#i am not ghosting you im just terrible

[gomzdrawfr]

Talofa! I don't know if your inbox are open. But I'm curious about your OC Raven and Jelly! (They are so CUTE by the way! LOVE THEM!) If you don't want to answer it then it's okay!

I know their relationships with their soulmates (Raven with Price and Jelly with Ghost) but I want to know of their relationships with the OTHER members.

Like their relationships with Laswell, Nikolai, Gaz, Soap, Rudy- EVERYONE!

And by the way, LOVE your art style! SO ADORABLE!

Greetings!! thank you for the ask :D I'll try my best to explain them because I...I have not considered most of the characters KAJSHDKAJ so I hope you don't mind some of the more meh ish responses, if I didn't list down the characters, that means they have not met them! (dividers by @/cafekitsune)

The characters are arranged in descending order of closeness :3

Let's start with Jelly

Fish [OC]

((this is still in progress and development but)) Fish is my medic OC. He's like a brother figure to Jelly, had babysat her during childhood until teenage years. Their bond deepened when they reunited at the base where Fish worked, often met up and hang out in his office yapping about her latest hyperfixations, ships and anime.

Simon Ghost Riley

Jelly first got to know Ghost by inspecting his weapons. She was impressed by how perfectly maintained they were so she didn't think too much of his reputations and rumours. But the moment she met him she thought he was here to take her out LOL xD she can’t believe they ended up together to this day.

Eira Raven Liu [OC]

Raven saved Jelly's life without Jelly's knowledge (for reasons yet to be discussed), pulled the right strings here and there, vouched for her skills and landed her a spot as a weapon specialist + tech unit for the team. Jelly sort of sees Raven like her senior (calling her "senpai") and elder sister kind of vibe.

Kate Laswell

is terrified but thankful for her because of the whole "don't fk with me" vibe Kate has, but eventually realized how supportive she could be and got along well. Kate’s even invited her over for dinner a few times with her wife, which still blows Jelly’s mind :3

John Price

Jelly admires Price for being, well—John motherflipping Price. But let’s be real what she really can’t get over is him and Raven as a couple LMAO she’s their #1 fangirl and is not subtle about it, wrote a few fanfictions inspired by their dynamic too HAHA

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Partner for field setups and troubleshooting, they're pretty chill cause of how Gaz is able to share jokes with her.

John Soap Mactavish

Wondered if Ghost and him are-was a thing, is not bothered by it if they were (it's not like she already have a few google doc opened writing about two characters inspired by Ghost and Soap-)

Soap calls her Jellybean sometimes, I think they're chill too.

Alejandro Vargas

Flustered around Alejandro because she thinks he's drop dead gorgeous, has a hard time forming complete sentences whenever he’s nearby (yes, Ghost is silently jealous about it)

Rodolfo Parra

Intimated by Rudy sometimes but likes his cooking, also fangirls over Alejandro and Rudy.

König

accidentally mistaken König for Ghost -> is embarrassed and mortified about it -> surprisingly bonded well over niche topics

and for Raven, she's knows almost all the COD characters given her background and access to information, though she chose not to meet some of them. Note, these aren't arrange based on closeness since it's hard to show it, just more like people she has been involved with some comments xD

John Price

I could go on and on and on about them but I'll keep it simple. Currently, Price is Raven's fiancé, they've build their relationship from shaky grounds with many many downs and mistakes, but she'll take a bullet for him anytime. They've reached a point of codependency at this point I guess.

Kate Laswell

As someone who has history with intelligence work, she's cautious with CIA agents. It rubbed her the wrong way when Kate managed to dig up fragments of Raven's past, things she'd rather buried it six feet underground. I guess she felt intrusive about it even though she expected something like to happen. Despite this though, Raven doesn't hate Kate, she respects her for what she does. She prefers to keep Kate at arm's length, their relationship is civil but Raven tends to keep it professional.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Gaz was the first to know about Raven from Price, and was there during her treatment of her back injury, so they're sort of solid buddies then.

Jelly [OC]

Raven has always struggled to express her affection for Jelly, not out of lack of feeling, but because she’s never been one to show her emotions easily. There’s something about Jelly that pulls at Raven in a way no one else ever has. Raven sees a reflection of herself in Jelly—someone who had the brains and abilities that would've surpasses her if it wasn't for the mission that severely wounded Jelly's nerves. It’s a side of herself Raven doesn’t often recognize in others. As such, she is extremely protective of Jelly. Let's just say the conversation with Ghost was uhhh....intense? xD (knives were involved and a clear message was sent)

Raven: really? him? Jelly- Jelly: He's uh....he's nice!!! Raven: *long sigh*

Simon Ghost Riley

Rocky af start, neither of them trust each other. Ghost didn't like the fact that Price is tying himself to someone with blacked-out background (as if he isn't "mysterious and dangerous" himself). Ngl, they kinda chill off with Price as the bridge between them. Surprise surprise, they would take the bullet for each other """""for the sake of Price"""""" (they’d never admit it out loud, and they certainly wouldn’t acknowledge that they actually care for one another)

Farah Karim and Hadir Karim

Raven’s time in Urzikstan with her PMC meant she was aware of Farah’s retaliation efforts, was there to witness the Captive mission whilst on watch duty for Lieutenant Price. Raven respects Farah’s resilience but doesn’t align with her ideologies—especially the decisions Farah makes regarding missiles in MW3. As for Hadir, Raven sees him as a wildcard, someone driven by emotion rather than strategy (in her eyes anyways), so she's kinda meh about the siblings.

Vladimir Makarov

Raven’s had dealings with Makarov in the past, thanks to Viktor (Raven's step-dad who owns the PMC Cobra) assigning her to handle transactions involving him. She's...well she was intrigued with Makarov’s unpredictable nature and considers him dangerous—not just to others, but to anyone who gets caught up in his plans. Though she doesn't agree whatever the hell he was doing afterwards.

John Soap Mactavish

Raven and Soap are…fine(?) There’s no bad blood between them, but there’s also no real bond. They’re more colleagues than friends. Raven respects Soap for being part of Price’s world, but their connection is more about Price than anything else (basically witnessed the real effect of Soap's supposedly death in MW3 on Price)

Nikolai

Raven knows Nikolai through Chimera. They’ve crossed paths during missions, though she doesn't know if he recognizes her. Their relationship is more functional than personal. Still, she recognizes him as someone who’s good to have on your side (has seen the uh...has seen Nikolai's "working" mode)

bonus: Raven from the Metropolitan Police Service (I think he's SAS too - ah you know the dude who told off Gaz??)

Gaz told Raven Liu about this Raven, laughed about it, dug up his history and went "you did not just compared me with this guy"

[pepprs]

my depression is getting really really bad. like it’s been bad before but this is like… consistently really bad. like a long unending stretch for several weeks (and tbh months) now. to the point where no inoculation actually sticks (and im isolating myself from most of my inoculations anyway and feel unable to stop doing it even though i know it’s self destructive). im either helplessly unbearably miserable or numbing out on video games. i just don’t feel like it’s going to get better for me and i KNOW that is factually untrue but the feeling is louder than the knowledge and it’s just utterly immobilizing. ive been sinking in quicksand for 2 years.

