies, the "pi" sounds they make. mwah, chefs kiss. New fav species???? Idk, they're tied with zora in first place only because i have a mipha and sidon bias.

I miss the totk/botw era and the thing abt playing the different games is the whole new world part of it. I keep expecting to see people from previous games (for some reason Dampe is in both links awakening and eow so im having some suspicions....) Like even references to other games? (ik jabu jabu is) I mean i'll probably see some later on.

Are there dragons in this game??? Goddess?? Well i know the prime energy sources are connected to the goddess in the Din, Nayru, and Farore region... Lanaryu, Eldin, and Faron. (i love their names so freaking much) but are we actulaly gonna see them????

*more feral screeching. grabs closest deku scrub by the neck and yeets into microwave /affectionately*

The dripptune toads are cool. They don't attack, they make rain go rain, they're cute little guys :). And thank goodness you don't slip when you climb rocks-

HAVE I MENTIONED HOW IN AWE I AM THAT ZELDA IS A PRO ROCK CLIMBER AND VINE SWINGER???

Not me with my jump boost bracelet jumping over trees instead of taking the path....

Also not me making so many unfortunate smoothies...

i yapped abt the game to my friend during PE (im a minor okay...) and she told me that im overloading her with information... im too autistic for this world--

Wait i forgot stuff from yesterdays post - it was hilarious when the zora guy's house got destroyed.

I now have parrots, crows, and seagulls. WHERE ARE MY LEVEVL TWO ROPES??? /snakes WHERE ARE THEY?? I NEED StroNGER SNAKE ARMY

There was an impostor among us... turns out to be some random dude lmao (TMNT REFERENCE????)

yeah. I am obsessed and it's only been three days. I'm typign this while im in my zelda hoodie next to my great deku tree legos and my totk calendar and my link cosplay photos and my twilight princess link figurinne and my korok legos and my korok plush and my wind waker figurine by my handmade sword sheath that's holding the master sword with my handmade majoras mask hanging off it... i think i'm normal right-

Okay what else-- I think i'm going to continue it sometime later this week because I have a project coming up...

Once again thanks for tolerating me guys, all your reactions make my day <3

(not my drawing or gif. it is so cute i want to cosplay her now)