#i still smoke but it's a special treat now and I try to go 2-3 days inbetween highs. i wouldn't say im sober but I'm not .... bed ridden

[wurmwizzard]

turns out: Doing Less Drugs Makes You Less Crazy ! Can you believe it??

[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ pt.4 ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

This is the result of Hobie brain rot. Was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters.  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

warnings: filthy SMUT , not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, DEGRADATION, implied black reader, afab!reader anatomy, unprotected

You grind against the mound his multiple belts have created, earning a wince from the man below. “I don’t know Bee, how do you usually treat the women you bring home?”

Hobie chuckles a little and flushes slightly when this question is posed, rubbing the back of his neck and giving you a smirk as you grind against him. 

“Well considerin' you came through the window tonight, I think our night's been pretty different.” Both of his hands have found their way to your thighs, kneading the flesh as a way to ground himself, though you doubt that's an effective strategy. “But I usually try to make the girl feel special, you know? Try to cater to their needs and make them feel wanted and desired.” He seems to put quite a bit of emotion into the next part. “So what can I do for you darlin?”

“Anything you want, I’mall yours.” And although you’re slurring now, there’s no doubt you’re serious, still echoing the sentiment from earlier. You take a swing of my drink, finishing it off as he passes the joint back.

Hobie blinks once, and then again as he processes what you said. He watches as you grab the now smoldering joint and take a quick hit of it, thinking about your words for a second. Is she being serious? There’s no way, right?

“Are you being serious darlin’? I want you to be honest.”

“I seriously need you, Hobie-” You grab at his hands that've moved onto your hips, and he squeezes in response. “I’ve been so needy all night, and now you have me. So what are you going to do about it..” You trail off, finishing the joint. Holding the smoke in your mouth, you lean in to kiss the spider. He parts his lips ever so slightly, and accepts the shotgun effortlessly.

Hobie’s grip tightens as your lips meet. He leans in and pulls you closer, letting one arm slide around your waist as you kiss. He closes his eyes and takes in the taste of your lips and warmth, feeling a rush in his body, getting heated up, starting to get lost in his own emotions. He pulls away slightly and looks at you, taking in your beauty. He can’t help but smile when he looks at you, before leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, with hunger.

You break apart breathlessly between kisses. " 'Obie I love your lifestyle, but you have way too much shit on” you groan, trying to pull layers of fabric off at a time.

“You want me to take these off?” He laughs, standing and reaching for the buckle of a belt that adorns his pants. He starts to undo it, then undoes a few more of the decorative ones until he has most of the accessories off. He pauses, looking up at you for guidance.

“Should I keep going?”

“If you don’t I’ll have to rip this shit off myself.” You whisper, standing on tiptoes to meet his lips where you’ve stood.

You extend a claw to show him (and add dramatic effect), and as you trail a single long nail up his stomach, you stop to snag the collar of this spider suit. Hobie feels himself tensing up and his heartbeat quickens when you make your way up his torso. His muscles tighten even more as you snag the collar of his suit. He's trying to keep himself calm and still, but he can’t help it now.

“You gonna tear it?” He says in a whisper, his voice shaky, holding something back. Hobie sighs ever so slightly and starts to slowly take his suit off, pulling the material of his vest away and revealing his skin one piece at a time. It takes a few moments for him to get the whole thing off, but once he does he’s standing there shirtless. “There, happy?”

He grins and takes another hit of the joint, the smoke filling his lungs before he breathes it back out.

“Very much so…” You say, dragging your eyes up and down his figure. He’s lean but built, and you can tell the years of being Spider Punk have both a blessing and a curse. He has some scarring here and there, but there’s a particularly nasty one from his sternum to his happy trail. Feeling bold, you drop to your knees, and drag your tongue along the discolored skin. Hobie lets out a loud groan at that, as you take your tongue to his scar, and closes his eyes to take in the feeling. He feels that tingle run down his spine again, and a feeling of pure ecstasy wash over him. It felt like his whole body was electrified, filled with so much want as you continued to run your tongue along his scar, letting out an occasional moan to express the satisfaction he was feeling.

“That’s… ah, that’s mad… love… what’re you doin’ to me…” Hobie sighs in pleasure as you continue to brush against his skin. “You have no idea how good that feels, doll.”

You reach the top of his boxers, and tease him with a tug of teeth on the waistband. Abandoning his body, you move to untie his boots.

Hobie lets out a loud groan and gives a nod as he reaches over and helps you untie the first boot before starting to untie the other. “You’re driving me crazy darling,” he says with a smirk before grabbing a second beer and taking a long drink from it.

“That’s the point my love.”

Nails still out, you drag them back up his torso before burying them into his wicks, finding his scalp and scratching lightly as you settle back into his lap, pants flung and abandoned nearby. Hobie can feel his body being electrified by the feeling and lets out a deep moan as his muscles start to tense. As you pull your nails up his torso, he begins to run his hands up your sides, down your hips, and then down your thighs a little as he anticipates the next step.

He lets you scratch away and his smile only grows with each nail drag. He looks down and makes eye contact with you before whispering, not wanting anyone in the building to hear. “I’m all yours love, but are you ready for what’s next?”

You continue to kiss and suck at this neck, nails trailing his back and torso mindlessly. “Just waiting for you to take the lead, Brown.”

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a smirk he reaches out and grabs the back of your shirt, slowly beginning to peel it off from over your head. He gets an even bigger smile on his face when he sees you down to your underwear, burying his face in your neck to hide his goofy smile. “How can I say no to someone like you?”

“Prove how much you want me ‘Obie, I don’t want to forget tonight any time soon.” And despite your fuzzy vision and the copious amount of substances coursing through your system, you’d never been so sure of a decision, not even sober. 

Hobie smirks at you and pulls his lips away. You’re right, he needs to show you how much he wants this. He was going to ruin you for anyone else, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“You really gotta be careful what you wish for, love.” He pushes you back down onto the couch, pinning you underneath him. With a smirk he begins to drag calloused hands up your thighs, leaving small marks as rings drag along your hips and he kisses down your stomach. His hands are so big, grabbing and scratching at anything he could reach, the cold metal of his jewelry sending a shiver up your spine.

Hobie grins as he feels you shiver at his touch, a confirmation with every new sensation he’s putting you through. He keeps dragging his nails up your thighs and kisses your legs, his lips slowly moving up to your inner thigh. They twitch open instinctively, and a gasp you hadn’t meant to let out escapes your lips. Noticing the bottle still on the table, you take a swig of Henney as he kisses his way to the lining of your panties.

“I’ve been wantin’ you all day, I promise I won’t be too rough doll.” Hobie reaches the crease of your inner thigh and stops for a second, looking up and smirking. He has an almost mischievous look in his eyes as he holds you there, waiting for the go ahead to continue. “You want this to continue darlin’?”

You roll your eyes and groan, exasperated and tired of his teasing, but a smile still present on your swollen lips. “Do you want me to beg for it?”

Hobie chuckles and gives you a playful nudge on the knee as he pulls his head back, giving one last grin.

“You heard it here first, she wants me to keep going and to make her beg for it.”

“HOBERT!” You yell frustrated, but before you can get up and retaliate, he’s twipped web fluid to pin your wrists together. He’s towering over you now, and completely at his mercy.

“So you like demands? Is that what I’m hearing?” He grins down at you and brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing your hair back and away since you can’t. He looks down into your eyes as he leans in and whispers. “You want me to be rough with you, don't you?” Hobie grins at the web grabbing your wrists, holding you still. He looks down at his handiwork, in awe and proud of his own creation, and leans closer to you as his hands slide down your torso, stopping just above your hips.

He leans in and whispers into the other ear, his breath is hot against your neck, he smells like smoke.

“Say please for me.”

His tone, you’d never heard him this demanding, his cockney accent drowned out by the baritone of his voice, husky and serious. He chuckles darkly at your silence and pulls you closer to him, the spider web still binding your wrists together. “Hobie,” your voice is so breathy, as you plead with him. You don’t even know what you want, but it’s something more than this, you’re sure. He just hums, innocently - and you believe him. You fumble over your words as you try to say something coherent “Please.”

His hand is up and grabbing your face, thumb tracing your jawline and his fingertips touching the side of your face gently, a contrast to the hold he has on you. The softness in his eyes holds a stark contrast to his tone, "Now, are you ready to beg?"

His words make your hips rut up against him with a whine. “Yes, yes yes please, god I’ve been wanting you so long, Hobie, please just fuck me.”

He was feeling for your limits, trying to see how far he could go before the tears, the begging for relief. It was one of his favorite things- pushing until you’re broke. Usually it was with pleasure, overstimulation, worshiping until you were spent- and he finally had permission to have his favorite kind of fun.

“Aw you’re too sweet, love.” Hobie says as he smirks. “Well then, how about we head to the bedroom then. Lay on the edge of the bed for me, yeah?,” he hums. 

You do as you're told, skipping into his space without protest and plopping down on the mattress, legs hanging off the side. He enters immediately behind and you watch him sink, kneeling between your legs. He nudges them apart with his shoulders, looking at you intently as he slowly moves toward you. His arms come under your thighs, immediately grabbing at the supple flesh of your legs and giving a generous squeeze. 

His fingers pulled your panties to the side, and then he was on you. You felt his warm digit brush against your wetness, and you shuddered at his touch, trying your best to relax while he encircled your bundle of nerves. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been touched like this with hands that weren't your own, and his were so much bigger than yours. Bare hands trailed along your soft outer thighs, his focused eyes lingering on every detail of your warm skin. Your whine above the punk star alerted him to your status, earning you a huff of laughter from the spider. You squirm, only waiting for him as he stares at your sex, his jaw slacking ever so slightly. Christ, he knew you were wet but this was a surprise even to him. He uses a finger to touch it, laughing as you jerk at his finger dragging from your opening to the hood. 

“Needy,” he whispers and you writhe. Your hips jerk up to get some contact, and he decides not to wait any longer, one stroke of his tongue is all it takes. Hobie may be nonchalant, but his own desires fuel him enough to give you everything you could ever ask for - his tongue strokes your clit at a speed that’s so consistent it aches – how ironic. His mouth is hot and wet, and his tongue is skillful as your thighs tremble, knees weakened, and voice crying out for him in a way you didn’t know was possible. You lie there, trying to catch your breath and muddle through your thoughts, find something to say even though he already knows the gratitude that you want to convey. He doesn’t wait and you gasp - choking and tugging and falling apart as he curls two fingers into you. 

"You really do want to be used, huh? Showin’ off this leng body of yours at the club, givin’ everyone an eyeful of this ass if you bend over? You're so fucking wet..." He mutters against the skin of your inner thigh. Using both hands, he drags your hips closer, bringing your core right up against his lips, continuing to roll your sensitive nub under his thumb like before, “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says quickly, burying his hot tongue deep into you.

The sensation grew to be too much too fast, bringing your head back against the mattress while squeezing your eyes shut. Despite the raging heat, you felt an orgasm quickly following suit. Hobie however grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading harshly as a way of getting your attention. It worked when you felt the tight pressure in your stomach cease, meeting his narrowed gaze burn straight into yours.

“Eyes.” He growled. “Or this stops.”

You obeyed, you had to. You’d be driven mad if he stopped again.

He watches you intently, eyes burning with lust as you feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, those familiar black nails leaving indents on your skin. Your grip on his wicks tighten as the sensation begins to shift into something a little overwhelming, every muscle in your body seizing as pleasure washes over you in waves, an ecstatic sob catching in your throat as you mindlessly call out his name. 

His breath is hot against your pussy when he laughs at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut again and throwing your head back like that, seemingly amused by how well of a job he’s done, licking languidly as he allows you to gradually come down from such a brilliant high. “Wanted to do that for so long," he muttered, half to you, half to himself.

Your glossy eyes flutter open at the loss of stimulation even though the lingering sensation is more than enough, barely capable of catching your breath as you eagerly meet his gaze again. His hair is tousled and unkempt, mouth still wet from your arousal as he presses a kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you satisfied love?” Hobie asks when you look coherent enough to respond. A sigh is all you can manage in response. 

“That’s a pity,” Hobie replies as he begins to crawl back up the length of your body. Painstakingly, he peppers kisses along the outline of your neck and jaw until his mouth arrives just below your ear with a hushed whisper, “Because there’s so much more I want to do to you.” 

Your stomach tightens almost instantly, turning your head to see the devastatingly sinister grin that’s found itself on his face, and before you can respond you feel his lips against yours. His enthusiasm is overwhelming, almost to the point where you forget the lingering taste of yourself that sits sweetly on his tongue. 

"I knew there was a little brat somewhere in there, a dirty girl that wanted nothing more than to be used." You were suddenly on your stomach again, then your knees as he yanked your hips roughly off his comforter. You heard the metallic clink of his last belt as he unhooked it with one hand, the other shoving your head into his push pillows, granting him a full view of your backside. You bit your lip, anticipating, breathing in the scent of him that filled the room around you. 

Instead of being deliciously filled, you feel the leather of his belt loop around your neck and pull you up harshly, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the man behind you, finding none as he swats them away.

“I want to hear that filthy mouth of yours beg some more, darling,” he whispered directly into your ear. “You wanted a challenge? Beg for me, and I’ll reward you.”

Whatever Hobie Brown wants, he gets. 

Your mind ran, heartbeat racing, and your breaths growing shorter. Tears welled up in your eyes, feeling frustrated and oh so hot. Your throat and pride burned, ‘Please, please, please,’ are the only words you seem to remember and he adores the sound. His fingers grip your thighs, bruising as you finally, finally feel him pressed against your entrance.

“To be honest,” his voice is low and gravelly when he speaks to you, and it lights a fucking fire in you again, “I’ve been thinking about fucking you recklessly for the last two months, I can barely handle myself around you right now,” and it kills you because he sounds so serious, desperate. Your thighs try to press together naturally, and you whisper out a final plea and it’s the nail in the coffin.  