[your-dead-european-ancestor]

I do this thing where i get so busy w stuff that i cant message back or talk to people, and then i get overwhelmed by Everything and i spam reblog tumblr and watch yt vids and doc everything and anything to distract myself, and THEN i remember all the unread messages from people and theyre like. A week old, and then i panic and think theyre probably mad at me and get so caught up in panicking ab them being mad I Dont Message Them Back. And then its been a month and i havent talked to them at all and idk what to say to them.

Rinse and repeat cause this happens so fucking often and my excuse has always been 'sorry i got busy' but thats just. An asshole thing to say after ghosting someone for So Long and So Often. So now were here

[scivors]

Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

[sematarygirls]

Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

part one

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,

word count : 4.5k words !

a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.

However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."

Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.

"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.

"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."

Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.

Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"

Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.

He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.

He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long

At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.

He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.

The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.

Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.

That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.

Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.

As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.

You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.

You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.

You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.

He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.

After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.

He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.

The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.

His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.

The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.

He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.

He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.

Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.

But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.

It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.

He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.

The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.

He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.

He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.

"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.

"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.

"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.

"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."

"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.

"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.

You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.

He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.

In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.

When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.

"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.

"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"

"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.

His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.

The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.

"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.

"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.

"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.

"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.

Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.

"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.

He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.

The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.

He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.

"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.

"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.

your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.

"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.

He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.

His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.

"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."

He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.

"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."

Yeah, right he thought.

He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.

Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.

He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.

"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"

You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!

"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.

"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.

Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.

"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."

"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.

"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."

His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.

"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."

"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.

"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."

He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.

"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."

He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.

"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.

He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.

"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."

tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,

[juliasturnz]

“4 fucking days”

CHRIS STURNIOLO X Y/N

Hi guyss.. this is my first ever fanfic, I’m pretty insecure about it bc my first language isn’t English🙁. I really hope you will still enjoy this, have fun reading🩷🩷

A little bit inspired by the song wildflower where I’ve been obsessed with lately hihi🤭

warnings!

Mention of depression, cussing, self hating, kissing, pet names (baby, my love, sweetheart and more)

summary:

you haven’t texted your boyfriend in almost 4 days you feel horrible but you just can’t seem to call him until he comes over by himself

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you’ve been feeling alot lately but it’s everything but nice and happy feelings, Chris is fully aware that you have your bad days… But you haven’t texted him in almost 4 days which is definitely a couple days longer then normally.

your phone is next to you on your fully covered disgusting tissue’s, plate’s, and atleast more then 5 cups of drinks you didn’t even finish, but your phone keeps buzzing over and over. You are getting annoyed so you pick it up to see it’s Chris. You answer the phone quickly and are a little scared even though you know Chris would treat you like a princess.

“y/n you okay baby?” His voice sounds kinda high pitched, and really worried. You hear his voice and it makes you stomach turn upside down, you realized you haven’t heard this voice in 4 fucking days.

“Hey chris.. can you come over please.” it almost sounds like you are begging him to come. “I am already on my way, I know you are going through a lot rn and I was about to visit you.” You can tell he’s worried.

it’s for a few seconds a little quiet, suddenly you start apologizing and trying to tell him what is happening “im so sorry baby I haven’t been texting or even calling you i’m so fucking stupid, i am such a dumbass I could’ve atleast done something I’m so terribly sorry.. I- I don’t know what to do.” chris is already comforting you and telling you it’s okay “y/n baby it’s okay, it really is. I’ll be here in 5 minutes that’s gonna be real soon baby, I’ll be here for you and you can cuddle with me as long as you want.” “Okay see you soon, I love you” “I love you too baby.”

You hang up and realize what a mess your room is and most of all what kind of a mess you look like, you quickly get out of bed *I need to atleast freshen up I look fucking disgusting* the second you set a foot on the ground you feel dizzy *what the fuck?* you sit down as fast as possible, ‘dang what is happening to me’ you say out loud

almost tripping over every single piece of clothing that is spread all over the floor when you finally reach the bathroom, you take a look in the mirror and let out a big sigh, I look disgusting, literally dirty. I really do need to freshen up.. you wash your face but after you do you randomly burst out into tears, I look so fucking disgusting *how does Chris even like me?* You question yourself. Not even a few seconds later you are already sitting down on the bathroom floor drowning in your thoughts, you have so many questions you can’t answer and no one else can.

you get up after drowning in your thoughts again, you look at the time. ‘FUUUCK’ you say pretty loud, ‘how is that even possible’ you realize you’ve been just zoning out for about 5 minutes.. *wait didn’t Chris say he was in 5 minutes here?*

* the bell rings *

‘ON MY WAY’ you yell from the other side of the house, you quickly run down the stairs and almost trip, *my clumsy ass can’t ever go somewhere without tripping* that thought makes you giggle a bit. You make the front door open as fast as you can, ‘hi baby,’ you say really dry reminding yourself what you look like rn. Chris hugs you as tight as possible, and gives you a soft kiss on your head. ‘Hi my love’ he looks down at you with a concerned look ‘how are you doing?’ ‘Meh’ you say dry, you don’t know what to say, you fully ghosted your boyfriend for 4 fucking days + you probably smell like shit. ‘Should we relax baby?, I’ll run you a bath for you, so you can really relax okay?’ ‘That’s okay’ You say quietly, you are so embarrassed for how you look like, and probably smell like shit.

Chris is already walking to the bathroom and looking back at you with a warm smile you missed so much, you give him the smallest smile back what you already kinda feel bad about, he sees that you feel uncomfortable and little bit embarrassed. He fully turns around and walks back to you and gives you another hug and a passionate kiss on your lips. He lifts your chin up and looks into your eyes and says ‘I don’t care how you think you look like okay? you will always be beautiful in my eyes’ he gives you another kiss on your head and grabs your arm and takes you to the bathroom.

He turns on the hot water and lets the bathtub run with a nice temperature, you sit on the toilet waiting while Chris is really busy trying to take care of everything. You can’t help but just stare at the boyfriend you’ve been looking for you intire life. He was almost done and looked to the side with the sight of you already looking at him, the noise of running bath water comforts the silence in some kind of way. ‘What are you looking at’ he giggles, ‘I just can’t believe I have you right in front of me.’ It stays quiet for about a minute with you two just staring at each other, he comes up to you and gives you that comforting kiss on your head again. When the silence finally stops he looks at you and at the bath, ‘oh fuck’ the water in the bathtub is almost overflowing. You suddenly start laughing at the sight of your boyfriend trying to fix the almost overflowing bath, you start giggling.

After a few minutes he has everything set up, the only thing you needed was your clothes. You get insecure just by the thought of him seeing your room, you get up really quick. Chris catches your stressed look, ‘y/n you okay?’ You start violently sobbing out of no where. Chris comes up to you and hugs you and shushes you ‘shh it’s okay baby’ he looks down at you, ‘do you wanna tell me what’s wrong or has being going on?’ ‘Chris i-im sorry I have no idea what’s going on, I’m g-genuinely fucked up. Everything is a mess, I’m a-a mess I look like shit my room looks like shit’ you are almost choking from sobbing and from trying to explain the horrible thoughts ‘and you are so sweet for me and I feel like I don’t deserve this and’- he interrupts you, ‘you are okay, you are loved and I’m here I don’t give shit about what your room looks like or anything in that kind of situation. All I care about is that your doing well.’ He’s looking down at you with his hands on your waist trying to tell you this while you are still violently sobbing. ‘Please just go relax in your beautiful bath I made and I’ll take care of it okay I’ll bring you clothes afterwards, I love you so much y/n.’ Chris has left the bathroom while you finally undress and go into your beautiful made bath.

