#it’s a little scary to be going on the ‘front lines’ in this state

[liyazaki]

just got out of a Florida LGBTQ activism meeting. an 81 year-old ex cop turned queer artist/poet shared his story, encouraging all of us to “please stay the course- do not compromise who you are like I spent way too much of my life doing. you. are. worth it. we are worth it.”

[triplefrontierbabe]

hello! can i request a dr3 x black cat! reader? we all know dr is like a golden retriever and the dynamic with a tough, badass r, i feel would be so good! it gets to the point where the grid is like “mate your gf is kinda scary” and are legitimately scared of her (except for max, and danny tries to tell them shes not). but one night maybe dr (+more) get tooo drunk and the grid sees how caring and loving r really is (takes care of them) and understands that shes just a tough exterior with a soft loving interior please?

if not, its all good!! thank you 🤍

Opposites Attract

summary: Daniel’s the only person who knows how to crack your hard exterior

pairing: black cat! f!reader x golden retriever! Daniel Ricciardo

warnings: mention of drinking, you are responsible for the content you consume

a/n: I love this prompt!! I truly think Danny has the personality fit for a black cat! gf. hope you enjoy!

Daniel loves to smile, a lot. It’s kinda his thing. If Daniel Ricciardo isn’t smiling then something is seriously wrong. You can’t forget about his contagious laugh that livens up any space he’s in. Overall, he’s just a ray of sun bursting with joy.

So you can imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces when he introduced you as his girlfriend. You, the stoic, keeps-to-herself, only-shows-minimal-expressions girl dating Daniel, the golden retriever of the grid.

To any outsider the relationship dynamic didn’t really make sense. But, to be fair, compared to many other wives and girlfriends of the grid, you keep your life fairly private. You accompany Daniel to his races, you watch the race then you’re ready to go home as soon as the last car crosses the finish line. And, unlike many of the other drivers’ better halves, modeling and being in front of the camera is not your thing.

“I can’t tell if she hates me or likes me? She seems a little intimidating.” Lando says to Daniel one day. Daniel has introduced you to many of his mates and you’ve gotten to know many of them on a personal level outside of the paddock. Your stoicism once again triumphing in confusing the drivers.

“No, she does like you, Lando.” Daniel says. “I know she’s hard to read sometimes but she enjoys the company.”

This was a conversation Daniel found himself having often with other drivers. While you did fraternize with the other ladies, your social battery was quick to wear out on long weekends. Often excusing yourself from conversations because you were tired and could only handle so much interaction in one go.

However, after one race weekend, Daniel somehow convinced you to go out with a group of the drivers and their partners. It was a good race for Daniel, he placed P8, so of course a celebration of points was in order.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He tried reasoning with you. He had tried many times before in convincing you to go to a bar or club to celebrate. Only once before was he successful, and that was because it was to celebrate his birthday.

“And, we don’t even have to stay that long” he began “just have a couple drinks, mingle a little bit then leave.”

Now that was a plan you could get behind.

“Okay, I guess.” You said, sighing in defeat. It was one night, that wouldn’t kill you. And who knows, maybe people would see you’re not all that emotionless after all.

The night was going along just fine. Drinks were served, conversations were had, music was played. Max somehow ended up dancing on top of a table which resulted in Daniel joining him.

You and the other girls giggled at the sight of the grown men acting like college frat boys at a rush party. Yes, you giggled too. Lando saw it. He tried to take a mental note, amidst his drunken state, of the expression of emotion you had. Who knows if anyone would ever see that again.

“Mate did you just see Daniel’s girl smile?” Lando asked Charles who was standing close by. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mental note he made after all.

Before you knew it, the clock had gone way past midnight and many more drinks were had. You, however, tapped out after two drinks. Someone in the relationship needed to be the coherent one for the night and it sure wasn’t going to be Daniel.

“Babe, I love this song!” Daniel shouted over top of DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love as he stumbled towards you and the rest of the group. Once he was standing next to you he started dancing, terribly, attempting to twerk or at least move his butt in a what he thought to be a provocative manner.

