#hope this is okay!

[itsthuhboys]

Dean eyed her with disbelief, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of the glass in front of him, as if hoping for answers to materialize from it. "Sure, you can try," he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "But good luck finding a hellhound that’s in the mood for a game of fetch instead of, I don’t know - tearing your freakin' face off."

"okay  but.....  if  you  can  train  a  hellhound  to  be  a  bad  puppers,  technically  you  can  train  them  to  be  good  puppers."

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!

When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.

He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”

“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”

“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”

Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.

“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”

“Should I be?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”

It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.

“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”

Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”

“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”

“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”

“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”

Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”

“Him. I was no better than him.”

Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”

“If the mustache fits.”

“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.

“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”

“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.

Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”

Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.

“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”

“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”

Tommy nodded. “There it is.”

“Listen, Tommy, I-”

“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”

And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.

“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”

“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.

“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”

“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”

It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”

“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”

“I didn't know that.”

“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”

Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.

“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”

[war-forged-storms]

Ok but having really wide hips makes the idea of being topped very 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Like I’m just imagining taking it from behind and having them grab onto them so tight, feeling them pressing into my skin and leaving bruises, or to have them gripped while they give me head and draw little shapes with their thumbs is just 🫣💕

[mynameisjag]

For @babbling-babull and their prompt!

Plastic Man gets mistaken for a ghost.

Hope you enjoy it.

“Under the Ecto-Acts, you must surrender and give yourself up for extermination and experimentation!”

Plastic Man just sighed as he sagged like a wet noodle on the light post he was on top off, “Jeez, you guys are relentless.”

White suited men had their guns aimed up at him, they had been nonstop on their hunt of him which was more annoying then anything else.

Like come on already!

The first group he had taken out by wrapping around them and taking them for a spin as a giant ball, the second group he took out with the first in a game of bowling ball. Then there was the two who rudely interrupted his lunch at the diner and boy did they not care for being juggled out the door.

Taking the form of one of the vans steering wheels and trapping them inside as the kept going around and around and around a turn about probably didn’t help.

The suits in that escapade went from white to a mix of colors after all the spinning got to them.

Also the pickpocketing…so much pickpocketing…actually they might be after him more for that then these so called Ecto-Acts…which sounded fake. No one in the League ever mentioned them before.

Speaking of which, he can hear the faint buzz of a com link beeping at him to connect, “Yellow! Plastic here!”

He brought one of his hands closer to his face, forming his hand into shape of a googled eyed Flash as the man began speaking, “Plastic Man, hi! Um, so, yeah, there are no laws or Ecto-Acts, no-one knows what those men are talking about.”

“Well, they sure act like they knew what they were talking about,” he extended an eyeball out like telescope, eyeing the group below as the continued on their rant.

“Yeah, so, there’s an investigation now, think you can round them up and get them ready for transport?”

Patrick popped everything back into place, now standing on top of the light pole like Superman, “Are you kidding me, I can do it faster then you can get here!”

He precede to slinky his way down, his presence signaling the men to start shooting and missing ever shot.

“I’ll take that bet!”

It was a bet that Flash lost…he was always late to the party and this time would be no different.

[aeperol-spritz]

Hello, lately i'm into sub dick grayson. If you could write one and you have some idea i'm very thankfull, he's kind of cocky and sass him act being brat so should put him to his belong

DICK GRAYSON who whines as you stop the slow roll of your hips, one hand gripped at the hair on his nape ‘I told you I was busy, did I not?’ you look down at him ‘but you you still had to push my buttons’ tsking at his insistence to bother you, when you very clearly told him you had an important meeting today. ‘yeah, but you love it’ he smirks, trying to roll his hips up to meet yours. A soft slap to his cheek and a narrowed gaze is all it took to shut him up. ‘why must you insist on being a brat?’ you grab his jaw ‘I don’t like when my baby acts like a brat’. He huffs, once again trying a futile effort to meet your hips ‘maybe i’m starved for attention’ he taunts. You squeeze his jaw tighter, eyes narrowing dangerously ‘you saying I don’t give you enough attention? hm? that i’m not good to you?’ punctuated by a roll of your hips he lets out a stuttered gasp ‘because if that’s true then I may as well stop. Since i’m not good to you’ with a teasing smirk you let go of his chin.