About 30 minutes Chris comes into the bathroom with a clean hoodie, pyjama pants, bra and some panties, he grabs a big towel and lays it down on the toilet. He looks at you and asks you once again how your doing, while he’s asking this he comes closer and gives you another but yet comforting kiss on your cheek. You smile wide, ‘I’m doing so much better, I’m so glad you came Chris, I love you’ you say once again.

He hasn’t been yapping at all what is surprising you, with that thought slipping into your head you ask him right away. ‘Since when aren’t you yapping?’ You ask him with a little smile on your face, he looks up from his phone with a sarcastic offended look. ‘Since when are you talking during your favorite series?’ He says with a even bigger smile on his face. You are both laughing. About 5 minutes later dying laughing about other things, he started yapping right away about everything that had happened in the last 4 days. God you missed this

Another half hour passes by and you tell Chris you wanted to get out of the bath, he looks up at you with a wide smile, you lift your body up and Chris’ eyes lock right away on your body. You start giggling, he quickly looks up. ‘I-I am sorry you look good’ he says nervously ‘do I make you nervous or something?’ ‘no no I-I just’- you interrupt him with your giggles and asking for the big towel he placed on the toilet a while ago. He gets the towel and helps you dry of and tries to help you get dressed. ‘Chris babe you don’t need to help me get dressed I still have arms and hands you know.’ ‘Oh yeah.. oh wait I need to do something take your time okay?, do your makeup, skincare whatever yeah?’ while he says this he has a suspicious smile on his face, he still knows how to make me really curious.

About a hour passes and in this hour I’ve been hearing things moving, him moving around and popcorn pop.. ‘wait popcorn?’ You run down the stairs and you find him taking the popcorn out of the microwave. He turns around and is in shock when he sees you, ‘y/n oh my god. You look absolutely gorgeous.’ Your cheeks are turning insanely red, he quickly puts the popcorn down on the countertop and almost runs at you giving you kisses all over your body. When he stops he looks at you and gives you one last kiss on your lips. For a while he just keeps looking at you, you flip his hair and look curious behind him. ‘So what are you doinggg..’ he looks behind him also kinda curious completely forgetting what he was doing. ‘Oh yeah yeah wait go back to the bathroom for about 5 minutes I have something for you.’ You loved surprises so you ran to the bathroom again right away.

Five minutes has passed and Chris comes into the bathroom with a blindfold in his hand, you look at the blindfold in his hand. ‘Chris do you seriously have a blindfold?’ You say giggling ‘well yes it’s still a surprise isn’t it?’ he says shrugging his shoulders. Chris finally ties your blindfold on the back of your head, he gives you a little kiss on your lips and grabs your hand and runs out of the bedroom making you almost trip. ‘Chris!!!’ You say giggling, ‘omg I’m so sorry’ he says laughing.

when you two finally make it upstairs with a lot of tripping and falling, Chris stands proudly in front of the door of your room. ‘Take of that stupid blindfold and go look baby!’ You take your blindfold of and you look really confused at Chris’ proud face, he opens the door and your mouth falls open. ‘YOU CLEANED MY WHOLE ROOM WHAT!!’ ‘SURPRISE!!’ He says but he also did something else, you walk further to your clean room and see your whole bed filled with snacks and soda’s. ‘CHRIS WHAT THE FUUUCK!’ He looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him with, ‘so should we watch movies then?’ He wants to look over to you but you are already on the bed trying new and eating old favorites. You spend the whole night watching your favorite and his favorite movies until you two fall asleep with your head on his chest.

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dang this took a pretty long fucking time, I really hope you enjoyed this, I will probably make more fanfics in the future lmk what you think about it 🩷

tags:

@042502 @sturnioz @sturnslcver @sturniluvr @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolo @sturniololoverr @sturnioloshacker @sturniolowhore @sturniolos-blog @chris-slut @chrissv4mp @chrissfawn @mattsfavbitchhh @mattspolitank @mattsgf @matts-k1tten @mattitvdes

[bonchobrick]

Duke and Danny bestie fic im co-authoring with some cool people for Patrol Partners! :D

A fic where Duke knows a lot about Gotham’s new problem, ghosts. The Waynes think the worst and assume he’s had some terrible experience with ghosts in the past (in reality is just very happy to talk about his best friends culture and doesnt realize how odd it is that he knows all this stuff)

Or

Duke is pretty much just vibing, the bats are having a meltdown, and Danny is having a blast!

—-

Then Duke pops the question

“So, what are you guys researching?” He asks raising a brow to the papers littered all over the room

Collectively the entire room groans as Duke absentmindedly picks up a paper on the table with the failed, static over-run image.

“We don't know!” Steph bemoans frustrated

Tim starts, “There are new entities–”

“Creatures.” Bruce corrects

Tim casts a piercing glance at his father, “I am pretty sure those are entities. Eye witness reports state that they look fairly human-like–”

Bruce challenges him right back, “Eye witness reports were also very likely to be unfactual, they seemed partially intoxicated. It’s more likely they are some kind of mutated animal.”

His son’s teeth grit, “Even so we still can’t rule out–”

“Oh right, the ghosts are back in town,” Duke's comments, gaze absorbed in the static image

Silence drowns the room as their weary eyes blink at Duke, processing what he had just said.

Then it clicks

“R-repeat that?” Tim stares intensely at Duke

“Um, the ghosts are back? That's what these are.” Duke nervously replies confused, “It’s been a bit since they visited Gotham

Tim opens and closes his mouth, immensely struggling to find any words to say. It seems like the rest of his family is fairing no better, some of them letting out noises of surprise and shock with others trying to hear if they heard that sentence right.

“There used to be ghosts in Gotham?” Bruce says incredulously

“Yeah?” Duke tilts his head, “I mean they don’t like living here with the corrupt ectoplasm but I’m friends with a few ghosts?”

Jason springs on him with wide eyes, “What are ghosts like, personality-wise?”

Duke thinks and responds with the first thought that comes to mind, “Fickle, they can be super friendly or super destructive. They do whatever they’re in the mood to.”

“Are they aggressive?”

“Sure? Sometimes?” Duke blinks at them bewildered before a petty smile crosses his lips, “They can be, hmm, commanding.”

Dicks eyes turn cold and protective, “What–”

“Listen guys,” Duke backs away from the discussion going with his internal task list in mind, “I gotta go wrap up putting together all my documents for my topic on my science fair project so uh, see-ya!”

The second youngest bounces out of the cave and the rest of the family stare dumbstruck at him.

New entities (ghosts?) pop up in Gotham + Duke describes them as fickle and commanding =

Duke is being made to do things for Ghosts who can be kind and cruel which =

= Duke is being bullied by Ghosts?!

Not on their Bat-watch!

Damian is already sharpening his ‘not murder tools’, Tim has sprung into research on the bat computer and the rest of the family have already dipped into Gotham ready to search for these perps!

Paranoid Family #1 will help Duke’s ghost problem starting now!