He yanks the belt again, forcing you to look back at him in the eyes. “And now you’re all mine.”

He leans forward a little, using his hand to line up his length against your slit, holding his breath as you feel your heart hammer in your chest in anticipation. Once it’s done there’s no going back to how things were before, even though you have already come this far. 

Immediately, he snaps his hips with a force that knocks you breathless. In any other position, you would’ve been completely limp, yet his hands are wrapped securely around your hips, digging into the plush skin. There’s a little resistance at first as your body adjusts to such an unfamiliar stretch, a shiver running through you as you feel yourself stretch around him even before he’s made it all the way in, his earlier foreplay making the experience much easier despite his immense size. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.” His voice strains as he speaks.

Hobie is aggressive with it – a far cry from his usual exchanges with you – and yet you take him so well. He’s jackhammering you, nailing you to the bed each and every time with a ferocity even he didn’t know he was capable of. He shifts his position to bury himself in you at a sharper angle, the expression on his face dark and feverish as his strong hands mimic the belt secured on your neck, fucking you into the mattress roughly. His dick rearranges your inside with such brutality you feel like you'll come away with bruises flowering your tanned skin after this. It burns and aches and feels so good as he rocks against your g-spot over and over and over. 

“Fuck -” He hisses at the tightness when you clench around him, the muscles in his legs contracting as he can feel himself approaching his own end at the sight of you so wonderfully undone. There’s no reason to hold back anymore, but he can’t help and close his eyes to try and last a little longer. He’s throbbing at how wonderful you feel as your back arches impossibly farther, a series of desperate groans escaping your throat as he pounds into you and gives himself over. 

“You’re just a toy for me to use however I want huh?” He grabbed a fistful of your hair, craning your neck at a deliciously painful angle as he rammed into you doggy style.

“But you like that, don’t you? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

It was insanely hot, HE was insanely hot – and your walls clenched tightly around him as the words process, an involuntary announcement to him that you were really, really enjoying this.

Head pushed back down on the bed, you could do nothing but moan for the man to fuck you harder as he kept guiding you towards another orgasm. And you could be nothing but grateful as another wave of pleasure washed over your body, making your already weak form shudder.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ break you,” he spat, angling even deeper, suddenly assaulting your G-spot with the head of his dick. “That’s all you deserve, my little bitch.”

SMACK!

His hand came down on your ass, the feeling making you jump. Your face burned for a moment, eyes filled with tears, and stars clouded your vision. Looking over your shoulder (the best you could manage), you watch ‘your’ man stare back with hungry eyes, thrusting erratically now, starting to feel a familiar burn in his blood. You were feeling the same kind of pressure, your legs tensing as you tried to prepare your body, sore from the extent of his demonstrations. He leans down, pressing his chest against your back covered in a sheen of sweat, biting at your neck.

“You’re mine, fuck a label.”

The phrase threw you unexpectedly over the edge, pussy clamping down and pulling him over with you. He slammed into you so hard you felt like he was fucking up into your stomach. Hobie doesn’t have the capacity to pull out as he comes, gratification and lust dulling all thought or reason he has as he finishes inside, all the tension in his body unraveling as he stutters and comes to a stop, his chest heaving as his breath begins to catch up on him.  His breath comes in heaves, yours in whimpers. A thin string of fluids connects his tip to your entrance for a moment when he pulls out, and like a lewd spiderweb, breaks against the sheets.

You collapsed onto your stomach, feeling every bit of the phrase ‘fucked silly’, bottom half convulsing and pulsing. He quickly gets up to grab a towel from one of the drawers so that he can clean up the mess ya’ll just made, his cum spilling out of you just as he returns. 

His hand reached over to find yours, interlocking your sweaty hands. He looks back up and meets your gaze – a soft affectionate expression etched onto his face that makes your heart murmur. 

You’re so glad that you chose him, and as far as you can tell he feels exactly the same. 

“I’m sorry,” He chuckles as he wipes you down. “I got a little carried away.”  

[lactosa2]

Omen, i have no other bitch in mind

cc: Drabble, soft, non relatonship but still romantic in my way.

ARE WE OKAY THEN?

Omen lately have been distant, well, he is always distant, but now was even more distant that he usually is, so you tough that might you did something wrong, that you said or did something and now he was piss and no talking.

Is not like this, but in some way you liked to suffer, it showed you that you are not crazy or a atenttion seaker when you feel or say that you are in a bad mental space, still, you felt a need. A strange and toxic need of always being worst, always being paranoid and living whit that fear that something gonna mess up all the rigths decitions you have made, deep down, you wanted to be in a bad place, being manipulated, being assaulted, discriminated, all because when you were you had a excuse to at least being sad, having the rigth for rotting in bed for days and not being called lazy, showing other people that you are not crazy, that you ARE vulnerable

That was one of the main reason Omen and you got so well, even at the first meet, he wasn´t polite, caring, or something that made you feel conected whit him, but you could see his pain, his suffering, is not a kink shit, only that as same as you, he didn´t see you as a lack of person, he only saw you as a anoyying one, and that was enough, and more because for you he was anoying to.

You had two faces, 1: want to show how bad and miserable your life actually is, because being honest, it is! - 2: Want to be seeing as a person, not as one you have to feel sorry, so so sorry that you give it atention in case that poor little and vulnerable things is thinking on suicide. People was rude whit it, how dare you to be sad? and of you dare to not let them wash their sins by trying to help you in not a solidary way? how????

Whit thinking that everyone around you feel sorry for you, you started to close, ignore and cut ties whit people and just acepting help from yourself, that little voice in the back of your mind that told you that eating less wasn´t going to make you pretty and loved, the voice that told you that you actually deserved being alive, the little voice that told you that not everyone have to cares about others, and that´s not selfish. Conciencia, that how others called it if you live in a place where you speak spanish, you tried but didn´t find logic on it, end of all, you didn´t thinked that much about racional things, and most important, you didn´t know.

Strange feeling between sadness and rage, but you feel it, yes, why? idc, and you didn´t either.

2:45 A.M

Talking whit Omen was relaxing, talking whit someone more mess up than you is terapeutic, making you feel like you can be worst and youre not, one of the last things you can say you are proud about. He wasn´t gently, polite, loving, he didn´t even care when in a mission someone shot you, and that was made him so special. Not because you liked men that are cold heart and a dicks whit everyone, i hope that you had a present father figure on your childhood. but ignoring that. He treated you as a person, as everyone else, and that is... good, actually pretty good, he is not sweet whit you, but he is not sweet, he is not! is not special to you because your not! and that tough it was better than a orgams itself, making you feel as a person. and for that reason he was in your place for more than 3 moths.

You were siting on the chair of the balcony since one hour aprox, smoking a cigarrete, even if the hole protocol told you it was bad for you, you are not better than the 77% of people that smokes arround the world.

you felt his hand hitting softly the back of your head, laughting in a low voice you moved the head to see Omen, his hand on the chair frame, his figure tall and kind of impresive.- "So you don´t hate me? no more?" you asked whit a frow, letting the cigarrete burn itselft, you have something more adictive to concentrate on. "Who said that?" he asked while walking away from you (:c) and siting on the other chair besides you. "Me" he giggled whit a voice that make him look like a smoker since his -9 years, you giggled at his laught and kicked softly his feet,-" Hey, im talking serious.." his head shaked sighly at your words, "Nothing, just thinking" he said whit his arms crossed

you laid both of your legs on his lap, looking at him whit head moved a little to the side, in doubt. "I don´t bothers me that you are here.." you whispered, since he was here it feels easy to live, even if he isn´t much of talking. -"I don´t want you to feel alone, i know you do, but i care, i really really really care."- you tried to convice him, your words going out in a soft loving purr, he better to buy the enchant. One of his hand touched your leg caressing it whit his tumb, "I know you do... i wouldn´t be here if you didn´t." his words were low, his head looking at the deep dark sky.

"So you don´t hate me?" you said whit a teasing fake smile, smoking whit a eyebrown raised and your legs rubbing in his lap.- "How could i?"

[geeky-politics-46]

COVID Cuddles

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: It finally got you! You are sick with COVID-19 and missing Stephen's cuddles

Warnings: reader has COVID, pandemic references, slight angst with fluffy happy ending, language

This fic is totally self-indulgent as i am sick with COVID right now & my Doctor Strange teddy bear is one of the things keeping me company. So I made it into a story. Probably lots of errors as I'm sick & drugged

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

You looked up at him in the doorway, masked fave peeking through, from where you sat on the bathroom floor. Tissues shoved up both nostrils as you waited for the bathroom to fill with steam from the shower before you tossed a Vicks vapor shower bomb under the water. Hoping that it would make it easier to breathe. Or at least make it sound like you didn't smoke 4 packs of cigarettes a day.

You had made it 3 years without getting COVID-19, but finally it got you. Despite the 2 original vaccines and 2 boosters. Your number eventually came up. You knew it would eventually. You just hoped the vaccines would make the illness shorter still.

"Well, I feel like I swallowed broken bits of light bulb, and I had a coughing fit so bad earlier I nearly puked. So I'm fucking fabulous."

They never mentioned a side effect of COVID was that it made you mean. Of course, maybe that was just you. You knew with your asthma you had to throw everything at this now just in case. So that was what you were doing. Currently waiting for your 6 hours between NyQuil shots with an ibuprofen chaser to elapse so you could top yourself up and get a good 3 hour nap before starting the waiting process all over again.

It made matters even worse that the moment you tested positive you basically became a leper. Stephen, Wong, and America banished you to the bedroom and adjoining bathroom. Wong even put up a quarantine spell that would alert them if you tried to leave the room.

You understood why. The Sorcerer Supreme and one of the Avengers getting severely ill probably wouldn't be a good thing. Much too tempting for the forces of evil. No one really knew if America could get COVID, having traveled the multiverse she probably had antibodies to things that didn't even exist in your world, but it was better safe than sorry.

Still though, a cuddle sounded really good right about now, and that was one thing Stephen couldn't give you. At least not until you were no longer contagious. You still had a couple days to go before that was even a possibility.

He was doing his absolute best to give you anything he thought you might need. Leaving trays and bags of food and medicine. Occasionally throwing in some candy or a random little treat he thought would cheer you up. He was trying so hard. Especially when you knew he wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner as a Doctor.

You hated snapping at him. You just felt genuinely terrible, and you knew that you just had to ride it out. For the most part, by yourself. It almost felt worse when he would check on you, knowing that you couldn't go hug him or even hold his hand without exposing him even more than you already had.

"I know you are miserable right now, and I know I don't have to keep bringing you all sorts of stuff beyond food and drugs. However, America showed me something that we both decided you needed. It's a friend to keep you company."

He reached inside and set down a large plain white paper gift bag. Stepping back and closing the door so you could move to get the bag, taking it back to your spot by the tub before looking in the bag.

As you peeked in the bag, you were immediately about to burst into tears. Inside was a fairly large brown teddy bear. What made it special though was that it was styled to look like Stephen.

It had blue eyes and a very dark brown goatee on its face. That alone was enough to make you giggle. The fact that it was wearing a version of Stephen's blue sorcerer's robes and it's own little Cloak Of Levitation attached to it's shoulders with velcro was just icing on the cake.

It was perfect. Soft and perfect size to snuggle while still being well formed enough that stayed looking like Stephen. Just Stephen in teddy bear form.

"Stephen, it's perfect! I love him so much! This is exactly what I needed. Thank you"

He peeked back through the door to see you already snuggling the bear tight to your chest. Happy tears on your cheeks and for the first time in days a smile on your face.

You couldn't see it behind his mask, but he was smiling too. So relieved that he could make you feel better even for just a little but. He figured you missed cuddling. He knew that he missed it. He had stolen one of your sweatshirts to snuggle, so he thought it was perfect when America showed him the bear.

Now once you were better, he might have a problem with the bear if he was there for you to cuddle instead. He would deal with that when the time came though. For now, he would share you.

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[lesbianneopolitan]

A great compilation of most recent headcanons of my Neo like (I may have mentioned a bunch of these before but):

1. Despite her wild personality, she loves to have her room all tidy and in order. It's harmonious for her. This counts even for places she's just passing by, like hotel rooms and such.

2. Her favorite alcoholic drinks are those that are sweet as hell. Caramel Vodka, lollipop liquors, strawberry gin with some soda and the like. She may add even sweeter treats to them, like gummies, marshmallows, chocolate and so on.

3. She loved to drive the gamer community insane by recording videos of Semblance-modified gameplays. Impossible secrets, cheats, and the like.

4. Despite having her hands covered by gloves the 99% of the time, when she doesn't, one can perceive she paints her nails pink and brown, alternating on each finger. Same with her toes.

5. She loves to smell sweet to go with her appearance, so her main perfumes include strawberry and whipped cream, vanilla and cotton candy. Ironically enough, despite smoking, she hates the smell and ends up trying to cover it with more perfume before taking a bath later.

6. Her hair is incredibly soft to the touch, even her pink layered side- being close to cotton candy in texture.

7. Her eyes change color to indicate moods at times: two white eyes when she's scared or stressed, and right brown + left white when she's specially sadistic and enjoying the moment.

8. One of her favourite ways to drink tea is with milk, even if she won't reject the most classical brews.

9. Even if she has a morning routine to exercise, she's not exactly a morning person. Crime works better at night, so her 'morning' is usually around 11am. Despite her own habits, she adapts quickly to any schedule if needed. And needs no alarms to wake up at x time.

10. This Neo is a Pisces. Born March 1st. A sign said to be very creative, intuitive and dreamy. Furthermore, the twin fishes represent what she is, in a way. With the duality of what she once was.

11. By herself, she was the one to bury Roman's remains in a park they both used to love. The makeshift grave at Vale's cemetery is actually symbolic, even if it's the one she visits the most.