He lets out a pleading whine, hands threatening to move from the bed frame, where he was instructed to keep them. ‘please, baby please’ he downright whimpers ‘i’ll be good. please just keep going’. With a smirk you straddle his lap once again, continue the rhythmic rocking of your hips as he babbles out broken pleas to keep going. ‘see. all you have to do is ask’ you coo ‘I don’t like my baby being a brat. I much prefer him to be all sweet’

[imagionationstation]

Happy Birthday, @phoebepheebsphibs!

Can’t wait to see what joys you bring to the fandom next!

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

toast man based off of THIS POST of mine

[oksfranta]

🌈Louis admiring the fan rainbow project in Vancouver🌈 (requested by @theirloveisgross) [x, x]

[bae04xx]

Heyyy I just saw it post and like I couldn't resist sending in an ask (or request if you will)!! If you want to could you write a bill cipher (yes ik��) x reader where he and the reader are dating but get into an argument and he just says/does sum really mean stuff?? Fluff ending tho please I can't take only angst lmao, for the reader i would pref a Fem reader but gn is fine to!! Also for bill could he be in his triangle form?? (I'm so sorry if this is a long ask💀💀) but yeah that's it!!

One last thing if you don't mind could I be the 😻 anon so like if I send a ask/message I will add that and yk its me!!

-😻

hey ofc, sorry don’t check my tumblr that often! i would love to :)

thanks 😻 anon :)

bill cipher x fem! reader

angst and fluff 🖤☁️

i grabbed my bags out of my car boot, harshly gripping them between my fingers, which the knuckles of began to loose their colour from the chill in the air. after shutting the car doors and locking it up i begin storming down the pebbled drive towards my little cottage of a home. i sigh as i drop my bags and twist the key into the lock. i walk into the warmth of my house- silence greets me. after a full day at work, a very busy day might i add, then running about 5 errands i expect my home to be as i left it, cleaned to perfection. my eyes squint at the crumbs left all over hallway’s floor, i walk through them and set my bags onto the kitchen’s table- only to see condiments and dirty dishes scattered on the counters.

i quickly put my food shopping away, then hastily clean the house top to bottom, from hoovering to polishing to mopping to cleaning all of his dirty clothes because god forbid he contribute anything to this house and take any weight off my already drowning shoulders. i bury my face into my hands and curl up on my sofa, after sitting like this for a few minutes i decide to sit up and distract myself, flipping through a few tv channels to find a decent one.

i wonder why i’m even here, i was only meant to be in gravity falls temporarily, after my mother decided i was too much for her, she shipped me off to live with my aunt for the summer- aunty suz, or as the locals called her, lazy suzan. she ran a diner, which i helped out with as my keep, and there i met the twins. i felt like mable understood me, she really helped me deal with my mental health and overcome it all. she was my bestfriend- until i fell for him. i made the stupid mistake of choosing bill cipher, a living breathing demon, over my bestfriend. and now i’m stuck in this hell hole- gravity falls.

“loving boyfriend my ass..” i mumbled, throwing the tv remote to the ground in frustration.

“what about me were you saying, peach?” he smirks, materialising out of no where, with a snarky expression.

“what the fuck have you been doing all day cipher? i work my ass off and i come home to the house a state?” i plead, standing up to be someone as tall as the floating figure.

“woah woah woah, don’t be so aggressive peach, calm it and remember who you’re speaking to,” he warns, i laugh at him.

“i do everything for you cipher, i have up my life for you and this is the thanks i get? no support, messing with my home and threats? i have every right to be angry at you, you always do this!”

“do what exactly, peach?” his eyes narrow at me, staring me down.

“fuck me over! you expect to be fed, even though you don’t need to eat and can make anything you want appear but no- i have to supply it for you, to clean in a clean house but it’s fine for you to constantly mess it up, and to leave for days at a time with no warning and then just appear back and expect me to be fine? and treat me like shit!”

“i can do whatever the fuck i want peach, whatever i want-“ he grabs me by the chin, “you listen to me, you’re a puppet in my hands, you’re lucky i’m even giving the time of day. you’re only around because i like you, and you’re so lucky i like you because do you wanna know what would happen if i didn’t?”