( pssst heres the fic :)

[justanotherhh]

some trailer things:

big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?

obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:

john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)

also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?

more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended

also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)

and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)

the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother

generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for

also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking

blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital

who's this?

another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?

blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)

this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!

also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious

is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)

MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.

this blitz + fizz moment

it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time

(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)

fascinated by this:

is that millie?

things we didn't see:

no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)

and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited

[magicicephoenix]

DOCTOR WHO AU???

IM LISTENING

PLEASE

HERE YOU GO. i am just rambling

it ended up being super long, so. under the cut :)

okay so i'm still not sure if it'd be better for y/n to be the doctor or the dca. because on the one hand y/n being the doctor makes them a very very lonely last time lord who outlives all the companions they've tried to keep over the years, who saw two robots (bc i think it'd be better if they were separate in this instance) and went "oh my god. companions who will never die.", thus getting immediately attached. and sun and moon are fascinated by this otherworldly being who looks completely human to every single one of their sensors EXCEPT the fact that they have two hearts. one for each of them WHO SAID THAT anyway since obviously the doctor needs an accompanying master if y/n is the doctor i think maybe vanessa as the master would work. something something vanessa was an old friend who turned to the dark side (afton, somehow??? maybe afton WIAIT MAYBE AFTON WAS THat one super important time lord in the time lord council or whatever they're called from the end of season four and he's DETERMINED to have the time lords come back and that's why vanessa does all that oh my god it all makes sense). and y/n is always hoping she'll leave old ghosts behind but she can't and it's devastating every time aughh... and meanwhile y'know the dca are childcare animatronics but they know and can see troubles in any age and they're seeing a worrying amount of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this mysterious "doctor," so much so that they wonder if this doctor needs a doctor of their own. because even if the doctor is a different species they still need all the basic necessities of life that a human does and the dca are very specifically programmed to help humans. so they're just about perfect to help y/n!!!! and umm i think being able to see the universe is a super big deal to a couple of animatronics who were confined to a daycare their whole lives. maybe the inciting incident to their initial meeting had something to do with aliens trying to take down the human race through the children. and the dca notice the children acting strange and start going for help but no one's listening to them because they're "just robots" and it's frustrating and awful and they keep trying until by some coincidence they manage to inform y/n about it and y/n LISTENS to them doesn't ignore them and that's literally the ONLY THING they were asking for and y/n is the only one to give it to them. and then they work together (and isn't that wild for the dca, working with a perceived human instead of working under them, being able to make suggestions and offer ideas and not being brushed off!!!) and solve the mystery and defeat the terrible aliens who were using children for their master plan but due to all of it the dca's daycare is destroyed. and the dca has nowhere to go but stupid fazbear entertainment. and they've almost resigned themselves to returning to the hell of being nothing but an object for a giant corporation... until y/n says "come with me." and the dca say "yes."

ah right um on the other hand. time lord dca. two ideas i had: one, the master could be eclipse. then there'd be secondary idea one-A where the dca are in one body and one-B where they're separate. dunno about that one because a big thing with the doctor is that they're the SINGLE last time lord other than the master and they're desperate for companionship because of that. idea two: one half of the dca is the doctor and the other half is the master. prolly sun being doctor and moon being master but i could absolute see the other way around as well! then it hurts even more because they're two halves of the same whole, literally The Sun and The Moon as maybe they've chosen as titles instead of doctor and master actually. but the thing about the sun is that everything else orbits around it while the moon only revolves about the earth. wait oh my god that's fantastic actually. Sun taking the Master role because everything must be circling him, he must be at the center of everything, without him everything would flicker out and die, HE'S the most important thing and he needs EVERYONE to KNOW. and the most frustrating thing is that the moon is so so so enamored by the stupid earth and its stupid humans to pay enough attention to him. only one half of that moon is ever facing him but he needs all of its attention, he needs to see it all, and if he needs to rip the moon out of its orbit to do that then he WILL. meanwhile Moon is the little saving grace of the earth, so far away and unnoticeable that the humans don't notice his aid (like how the moon causes the tides). if the earth stopped spinning he'd be there to start them it again (anyone seen that one comic from the "what if?" book? yeah). no matter what he is there to keep earth and the humans safe, even if it's from the bright burning star that they rely on for life. and he's so so lonely, doing his best in the shadows, alone without his counterpart that has long been lost to time (or so he thinks) until he stumbles upon y/n and can't bear to let go. so when Sun returns, hoping his grand motions will capture Moon's heart, he is devastated to see Moon instead clinging tight to this small, insignificant life form. what about him? what about all the time they'd spent together? what happened to the sun and the moon? why is he not enough? and from devastation comes rage. from rage turns destruction. and, unfortunately for Sun, Moon despises destruction.

...or something like that.

[mejaemin]

unhappy ending - 7dream

wc: 2.2k

summary: 7dream as angst tropes/plotlines (a.k.a. the dreamies as things that make me sad)

warnings: not proofread, extreme angst, hurt/no comfort (mark: cheating, manipulation, toxicity) (renjun: hospitals, depictions of illness and having an unwell appearance) (jeno: depression, depression related habits) (donghyuck: enlistment, death, murder?) (jaemin: this one kinda has comfort? dystopia, implied death, suggestive/after sex) (chenle: a lot of toxicity, being used) (jisung: getting played, heartbreak, ghosting)

an: who let me do this. i am hurting so bad and im the one that wrote it ?!?! this is why i hate angst guys im never doing this again. gonna write the fluffiest of fluff now

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cheating!mark texts you every morning and night, sending sweet messages with the occasional song lyric or spider man quote, be it motivational or romantic. it’s arguably your favorite part of the day, looking forward to the message of the day and the next. it’s quite confusing however, when he texts you one day saying “goodnight angel, sleep well! gonna be in the studio tomorrow, i’ll pick u up on the way <3 love you gorgeous, see you tomorrow minjeong”… when you ask him about it, questioning who this minjeong is, he immediately shuts down any idea of cheating immediately. when you sit in the studio with him the following day, he’s in the booth recording some chords on his guitar when you look at his phone. unsurprisingly, there’s messages from a “minjeong <3”. upon opening them, you see texts and texts that go on for months. of course, you immediately start screaming at mark, sobbing and punching him with frustration at his unfaithfulness. with a big pout and gifts ready, he kisses your tears away, rocking you back and forth in his arms so sweetly, cooing as he convinces you it’s no one, bringing you to stay with him and ignore the many “i knew it” texts from your friends.

memory loss!renjun sits in the hospital bed, skin pale and sickly as he draws in a sketchbook with shaky hands. there’s countless cords and tubes attached to his body, the abundance of technology being the only thing keeping him alive. the nurse standing next to you places a hand on your shoulder, startling you and forcing you to turn away from the hospital door’s window.

“if you’d like, you can try again today. he’s been pretty stable recently.” her smile doesn’t even attempt to reach her eyes, and you know she’s only doing it to try (terribly) to comfort you.

you nod gently, reaching for the door handle. “mm. thank you, i’ll do that.”

when you open the door, he looks up, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you. “who are you? what are you doing here?”

you sit next to him, reaching for his hand, but he flinches and pulls it to his chest. “renjun… i- i’m sorry. i should have asked. i’m your girlfriend, we’ve been dating for three years, can you remember?”

he looks you up and down judgmentally, though it isn’t too intimidating when he’s as skinny as a twig. “no, i’m sorry, you must be mistaken. i’m very much single.”

just like that, your skin heats up with frustration and you have to fight back tears. turning on your phone, you turn it to him, showing your lock screen of the two of you. he only looks more confused, so you unlock it and begin scrolling through your gallery, swiping through photos upon photos of the memories between you two.