12. It's on rare occasions, but Neo still likes to play violin in her intimacy from time to time.

13. Post-possession her nails grow faster and shaped liked claws- hating them, she obsessively tries to cut them all the time, specially when she prefers having her whole hands covered by gloves.

14. Neo hates the feeling of sleeping alone, so if she's not sleeping and clinging to a partner, she clings to a stuffed toy instead, or a pillow.

15. Despite having been used to get one-night stands from clubs and the like, Neo HATES clubs and crowded places. Too loud for her.

16. Her body temperature tends to lower pretty fast, so she gets cold easily when in the right weather. It's why she loves finding excuses to get cozy and warm, specially if her partner is close.

17. She actually hates some foods because of texture, not because of taste. It happens with many vegetables and it's what makes her 'picky'.

18. Her senses actually heightened to that of a cat post-possession. Not being used to be more sensitive, she's still getting used to the better hearing and smell sense specially. At least she can see in the dark now-

19. She still has a lot of nightmares about her past, but specially of more recent events, like Roman's death and the possession by the CC. SPECIALLY the possession of the CC as of late.

20. Sometimes she uses her Semblance to 'bind' her chest if she doesn't feel like dealing with the burden of her titties.

21. Her favorite bubblegums are those that are filled with a sweet strawberry syrup inside. She likes the sensation of chewing and it exploding inside her mouth before she starts to munch it properly.

22. One of the musicians she listens the most to, is Halsey (Remnant equivalent, anyway, I'm making this canon to her)

[bajisbabe]

# IT’S JUST A CIGARETTE

you need a cigarette but he won’t let you have one | Aki x Reader

warnings: smoking, kissing, Aki and the reader enemies if you squint, but the reader is eager to gain his recognition too, the reader is a lil’ naive, lil’ bit of a brat, lil’ bit of a crybaby, and sucks at smoking.

synopsis: Takes place during the mission in Chapter 15. Aki is your partner on said mission. While the others are away, patrolling the halls, you find that you need something to ease the stress, so you take one of his cigarettes. And he doesn’t like that.

song: none.

photo cred (left to right): 1 2 3

You and Aki have been paired up on a mission. Forced to chase down a devil that won’t stop running. And now, it has led you to a floor in which you’re trapped in some kind of labyrinth. And try as you might, you can’t seem to find an exit.

To make matters worse, you and Aki decided to stay behind while the rest of your unit patrolled the halls. Gradually, it began to feel like hours had passed and none of them had returned. Had you known it would take this long, you would’ve gone with them.

Of course, this situation is weighing heavy on your shoulders. It has been hours—or at least that’s what you think. You can’t be sure now that the clock has stopped. Aki has left the room momentarily to check the hallway, and you notice that he’s left his pack of cigarettes on the table.

So you casually stroll up to the pack and decide to take one, feeling no guilt as you doubt he’ll miss a single cigarette. You bring the cigarette to your lips, peering around to see if you can find what you need to light it. Unfortunately for you, he hadn’t left his lighter behind. And before you can find a lighter, Aki comes rushing in through the door.

And he is quick to ruin your attempt at finding some kind of relief.

“No.” He says, snatching the stick from your fingers and tossing it to the ground. He stomps on the tobacco with his foot, grinding it into pieces and staining the carpet below. “M’not letting you smoke that. It’ll rot your bones—”

“But you smoke it!” You whine, throwing your arms out in exasperation. You were stressed and needed something to take the edge off. Surely, a smoke wouldn’t hurt; even if it was your first. “You smoke all the time, and I—”

“I don’t care,” he cuts you off coldly, glaring at you from out of the corner of his eye. “If I say you’re not smoking, then you’re not smoking.”

You sit in silence for a moment, pouting some as you glance up at him from under your lashes. He has his back turned, looking out int the hallway to see if he can find your co-workers. You decide to take your chance then, reaching out for the pack of cigarettes and taking another.

Just as you’re about to put it between your lips, he grabs you by the wrist. His grip unyielding as he yanks you closer, “I said, you’re not smoking.” He grits out through bared teeth. “Why won’t you listen to me—?”

“You’re not my dad,” you say childishly. And before you can pull away, his grasp on you tightens to an extent that has your knees buckling. You crumple, hissing in pain as he works the stick from your fingers yet again.

“Don’t argue with me, stupid.” He spat, eyes blank as he took the cigarette from you. He pulls it to his lips, tugging a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the cigarette. He shows no remorse or guilt as you sit there, on the floor, rubbing your wrist as though the pain will go away.

He catches your eye for a brief second, causing you to look away. You despise him. You don’t want anything to do with him. He’s selfish, he’s crude, he’s mean, and he just overall doesn’t treat you very well.

You hate him.

But you have no other option as all the devil hunters have been paired up or assigned to someone else. You and him are a team now, you just wish you weren’t.

“M’supposed to be your partner,” you grumble under your breath. You don’t intend to cry, but you feel a lump forming in your throat and the backs of your eyes are burning. “Yet, you don’t even treat me like an equal.”

He takes a long drag of the cigarette, parting his lips to let the smoke swirl and curl in the air before his eyes. And you’re envious. Tobacco must serve him well if he has a habit of smoking. It must make him feel good or something. You want to feel good too.

“I’ll treat you like an equal when you start acting like one,” he says, quietly and calmly. He always seems so nonchalant about things, never feeling strongly about anything unless it concerns his past or the Gun Devil specifically.

Your nose burns as the room begins to fill with lingering smoke and the scent of tobacco. You try not to make a disgusted expression; trying not to prove his point that you don’t need a cigarette. But you can’t help it as a frown appears on your lips.

He notices immediately, an eyebrow raising and a subtle tug of his lips. But it disappears before you can see it. He approaches you, steady and fast. His waist bent as he sank to your level, “Wanna smoke that bad, huh?”

The smell is enough to make you seriously regret your decision. You try to shake your head, or voice that you’ve changed your mind. But he is already grabbing you by the arm and tugging you to your feet.

“Don’t act shy now,” he says, the cigarette wiggling between his lips. One hand clutches your shoulder, the other working the lit cigarette out of his mouth. You pull back but he doesn’t let go, his fingers holding the cigarette and pressing it to your lips.

You jolt, attempting to push him away. He doesn’t budge, pressing harder until you relent. And you have a split second to note that the tip is damp with what you suspect is his saliva.

“Breathe in,” he says.

You turn away, trying to escape the sudden burning of your lungs. He shows no mercy, clutching your shoulder harder and practically shoving the cigarette into your mouth.

“Breathe in,” he repeats. “Do it now. Show me that you’re my equal.”

His equal. So, that’s what this is about. Your lungs burn as you inhale, taking too quick of a breath and doubling over as he removes the cigarette from your mouth. You cough and gag, spitting up as you try to rid of the taste it left behind.

He again shows no remorse or guilt. He simply takes another drag from the cigarette, seemingly uncaring that the same cigarette was just in your mouth. He taps the end of it against the table, letting the ash fall as he watches you cough and sputter.

“You wanna be treated like my equal, right?” He said, eyeing you from the side. He watches your eyes become glossy and wide as you finally catch your breath. Cruel and inconsiderate and he pushes on with the one-sided conversation. “Then take another drag, and don’t cough it all out this time.”

He holds his hand out, the cigarette balanced between his long fingers. His expression is blank as he waits patiently for you to make a move. You can feel your eyes burning just at the thought of having to take another drag. You don’t even want to entertain his cruelty, but you desperately want him to treat you fairly.

… should you…?

You gulp thickly, throat itchy as you slowly reach out. But before you can touch it, he pulls the cigarette away.

“Uh uh,” he says quietly, no emotion present in his voice. “...C’mere.”

You blink back tears of discomfort, still trying your damnedest not to choke over the remnants of smoke left behind from the first drag. You bite your lip, hesitating. But eventually you come to him. And he beckons you closer and closer until you two are only a breath away.

“Here,” he mumbles. “Do as I say, okay?”

You nod, your eyes on him the whole time. And he feels a strange shudder run down his spine. Something about the way you’re looking at him and how obedient you’re being. He likes it.

“Open your mouth”—you part your lips for him, and he gently places the cigarette on the curve of your lower lip—“Now breathe in. Slowly.”

He watches you take another drag, your chest trembling as you fight back the urge to cough. And you succeed in taking in the smoke. A small smile tugs at his lips as he instructs you again. “Hold it…” his eyes rack over your face, focused intently at every little twitch and jerk. “Now let it all out.”

You rush the exhale, coughing and sputtering again but not as much as before. You don’t notice the hint of admiration in his eyes as he looks at you. There’s something he likes about you—something he never noticed before.

He could’ve sworn he disliked you before. He always thought of you as lazy, ignorant, and overly passive. But something had changed in the last couple of seconds. He liked you.

“Have I”—the rasp of your voice draws his attention—“Have I proved myself yet?” Your eyes are watering, one squeezed shut as you gasp and swallow. Smoking clearly wasn’t for you. But you were desperate to please.

Maybe that’s what he liked. How you seeked recognition. Or maybe, how you fought so hard to prove yourself to him when he was no one special. You must respect him then, if you serve to please.

The corner of his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. He couldn’t, not with you looking at him. So close, mere inches away from your lips brushing his. And you seemed unbothered by the lack of space between you two. He would take advantage of your naviety to social cues later, but now he had something else in mind.

“No,” he said.

“No?” You repeated, having to clear your throat after hearing how ghastly you sounded. “Whaddya mean ‘no?’”

“I mean, no.” He said, shrugging as he walked past you. Only one or two steps away before he turned to you, having to bite back a cruel grin. He liked toying with you like this. It was nice, and it took the stress of the situation away.

Maybe, he would do this more often. You could have his cigarettes in turn, and he could play with you instead. He wouldn’t need the sticks if he had you.

“One more.” He said quietly. “One more drag and I’ll consider you my equal.”

You stood in silence for a moment, unsure of whether or not to believe him. What little you knew of Aki hadn’t brought you to believe that he was a bad guy. He didn’t seem like the type to toy with others, not that you knew of. But you didn’t know much it seems. Foolishly agreeing with a curt nod of the head, “Okay.”

You tried to snatch the cigarette from his hand, far too confident in your ability to do as he asked. But like before, he dodged you. Eyes narrowing as he gestured you to come closer. His fingers curl as you follow his lead.

“This one’ll be different.” He said.

“What?” You muttered. “Well, that’s not fair. Why should this one be different if the other two were—”

“You wanna be my equal or not?”

That shut you up. With a huff, you glanced over at him, waiting for further instruction. His heart stuttered at the sight of your obedience. You were listening to him and without fuss. He found it intriguing.

“C’mere.” He said.

You wanted to argue, to say that you couldn’t get any closer considering you were already as close as could be. But you didn’t bother, knowing he would likely just shut you down and cut you off again.

You pressed closer, your bodies brushing against each other. And for a split second, you thought about how bad of an idea this was. The devil could show up at any moment and you would be unprepared if you kept messing around with Aki. Or even worse, Denji and the others could walk in and you’d never hear the end of it. But you found yourself justifying the action with the simple thought that you could win Aki over like this.

You and him would be a team for real this time. And he would treat you as an equal and you could work so well together. Wouldn’t that make all this worth it?

You decided that you were going to go through with it, no matter what he asked of you. But you hadn’t been expecting it honestly—what he said next.

“I’m gonna take a drag, and then feed it to you, okay?”

You froze, eyes blown wide and brows furrowing. What was this, some kind of joke? You choked, and not on the smoke this time. “Very funny,” you spat. Your defenses coming up quick, you didn’t even think twice before saying it. “I’m not doing that—”

“Don’t you wanna be my equal?”

You stammer and stutter, unsure of what to say as he takes a drag from the cigarette, closing the space between you both quickly. You put your hands up as though to push him away. But you freeze again, body stiff as he grabs you by the jaw. He tilts your chin, working his tongue into your mouth with ease.

And you find yourself clutching onto his arms, as he tugs you closer. The smoke swirling out of the spaces where your lips don’t quite meet. Your lungs burn and your eyes itch, but you don’t pull away. Whether because of your eagerness to please or because of how good his tongue feels against your own, you don’t know.

But when he pulls away, your head is hazy and it’s hard to breathe.

“Breathe,” he reminds you, his large hand placed on the space just below the base of your neck. “Come on. Breathe.”

And you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You can feel the blood rush to your head, your face heating up. Why had you done that, why had you followed him so mindlessly?

What were you thinking? What if he told someone, or if someone found out? Would you be fired? He’s your mission partner, you can’t just—

“So? Now that you’re my equal,” He says suddenly, causing you to flinch. He raises a brow before continuing without much care. “Did that ease your stress or do you need another smoke?”

[eclectickss]

Make Me Feel Special (1/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: Mommy issues/kink, sexual implications, major age gap (reader is of age)

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Word Count: 3K?

Link to Part 2

A/N: Not grammar checked at all! A blurb gone big!(still at writers block on PGATW) But requests are open! I’ve never done one before but i’m willing to try. <3

-

-

-

You entered the apartment and placed your keys in the dish and jacket on it’s hook, making your way into the kitchen to place your to-go food in the fridge. Jane sat at the island on the computer you shared, and you smiled.

“Hey, I picked up sandwiches for dinner. Hope that’s cool.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Your best friend didn’t look up, but it didn’t really bother you. Well, she was your only friend, but still.

You and Jane had been sharing the apartment for years now, The two of you working a good job to afford it and making a livable income. You had been close since high-school, due to your similar social status, but beyond the two of you, nobody was too good at making friends.

From what she had told you, Jane’s mom wasn’t around much when she was growing up. Jane was a teen pregnancy, and ever since she was born, her mom made no time for her daughter. Agatha, was her name.

Agatha came from a wealthy family, though. Her parents (Jane’s grandparents) wouldn’t allow her to use the family money for her child, much less anything else. She struggled with Jane, and therefore the two of them were ever close.