…

“you’d be dead, rotting your own personal hell. so show me a little respect? don’t forget your place.”

i push myself away from him, i regretfully look in my eyes, i don’t know what to do, so i just stand there, scared, confused, anxious yet angry.

“i’m going, don’t try and get in my head, i don’t want you there.” i announce, before storming off and grabbing my handbag.

“i’ll never get out of your head, you belong to me remember, you’re nothing without me.” he announced, as though he’s just next to me but he isn’t. i’m in the car, applying as much pressure to the accelerator as i can- and he’s no where near me. he’s in my fucking head again. i have no space, no boundaries, i’m not just me, i’m him too- and i have no choice. i can’t escape.

i break as hard as i can, in the middle of a road, no cars were within a mile radius of me, perks of living i. a quiet town. i scream, a blood curdling scream, my nails clawing into my h/c, tears stream out of my eyes. sobbing uncontrollably i feel an arm snake around me, pulling me close.

he’s shushing me, trying to calm me down as a shriek and cry into his chest, not sure if i should push him away or accept him embrace. his boney hands stroke my h/c and instantly calms me, not by my choice though- the bastard is in my head again.

“i’ve given everything for you bill.” i state, wiping my tears away, a dead look in my eyes.

“i’m sorry peach,” he hugs me tightly, “i know i’m shitty, but i’m so sorry.”

and he just holds me, let’s me stay in his arms, i focus on my breathing, as he plays with my hair, he whispers a small ‘i love you’ in my ear, i hum back to him, too exhausted to process what’s really happened.

i wake up in my bed, changed into my favourite fleecy pyjamas, a very worried demon next to me.

i yawn, stretching my arms up, turning to him i say “and how did i get here?” my voice a little gruff from sleepiness.

“you don’t think i was going to let you sleep in the car do you? what kinda demon do you think i am?” he replied in his usually snarky yet flirtatious voice.

“ah yes sorry, you’re such the gentleman- how could i forget,” i giggle back at him before rolling away to the other side of the bed.

“i really am sorry y/n, i’m gonna try more, for you peach,”

“i love you bill,”

“i love you more peach,”

a comfortable silence surrounds us, i sigh before deciding to get up, yet just as a i begin to take the duvet off me i get it pulled start back on.

“what’re you thinking for breakfast peach? my treat, you just stay snuggled up in bed,”

“i bought some croissants yesterday, they’re in the cupboard,” i muse, before grabbing my book off the bedside table. bill let’s out a laugh.

“my treat, you just wait and see what i’ve got planned peach!”

[paxthepuppycat]

hey i saw your most recent stimboard post and thought it was super cute could i request one for a king cheetah?? /nf /pos

thank you in advance!!

Cheetah Stimboard!

[gildedcagc]

closed for: @dysnomiias

muse: elowyn shin.

" why do you even pretend to care? "

[thefiendio]

A Small Miguel Fic

This is for @mettreads

Hope you like it!

Requested things: Teasing, strap, hinted at chubby reader, dom reader, fem reader, and overstimulation.

Added: Bondage, begging, and praise

(Sorry for any errors! It's 3am and I haven't slept in like 3 days lmao)

You smile gently at the beautiful man tied to the bed that you are overlooking before peering down to the strap-on that is resting on your hips, in the place of where an actual penis would sit. Shifting as the dull pressure from the toy on your clit isn't enough to satisfy what you actually want, you lube the fake dick up, making sure to make eye contact with him so he knows what you are going to do to him.

Knowing that he is about to get fucked into the mattress, he tries to pull against the restraints. You stop him with your words of "Baby, you will get a reward soon, just be patient."

Your words do what you want them to, because he stops tugging and relaxes, keeping his red eyes on you, searching for any movement from you.

You finish your ministrations and gently climb on the bed with him, it creaking under your weight. You spread his twitching legs and let them rest on either side of you while you sit pretty in between them. having already prepped him you gently raise yourself and line up with his awaiting hole.

Some of his semen from the last two rounds of you prepping him sat on his stomach, which tensed as you started entering him. The strangled moan he let out when you got halfway inside made you clench around nothing, the other knob of the toy doing nothing to pleasure you.