As he bumped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene you had now been brought into. Your almost six foot tall boyfriend acting like a newly turned twenty one year old at a bar for the first time. It was truly comical in the way he moved. For being as tall as he was, dancing for him was quite the sight, his lanky arms moving every which way with no rhythm at all.

“Baby dance with me” he whined reaching out to hold your waist and slightly slurring his words in the meantime. He was quite gone. The thing about alcohol and Danny was that it just heightened his golden retriever energy. He’s already very energetic and affectionate while sober, but inebriated? That’s a whole new level.

As much as you were reluctant to leave, you knew if Danny didn’t get to bed soon, the inevitable hangover in the morning would only be ten times worse.

“Okay honey, I think it’s time we head out.” You announce putting an arm around his waist to keep him upright. As soon as your arm is around his tall frame, he leans into your touch just like a puppy who hasn’t seen their human all day.

“But the party’s just getting started.” Daniel said pouting. Once again, a laugh escaped you before you could even process what was happening.

“I know, I know” you began as you put Daniel’s arm around your shoulder. “We can have more of a party later, okay?” You said patting his chest, trying to maneuver him in a way that would make it easy to walk out.

Before heading out, you announce your and Daniel’s departure and thank everyone for such a great night.

The group watches in amazement as you methodically guide Daniel around the crowd and head for the door. And they don’t miss the kiss you press to Daniel’s cheek along the way.

The guys are stunned to say the least.

“I think that’s the most personality I’ve seen from her ever.” Max exclaims, eyes wide at what he just witnessed.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak before.” Charles adds.

“It’s no wonder he chose her,” George begins, “she keeps him calm.”

So yeah, is your and Daniel’s relationship dynamic totally different on the outside? Sure. But he’s the only one who has managed to open up your heart just enough for him.

Opposites do attract after all.

Check out my Masterlist

[klttn]

ellie with da bunny!reader requests once again !!!! could u do an alastor x bunny!reader where they were married in life, and alastor always called her a little rabbit, and now that thwyre in hell... he finds it soo amusing that shes a bunny demon :3c

an : bunny reader gives me life,, domestic alastor is just so dreamy nd cute n i love our big loser deer man

— 𝜗𝜚 alastor x female reader sfw. marriage. domesticated alastor. blood. gore. stabbing. alastor was a big scary serial killer.

domestic life with alastor was your favourite thing in the world, you didn’t need anything as long as he was by your side. and that reigned true from the shitty expanse of the earth where you and he made yourself a home to the dark depths of hell where you found peace with him in all the chaos.

up on earth, alastor always called you his ‘little rabbit’, so small and fragile, he thought it fit very well. especially considering how you met.

you met in a forest, with muddy feet and hair awry, tears streaming down your soft cheeks and alastor in front of you with a knife to mans throat. how romantic?

it was the 1930’s. alastor, the dexter-like serial killer he was, was saving your life. the fightening scene before you having you paralysed, gawking in horror as he slashed a mans throat. you knew you should’ve run, should’ve screamed, should’ve done something, anything. but you didn’t. alastors eerie smile plastered on his face as he looked at you, letting his strained voice resonate through the trees. “run rabbit, run rabbit, run-“ stab. “run-“ stab. “run-“ stab. reiterating all the words with a fatal prod to the man’s throat.

such a scary song when sung to you like that.

you stepped back, hands over your mouth, your feet moving without thinking, backing up, going further into the trees, too afraid to take your eyes away from what was in front of you. your head a mess with a frenzy of worrying thoughts going wild. so loud you didn’t notice a branch in the path, tripping and falling into a dizzying state. the white dress the man had put you in browning from the soil as you collided with the dirt, a soft sob slipping past your lips. the first noise you’d made since alastor arrived.

your vision blurred with the pounding of your head and time became subjective. you didn’t know if it had been a few minutes or thirty. barely able to keep your eyes open when you were brought out of it by the faint sound of footsteps moving toward you.