“do you really not remember any of this..? we’ve been dating for the past three years, we met in high school, donghyuck introduced us.. please tell me you remember, any of it.” your voice quivers, the tears falling freely now.

he shakes his head, albeit weakly. “no, i’m sorry i don’t remember any of this. are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

from your bag, you pull out a small framed piece of canvas paper. on it is a bouquet of your favorite flowers, renjun’s signature in the bottom corner. “junnie, do you remember painting this?” he nods gently. “you made this for me. it’s my favorite flowers, and you gave it to me on my birthday.”

“that.. doesn’t sound right. i create art for myself, not to gift to other people. i wouldn’t do that. how did you get that.”

you can’t even see what’s in front of you, heaps and heaps of tears falling from your eyes. this is the third week in a row, trying to help renjun regain his memories, and the third week it failed. no matter what you say, what you show him, it’s like you never existed. the nurse opens the door, suggesting you leave, and as she helps you out you leave the painting with him, hoping and praying he’ll be able to remember you and all the love you had for each other.

overwhelmed!jeno was the sweetest to you, always being there for you when you needed it. no matter what he was always a call away, if you needed him he was there. he paid attention to your every need, and kept tabs on just about everything relating to you. favorite color, movie, flower, clothing style, everything. he was genuinely the best boyfriend you think you’d ever encounter. he treated you so, so good, rubbing your feet when you were tired, taking care of you when sick, and buying you the cutest of gifts ‘just because’. you were the same way with him too, y’know. whenever he felt overwhelmed, whether it be from the attention of his peers or even his own thoughts, you always knew how to calm him down. he found a home in your arms, as did you with him. everyone around you could see how perfect you two were, saying that love was real because of you. it was like everything was perfect as long as jeno was by your side. however, every couple has a rocky patch, and it just seems that you guys couldn’t make it through. sometimes, jeno got too burnt out taking care of you, despite it being something he enjoyed, and fell into habits of not taking care of himself. he grew eye bags, sleeping all day and didn’t look or act anything like himself. the outside world along with all his responsibilities at home, and his own, nagging, overwhelming, intrusive thoughts became too much, and he found it a struggle to love himself, let alone another person. with all the love in your heart, you had no choice but to part ways with him in hopes of him getting better and finding himself again. you hoped that his future had you in it, but you doubt you can be in the picture when he enters the right state of mind.

bf!donghyuck who spent the past year living his best life with you, taking you out on extravagant dates and vacations to make as many memories as possible before his enlistment. he bought so many gifts, took so many photos, and left so many marks in your shared home to make sure you’d never miss him. despite joking about it all the time, he was scared and upset about it as well. whole writing a letter for every month he was gone, more than half ended up having tear stains on them. tucking the final one into the box and leaving it somewhere for you to find, he grabbed his bags and ran to the car, sitting in the passenger seat while you drove him to the site. the whole ride was filled with tears and pointless arguments, the dread consuming you both. a whole year and a half without your soulmate, the love of your life was something you truly couldn’t bare. once you arrived, you helped him grab his stuff and make his way to the place where you would depart. right before he made his way to the hundreds of other men he would be going with, he dropped his stuff and held you tightly in his arms, kissing all your tears away and blending them with his own, promising that it would go by quickly, like he was never gone. for the first couple months you believed it, uncovering pranks and hidden gifts from him throughout the time he was gone. however, the third month came, and his gift this time wasn’t funny, or cute at all. when you opened your tv that morning, the news channel popped up, the reporter giving a solemn expression as he relayed the news that your lover’s base, the place donghyuck was stationed at, had been attacked, majority of the soldiers there being killed. a list of names was revealed, and with your heart beating out of your chest and nausea waving through you, your eyes trailed down the list until it stopped. lee donghyuck, age 24, was in the list of soldiers who had died. your entire lifeline, the one who owned your entire heart, the man who reminded you of the warm sun, had lied to you. he was gone, and wasn’t coming back.

dystopian bf!jaemin is someone who you admittedly don’t know too well. the world is overheating, on the verge of ending, and the sky is bright orange, air smoky in the mid-day when you meet him. with 30 minutes left on earth, the announcement ringing through all devices and televisions in the world. laying on the hood of his car, watching smoke billow through the sky in the distance, he turns to you with a smile.

“y’know, i’m really happy i met you, girlfriend.” his skin is bare, a dirty blanket covering both of your exposed bodies. at this point, you couldn’t care less about your skin being dirty.. there’s thirty minutes until you die, and with your boyfriend of about five hours, the only thing you’re concerned about is getting all your firsts checked off before everything ends.

you smile back, resting your head on your arm. “me too, boyfriend. this couldn’t have gone any better.” he pulls you in ever so gently, kissing you once again. it’s quite embarrassing, being in your twenties and having never experienced anything romantic, but you and jaemin are in the same boat and you both can agree that it’s really nice.

“touché. say, why don’t we get to know each other with what time we have left, hm?” his hand caresses your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. you can feel his hands shaking against your skin, and you try not to let it but it makes you all the more nervous about what’s to come.

“of course, shoot.” pulling your shirt on, you sit up and he follows suit.

with your last thirty minutes on earth, you share the stories of your parents who succumbed to the wrath of the decaying planet and all the other funny stories of your lives. the end felt so lonely this past month, and as your phone alerts you of there being a minute left, you feel whole again despite your sadness and fear. finding someone so similar to you, relating to him and connecting with him in such terrifying moments makes you feel a lot less empty. as you count down, saying goodbye to your short life, you watch the world around you, including yourself, burn while in the arms of someone you never thought you’d have.

toxic!chenle who always kept you on his arm, yet that’s all he ever did for you. he never addressed you or looked your way, but he never let you create any distance between you and him. if anyone asked, you were “his lovely, beautiful girlfriend”, but as soon as heads turned you were nothing but an annoying pest who kept clinging to him. you asked to be loved, to feel appreciated, and he’d look at you, an unconvincing pout on his face as he held yours lovingly and convinced you he’d change and give you the love you deserve. he’d take you out on a date, spoiling you with every penny just to make a post about it and then kick you to the curb. he didn’t love you, you knew that, but his attention was everything to you. he treated you so well when eyes were on you two that it was all you needed to stick around, giving him all your love when to him you were nothing but a shiny new toy to parade around to his friends.

heartbreaker!jisung who reached out to you one day, saying he was a friend of a friend who wanted to get to know you. you’ve never had that happen to you before, being wanted, so you began talking to him. he was so sweet, a cute, shy boy who’s fails at flirting and romantic gestures were extremely charming. he swept you off your feet quickly, taking you on many dates and buying many gifts for you. this dragged on for a long time, and you were so happy to have someone by your side that you didn’t even think of the fact that he never asked to make it official until your friend brought it up. thinking things were going well, you called him and suggested giving your relationship a title. immediately his line went silent, giving you no response, only being able to hear his hyperventilating, before he hung up. you texted him and called many times, begging him to tell you what was up, but it all fell on deaf ears as he eventually blocked you on everything. you were left heartbroken without closure, only hearing what happened when a friend of his reached out, apologizing on his behalf. allegedly, he said he was too scared to have a real relationship and couldn’t be a boyfriend to you. you couldn’t believe your ears, or, eyes. he made you feel so loved, so seen, all for him to back out because he was too scared to love, too unready.