Wanting him to make more noises for you, you pushed all the way in him in one movement, making him let out a moan while he threw his head back. He wrapped his muscular legs around your plush waist and locked his ankles together, keeping you still.

After around 20 seconds, he scooted down, giving a test thrust inside him, and he shuddered. Smiling down at him, you started moving, slow at first. When he begged for you to go faster, who were you to deny him?

When his non-artificial penis bobbed, and his moans became whinier, you knew he was close. By this point he was already a babbling and begging mess, so you figured that telling him to hold it would be cruel, so you gave him permission.

Immediately after this, he came. Hard. Like throwing-his-head-back-and-almost-screaming hard. That was so hot from your point of view. He was breathing heavily, quiet groans spilling out of his mouth when you asked, "Do you think you have another one in you baby?" You smiled when he gave a rapid nod.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you moved his left leg over your right shoulder and started moving again. This round, his moans were really whiny, and any sense of dignity he had left was completely gone. From this angle, you could see how sexy his arch was. You also could see his slutty waist and you were jealous of anyone that's lucky enough to see it.

Before long, he came again with a loud and screaming moan. Deciding that it was enough for tonight, you stayed still until the aftershocks died down, giving him sloppy kisses as well.

When he was calm enough, you pulled out, him whining at the loss of friction, and grabbed a rag to clean him up. Then you started on your lovely aftercare procedures.

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

Hope that was good! I tried my best lol.

[deeranon]

Dangers and Dragons | BNHA/MHA X animalistic!reader

Summary: not all quirks are blessings. Especially when they make you want to attack your friends and tear your enemies to literal shreds. Yet, where did it all start?

Chapter 1 | The domino effect

Dragons: mythical creatures of legend.

In literature, dragons are often depicted as mindless beasts bent on destruction and killing, or merely as glorified mounts for humans. It's rare to find works of fiction that portray dragons as intelligent creatures.

This, however, was the real world—a world divided between those with quirks and the quirkless. To you, dragons were everything, because you were a dragon. Or rather, in the eyes of non-dragon people, you were someone who could transform into a dragon. You didn't fault them for this distinction. In an era where quirks could manifest in countless ways, it was challenging to discern where "person" ended and "quirk" began.

Not to you though.

You were different. You knew it. They didn’t.

They were lucky. You didn’t know if you were.

After all, to turn into something imaginary you first had to take pieces of things that already existed and then mold them into what was once pure imagination until it was something all its own.

Whenever you transformed, the world changed. Your thoughts, your perceptions—all of it was different. Especially words. They always meant more than one thing because they just could.

Your mother wasn’t just your mother, she was all of these smells mixed together that made her unique. She was motherloveunderstandinghomesafety.

And your father wasn’t just your father, he was lovingfatherhomeprotection. He smelled like dreams.

And you were you. You were one with the air and the forest was yoursyoursyours and your friends were funnylovingstronggood and you should protectkeepsafesave.

When you were young, you saw nothing wrong with the way you thought or how sometimes the voles in the field looked appetizing and it would just be so easy to dig them out and bite into their throats until they went limp.

That is, until you almost lost yourself to the beast at the age of seven and nearly tore a robber’s arm off because he smelled of dangerironbadhurtothers and he was not allowed to trespass on what was yoursyoursyours.

The man dressed in black let out a blood-curdling scream, his fiery red eyes widening with such intense fear that his pupils contracted to mere pinpoints. His right arm, now slick with a vibrant crimson coating, was clutched tightly against his chest. Meanwhile, his other hand frantically scrabbled across the wooden floorboards, desperately seeking the broken knife that lay just out of reach. The rich, dark liquid pooled around him, seeping into the porous wood grain with an almost eager intensity.

You stood there, your draconic features set in a perplexed pout. Your muzzle, now stained a deep, dark burgundy, glistened in the dim light. The concept of his terror eluded you completely. After all, in your mind, he was unequivocally the antagonist - the villain of this scenario.

Your young mind conjured images from the television shows you'd watched. Villains were supposed to be larger than life characters, cackling maniacally as they boasted about their latest nefarious schemes. They were meant to be relentless in their pursuit of evil, determined to the very end. They certainly weren't supposed to cower and whimper like the pathetic human before you. In your limited understanding, villains simply did not experience fear.