Agatha’s parents died when Jane was in high-school, so her mom inherited their wealth, but their relationship was past salvageable. At least in Jane’s eyes, it was.

Jane was always telling you about how bad of a mom Agatha was and about how you were lucky that you didn’t have to deal with someone like her. Jane didn’t understand though. You would had given anything to have someone like Agatha. Even if she wasn’t around to much, it was still better than nobody at all.

-

-

-

You were now setting the table for two as you pulled the sandwiches out of the fridge, also finding some strawberries to place at the table. You now were looking through the pantry for chips when you heard a knock at the door and Jane moving around to answer it.

“Mom?!” You heard at the door while you still had your head buried in the pantry. Your eyes widened at the name, never expecting to hear it in your life (in that context, at least). You thought Agatha was out of the picture. “What are you doing here?” You stayed silent as you listened from around the corner.

“Well, I think it’s long overdue that we had a talk, Jane, honey.” She sounded a little more raspy than you were expecting, but that doesn’t say much about someone who used to be an addict.

“We don’t do that, Mom. Anyways, now isn’t a good time.” You heard your friend sigh. The woman was your literal mother... you could at least give her five minutes, you thought.

“I want to start, honey. Please just let me in?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“C’mon, kiddo.” She begged, and you felt a little bad for how Jane was acting. You know her mom wasn’t a great person, but she was still her mom.

You never got to have one of those.

“If this is just you on another one of your sobriety stunts...”

“I’m really trying this time, Jane! I know I fucked up, baby, but please.”

“Fine.” Your friend grumbled. You heard increasing footsteps and your heart raced as you were about to meet the source of Jane’s complaints and drama.

You hurried to sit at the kitchen counter before the two women caught you snooping, but your gaze snaps up just in time to see Agatha Harkness walk into the room.

Jane might have always mentioned that her mother was any and all variations of a bitch, but she failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Her messy brown hair sat on top of an old purple cardigan and worn out jeans, followed by a pair of well-used slip-on shoes. The look together was not extremely flattering, but Agatha somehow pulled it together in a way that made your stomach turn. Your eyes raked her down, but you think she caught you when you met her gaze again. She smirked softly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests!” She says as her own eyes follow your figure, and you wonder if she’s just doing it to mock you or flatter you. She looks back up with a glimmer in her eye, and you decide on the latter option. Your face goes red, but you try and brush her actions off, not wanting to mistake it for anything else.

“Didn’t I say that this was a bad time?” Jane grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harkness. My name is YN.” You smiled as you held out your hand.

“Call me Agatha, darling.” She stared into your eyes. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Jane’s friends.” You panic under her gaze.

“We were just about to sit down for dinner, if you want to join us. We don’t have any food for you, but-“

“Oh, thank you... I was hoping I could talk to Jane in private, though.” She walked over to the table and took a seat.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to YN, too.” The two of you joined Agatha at the table.

A long moment of awkward silence passsed between the three of you before your guest finally spoke up.

“I want you in my life, Jane. For real this time.”

Nobody says anything, and dishes stop clattering.

“I know I shoulda done this earlier... hell, I shoulda done this when I got claim to my parent’s money, but I want to look after you. I never got the chance to do that when you were young... cause of all the drinking and working... but I can do that now. I’m ready.”

Jane sat with her mouth open and a half eaten sandwich forgotten on her plate.

“No, Mom, you shoulda done this from the moment I was conceived. You don’t get a second chance with me. I’m not giving you a second chance, or a third or a fourth or whatever number you wanna give yourself. You wanna know why? It’s because I already did that. And you let me down every single time.”

Agatha looked a little speechless.

“Fine, then.” She sighed. “I won’t bother you again.” But it hurt you to watch a daughter turn away her mother, when that was an opportunity that you wanted so badly. “Is it alright if I stay the night, though? It’s a long drive back to my place.”

Jane rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother was being dramatic, but didn’t want to put up with any more of her antics. “I better not see you in the morning. YN can get blankets for the couch.”

-

-

-

“Hey, Jane,” You sighed as you entered her room.

“Hey, YN. I’m sorry you had to deal with the shit show that is my mother. I can’t believe she just walked in here and expected me to accept her pathetic invitation.”

“No, it’s ok. She’s not that bad with me.”

“Well she just met you. I just don’t understand why she thought showing up unannounced would magically make me want a mother again. It’s fucked up.” Jane said, but you couldn’t sit there and watch her tear down something that you wish you had.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and rushed out of her room before she could say anything else.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, then headed over to the sink for some tap water. The cool liquid rushed down your throat as you held down your tears, thankful that nobody was around.

“Hey, Honey,”

Shit. You forgot that Agatha was on the couch.

You turn around to see her meeting your gaze, although her eyes quickly found the way to the rest of your body.

“You doing alright, babygirl?” The nickname made you heat up. She spoke with concern and care; something that Jane chose to ignore, which made you feel bad for Agatha. You wish that Jane wouldn’t take for granted what her mother was trying to offer her.

“Uh... yeah... I guess.” You sigh, hopping up to sit on the counter as you watch the other woman fill her own glass at the sink. “Jane is just... being a little hard right now.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to lose the trust of your friend but also wanting to gain the trust of another.

“What do you mean?” You realize the situation you have put yourself in.

“It’s just... I didn’t have a mom at all growing up. Or a dad. I had my shitty uncle... until he tossed me into the foster system. I had it real rough... and it still kinda is... but Jane has been helping. That’s why we’re friends at least. She might view me as a charity project, but i’m desperate, I guess.”

“What does all of this have to do with Jane being hard, hon?” She leaned onto the counter across from you.

“She didn’t really have a mom, either... growing up. No offense.”

Agatha shrugged. “I know.”

“But now that she’s given an opportunity to have one, she turns it down... and it makes me jealous. Mad. Angry.” You pause. “I know I’ll never get the chance at a mom, but she has one. And fuck, I would give so much to have that.”

“To have someone like me? A recovering drunk who treated their teen pregnancy like a joke?”Agatha sighed into her hands, but her words meant so much more to you than she may ever know.

“Yeah. To have someone like you. Someone who cares.” At that, she looked up with a new light in her eyes, but you don’t meet her gaze. You don’t want her to see the blush or desire written on your face, so instead, you pull a cigarette out from your jacket pocket.

She watches you as you hop down from the counter to get the lighter out of the junk drawer, paying attention to the way your body moves. You notice how her eyes follow you, but you don’t call her out on it, knowing you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

“You want a hit?” You lift your eyebrow as you raise the smoke to meet her gaze. A glint of humor is caught on her face, and you smirk.

“Sure... why not.” She says as you join her in leaning up against the counter. You bring the cigarette up to your mouth and click the lighter.

“So,” Agatha starts again, both of you a few puffs in. “How did you end up here with Jane?”

“Uhh... we met senior year of high-school. I was fucked up. Shit grades. Wasn’t going to graduate. Drug money to pay off... no job. Jane used your money to pay off my debt. She found me a job. Tutored me. Like I said, I felt like a charity project. But at least I graduated. We both work now and pay for this place together. Maybe it’s not great but we’re both better off than we were a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t she accept anything I tried to give her? Did she tell you?” Agatha was prying, but you didn’t mind.

“You mean after high-school? She didn’t want any help from you. In her words exactly... ‘She wasn’t there for me for the first 18 years of my life, so why should she help out now...’”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I didn’t grow up poor, Agatha. I grew up with nothing. I would have taken any of your offers in a heartbeat, no matter how guilty they made me feel.”

“Good girl.” She nearly whispers, and you turned to face her, but you couldn’t make anything out of the expression written on her face. Your own skin was hot and something was burning in your core, and you didn’t know what to think.

“I’m sorry... what did you just say?” You watched as she put the cigarette out, now giving you her undivided attention.

“So tell me, honey, do you have a boyfriend? I’m assuming a pretty thing like you would have one. Tell me about him.” Part of you wondered where this conversation was going, but the other part assumed that she already knew which direction you leaned in.

“Uhh... not my type.” You stared at her with curiosity.

“So you got a girlfriend, then?” Her new confidence shocked you a little bit.

“Uhh... no.” You tilted your head, and she seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“Good girl.” Your mouth was dry. “You see, mommy doesn’t want you having a girlfriend... no, she wants you all to herself.”

Your eyes widen in shock, but your core aches and cheeks burn. You stare at the woman next to you as a hand slides onto your thigh.

“Oh come on, darling. You said you wanted a mommy, baby. I wanna take care of you. I see the way you look at me. Don’t deny you want me too.” She spins around and pins you to the counter, and you audibly gulp.

“But- Jane.” You whine, already being driven crazy by the proximity of Agatha’s body.

“Jane is kicking me out, baby girl. And you can come live with me. Mommy has a pretty house, honey. I can feed you, clothe you... make you feel good. I can make you feel special.” And God, your soul was ready to leave your body. You wanted this. You could hardly think as her soft lips grazed over the skin on your neck, and a soft moan escaped your throat. Her tongue and teeth pulled at the skin just below your ear, trying to pull a response out of you.

“Mom!” The both of you jumped at the third voice in the room. The two of you turn to Jane in shock. “What the FUCK are you doing!” She rushed over to the two of you, pulling Agatha off of your body. “You can’t just come into my life and try to fuck my friends after someone rejects you!” She pushes her mom back and turns to you.

“Oh my god, YN, are you ok? I cannot believe that she tried to touch you. God, that makes me sick.” She hugged you, but you still couldn’t say anything.

“Jane, honey, you don’t know-“

“Shut up! I can’t even look at you! Get out of my house, mom. I never want to see you again.” Jane’s face turned red with anger.

“Honey-“ Agatha met eyes with you, but you didn’t know what to do.

“Leave! Now.” She seethed and stomped back to the bedroom, expecting Agatha to be gone when she got back.

The woman in front of you moved silently while you still processed what just happened. When she returned with her belongings, she gave you a note, but headed out without saying a word.

After a few minutes, you finally looked at the piece of paper in hand.

If you ever make up your mind...

1286 Lincoln St NW

(673) 867-5309

-Agatha

-

-

-

“YN, are you sure you’re alright? I really never would have expected my mom to touch you or even make you feel uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” Jane sighed as she sat on the bed.

“I’m fine, J. You don’t have to apologize on her behalf.” You replied, sitting on the chair opposite her.

“I mean what even happened. Why did she do that?”

“Umm... I don’t know. We were just talking and then she started that.”

“What we’re you talking about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining how we met.” You tentatively answered.

“YN you didn’t have to tell her that. I know it’s personal for you, I can’t believe she forced you to talk about it.

“I uhh- actually didn’t mind. I wasn’t forced.”

“Then why would you trust her with something like that? You know how she is.”

“Because...” You thought about your next words carefully. “She cares.” Jane scoffs.

“That must be a different woman we’re talking about, YN. My mom is a selfish bitch who only cares for herself.”

That tipped the iceberg for you.

“You know, Jane? I understand that you and her might never be besties like she wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck her over now that she’s trying.” Your friend looks up at you in shock.

“Well she fucked me over my entire life, so I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“Because! Jane! She’s changed! It’s only right that you give her one more shot in your life!”

She took a pause.

“I’m sorry, YN, are you defending my MOM? After everything she’s done to me, and everything i’ve done for you?!”

“Yes. It is sick watching you throw something away that I can only dream of.” You spat angrily.

“Geez, YN. Just- get out of my fucking house. Keep your rent money for the month. Pack your shit and get the hell out of here.” She nearly ran out of the room.

But you weren’t surprised. In fact, you expected this the moment you chose your side.

-

-

-

The knocks resonate through the large door attached to the even larger house. Agatha has money.

You thought Jane was over exaggerating a little bit, but now you understood that she wasn’t. You sighed as your cab sped away, and now all you could do was wait.

Agatha opened the door, slightly shocked to see you, but nevertheless happy.

“Hey baby, what is it?”

You took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the woman who stood in front of you.

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

-

-

-

link to part 2

[finnyboywolfhard]

Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington. 

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve 

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff 

word count: 2.4k 

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?” She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.

[rachetmath]

Favorite (Characters)

Ruby: *barges in* RatchetMath!

Me: What is it Ruby?

Ruby: You’re showing favoritism.

Me: Okay. And?

Ruby: You need to stop. Why not draw us for once?

Me: Hm, maybe because I like Jaune more. Hell I like Penny and Neo more than you or your team.

Ruby: Why?!

Me: Because your team is horrible.

Ruby: So is team JNPR!

Me: Yeah, but only because they have to follow you. They have some individuality but we don’t explore that as much. Plus, your team would be dead without them. But you know what Ruby, I would rather draw Yang, Blake or any other character except Weiss than you right now.

Ruby: What?! But I’m-

Me: The main character that barely does main character things. Woman, Salem was in Atlas! Why was she not your top priority? Why was James your problem?

Ruby: Um well…

Me: Ruby, she knows your mother! She might know what happened to her! I get Yang was some levels your mom but shouldn’t learning what happened to your actual mom be just as important? Especially after that dark memory.

Ruby: That is true.

Me: You have silver eyes but you still don’t know how to use them. There was army of grimm around Mantle and that would have been good practice. And a better solution than Ren.

Ruby: But then I be overpowered.

Me: No. Ruby your silver eyes only work on one person. If someone sneaks up on you or doesn’t care about that light you give off then, you’re dead. Maria is proof on that.

Ruby: Um..

Me: Plus, the question that everyone in the audience could have an answer to is whether your silver eyes can even work on Salem. In all honesty, it proves the writer don’t keep track of the characters and their personalities to where they fit together in story. You know what I have been making skits, trying to be funny but… the jokes died. Look guys I-I’m sorry but… let me explain.