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perm taglist: @chenlezip

[megumismyhusband]

haii, can i request oliver aiku angst/comfort fic? i need this man😖

i hate aiku with my entire life so im not the best at writing him but here u go! ive also never written angst before sooo...i hope its not terrible

It started small, like most arguments do.

“I don’t understand why you can’t even text back,” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of Oliver’s apartment. “It’s not like I’m asking for hours of your time—just a text. Something.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes telling the story of too many late nights and early mornings. “I told you, I’ve been busy,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“Busy?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly. “You always say that, Oliver. But I’m starting to wonder if you’re too busy for this—for us.”

At that, his jaw tightened, and he finally looked at you. His dark eyes, usually so warm, were hard, unreadable. “Maybe I am.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?”

He exhaled sharply, his hands falling to his sides. “I don’t have the time, alright? Between practice, games, traveling, interviews… I barely have time to sleep, let alone keep up with everything you expect from me.”

You took a step back, his words cutting deeper than you’d anticipated. “Everything I expect from you? All I’ve ever wanted is for you to show me that I matter. That we matter.”

“I’m trying!” he snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “But it’s not enough, is it? Nothing I do is ever enough for you!”

You flinched, his anger leaving you momentarily speechless.

He ran a hand over his face, frustration etched into every line. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less sharp. “And maybe… maybe this isn’t working. Maybe we aren’t working.”

Your heart dropped. “You’re seriously saying that right now?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t keep pretending I can balance everything when I can’t. I don’t have the time, and it’s not fair to you.”

“Not fair to me?” you echoed, your voice trembling. “So, what? Your solution is to just… give up?”

His silence was answer enough.

You stared at him, waiting—hoping—for him to take it back, to say something that would make this all make sense. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his arms limp at his sides, his face an unreadable mask.

“Fine,” you said, your voice cracking. “If that’s how you feel, then I won’t waste any more of your precious time.”

You grabbed your bag and walked out before he could see the tears spilling down your cheeks.

Weeks passed, each one heavier than the last. You told yourself you were moving on, but the ghost of Oliver lingered in everything you did. The empty side of the bed, the late-night silence that replaced his voice, the way your heart ached whenever you heard his name.

But what you didn’t know was that Oliver was struggling too.

At first, he thought he’d made the right decision. Breaking things off would give him the space to focus on his career, to get his life in order. But the silence of his apartment quickly became unbearable. The things he once found comfort in—soccer, his teammates, the rush of a goal—felt hollow without you to share them with.

He missed the way you smiled when he walked through the door, the way you teased him after a game, the way you made his chaotic life feel just a little more grounded.

One night, he sat alone on the couch, staring at the empty spot where you used to curl up beside him. The realization hit him like a freight train: he’d pushed away the best thing in his life because he was scared of failing you.

And now, he was failing himself.

The next day, he showed up at your door.

You opened it hesitantly, your heart pounding at the sight of him. He looked different—his hair disheveled, his usual confidence replaced by something raw, almost vulnerable.

“Oliver?” you said, your voice cautious.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His dark eyes searched yours, and for a moment, he just stood there, as if he didn’t know where to start. “I… I messed up.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms defensively. “Yeah, I think we established that.”

He winced but nodded. “I know. And I’ve been thinking about it every day since you walked out that door.” He hesitated, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I was wrong, alright? About everything. I thought letting you go would make things easier, but it didn’t. It just made me realize how much I need you.”

“Oliver…”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry for what I said, for how I made you feel. You deserve better than that. And I don’t care how busy I am—I’ll make time for you. For us. Just… please, give me another chance.”

You stared at him, your heart warring with your head. Part of you wanted to slam the door, to make him feel the same hurt you’d felt. But the other part—the part that still loved him—could see the sincerity in his eyes.

“You really hurt me, Oliver,” you said quietly, your voice cracking.

“I know,” he whispered. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, you sighed, your shoulders sagging. “You can come in. We can talk.”

Relief washed over his face, and for the first time in weeks, you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with.

[blingblong55]

The art of flexibility- 141

Based on a request:

hii!! here to make a request if this makes u uncomfortable or ur just not in the mood, feel free to ignore !! 141 x flexible! reader and im talking really flexible. and 141 walks in on reader doing one of these poses just a fun idea i thought of!!

GN!Reader, flexible!reader

A/N: The picture for the poses will be at the end :)

It was a usual day at the base. Breakfast, meeting, training, another meeting, lunch and then working out. But as their day finally was coming to an end, Gaz and Soap wanted to try some new moves out. Ghost said he was willing to watch and Price too, mainly because he was bored. Who would be the subject of the newly discovered moves? You. The only one who fell into the trap of volunteering.

"Alright mate, just stretch a little and then we start to see if what we learned can be used in the field," Gaz spoke as he and Soap smiled at each other. In their minds, you wouldn't be able to fight them off.

You slowly started to stretch your arms and legs, it wasn't anything too advanced, yet. Ghost and Price made small talk as they waited for what the sergeants wanted to show them. Once Gaz and Soap were done doing some basic warmup, they turned to you who by now was raising your leg higher than any of them thought possible.

Price panicked a little, Ghost was more amused but he would not let himself feed your ego.

"Mate, this is literally unfair," Gaz complained as he knew the first move he wanted to try would not work on you. Soap was almost like a child, crossing his arms and pouting just a little. "Fuckin' well, first last week with ya speakin' Hindi and now this? Try 'ard." It was not your intention to show off such skill but you know that you had to warm up and stretch enough for whatever those two had in mind.

Then you arch your back and touch your ankle while doing so. The poor men didn't know a human could even do that. "Alright, Grim, you'll fucking break yourself, stop that." What a concerned father was Price in this instant. Ghost and Gaz moved their head as they watched you arch your back, curious little things they were.

"Price, tell 'em to stop, they are ruining Gaz's and mine moment."

"Quit crying ya baby." Ghost says, never taking his eyes off the weird position you were in.

Price walks to you and then physically stops you, makes you stand up normally and sighs in relief. You look at the men, three of them surprised, confused and amused, the other mad like a child.

A/N: I literally am terrible at describing this.

Tags: @josieguts

[bonefall]

i’m hoping moonpaws “sinister” voice is some kind of misdirect. Like if the voice is moonpaws absorbed sibling then maybe it growing crueller in tone is a result of frustration with moonpaw or being stuck without control, a legitimate reason that will get resolved as opposed to just being Evil Voice In Her Head. Not to say this alternative would be perfect, it would still definitely tap into that stereotype, but at least it would be more well intended i think?? I don’t know. Maybe if they’re lucky the erins will even stumble into accidentally representing real struggles that people in systems have with their headmates

They have a slim chance to make this work, especially since they've probably maybe plotted out their story by now (who am i kidding. its the erins lol change on the fly bozos), but I think they could clutch this with a simple trick;

Treat The Twin like a person. That's all. Just. Allow it the courtesy of being a fully fleshed out character with actual feelings and motivations, not just spite at "having not lived", and absolutely not "we're a genetic anomaly and I'm EVIL because of it, so im haunting your bones for funsies"

Mind you, they're not great at writing nuanced antagonists... so I doubt the idea that they would even think to pull a misdirect with the "sinister" description. And it's still not great that they seem to be going in the direction of an "absorbed twin" and unironically doing Moonpaw And The Fetus Ghost...