Curiosity piqued, you took a deliberate step forward. Your razor-sharp claws sank into the viscous pool of blood with a squelch. The sound seemed to trigger something primal in the man, for he let out an even louder scream, his entire body now wracked with violent tremors.

Suddenly, the tense silence was shattered by the crisp sound of breaking porcelain. In a last-ditch effort of self-preservation, the burglar had seized your father's prized vase and hurled it in your direction. The delicate object smashed against the floor, scattering shards across the room as the man desperately pushed himself further against the living room wall. A trail of crimson followed his movements, painting a macabre path across the floor.

Undeterred, you continued your approach. In your childlike innocence, you chastised him for potentially staining the rug your mother had so recently cleaned. You even expressed concern about your father's reaction to the broken vase upon their return from their dinner date, which you expected at any moment.

"G-G-GET A-W-WAY! S-STAY BACK!" The red-eyed man's voice rose to a feverish pitch, the volume causing you to wince in discomfort. The disconnect between your perception and reality widened further. In your mind, you were simply engaging in conversation. The fact that your words emerged as menacing growls and snarls completely escaped your young, dragon-shaped consciousness.

To him, you weren’t speaking Japanese. All the man could hear was your angry growls and snarls as you encroached on him like a leopard stalking it’s prey. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape.

The washing room had a door connected to the outside…if he could get past you then he would make it out of here with his life!

You took another step forward, blood squelching underneath you as you prowled towards him.

All of the man’s thoughts of escape died immediately. The you were no bigger than a Doberman, yet had teeth and claws sharper than knives. Also, you had wings. Wings. He couldn’t outrun a monster with wings!

The man waved the broken knife around your face, making you lean back. Mama always said that knives were dangerous and not to be played with.

But you were a dragon. Knives could not hurt you. Let’s end this before mothersafetylove and fatherprotectionhome get back.

Yes. That was a good idea! Beat the villain up just like the heroes on TV! That will teach him not to mess with your family!

Just like the heroes on TV. Don’t let him get away.

You wouldn’t let him get away! This robber was going down!

Once and for all.

You crouched low to the blood soaked floor, tail swaying behind you as you prepared to jump. You’d leap onto the man’s head and knock him unconscious in one fell swoop!

More than unconscious.

You’d be a hero!

You would always be a dragon.

You would always protect what is only yoursyoursyours.

No matter what it takes.

The man looked at you, teary eyes wide with a fear ingrained in all living beings: the knowledge that death was near. The brownish-black hair peeking out of his mask was sticky with dried blood. “I-I-I SAID STAY BACK!” he shrieked, dropping the shattered knife as he quaked.

You ignored the terrified man’s wail, ready to lunge at him when there was a click.

The front door opened, revealing your parents.

You stopped in place. The man let out a relieved sob.

Mama let out a choked gasp, her outfit stained as she rushed to pick you up and hold you away from the bloodied and sobbing burglar. Her eyes were so wide they resembled saucers, she never let her gaze leave you. She turned your head this way and that, trembling at the sight of blood that wasn’t yours while looking for injuries. You had none.

Papa already had a phone to his ear, voice hoarse as he called for heroes. It wouldn’t be long before sirens started to wail outside of your house as heroes took over the scene.

As you looked between your parents, you noticed something. They didn’t let you out of their sight. Never looking at the villain who broke in. Not even once.

You looked up at them, scales dried with a man’s blood while pressed against Mama’s favorite outfit, and saw the distrust in their eyes. The fear. Both directed at you.

For the first time since you got your quirk, you realized that maybe being a dragon wasn’t as cool as you thought.

You lowered your bloody head in shame, cowering against your mother for even a sliver of reassurance. You didn’t know what you did wrong, but you knew you probably did something bad.

You were a hero….right?

Letting the dragon do whatever made people scared, you had realized at a mere seven years of age. Humanity had looked at you funny when you once talked about how fun it might be to chase down foxes in the fields or attack pigeons sleeping on rooftops because all it wanted to do was funplaydowhatevereatplayplayplay.

You realized the looks now. You would never be able to forget them. So, you vowed to never transform again. Not if you could help it.

It hurt not being able shift. The other children at school always thought you were awesome and cool and a thousand other things when you were large and scaly and you. You were a child and nothing really mattered more than who wanted to play with you, what you were having for lunch, and apparently the most important factor— what your quirk was.