1. Ruby and Blake should have stayed in Mantle. Why?

1. Salem is the main villian. She knows Ruby’s mother. You know the same mother who left for a mission and didn’t come back. The same mother, who Ruby knows nothing about while everyone seems to have different perspectives of her. Or has a better clue on who she is, than Ruby herself. Plus wasn’t Salem after her too? She basically would be killing two birds with one stone by kidnapping Oscar and giving Ruby a reason to see her. That way Ruby isn’t assuming what happened to her mother. Let Salem antagonize Ruby. (Question: Can silver eyes work on Salem?)

2. Perfect training for silver eyes. Let’s face it, Ren proved to us he can mask a bunch of people without Jaune’s help. All he needed was concentration. However, Ruby is more effective because silver eyes seem to be able to destroy multiple grimm on sight. And with lives on the line that gives Ruby plenty of reason to start using them.

3. Ren calling Ruby out on her issues. Look I loved how Ren was willing to tell the truth, but him revealing Jaune cheated Beacon was… weak. Reason being it relates to Jaune’s character and Ren still follows Jaune’s orders. However, Ruby, who is supposed to be a prodigy because she came to Beacon two years ahead of her class, has not proven once that she is worthy of such praise. The only reason-The ONLY reason Ruby was enrolled into Beacon was her silver eyes. Ruby even in volume one has been nothing but liability. Initiations, she almost dies from a Stinger. Stake out, she almost got run over by a truck and it ended in failure. First mission, she gets kidnapped and almost destroyed a city block. Roman, a man with no semblance or aura continues to beat her four times in a row. And it gets worse. Ruby almost got her uncle killed. She was the first to get knocked out by Emerald. Almost dies by a robot and Godzilla. And the moment she arrived in Atlas her first move was to lie to James. She didn’t even try to stop Tyrian when she saw him. She had her gun with her too. Ren is not her sister, he might as well tell her the facts so she can do better.

4.  Blake is Faunus. Mantle hates faunuses. Why not have Blake help them to prove faunuses are people too? Let Blake represent her people. I mean Velvet and Sun represent faunses more than she does her whole existence. Blake also can relate to Ren’s problem. How? Blake was a part of the White Fang, so there were expectations she had to fulfill. Especially when trying to measure up to Adam. However, she explains the longer she was in the White Fang, the more she found out how messed up and extremely bias it was. Including with Adam to the point she decided to leave. She even states she was lucky that Yang even forgave her after all the trouble she caused her. Blake challenged her bias nature, and it made her stronger for it. Blake would be basically telling Ren the more he tries to live up to someone else’s expectations, without seeing their flaws, the more he loses touch with himself and everyone around him.

5.  Oscar shouldn’t have been able break out of Salem on his own: I’m sorry but… Oscar got beat up. Took a magic beam to the chest. Had to switch between him and Ozpin and mind you he had no aura to help him. He should be tired and unable to move. (In my opinion, this kid was given too much screen time. At first I was worried about him but now I’m wondering why was I worrying at all.)

2. Jaune and Yang should have gone to Atlas.

1. Penny is basically Pyrrha in the opposite light. Penny’s special because she’s a robot with a soul, a mind of her own and an attitude to prove it. She is just as human as everyone else, but no one seems to treat her as such. James only sees her as something of a weapon. Pietro treats her like child even though she’s more mature than the rest of the female cast, except Maria. And now with maiden powers, everyone is out casting Penny even more. Jaune is perfect for her because he has experience with this kind of issue. However, he would’ve had to take different route to the situation considering his failure with Pyrrha last time they had discussion on maiden powers or responsibilities (Destiny.).

2. Jaune already has been a part of maiden business since volume three. His reason to be with Penny would be make sure she doesn’t meet the same fate as Pyrrha or Amber. Not just for himself but for others around him. Especially since Cinder was in Atlas and is willing to hunt her down for the maiden powers. And James was willing to turn Penny into a soulless machine to follow his every command. (Actually, Watts is more a fault considering he hates Pietro.). James and Cinder are also opposite to Jaune in some ways.  James earned his position and earned respect from his military. Jaune on the other hand cheated, and unlike James might not have everybody’s respect. Cinder treats her allies like tools. And with power she just consumes and gives nothing return. Jaune however treats his allies like family. And instead of just taking power he gives power to others around him. He’s the reason Cinder has maiden powers. So, him making it his personal mission to make sure Cinder doesn’t get more power only increases his resolve to protect Penny. (Especially since he already had to kill her in the canon finale.)  In other words, James and Cinder purposed a challenge to Jaune. Can he pervert history from repeating itself? Can he really protect the maiden powers? Is he truly worthy of being a huntsman? What is he willing to risk in achieving his goal? (Also let’s be clear. Hazel beat Oscar down for the password to the relic. James shot the kid and was willing to let him fall to his death. Qrow intentionally punched the kid.  I don’t care if it was for Ozpin, he still punched Oscar. Lion before even knowing Oscar was Ozpin reincarnation was already about kill him anyways. All Jaune did was push him to a wall. Yes, Jaune still would have hurt Oscar, but he didn’t. He walked away.)  

3.  A lot of the situations could’ve been avoided or mattered if Jaune was there. Don’t believe me? Well let me explain. Was Ruby the only option when sneaking pass Central Command? No, because they had Weiss, Nora and Penny. Weiss could have done a freezer burn like in her fight with Marrow. Or Nora could have thrown her grenades and Penny just shoots them before the hit the ground or damage anything. Both causing a smoke screen, so no one sees them. Plus, they were already caught by using Pietro credentials. Did Nora need to get knocked out for the team to escape? No. If she had Jaune with her they could’ve one caused an EMP wave being Jaune has gravity and Nora has lightning. Or two, if Nora still went through with it, Jaune would have healed her immediately. Penny lifting and keeping the arena in place. If Jaune and Weiss were with her then once Amity was in position, Weiss with Jaune’s assistances can keep it place so Penny can come back inside and the whole video could be played. Also, Pietro would know what was going on with his daughter and can properly explain how to fix her. (Better than Jaune healing her.)

4. Nora’s whole character is knowing who she is without Ren right? Then why not just have her lead the evacuation once she’s done with Atlas? Why not have her and Yang work together along with the happy huntress to evacuate Mantle? Especially if their friends disappeared to save Oscar. (And before ya’ll tell me they can’t do it….. Yang, blocked a punch from a mech, held off a Manticore, and has a semblance that literally lets her take damage and dish it back five times harder. Nora who literally crushed Weiss and Yang in a food fight. Knocked a giant horse down on its knee. And knocked Hazel away.  Are you seriously saying these girls are not enough to take on a few little tigers? Come on!) If the whole point of Nora’s character development was finding out more about herself then let Nora try something without Ren. Let her call the shots. Let her take charge. Give her a character. (Hell don’t stop there. Have her interact with other characters. Like Jaune. Yang. Weiss. Or anyone other character than Ren. Let them tell her what they think about her. Let Nora be a solution to a character’s struggle. Ya’ll make it sound like Nora has no friends.)

5. All Yang needed was a break from Ruby and Blake. In all honesty Yang should have been the one to see the hounds face and kill it. Why? Well Ruby is Yang’s sister and only reminder of her nonblood related mother. And Blake is her girlfriend. And if we saw the hound’s face, we know it’s not just a silver eyed person. It’s also a faunus. This will give her a reason to protect both her loved ones because by seeing the hound she knows Salem intention with Ruby and want to keep her, and Blake from meeting the same fate of being turned into monsters. Yang should’ve been the 2nd to 4th member of team RWBY to fall. Why? One, a Yang vs Neo fight. Two, Cinder and Neo both wanted Ruby dead. So why not get rid of Ruby first? The fights would have been more thrilling and seeing the character, the show is named after, presumed to be dead would have added stakes and tension to the fight. (Also let me say this. Why is it, that the only great display of the maiden powers I’ve ever seen, was from Amber and not the maidens, as of now, Winter, Raven, and Cinder? The maiden powers are basically magic right? Why isn’t Cinder using any other element than fire?)

6. Weiss was completely useless. Look, as the saying goes, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.” And when it came to Weiss and family, she has little to no clue of what it is nor deserves it. Weiss should have been more of an inspiration for Whitley to do right. How? By simply talking to him. What reason would she have other than Mantle? Simple, he’s her brother and she started off like him. Beacon, she was a brat. She was arrogant. And more importantly a jerk. Blake ran because of her racist attitude. Ruby literally had to impress her to prove she can be leader. Even though Weiss is not leadership martial herself.  Plus, hearing May and how she and her family never resolved their issues should inspire Weiss to not repeat that mistake. And guess what, her mom, Willow, the drinker of the family, wasn’t wrong. Both her and Winter left Whitley alone. Klein wasn’t there for him either. All Whitley had was his father. So Weiss, actually acting like his sister and trying to help him allows him to feel less alone. Instead Weiss was complete Jacque through out the entire volume.  

And that’s all.  Look I know I should have seen this coming but I had to say it.  Volume 8 could’ve been good. The problem was.

1.       Characters are not placed well within the story.

2.       We lost track of who said characters are.

3.       The ships are in the way.

4.       Being dumb for the plot. (Sometimes it’s necessary.)

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza 

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Schlatt.” 

“Yes.” 

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy- 

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

Part One

Luke Patterson x Fem!reader

Summary: All you wanted was to play the biggest gig of your life with your best friends, but you just might get more than you bargained for.

Warnings: death and some swearing (I don’t think there is anything else but if there is, let me know!)

…

May 1994

“Shit.”

You whispered to yourself as you stared at the old clock on the diner’s wall.

It had only been half an hour since your shift started, but you were already anxious for it to be over.

Cece’s diner was normally one of your favorite places in the world. It was a small, poorly lit building in a boring part of L.A. It didn’t see much business since it wasn’t easy to find. But the air always smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon.

You loved working there, but it was not where you wanted to be right now.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” A voice asked from behind the counter. You turned to see your boss Cece, a petite middle-aged woman who was eyeing the dirty table in front of you that you were supposed to be cleaning.

“Yeah, sorry. My mind is somewhere else.” You admitted, throwing the empty plates in the tray and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cece shook her head and let out a laugh as she followed. “On a certain guitarist, perhaps?”

Your cheeks flushed and Cece laughed again, grabbing the rag off her shoulder and smacking it against your arm lightly.

She was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Luke Patterson. One of your best friends, childhood crush, and most recently, your bandmate.

“And for your information, I’m thinking about all of the band because we’re practicing tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Cece hummed, a sly smile on her face.

She always pretended to be annoyed with your ramblings since you joined sunset curve, saying that a sixteen-year-old girl had no business being in a rock band. But you had caught her bragging about you to the few regulars you had multiple times.

She had a son living a few states away, but they weren’t close. So she treated you like her daughter. Which meant she wasn't the biggest fan of you constantly hanging around a bunch of teenage boys. But eventually, she warmed up to them. Especially Alex;  he was her favorite.

Luke, on the other hand, annoyed her to no end.

You ran the dishes under hot water and pressed a kiss to Cece’s cheek as you walked past her and back into the main room.

“Besides, Luke doesn’t like me like that.”

Cece rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the shrill ring of the phone cut her off. You let out a sigh, grateful for the distraction. She meant well, but when it came to your situation with Luke, you were more than happy to live in denial and ignoring it altogether.

He was your best friend. That’s all that mattered right now.

You shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed the phone’s receiver. “Cece’s Diner. How can I help you?”

“How much do you love me?”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart raced at the sound of Luke’s voice rang through your ears. His choice of words definitely not helping to calm you down. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself.

“Luke?” You asked which prompted Cece to raise an eyebrow from the other side of the room.

“Hey. I’m sorry for calling you at work but I can’t finish this song and it’s driving me nuts. I need you and your genius brain to come help me.”

Despite your protests, the tap dance in your chest continued. It was ridiculous that after knowing Luke all your life, you were still shocked when he complimented you like that.

“I don’t get off until six, but I’ll come after.” You said, trying not to smile when you heard him cheer in victory. “And before Reggie asks, yes, I’ll bring coffee.”

Luke laughed before singing into the phone. “Get me a large with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“I hate you.” You sang back, making a mental note to wipe off the smirk you could practically hear in his voice before the line went dead. You sighed as you put the phone back on the hook, holding a finger out to Cece.

“Not a word.”

A few hours later, you walked into Bobby’s garage, carrying a cardboard tray in each arm.

You sighed as you looked around the room. Every surface was covered in discarded paper balls and empty fast-food wrappers. You had expected to hear some form of music or at least some talking but the room was dead silent.

In the center of the mess, Alex and Reggie sat on the floor. Alex was trying to balance his drumsticks on his nose, and Reggie was mindlessly strumming his bass. Luke was sitting back on the couch, his eyebrows tightly knitted together as he frantically scribbled into his notebook.

“Your savior is here, and I come bearing coffee.”

All three heads whipped in your direction and within seconds, Reggie was excitedly bouncing his way towards you. He reached out to swipe a cup from the tray in your left hand. You swatted his arm away.

"Not that one. That’s Al’s.”

You set the rest of the drinks on the table in front of you and walked up to Alex. You handed him the cup and he gave you an appreciative smile. You always made sure to get him hot chocolate or tea, since you learned the hard way that caffeine can sometimes make his anxiety worse. He told you he didn’t want to admit that to the guys. So you were happy covering for him.

“Why does he get his own special one?” Reggie pouted as he grabbed another cup and strolled over to Luke, plopping down next to him on the couch. “And why is she the only one who can call you ‘Al’?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” You said, poking Reggie’s cheek as you passed him and took the other seat on the couch next to Luke. Alex just nodded, trying to hold back a smile.

“I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.” Luke said, looking up from his songbook for the first time since you got there.

“Cece knew it was important band stuff so she let me off early.” You shrugged.

“Oh no, she’s not mad at me, is she?” Luke shivered, thinking of all the times Cece had chewed him out for being a ‘bad influence’ on you or made him wipe down some tables for accidentally making you late for a shift. “You know I can’t stand when that woman is mad at me.”