BUT.

It is only a preview. They've changed lanes based on feedback before, with serious story overhauls, even (we die like warriors, Night/Sun Divorce Lovers). So... maybe they will end up doing something more subversive, treating both Moonpaw and her headmate with sympathy.

At the very least, we'll have fun rewriting the Terrible Cat Books together. We'll make something of it.

[darby-rowe-archive]

first off...ur so genuinely underrated

second off... can I get a academically-exhausted!coryo x you-need-a-break! reader...

she distracts him from studying or smt

tysm anon!! i've been having so much fun writing again :)!! but i will admit that im very out of practice so this has been quite the adjustment period.

i luv this prompt! i hope u dont mind that i wrote sfw & nsfw versions just in case u were looking for one or the other. nevertheless i hope u like them!!

sfw young!coriolanus snow x gn!reader word count 401

“My love…” you softly cooed as you noticed the frustration on Coriolanus’s brow, your eyes scanning over the chicken-scratch of notes within his notebook. Formulas and equations that even your academically talented mind couldn’t wrap around. You placed one hand on the edge of his desk and one hand on the back of his chair, leaning down so your face was level with his. “I think it’s time for you to take a break,”

Coriolanus’s eyes didn’t meet yours as they went back and forth from his textbook to his notebook. “I just have to do one more problem,” he murmured, stress evident in his voice. He clicked his tongue in disappointment and lightly bumped his fist on the surface of his desk. “How am I still not getting this?”

“You’ve been studying for hours,” you told him. And when his eyes still didn’t meet yours, you took it upon yourself to gently hook your finger around his chin and turn his head to meet your gaze. “Coryo, you need to relax,”

His eye bags were prominent in the way it had been almost eighteen straight hours of him being awake and staring at math equations. God, he looked so tired, and all you wanted to do was take care of him and hold him in your arms, just a moment of respite from the terribly demanding academics of university.

You held his face with both of your hands, foreheads touching and eyes closed. “Let me hold you, my dear,” you said, voice hovering above a whisper. “Just for an hour or two, okay? Please?”

There was a slight desperation in the way Coriolanus placed his hands on top of yours and leaned into your touch. You knew he didn’t want to admit that he was close to his breaking point, but he didn’t have to say anything. You took his hands and gently lead from his chair to his bed, in which you guided him to lay within your arms. Immediately, his body molded with yours, and you softly pet his blonde curls as you felt his muscles begin to relax.

“My sweet boy,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head as his arms wrapped around your waist. His face buried within your chest, inhaling the sweet scent of you. “Just relax. I’ve got you…”

Just as you expected, the emotionally exhausted boy was dead asleep within the hour.

18+ | nsfw young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader word count 1,005 cw dirty talk, slightly subby coryo, p in v, unprotected sex, chair sex, finishing inside

Slowly walking up behind Coriolanus at his desk, just making enough noise to make your presence known, you gently run your fingers through his soft blonde curls. You watch with slightly parted lips as his head leans into your touch, his pen still clutched within his hand.

Your voice is soft and smooth with a slight purr as your lips ghost against the shell of his ear. “Baby, it’s been hours,” you sigh. “Don’cha think it’s time for a break?”

Coriolanus taps his pen onto his notebook filled to the brim with various notes. The feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp sends shivers down his spine. You feel so, so good. “I can’t stop,” he says, his voice an exhausted wine. “If I stop now, I won’t want to continue. I have to keep going,”

“And what good would that do?” you ask, your lips dangerously close to his temple. “You’re tired, my dove. You’re tense–” you kiss his temple. “And you’re frustrated.” another kiss. “Why don’t you let me take care of you?”

“I can’t–” he sighs.

“Why not?” Before Coriolanus can say anything else, you swing your leg around to straddle his lap, completely blocking his view of his desk. He tries to lean from side to side to look past your body, but you keep him in his place. “No, no baby, just look at me,” you coo, holding his face in your hands. “Focus on me, my love, can you do that?”

“I’m exhausted,” Coriolanus tries to protest, but as he feels you begin to grind your cunt against his crotch, his voice catches in his throat, and suddenly all words leave his brain.

You suppress a satisfied smirk. “I know, sweet boy, I know you’re exhausted. And that’s why you have to let me take care of you. So relax, my love. Relax,”

You take your finger and drag it along Coriolanus’s bottom lip, opening up his mouth to grant access to your tongue. You taste him deeply, exploring the warmth of his wet tongue and soft lips. The feeling of your sensitive lips sliding and molding against his makes you moan ever so slightly, and you chuckle into the kiss when he, too, emits a moan.

“That’s right, baby,” you whisper. “Just relax,”

You start undoing his pants and Coriolanus doesn’t stop you, watching as his cheeks flush a light pink as you free his semi-hard cock from the confines of his clothing. You reach underneath your skirt and slide your panties to the side, and with a few seconds of adjusting, you slowly sit down on his shaft. You both gasp in unison at the new feelings enveloping the two of you.

Coriolanus curses underneath his breath as your tight, wet walls envelop his dick, and you take him all the way. He’s so deep inside you, making your eyes slightly roll back into your head. “Fuck, baby,” you whisper breathlessly, starting out slowly as you lift yourself up then back down again on Coriolanus’s cock. “So big, so deep…”

It takes a few moments, but you’re soon rocking your hips back and forth and in circles as you ride him, making sure he is feeling exceptionally good. You can’t keep your hands off of his face and shoulders. Hell, you can’t keep your eyes off his face. The expressions he makes as he’s balls-deep in your pussy are absolutely delicious.

However, you catch him at one point trying to take a look at his desk and you’re quick to turn his focus back on you. “No, baby,” you purr. “Look at me. Pay attention to me. Focus on how good my pussy is making you feel. Do you feel good? Yeah?”

Coriolanus looks at you with his pretty blue eyes, lips slightly parted as he pants. “Yes, fuck–” he breathes. “Feels so good. Feels so good on my cock,”

You capture his lips in another kiss, shoving your tongue down his throat to taste as much of him as possible. You wrap your arms around his neck as your hips continue to move with his dick deep inside your pussy. You feel his hands on your hips, following your movements.

You pull away from the kiss and look deep into Coriolanus’s eyes as your lips ghost against his, panting and moaning into his mouth. “You feel so good, baby,” you pant. “Are you gonna come inside me?”

He bats his pretty eyelashes at you. “Can I?”

“Please…” you whisper, guiding his hand to your throbbing clit, and he wastes no time before taking his thumb and rubbing circles around your sensitive nub. You mewl, feeling the apex of your pleasure draw closer and closer.

His moans and gasps of pleasure are so pretty as the both of you bring yourselves to your inevitable orgasms. You feel his cock throb inside you, on the verge of exploding and releasing his seed deep inside you. Your walls contract around his dick, and you know that your climax is near.

“I’m comin’,” Coriolanus whispers. “Gonna come inside your pussy,”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you moan. “You’re gonna make me come–... mmm, ah–!”

With one final gasp, you feel yourself come undone as your pussy drools all over Coriolanus’s cock. Your legs tremble, and the combination of your orgasm and his warm cum filling you up makes your eyes roll back into your head. You close your eyelids and tilt your head back to reveal your neck, in which Coriolanus seizes the opportunity to plant open-mouth kisses all over your throat.