Who you were allowed to play with depended on how cool the other first graders thought your quirk was, because the quirkless were boring and weak. At least, that’s when everyone else said. You didn’t think quirks mattered very much. It didn’t matter what they looked like or what their quirk was, to you, if a classmate was a jerk—they were simply that. A big jerky jerk. It was totally not related to their smell connecting to their personality whatsoever. No—you are imagining things.

Your popularity had dwindled slightly when you refused to carry the other kids in your class around on your back during recess, but you didn’t care. You tried not to care, at least.

It was for the greater good, your little seven year old mind had repeated when you sat with a smaller group of friends at lunch than you had before.

You still cried about it in the security of your parents car when they picked you up.

After the robber incident and the other children at school becoming too much for you, your parents decided to homeschool you. You didn’t mind this change, and they always joked that it saved the planet from a little more car emission.

It was during one fall morning that everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong for you.

Mama was in the kitchen with you, cutting both your sandwiches into hearts while you peeled the oranges. You hummed a catchy tune you once heard on the antique radio your mother often uses, blissfully unaware of the havoc about to befall you.

Mama called out your name, “Why don’t you start molding the onigiri? Then papa can take them to work!” She cooed, the frills behind her ears shifting to a soft lavender as they gently trembled.

You looked up at her with an excited nod. "Kay!" you sang happily. Then you turned, hopped off your stool, and dragged it over to the sink to wash the orange peels from under your fingernails. Just like you were taught.

As you finished washing your hands, you noticed a strange tingling sensation in your fingers. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than the cold water's effect, but the feeling intensified. Suddenly, your vision blurred, and you felt a horrible itchy feeling starting to spread across your head in waves until it morphed into a constant pain. You cried out for your mother, tears gathering in your eyes as you kneeled to the ground in pain. The itching only intensified, and the world became a blur of color.

Faintly, like your mind had been ripped from your body and was only left with a dull sensation, you could feel your mother wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her lap.

You tried to tell her it hurt, but all that escaped your throat was a mangled sob as the pain increased tenfold. Stars exploded across your vision in a kaleidoscope of colors. Your tiny hands tugged at your head desperately, as if it would make the pain stop even for a moment. It did not. Something large and soft grabbed your hands in their own, guiding them to wrap around what you guessed were your mother’s shoulders. You held her as tightly as you could, tears streaming down your face and wailing until you lost your voice.

You both sat on the kitchen floor for what felt like ages, motionless until the pain subsided, leaving only a dull headache as a reminder. The food remained untouched, the onigiri unmolded.

Your mother brushed her hand through your hair, whispering a lullaby that lulled you into a drowsy state. As she traced her fingers along your scalp, her confusion grew. When you were hovering between sleep and wakefulness, she felt it again—her hand pausing at the sides of your head.

Small bumps had appeared on each side, barely covered by a layer of skin.

You had begun growing horns.

You were hospitalized when your tail began to grow, nearly a year after your horns started showing. The initial pain was excruciating—so severe that you were ready to knock yourself unconscious when the over-the-counter pain medication your mother had been giving you for your horn growth pains, which had started nearly a year earlier, proved ineffective.

Mama sat in the chair beside your bed, holding your small hand in hers as she waited for the doctor to return and Papa to arrive from work.

You shifted uncomfortably beneath the crisp white sheets. Just minutes ago, the kind doctors had guided you through an X-ray machine, showing you and Mama the images with reassuring smiles.

The results revealed a new bone near your lumbar vertebrae—your lower spine. A literal tail bone, they said. You were growing a tail, little by little.

Your feelings about this were mixed. On one hand—a tail! On the other, it was a tail. And it already hurt! Your horns had barely grown two inches from your head, and you'd felt like you were being split in half the day the bone broke through skin. How long would it take for your tail to grow? You were certain it would be far more painful than growing horns.

You shuddered at the thought, your hand instinctively reaching for your lower back where the new tail was said to be starting. The doctors had warned you, with words sugar-coated for a child of nine years, about the potential discomfort, but their clinical words couldn't fully capture the reality of what you were about to experience. As you lay there in the hospital bed, a mix of anticipation and dread settled in your stomach.