“I also know that all you have to do is give her your little puppy-dog look and she’ll instantly forgive you.”

“Yeah, you guys are alike that way.” Luke teased, sticking his bottom lip out and batting his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?” You said as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He grinned and started translating his messy handwriting for all of you.

The four of you sat there for an hour putting all the words in the right places and by the time Bobby got there, you all felt confident that it was finally finished. You took your place behind your microphone and nodded.

“Okay, Al. Count us down.”

Alex twirled his drumsticks. “1…2…3…4!”

June, 1995

“Don’t look down.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you sang the song you had written a year ago. Your feet bouncing on the stage, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

To your left, Luke raised his arms, trying to hype up the non-existent crowd. Alex clashed his drumsticks together to the beat as all your voices came together.

“Cause we’re still rising up right now.”

You clapped along to the song, the energy coursing through your veins. Luke was in the middle of throwing his guitar behind his back. You rolled your eyes at him and he flashed you a small bashful smile before turning his head.

Your heart fluttered but you forced yourself to turn the other way, singing with Reggie just as the song transferred out of the bridge. The fog machines cued the ending chorus and you gripped your microphone with both hands.

“And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly.

Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.

But living like it’s now or never.“

The other boy's voices dropped out until it was just you and Luke singing the chorus. You looked over at him, but his eyes were glued to the front of the room. Normally, you would share a mic for this part or at least stand close together, but he seemed determined to avoid you.

Just like he had been for the last six months.

You ignored the gaping pit in your stomach and poured all your focus into the song.

“Like it’s now or never!

It’s now or never!“

The final riff sounded and you let out an exhausted but proud sigh. There were a few scattered claps from the staff in the venue. But a curly-haired girl behind the counter was cheering especially loud. Reggie winked at her and leaned into his mic.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled his arm, dragging him to the center of the stage. Alex came from his drum set and you gave him a high five.

“Al, you were amazing!”

“Yeah, dude, you were smoking.” Reggie agreed.

Alex blushed. “Nah, man. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Can you just own your awesomeness for once?”

Bobby and Luke nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrows at Alex, nudging him until he finally smiled. “Okay, I was killing it!”

“I’m thinking we should fuel up before the show. Street dogs?” Luke asked. Alex and Reggie hummed in agreement but you wrinkled your nose.

“I think I’m gonna pass.” You said, jumping off the stage. It wasn’t that you had anything against street dogs, but as far as pre-gig activities go, it didn’t make your top ten list. 

Bobby landed next to you and started jogging towards the counter. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and approached the girl wiping tables.

“Oh no.” You said. “Bobby, leave that poor girl alone.”

Bobby turned around just enough to give you a glare as you both reached the counter. The rest of the boys weren’t far behind. You felt Luke slip behind you and throw an arm on Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby told the girl some line about being a vegetarian. But she shook it off, looking over all of you.

“You guys are really good.”

You smiled proudly. “Thank you.”

She returned your smile. “I’ve seen a lot of bands. Even been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”

Luke was practically beaming. The whole band contributed with the songs, of course, but you and Luke were the main writers, so it was always nice to hear people compliment your words. “That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hey, I’m Reggie.”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.”

“And I’m (Y/n).”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Rose.” She said, turning to you. “You have a great voice, by the way. It’s always cool to see a girl lead vocalist.”

Bobby snorted. You elbowed him and Luke gave him a wet-willy. “Oh, thank you. But I’m just co-lead.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but Reggie reached in his back pocket and pulled out a C.D and a t-shirt, handing them to her. “Here’s our demo, and a T-shirt, size beautiful.”

As if on cue, you and Alex rolled your eyes. You sent Rose an apologetic look as she held the shirt up to her body.

“Thanks, I’ll try not to wipe down the tables with this one.”

Alex nodded. “Good call! When they get wet, they kind of fall apart in your hands.”

Bobby glared at all of you. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”

Luke pushed Bobby back and leaned on the counter with both arms. “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.”

The boys started going towards the exit but stopped when Alex noticed you hesitating. “You coming?”

You really didn’t want hotdogs, but you also didn’t want to stay and listen to Bobby attempt to flirt with Rose. So you nodded and followed Alex to the door.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Rose called out and you turned around. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave her a warm smile before walking out into the alley. The night air hit your skin and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely a change from the sweaty stage. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke whooped as he jumped through the doors and into the alleyway.

Alex gestured around, wrinkling his nose. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”

Luke shoved his shoulder. “No.”

You jumped out of the way as Luke splashed in a puddle. “It’s what that girl said in there. About our music.”

His eyes flickered to you when he said ‘our’ but quickly looked away. It was practically the first time he had acknowledged your presence all night.

“It connects us with people, you know? They can feel us when we play.” He said excitedly, slowing his walking until the rest of you caught up with him.

He reached each arm up and pulled Reggie to his side with one arm and despite being right next to you, he pulled Alex to his other side. You turned your head forward to hide the confused look on your face but you knew Alex saw it.

Other than Cece, he was the only person who knew about your feelings for Luke. You could tell from the look on his face that he was just as confused with Luke’s recent behavior as you were, but he didn’t say anything.

“I want that connection with everybody.”

“Then we’re gonna need more T-shirts.” You heard Reggie say as you reached the end of the alley. You pulled up the hood of your jacket and turned your head away from the line in front of the venue.

You didn't mean to walk so fast, but you were the first one at the alleyway a few blocks away from the Orpheum. You made your hotdog and made small talk with the vendor for a few minutes before the guys caught up.

“You trying to ditch us, (Y/n)?” Reggie asked, putting ingredients on his hotdog.

“Not my fault you guys are slow.” You stuck your tongue at him and he squinted at you. Alex groaned. You looked over at him to see him trying to put a pickle on his tray.

“Man, I can’t wait until the day we can eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”

As he apologized to the vendor for getting pickle juice on his battery cables, you, Luke, and Reggie made your way to one of the old couches. They both sat down, leaving one open space next to Luke.

You made a point of sitting on the arm of the couch, letting your feet dangle on the seat. If Luke was going to avoid you, then you were going to avoid him right back. You also avoided the questioning look Reggie gave you before Alex sat down.

Luke didn’t seem to notice. He was bouncing his leg and couldn’t seem to stop smiling, it was obvious that he was still buzzing with energy from the soundcheck.

“This is awesome, you guys.” He said as he made himself comfortable between Reggie and Alex. “We’re playing the Orpheum! Do you know how many bands that played here ended up being huge?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled while the boys chuckled. You were all used to seeing the intense side of Luke, but he had been an even bigger ball of excited energy ever since you booked the Orpheum gig. It could be a little much for the guys sometimes, but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music never failed to make you smile.

“I’m serious.” Luke insisted as he leaned forward and raised his hotdog in a toast. “Eat up, guys. Because after tonight, everything changes.”

You all toasted and then started to eat. Usually, street dogs weren’t half bad. But this time there was a burnt, nasty flavor that made it hard to swallow. Alex saw your face and nodded in agreement.

Even Luke, who had a super-human stomach, made a face. But his hunger must’ve won out cause he took another big bite.

“That’s a new flavor.” Alex said with his mouth full.

“Relax, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie told him as he took another bite. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent confident about it but you shrugged and kept eating.

It all happened so fast.

At first, it felt like you were dreaming. Like maybe you had just fallen asleep and would eventually wake up and realize that everything was just a nightmare.

But then the outline of Los Angeles floated away in a haze of grey and you were left in the dark. There was nothing but silence until you heard a voice somewhere in front of you.

It was the sound of Alex’s frantic ranting.

You could feel Reggie and Luke next to you, but they didn’t say anything. You didn’t either.

But you didn’t really need to. It was glaringly obvious what happened, you could feel it in your bones.

You were dead.

Alex’s ranting slowly turned into crying, which made you cry. Luke heard your quiet sniffles and for the first time in months, he touched you.

He reached out and intertwined your fingers loosely in his, gently swiping his thumb across your knuckles. You closed your eyes, trying to soak up the feeling. This was the closest to him you had been in since that night in the studio.

It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time, it was all too familiar. You knew that if you stayed in this moment with him any longer, you would fall apart completely.

So you turned away from him and buried your head in Alex’s shoulder. It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken and the opening of Now or Never filled the air.

“Is that…?” You started, but before you could finish, the floor disappeared from under you.

You hit the ground with a painful groan and blinked at the sudden flood of bright light. You felt movement next to you and saw Reggie struggling to get up.

You hauled yourself up and turned around to realize you were back in Bobby’s garage. It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it. There was a new grand piano and flowers on every table. The room was free of any trash or discarded flannels.

But the biggest change by far, was the girl standing in front of you.

She was about your age with brown hair tied in a ponytail, in a bright yellow shirt, and furry slippers. She was staring at the four of you with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face.

“How did we get back here?” Luke said as he scanned the studio.

The girl screamed, which made the boys scream and cling to each other. Reggie threw himself against Luke and pulled you behind him.

They all screamed for a few more seconds before the girl ran out of the garage doors. You cautiously walked out from behind Reggie and towards the middle of the room, spinning in a full circle.

The boys started talking but you were still mesmerized by all the changes made to the studio.

You looked up towards the ceiling and saw that there were chairs hanging by the loft and countless tiny plants by the windows but you could still see the nail polish-stain you had made on the carpet and the dents in the beams from all the times Luke had messed up his guitar throw.

Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.

Well, two things were for sure.

You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.

[everythingthemoontouches]

Congratulations on 1024 followers. I can tell your sincere about what you do and how you feel about this blog, you really deserve it!

If not sure if this is a valid question worth answering but I recently bought my first tarot deck (like Monday or Sunday) I have not gotten the chance to properly cleanse or charge it with crystals or through smoke but I have used different methods like meditations, cleansing frequency’s, the blowing and knocking method etc and occasionally setting them down to get some sunlight (I also slept with them under my pillow one night and have been shuffling for practice whenever I have the time to do so)

Today I decided to do a 4 card spread in order to connect with my spirit guides (I did do a short cleansing frequency meditation beforehand) and I’m not sure whether or not I actually connected with them. I do believe that I did a good job at the whole process though and I feel rewarded but I’m still not sure so if you could pitch in however you want that would be nice and I would appreciate it! I guess my question is “what do my guides think” or maybe “Did I receive the right message” “am I on a good regarding tarot)

If you think I should get an intuitive reading or maybe go to someone else, you can just not respond (I am a little bit embarrassed💀) Thank you-jsm🐰👒🍀

Hey there sister 😊

Welcome to the tarot ride ⛵we love it here 💖 firstly, congratulations on your first deck. mine will always be special to me because it lead me here to this community where I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile and helping people out in a way I would have loved to seek guidance when I was younger.

Now for your question about thr cleansing technique - frequency meditations are my favorite way to get the right vibe. I usually feel it in my gut - saying play heart Chakra meditation for this particular reading or some such.

Divination, I believe is a very personal practice and so are intuitive gifts. The exact methodology may vary person to person. Did your cards come pre loved ?

Even if they are the sun is a powerful anti bacterial and has the ability to prevent many diseases in human beings. I don't see why letting it charge under the sun should not get rid of any lingering negative energies if there were any to begin with. The other methods you've described seem more than sufficient.

It's the intention and integrity with which you follow them that counts. I would suggest trying to maintain cleanliness in the area where you do your readings. Personally I know I've become a lot more sloppy than iw as a year ago and I try really hard to keep my surroundings clean.

You mention the sun so I feel that you could be more of a fire based energy. However, are you sure direct sunlight is not bad for the cards laminate? I live in the tropics and leaving things out in the sun can really make the color fade over time.

Tapping the cards on wood seems good enough. The more respectfully you treat your cards the better connection you'd build.

Have you tried a deck interview yet? Those are always so fun way to do and a good way to bond with your deck. These are some I personally used :

1. I said hello and asked the deck to introduce their main energy.

2. I asked how they would wanna work with / through me

3. When I started my insta page I asked my deck who they wanna help through me. I got the 3 of hearts. I knew I needed to be compassionate and talk about pain instead of faking optimism.

4.i asked my deck how they saw me.

5. What kind of approach do your cards have to this relationship between cards and reader?

I used to follow the gem goddess on YouTube and she spoke about just taking a couple of minutes to go through all thr cards and intuitively see what each card means to you before trying to memorize the meanings. Sometimes, memory can gatekeep your intuition. If you're lead by emotion, and how you feel that's probably not soemthing you'd want I guess. If you're more logically inclined there's always lenormand.

Your Spirit guides are your allies. Twhure your people and they chose the role. If you choose to open up a dialogue they will show up. You're obviously not gonna hear it like in the movies at first (OK, maybe you could if the gift is that strong.) - it could be more feeling based. Or knowing based. Like a sleepy thought. If you felt connected, then you probably did. There are no grades here. It's between you and your team.

Googling the signs, symbolism, environments could be a good way to help decipher the message of you felt like everything was random.