You come down from your high and look Coriolanus in the eye once more, brushing away a stray curl from his voice. You smile sweetly, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. “Feel better, my love?”

Coriolanus thinks for a moment as he catches his breath, then he nods. “Yeah,” he replies. “Yes, thank you. I feel a lot better. I really needed that,”

You press a small, loving kiss to his lips. “Good,” you whisper. “Now go to bed,”

don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

[rookiesbookies]

Hii I hope this doesnt bother you but afab reader who just got married with simon and after their marriage ceremony (im sorry I've never gotten married) he's just ready to make love with them because reader wanted to wait to have mattress mambo with anyone (only being simon)

Its ok my lovely lil anon, i’ve never been married either. But with a lil bit of research (asking my mom) I believe I am decently enough equipt to write this ask! I do what to apologize because Ghost/Simon is one of the harder ones for me to write so I hope I did him justice!

Smut is implied because this was taking longer for me to write than I liked, so sorry there isn’t a full scene. I wanted to publish this sooner rather than later.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the small gathering, the wedding reached its climax. Simon stood at the altar, fidgeting with the edges of his tux, trying to maintain the facade he had carefully constructed for years. It was definitely more difficult with his face free to the air. The team, gathered around him, looked on with a mixture of curiosity and understanding. They knew Simon's reasons for wearing the mask, just as they knew the effort it took for him to even consider taking it off.

It was Soap's wedding that had started it all. Simon had arrived at the ceremony, resolute in his decision to keep his mask on, no matter what. But the others had other plans. When Simon wasn't looking, Soap had swiftly plucked the mask from his face, much to Simon's dismay. The rest of the day had been a blur of laughter and camaraderie, and Simon had begrudgingly admitted that it hadn't been as terrible as he had imagined.

Now, at his own wedding, Simon found himself in a similar predicament. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t put the mask on. As Simon's teammate and Commanding Officer, Price knew Simon better than anyone else, he was who Simon gave the mask to. Today he wasn’t Ghost. This wasn’t a mission, he wasn’t saving the world.

He understood the significance of this moment, not just for Simon but for the entire team. Their resident scary dog was getting hitched. Simon was going to be happy again.

For the first time in years, Simon stood before his friends and loved ones, unmasked and unafraid. He had actually willingly handed off the mask to Price

And as he exchanged vows with his partner, he knew that this moment would forever be etched in his memory as the day he finally let go of the mask he had worn for so long.

The wedding night was as expected, Simon was more jittery than he had ever been.

She had been holding off and Simon expected it. They had kissed before, made out, but they never took it much further and he respected it. He wore blue balls with pride.

“If you decide to back out we don’t have to do anything tonight,” Simon said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“No, I want this. I have wanted this, Simon,” she brought her hands up to his face, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks.

He took one of her hands and pulled her in close. He just stood there and held her.

“I worry you’ll regret it.”

“Marriage or having sex with you?”

“Both.”

“I could never.” She brought her hands to his face, “I love you how the Sun loves the Moon, let me shine my light on you and show you just how much I could never regret anything with you.”

“Are you ready than?” He asked, turning away to unbutton his shirt, “because once I get ahold of you I won’t let go.”

“Simon. We’re legally married. I’m considering burning the receipt so you don’t try to return ME.” She giggled as he turned to pull her back into his body. Leaning over her to undo the corset of her dress before helping lift it over her head to get her out. He hung it on a hanger in the hotel room.

“Never.” Was all he said before he planted kisses down her body, her hands found there way back to his face.

“You got one more time to back out before I’m giving you a safe word.”

“I don’t think I’ll use it.”

“Pineapples.”

“Pineapples? Pineapples.”

That was the conversation before Simon absolutely tackled his now wife onto the hotel bed.

I pity those in the room under theirs.

[kcalsforhim]

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ thursday 9 jan 2025

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i woke up in the worst state someone could find me in LOL. i can’t recall much except feeling so fucking terrible ;; i did go to college and haku didn’t go to college so i was all alone

2 sugar free red bulls

2 sugar free coca cola oreo

in class for the first half i worked on a drawing for college then on the second half i talked with my classmates to make sure i could actually be included in the second half of the group project pretty please. i had a lot of cool ideas and that is a lot of fun im excited for that

then when i was walking home my mom sends me a text, she got called by a number and she’s asking me who it is. i checked and the number called me too

earlier in the day i sent my mental health coordinator at college that i wanted to commit suicide on new years and i ended up not doing it, and that im just kind of lost now ;; and she started panicking and called me

we had a nice conversation on the phone about a new special trajectory for me so that i can calm down and obviously get extra help and bla bla. this has been weighing on me for like.. ever since i started college again, but mostly since start of november, that’s also when i started binge eating.. or well, it started developing.

afterwards i just started to stress and i wanted to binge, it was a good convo, but i wanted to eat everything in sight. instead i went to the shops to spend money there instead since another one of my comforts is shopping. (yeah i know lots of bad comforts)

i went to miniso and got lots of kuromi stuff, bottles and lunch box that’s tiny and even a hair straightener ; then i went to primark and bought a pair of sweatpants and a kuromi hoodie and pyjamas and more kuromi stuff. i also went online and ordered a pair of pants. yes i went crazy.

however, i got no food. when i got to my local train station i began my walk home and my knees wobbled and i just kind of half fell on the floor, i was so exhausted and it was. cold. icy cold. i called my friend and asked him to get me

he did and he was deadass pale like a ghost. he had to hold onto me when we got me some groceries so i could eat. he even pulled out of his savings to have enough for what i wanted to eat

he got me cigarettes and got me everything i wanted, just ingredients for a dish. he held me when i felt my legs giving out lol, he took me home and he gave me the longest hug ever and asked me to keep safe, i told him i would try

a pokebowl containing salad mix, spicy mayonnaise, edamame beans, half of an avocado, carrot shavings, cucumber cubes, shrimp and salmon.

4 courgette hashbrowns / cakes

3 medjoul dates

1 protein yogurt

i didn’t count my cals cause i knew if i didn’t eat something properly i would and will binge eat everything and i was feeling really emotional so i would rather eat salad and salmon than a big thing of cookies… im just saying… 3 dates instead of 1 for the same reasoning

its pathetic but i did half all of the ingredients at the very least, half the avocado, half the salmon, half the shrimp, ect ect. i made my mom a small bowl to eat out of too and that’s where the extra meat went (i ate similar meal today too)

i wanted to eat more and more and more afterwards but i ended up not doing it dont worry. i just chewed a lot of gum to get my jaw moving and active so that i wouldn’t go downstairs to chew on something else yk ?

i am relieved things in my life will change though, i’m relieved. telling everyone in my life i wanted to be gone on new years stressed me the fuck out

fitting for how i felt yesterday, i listened to it a lot that day too… it just resonates with me, you know ?

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ stats for today

streak : 4 days binge free, thank god

cals : n.v.t

steps : 15.2 k

overall today went shit in well, EVERY regard, not just food. im cutting myself a little slack. the next day; so today as im writing this, i did eat the leftovers but only because my friend pulled from his savings for me to be able to eat something i find comfort in. my favourite restaurant is closed, so i have to make their dish from my own memory. i hope you guys understand but im ready to feel terrible by the next day (11th)

༄.°