You gave your mother’s hand a gentle squeeze. She squeezed right back.

You would surely be able to figure something out. The doctors could help, right? Doctors saved people. So they were heroes.

Surely there was a way to save you from the pain?

Your mother comforted you through the painful process of growing horns and a tail, a process that took years of medication and hospital visits. She understood you better than anyone; her quirk allowed her to transform into dinosaurs. You'd only ever seen her shift into herbivores, and you both silently acknowledged the reason why. This unspoken understanding formed a deep bond between you—a connection that meant everything.

Your father did his best to understand. His quirk, centered around imagination rather than transformation, made it harder for him to relate. Nevertheless, he always tried to put himself in your and your mother's shoes. These attempts often resulted in comical disasters—misty, house-sized dinosaurs and dragons flying and scampering around the property like oversized mice. Despite the chaos, you could tell that he cared deeply. And that was usually enough.

By the age of thirteen, the horns had grown farther from your head and a full tail connected to your spine, reminding you of how your quirk made you different from others. You cried often as they grew, because growing bones and muscles was painful and you hated your quirk for it. You were sure you experienced pain far worse than any child your age should ever have to go through.

As you grew older, suppressing your primal instincts—the urge to hunt, play, eat, and sleep endlessly—also became easier. Your human mind developed and matured, while the beast within remained stagnant, neither growing nor learning. This internal divide between your evolving consciousness and the unchanging animal nature that was still you in a way became more pronounced with each passing year.

Now you were sixteen years old, attending one of the most prestigious hero schools in Japan : U.A.

Because maybe, just maybe, if you saved people even as a scaly or feathery beast with claws and teeth sharp enough to pierce and kill, they’d look at you and smile in awe and feel safe. A balance to those who saw how dangerous you are and feared you for it.

In the future, as you learned your friends aspirations, It seemed like a selfish reason to become a hero compared to Ochako’s or Izuku’s dreams—but it was your motivation and you couldn’t give it up easily. You wouldn’t, or more specifically, you didn’t know how.

Everything was progressing remarkably well, exceeding your expectations of your high school life. Your classmates' reactions to your quirk were nothing short of healing. As they cautiously ran their hands over your scales, each one as large as their heads, their faces lit up with genuine wonder and excitement. It was as if they were encountering a mythical creature brought to life, struggling to reconcile the reality of your transformed state with their own eyes.

Their expressions of amazement and fascination weren't just fleeting moments of curiosity; they seemed to radiate a deep, heartfelt appreciation for your unique ability. You could see it in their wide eyes, hear it in their excited whispers, and feel it in the gentle, reverent way they touched your scales. It was a validation you had long craved but never quite expected to receive so wholeheartedly.

The warmth of their acceptance enveloped you like a comforting blanket, wrapping around your very being and soothing anxieties you didn't even realize you harbored. In that moment, basking in their genuine smiles and unguarded enthusiasm, you felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly overwhelmed you. You knew, with unwavering certainty, that you would go to any lengths, face any challenge, to preserve those smiles and maintain that acceptance. The thought of anything encompassed a vast realm of possibilities, and you were prepared to explore every one of them if it meant keeping your classmates looking at you with that same wonder and joy.

All seemed well until you closed your eyes, nestled under the warm blanket. In that moment of vulnerability, you unwittingly lowered your guard—precisely when you needed it most.

That’s when it chose to strike.

[heartz4shauna]

I need a Tashi Duncan moodboard so baddd It's not funny anymore

i got two boyfriends

and they best friends.

i love it when they french kiss.

[buckleys-diaz]

Maddie, Chimney and Jee-Yun in S06E10: In A Flash

for @jee-yunbuckleyhan

[jcksonfields]

Who: @rafaelcb and JD

Where: Marina, Haunted Boat Ride

When: October 2024, Hallo-Week

"Ready some s ary stuff Rafael?" JD asked, turning to the other as they walked towards the line for the haunted boat ride down by the marina. "I promise not to grab into you man," he teased, elbowing Rafael gently with a laugh. In fact JD liked the scary and spooky stuff associated with Halloween. He enjoyed the movies, the haunted houses. All of it. "Though I would not have thought of you as a guy who liked all of this stuff to be honest."