There's this theory that the setting in which you met / experienced them in could be related to your Ketu(north node) Nakshatra

As for your conversation with your guides and the ievrall feel, I drew the High priestess. She is revered for her wisdom, practicality and intuitive abilities. You're on a good path

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[kavikaslana]

Can I please request for LoV content though this time the reader isn’t anyone’s s/o per say, just like everyone’s mama in a sense, always being the one who care for them and give them love, big spooning, cuddle, help them with various stuff. And because they are ‘LoV mama’ they are quiet dominant and everyone listens to them and respect them. Can I get headcannons for LoV interactions with her? And if possible for another post a sequel of how they will react when they found out that she has a lover who basically babies her and she likes it too. How will they react? Will they treat her differently? Jealous? Thank you so much!!!!! 💕💕💕💕

Awwwww 🥺 just let me know if you want me to tag you whenever I do the other post ❤️ it got really laggy before I could add more so… :’)

Just some small stuff, I’ll do like one shots and the other thing in another post or two if you want me to tag you or somethin lol

Part 2

Kurogiri

Lemme tell you right now, he is absolutely relieved because now he’s got someone else to “babysit” the league

He finally feels comfortable enough to have a day just to himself

^ He’s just happy he doesn’t have to constantly worry about Dabi burning down their base, or Shigaraki turning Toga to dust

He’s kind of like a kid in a way

^ Like he’s looking for praise in a way, but not really

Encourage him when he’s doing a good job

Let him vent when a certain brat pisses him off

And PLEASE help him discipline said brat

^ He will literally beg you, just do it please

He definitely appreciates you the most out of everyone

He likes getting a pat on the back when he’s doing a good job, or even just having a drink with you when “handjob” is finally asleep I had to I’m sorry I love that nickname so much

You’ve got either really insulting nicknames or really sweet ones for everyone in the league, but you guys only use them when it’s just you two

You guys randomly get Magne pride stuff, like the transgender flag or those pins you find everywhere during pride month

^ Sometimes Toga too

^ And you if you’re part of it, but he goes without you if it’s for you, because then it wouldn’t be a surprise

He likes head pats but that’s all he’s comfortable with

Shigaraki

Ok, he’s definitely a bitch to you too

^ at first at least

In general, he didn’t really like people and his tolerance for everyone was pretty low for a long time

The only people he interacted with were the same few people, and they basically spoiled and groomed him, so it takes him the longest to warm up to you

He doesn’t like being told no, so expect him to act like a toddler when you tell him he can’t do something

He does kind of like having another decent parental figure even though in his head afo’s a good dad

He might invite you to go with him to GameStop or something like that

^ Or maybe just to grab a quick snack from a ramen shop or something along the lines of that

He’s somewhere between a moody teenager and a four year old, just remember that

Please don’t get mad at him, he feels bad after an hour or two

^ Kurogiri has to make him apologize for whatever he did though because he’s too stubborn to do it himself

He lets you pick out one of his good controllers and headsets so you can play with him in your own room, or with him, he doesn’t mind

Once he’s fully comfortable with you, he’s clingy as hell

Always asks for hugs or head scratches, most likely both

He tries his best not to snap at you like he does with everyone else, and he probably has the most patience with you

He doesn’t really cuddle with you since it’d be a little weird if you guys aren’t dating, but he does hug you from behind every once in a while

Likes to be close to you in general

He likes when you take care of his scars and wounds for him, or when you get him to stop scratching his neck

^ Cause it shows you care, and he doesn’t really think anyone really does except for Kurogiri and AFO

Probably the touchiest one

Expect to be giving him some form of attention every second, whether it’s talking to him or just holding his wrist

Probably the one that enforces your rules honestly (if you have any)

Basically he’s a simp, but like the platonic kind of simp

Dabi

Dabi’s a bit like Shigaraki

It does take him a bit to open up, but only about half the amount of time it takes Shigaraki to

He does feel bad when you get mad, and it takes him about the same amount of time to feel guilty

He definitely invites you to go places with him, but it’s usually a bar or a good spot to commit arson

He’s basically a moody teenager, that’s it, so he’s at least manageable

Sometimes he goes with you to get snacks or drinks (soft drinks basically), but if he does, expect to be the one paying

Might give you a cigarette every once in a while if you smoke, and he always offers to light it for you

He definitely likes to vent to you about his day, or how Shigaraki’s been bugging him more than usual

^ It’s mainly because you’re the only one that listens though mainly

^ He still appreciates it though, don’t get it wrong

One of his favorite pastimes is to walk around the city at night with you and maybe Kurogiri

He’s not very touchy in general, so don’t expect anything more than a pat on the back

Sometimes though, if you want a hug or something he’ll let you get one from him

He’s still not touchy at all, so don’t ask for very much

^ Lemme put it this way, expect more from pretty much everyone else except him

Spinner

He always runs to you about Dabi picking on him for his quirk when Kurogiri’s not around

Sometimes he asks you to play a game with him, but not very often

^ Even Shigaraki probably asks more than Spinner does

He’s pretty quiet with you most of the time, and he won’t usually talk to you unless you start a conversation

^ Basically he only talks to you when he needs to

He’s not exactly the kind of guy that’ll go out for food with you since his quirk makes him pretty easy to spot, but he does offer to help cook every once in a while

He likes to show you his collection of knockoff stain clothing

He has made efforts to try to get to know you more, but he’s a little shy

Get him Stain merch and you’ll automatically be his favorite out of everyone in the league

^ Shigaraki might kill you though, just a heads up

Don’t touch him unless you’re treating his wounds, he’s worse than Dabi is

Magne

She loves going out with you and Toga

^ Could be for food, or maybe clothes shopping, hell, even just a walk

^ She just likes spending time with you, but yes, it is preferred if Toga and Twice could come along

She’s gotta be the sweetest person out of the whole league

She’s probably called you her sibling a few times just so you know her opinion on you

You’ve got at least a few matching shirts and jackets with her and Toga

She probably offers to help you around the base more than anyone (except kurogiri)

You’re definitely in the top 3 favorites

She likes to do skincare routines with Toga, Twice, and you

Definitely paints her nails and asks you how it looks first

She’s totally onboard with you sitting in her lap, but it’s just for hugs, don’t get it mixed up

She’s probably one of the touchiest people out of the league

^ Not nearly as much as Shig, but she’s probably third

Toga

You’re a sibling too, 100%

She asks you to sharpen and clean her knives daily, but she always repays the favor by helping you cook or by cleaning 2-3 rooms

She’s given you one of her favorite knives to keep for your birthday, or just any special event of yours

She always asks you to put her hair up for her, and if your hair is long enough, she asks if she can do your hair

She’s really picky about anything she gets you, and she always pays attention to the smallest details in everything she gives you

She’s given you quite a lot of jewelry she stole from corpses, whether you wear it or not

^ You can sell it too, and she’s fine with it, just tell her thank you first though

She always wants to watch you cook and she’s even tried to make your favorite food once or twice with Kurogiri and Magne

She asks you to paint her nails for her, even if you’re not good at it, since one hand always turns out better than the other

Face masks and cleansers are a must, she prefers if you do more skincare stuff with her, but that’s the bare minimum

Definitely has a picture of you, Magne, her, and Twice as the wallpaper on her phone

She’s somewhat touchy, she’s all for hugs and maybe hand holding every once in a while

^ That’s it though

Twice

He likes to smoke with you (if you do)

^ If you don’t, he still likes to talk to you when he does

He’s really interested in your hobbies and what you like to do

He’s comfortable with taking off his mask fully when it’s just you two and no one else

He thinks your laugh is cute in the same way a puppy’s cute

He likes being cared for by you, and you’re always going to be in his top 3

His all-time favorite thing about you is just the simple fact that you accept him for who he is, flaws and all

He comes to you for head pats at least four times a day, and he likes holding your hand because it makes him feel safe and secure

He loves how gentle you are with him, and how you try your best to understand him

^ He does feel extremely bad when he involuntarily insults you

^ Tell him you know he didn’t mean it and that you still like him please

He loves cuddles, but only when he’s tired

^ It’s usually just him laying his head on your shoulder though

Again, having you around in general makes him feel safe

So after a long day of fighting heroes, he just wants to sit with you until he falls asleep

Compress

He basically the only other person besides Kurogiri that doesn’t have the mindset of a 15 year old or younger

It’s nice that he’s got someone other than Kurogiri to talk to now

He offers to help with chores the most

Likes to entertain you with magic tricks, and he always shows you his newest tricks first

^ Please tell him he did a good job and that it was convincing

He knows a good deal about you, like your favorite food and your favorite spot in the city

Sometimes he goes on walks with you when the tension after a mission dies down

He takes you out for food once or twice a week, and for a snack run every other week

^ He always gets a lot of stuff though, so it’s ok

He’s always the first to notice anything about you, like a new haircut or a new shirt

^ He’s always the first to compliment you on it too

On a scale of 1-10, he’s probably a 3 as far as being touchy goes

He appreciates praise and maybe pats on the back, but he doesn’t really care much about themselves

He doesn’t really actively seek your attention like Shigaraki does, but he doesn’t complain when he gets it

[smiledotdeer]

And now, a compilation of the headcanons Cal shared with his audience last night!

1. "I was born and raised in a place called Cut Off. About a day's walk south of New Orleans, in Bayou Lafourche. Last I heard it had a little over five thousand people living there nowadays. Not too shabby I'd say!" 2. "One of my toys as a child was a slingshot. I became fairly decent at shooting from the metaphorical hip." 3. "I nursed a baby alligator back to health while I was still living in the bayou. Sometimes I wonder if she's still alive. They grow to be quite old, you know!" 4. "I never learned how to drive. I never needed to. I walked, or I was driven by someone else." 5. "I didn't practice vodou for very long before I died; only about five or six years. Most of what I know about it now was learned due to my continuing to research and study it after I came down here, along with a few extra things." 6. "I can shapeshift, but not in what one might consider the typical manner. I can't just snap my fingers and turn into whatever or whoever I wish. I have to study the anatomy of what or who I wish to turn into, memorize it, try it on for size, make mistakes, and make the tweaks necessary to perfect it. Right now, the only forms I know how to take on in their entirety, are myself, and that of a typical stag." 7. "I don't mind television. I enjoy films from time to time. I simply don't keep a television in my personal spaces, for personal reasons." 8. "I enjoy smoking from time to time, but my voice remains completely clear and unaffected. This is because I transfer the damage to Travis every time!" 9. "I don't like Catahoulas. They're the reason I was caught and shot." 10. "I own a mimic! It can turn into anything I ask, but most of the time I keep it as a mobile chest. A mobile, mostly fleshy, slight fuzzy, adorable little chest. With legs. And teeth. And a tongue. And a bottomless stomach for holding things. And food. It eats meat. Filet mignon is its favorite. I named it Chester." 11. "I also have a cat. His name is Churchill, but I just call him Church. He stinks. Badly. But no matter how I brush or bathe him it doesn't go away. Pretty sure he's got twisted bones, too. He doesn't feel right when I hold him. I love him to bits, though." 12. "I have a St. Bernard named Cujo. He doesn't smell good, either. And I think he's rabid? Or he just drools way more than he should. I dunno. I love him, too." 13. "I have a mouse. Mister Jingles. He likes rolling my spools around on the floor. I've lost a few because of him. I don't mind, though. As long as he's having fun." 14. "...I'm really tired. I might nap after this. ...huh? It's only four-thirty? Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" That's. Not a fact, Al. 15. "I think it's a shame that people who like pumpkin spice are made fun of for liking pumpkin spice. Let people enjoy their fall treats in peace, dagnabbit!" 16. "My glasses are indeed prescription. I'm not completely blind without them, but I'm pretty dang close to it." 17. "Ribeye is my favorite cut of beef." 18. "Boudin is what I believe I make best." 19. "I have a coffee press in every room of my home." 20. "I was almost married once, back when I was alive." 21. "I have special pads on the bottom of my hooves that keep me from slipping and sliding on the wooden floors of my house." 22. "I served in the first World War. It's where I first got introduced to radio." 23. "I can play the piano, violin, organ, and harpsichord. I'd like to learn how to play the guitar someday." 24. "My house isn't really my house. I stole it from the living world after its owner died and teleported it down here during a visit topside back in the sixties." 25. "I've—got a lotta spell books. Wowza." 26. "I like the color green. It's soothing. Makes me think of plants. I like plants." Sniffle. "I wish they didn't die when I touch 'em." 27. "I'm lonely." 28. "Is—is anyone even listening? Or am I talking to myself? —who am I kidding. Nobody listens to the radio anymore. Not here. Not in my Hell. I'm—...I think I'm done."

[americasass91]

Healing Ransom

Hello beautiful people!! This will be my first (I’m sure of many) submissions for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ amazing Autumn Challenge! Fall is my favorite time of the year! It’s got beautiful colors! Pumpkin everything! And Halloween? You just can’t beat it! I hope you enjoy this little story. It stars our one and only Mean Sweater Murder Daddy, Ransom!

Verbal Prompts:

“Please don’t be sad for me.”

“Shove it, satan.”

Location/activity prompts:

Walking through a park with leaves

Jumping in/raking leaves

Words: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit(of course it is😋)

Warnings: smut, Ransom being his usual dickish self, slight angst, death of minor character, funerals, sadness, language

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You had only been asleep for about an hour and a half when you were abruptly woken up by a cell phone vibrating loudly.

You open one eye and look towards the nightstand your phone is on. It’s silent. That means it’s his phone.

You smack your fuck buddy on the back of the head. “Ow, Y/N what the actual fuck?”

You turn over and pull the covers higher up on your naked body. “Your phone’s ringing asshole.”

He mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch as he reaches for his phone. “It’s Linda. Ugh she’s probably drunk again and calling to tell me how worthless I am. Fuck her.”

He throws the phone down on the bed and gets comfortable. “And why are you still here? You know how I feel about you spending the night.”

You raise your hand and flip him off. “You’re the one that fucked me into submission. I can’t help it that I fell asleep right after. Don’t worry, your highness, I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”

He’s about to reply when his phone starts vibrating right against your ass. You shriek and sit up and grab the phone.

Before Ransom even comprehends that you have it, you answer.

“Hello, Linda. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to Ransom please.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

You hand the phone to Ransom who looks at you incredulously. “Just take it. She sounds upset.”

He just rolls his eyes and snatches the phone from you. “Mother, why in the fuck are you calling me at 3 in the morning?”

You’re not entirely sure what she’s saying but Ransom went from being annoyed to showing no emotion on his face.

“When?...Who found him?...Okay..well, thanks for letting me know.” He hangs up and throws the phone back onto the nightstand.

He’s silent for a few minutes. He looks over at your questioning stare.

“My father died. Heart attack. His maid found him. Guess he’d been there for awhile.”

You immediately go to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Ransom. I’m so sorry.”

He pushes you away. “Please don’t be sad for me. He was a piece of shit who smoked like a chimney and never took care of himself. It was just a matter of time before something liked this happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “But he was your dad, Ransom. It’s okay to be sad about it.” You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

He grabs your hand and yanks you onto his lap. “I’m not sad. I don’t actually feel anything. It’s not like we had any kind of a relationship. Now how about since we’re both awake we go for round 5?”

You just roll your eyes and let him take your body to euphoria once more.

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That following Saturday you wake up to the sight of beautiful changing leaves. God you love Fall. It was the best time of the year in your opinion. Pumpkin everything? Yes please! Halloween? Oh, fuck yeah! Your favorite holiday.

You decide you can’t let this beauty go to waste. You throw back the covers and quickly dress in some leggings and a burgundy sweater you’re pretty sure belongs to Ransom.

You can’t help but admire all the beautiful Fall colors as you begin your walk. You don’t even need music right now. You feel so at peace during this particular morning. All the beautiful colors. The slight chill in the air. The smell of cider someone is selling from a cart up the way. You’re definitely going to have to get some of that.

You spot a pile of leaves on your way to the cart and you have the strongest urge to run and jump in them. You stop walking and look around. You’re alone. Fuck it.

You take off and giggle like a little girl again as you launch yourself at the pile of leaves. You lose yourself in them. Forgetting everything for a moment and just enjoying the freeing feeling. You’re enjoying it so much you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You sit up and fish it out to see who’s interrupting your childlike moment. Ransom. You roll your eyes. The only time he calls you is when he wants sex. You’re just going to have to tell him you’re too busy at the moment.

You answer and put the phone to your ear as you lay back amongst the leaves. “Ransom, I cannot come over for some fuckery right now. I’m in my happy place.”

“Y/N. Hey. That’s not why I’m calling. Linda just called to let me know the funeral is tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d go with me?”

He doesn’t sound like himself. Sad almost. “Sure, Ran. Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know what time.”

“Visitation is from 2-4. The funeral starts right after. Then of course we’ll go bury him. Sorry your whole day will be full. I know how much you love your weekends.”

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air as if he can see it. “Ransom, don’t worry about that. This is more important. And besides, Monday is Columbus Day so I have an extra day off.”

“So that means you’ll be able to spend the night with me tomorrow night?”

You feel butterflies in your stomach. He’s never asked you to spend the night.

“Well, sure if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll need to fuck all of my frustrations out from being around my family all day.”

Ah, there’s the ulterior motive. You feel your heart sink a little. “Yeah, sure. How about I’ll just come to your place tomorrow around 1 and we can head over to the funeral together?”

“Sure, sure. Look I have to go. I have to try to get this chapter written today. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. Good luck with the chapter.”

“Oh and Y/N? Have fun playing in the leaves.”

With that he hangs up. You look around to make sure he’s nowhere around. How did he know you were in a pile of leaves?

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You head into the funeral with Ransom at around 1:45. Despite everything you can’t help but notice he looks handsome in his dark blue suit.

“God I hate funerals.” He says as he gazes around the room. He spots Linda.

“Well, who likes them?” You ask him as she approaches.

She throws her arms around Ransom’s neck. He reluctantly returns the hug.

“Oh, Ransom! I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

Ransom just rolls his eyes as he looks at you. He mouths ‘Help me’

You put your hand on Linda’s back. “Oh, Linda. I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

She lets go of Ransom and turns towards you. “Thank you dear. Even though he wasn’t my husband anymore I still loved him. A part of me always will.”

You glance over at Ransom who’s trying to avoid Walt that just walked in. You can’t help but know how she feels about loving someone like that. You love Ransom no matter what the 2 of you are. You think you always will.

You nod your head. “Of course you will. He was a big part of your life. And he’s Ransom's dad. He’ll always have a special place in your heart.”

She pulls you in for a hug. When she pulls back she cups your cheek. “I’m well aware that you’re too good for my son. But please don’t leave him. He can’t do any better than you.”

With that she heads over to greet more people filing in. You stand there shocked at her words. Linda has never been unpleasant towards you but that was the nicest damn thing she’s ever said to you.

You spot Ransom leaning against the opposite wall as far away from the other people as he can get.

You head over and stop in front of him with your arms crossed. “Ransom, aren’t you supposed to be talking to your family? Letting people give their condolences.”

“Fuck these people, Y/N. None of them gave a shit about Richard. I bet half of the women in this room fucked him at one point.”

You look around wide eyed to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Luckily they weren’t. “Jesus, Ransom be quiet! This is a funeral. And unlike you, some people are here to grieve!”

“Whatever, Y/N! You’re such a bitch. You didn’t like him either! You always called him a creep! So don’t stand there and act live you give a shit that he’s dead!”

Your mouth drops open. God he’s such an asshole! “You know what, fuck you Ransom! I do give a shit! Just because I thought he was a creep doesn’t mean I wanted him to die! I understand you’re grieving right now but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit. Maybe you should find somebody else to fuck out your frustrations on!”

By now the whole room is looking at you 2. You didn’t mean to be so loud but god dammit did he piss you off.

“You know what, Y/N? Maybe I will! Fuck off!”

He pushes away from the wall and stomps towards the door. “SHOVE IT, SATAN!” You can’t help but yell after him. You then take a look around the room and see everyone staring at you. “Sorry about that.” You quickly leave the room and head towards the kitchen area. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Meg following you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? God he is such a piece of shit.” She pulls you in for a hug,

You return it gratefully. “Thanks but I’m just worried about Linda. She’s already upset and I am certainly not making things any easier.”

She scoffs as she pulls away from you. “Oh, please! She was chuckling when you called him satan. Said it was an accurate name for him.”

You smile at her feeling relieved. “That’s good then. How are you holding up?”

She returns your smile. “I’m okay. Uncle Richard and I didn’t have a close relationship but I’ll still miss our debates we had.”

You nod in understanding. “I guess I should go find satan.”

Before you have a chance to leave the kitchen, Ransom comes in. He comes over and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t want to be here and I’m sick of these people pretending to grieve when I know they don’t care and I took my anger out on you. You were nice enough to be here with me today, you don’t deserve how I treated you.”

Your heart skips a beat. He never apologizes for anything. You pull away from the hug and cup his cheek. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. You get a free pass today. Now how about we head back in?”

He grabs your wrist and places a kiss on your palm. “Okay, will you stay by me?”

You pull him in for a quick peck. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

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The funeral was tastefully done. Ransom refused to ride over in the limo with the rest of the family. He said he wanted to drive over with you.

You pull into the cemetery and get out of the car. You look around for the gravesite. You don’t see one. “Ran, where’s the gravesite?”

Ransom just chuckles and points at the hill. “On the top of the hill. He wanted to be buried in the most expensive spot.”

You look down at your black pumps and then over at the slightly muddy hill. Well this should be fun.

Ransom sees your hesitation. “There’s a brick pathway. Your shoes are safe.”

You sigh in relief. Thank god. You follow the crowd that has now gathered toward the path. Ransom follows in step beside you. He grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You feel those stupid butterflies in your stomach again.

You can’t help but admire the beautiful fall foliage. It puts a smile on your face despite the sad day.

Ransom rolls his eyes playfully at you. “You and your Fall.”

“It’s beautiful, Ransom! How can you not love it?”

You’re too busy looking at all the leaves to notice him staring at you. “Yeah, it is beautiful.”

You reach the gravesite and stand with Ransom near the front. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything he’s holding onto it tighter.

You can’t help but let some tears fall as the minister says some more beautiful words. You chance a glance at Ransom and you see him wipe a single tear from his face. That makes you give his hand a reaffirming squeeze.

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Ransom wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck out his frustrations on you. He took you right against the wall as soon as you walked into his house. Then again on the island in the kitchen. And again on the stairs. (You’re sure to have bruises from that escapade). Finally finishing in his bed. You passed out almost right after the last one.

You woke up around 2 am with the urge to pee. You look over and see Ransom’s side of the bed empty. He must be downstairs rehydrating after all that fucking. You decide to quickly pee and then head down to find him.

He’s not in the kitchen like you thought. You’re about to go check his study to see if he’s up writing when you see a light on in the living room. You head in and see him sitting on the couch. His back is to you so he hasn’t realized you’re in the room yet. There’s something sitting on his coffee table. You move forward quietly trying not to disturb him in case he wants to be alone.

When you get close enough you see that it’s a framed picture of him and his dad. Ransom can’t be older than 16. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. His prized Beemer is in the background with a big red bow on top.

That’s when you hear the sniffling. You quickly round the couch and see that Ransom is clutching a pillow and sobbing into it. You take a seat next to him. You put a comforting hand on his back and rub it up and down in a soothing manner.

He looks up at you, tears covering his cheeks. “You know I think this is the only picture I have of me and my dad. I think he was happier than me that day. He was so proud to pass his car down to me.”

You just smile sadly and pull him in for a hug. He throws the pillow away and pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. You gently wipe away his tears with your thumbs. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I never even knew him, Y/N. And now I’m never gonna get the chance to.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and tightens his arms around your waist. He starts sobbing again.

You rub one hand up and down his back and run your other through his hair. “Shhh, Ransom. I know you’re hurting. I’m so sorry you lost him.”

“I fucking hate this, Y/N! I hate feeling like this. So helpless. And he fucking died alone. That’s gonna be me. I don’t want to die alone.” He looks up at you so innocently. So heartbroken.

You grab his face with both hands. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale, you’re not going to die alone. If you’re that afraid of it then change your ways.”

He lowers his eyes towards his hands that are resting on your hips. “I just hate feeling this way. I didn’t even know him. Why am I so fucking sad?” He looks back up at you.

“Because you didn’t know him and you’re regretting that. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Unfortunately you’re just going to have to deal with it and grieve. Doesn’t mean you can’t change your other relationships though. So you don’t feel like this ever again.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in just enough until your lips are touching. “It hurts so much, Y/N. Please help me forget. Even for just a little bit. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” He pulls you in for a fierce kiss, enough to take your breath away.

After you gain back some control you push against his chest. “Ransom, I don’t think this is the best way-”

“Please,Y/N? Please take the pain away.”

Your heart breaks. You look him in the eye and nod your head. He pulls you back in for another heated kiss. If this was the only way you could take away his pain, even if temporary, you’ll give it to him.

You put your hands in his hair and give it a tug making him groan. One of his hands moves to your ass, making you grind against his growing erection. The other remains on the back of your neck, not letting you break the kiss. He needs you close right now.

He pulls back from the kiss. “Need you, baby. Please.”

You quickly stand up to remove your pajama shorts and panties while he lowers his sweats just enough to free himself. You straddle him again and stroke his length up and down a few times, smearing his pre-cum all over. You guide him to your entrance and sink down on him. “Fuck, Ransom. Always feels so good.”

You give yourself a few minutes to adjust once your hips are flush against his. He settles his hands on your waist while yours rest on his shoulders. You lean in for a kiss before you start moving up and down on him. Moving at the hard and fast pace you know he always prefers.

“Wait, baby, slow down.” He grips your hips to stop your movements. You look at him confused. He always likes it hard and fast. He tightens his hold on your hips and starts grinding you on him. “Just need to feel you, Y/N. Can we slow down?”

Your heart flutters. “Of course.” You take over and start grinding against him. Keeping a slow rhythm. You throw your head back and moan. God he feels amazing. You can feel every part of him like this. Usually he’s going so fast you don’t get to appreciate the feeling of him dragging along your walls like this. This isn’t about reaching orgasm. This is intimacy. This is about feelings.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Made to fit me. My beautiful Y/N.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. You know this might not feel the same for him but it’s making you fall even more in love with him than what you already were.

You're not going to last long. Not only are your emotions getting the best of you but your clit is rubbing deliciously against his pelvis. He can feel you fluttering on his cock.

He pulls back and looks at you. “Gonna come for me pretty girl? I can feel you. You’re squeezing me so good. Let go, Y/N. I’m right behind you.”

You fall apart at his words. His name is a whisper on your lips. He buries his face back into the crook of your neck as he meets his end with a groan. Filling you up with everything he has.

You both stay like that for a minute. Just holding each other like you were afraid the other would disappear. He pulls back and looks at you again. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “I love you, Y/N. God I love you so fucking much.”

You feel tears fall down your face. “I love you too, Ransom. Always have and always will. I won’t let you die alone.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “No more of this fuck buddy stuff. I’m in this for real. For the long haul. I can’t feel like this ever again. I can live with how I feel about my dad. But you? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“We’re talking about a relationship here Ransom. The exact thing you always said you didn’t want. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you change your mind?”

“It will work out, I’ll make sure it does. I won’t be changing my mind. You’re it for me.  But if for some reason you decide I’m not what you want, then at least I can say I tried. I’m willing to regret you for the rest of my life.”

You melt at his words. This is all you’ve ever wanted. For him to love you. Why the fuck were you questioning it?

You lean back in for another kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You lean in for another kiss. “Okay. But I’m exhausted. Can you take me to bed now?”

He chuckles and stands you both up. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you to bed.”

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You wake up the next morning with the biggest smile on your face. Not only did Ransom confess his love for you last night but it was the most beautiful Fall day outside. You wondered if you could convince him to go for a walk with you.

The smell of coffee hits your nose and you quickly throw back the covers to head downstairs. As you turn to head into the kitchen you find Ransom. He’s dialing a number on his phone. His back is to you.

Curious, you stay behind for a minute to see who he’s calling.

“Hello, Mom? Hi. How are you?...Good….Yeah she’s here, she’s upstairs sleeping. I know, I’m not gonna let her go. Hey listen I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me today, just us?”

You can’t help the big smile that spreads across your face. Maybe Ransom was changing after all.

All Cevans characters taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?