“my, my. what a clumsy little rabbit,” alastor muttered, bringing his face into your line of site. waiting with a soft smile for you to come to and look at him. “hey, little one, no, stay with me, no blacking out on me, sweetheart.” his fingers coming up to click in front of your face in attempt to ground you. his calm demeanour doing everything to contradict his blood splashed slacks and white shirt. he looked vicious. a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead and all the veins in his forearms bulging from his brutal attack.

your eyes unglazed ever so slightly, piecing your vision back together looking down as your voice broke, whispering, not daring to look at the man in front of you. “a- are you going to kill me too?” it came out weak and hopeless, exactly how you felt.

alastor dropped his smile, faltering before fully kneeling down to your height in attempt to seem less frightening. “heavens no, little rabbit,” his features now switching to that infamous grin he still wears to this day. “im here to save you. to protect you from that monster. he should’ve thought twice before attempting such filthy things on a pretty girl like you.”

you looked up to him with big doe eyes, brimmed with unshed tears that threatened to spill with the ones already dried out on your doughy cheeks. “i’m so- i’m- i’m sorry, i- i should’ve helped more, should’ve ran.”

a look of hurt, from your words, shone in alastors eyes before returning to his stoic mask, “don’t worry about that,” he promised then paused, choosing his next words very carefully for your vulnerable state. “can i touch you?” he elongated both his arms inches away from you but gentle as not to make contact. “i need to make sure youre not hurt, little one.” another pause, his eyes searching your own. “please?” you pulled the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth before nodding subtly, anticipating his touch.

alastors hands lowered to you slowly, carefully skimming over your face, fingers tracing your features as he looked for any cuts or bruises. he trailed down, letting his featherlight touch move your malleable body to inspect every inch of you, only stopping briefly before coming to your knees. his thumbs rubbing soft lines over the bloodied joints that were no doubt from the impact of being forced to kneel and your fall. but alastor didn’t want to think about that.

“may i take you somewhere? my home, more specifically, to tend to these cuts? i wont hurt you anymore than i have to, i promise, little rabbit.”

it was hard to focus with his fingers still brushing over your knees, “o-okay.”

surprise filled your eyes as alastors hands shifted, hooking his arms under you and scooping you up into his embrace. you wrapped your limbs around him in return, immediately feeling a wave of safety in his arms. “i need to make sure youre out of harms way before i take care of this body, i can’t leave a little thing like you out here with dangerous men lingering.” he said it so casually like he wasn’t talking about disposing of a body. but your thoughts only lingered on the part of him prioritising your safety. “im already dangerous enough for you.”

a thought ran past your head, a pang of irrational jealousy bubbling up your throat, “do- do you take everyone you save back to your home?”

alastor sighed, taking his gaze elsewhere, to the moon in the distance as he played with the tattered dress scrunched up on your plushy thighs. “no,” he mumbled, “they usually run from me. i’ll follow them until i know they’re safe but my intent is never to scare them more.” he returned to look at you again, “why haven’t you ran from me? you may be hurt but you’re still capable of running and i am a man with a knife who you’ve just seen kill whilst smiling with no remorse. makes me question if im the sane one between the three of us.” he gestured his head back to the dead body behind him. hearty smile easing you even more from the corner of your eye.

“i don’t know-“ you whisper and he looks at you in a way that makes you feel like you hung the stars. his hands now under your dress to the tops of your thighs to rub circles in attempt to calm your nerves, lulling you into a sense of comfort for the first time tonight.

“sweetheart, try and get some sleep, can you do that for me? i’ve got you, you’re safe and i can see you fighting so hard to keep those pretty eyes open, i promise you’ll be okay.” you stammered a soft ‘okay’ past your lips as the dizziness from finally moving started taking over you, involuntarily nuzzling into his neck from the fleeting adrenaline. “besides,” he whispered directly into your ear, pressing an uncharacteristically tender kiss to your temple.“you need all the rest before we get there. my ma is going to love you, little rabbit. she’s always wanted me to bring a girl home.” you didn’t even register his words as the world became dark with your head on his shoulder.

“and i think ive found the prettiest one,” he whispered once he saw your breaths go from being heavy to a minimal rise and fall. your first encounter with him becoming one you’ll never forget.

now to your arrival in hell. the unexpected meeting where a man and his wife were reunited years and years after parting before being inseparable in their past lives.

alastor always thought you ended up in heaven so imagine his surprise, long after his death when you stumbled to his feet in hell, looking just how he left you. but now with soft bunny ears that mingled with your hair, cute little cotton tail above your ass and a nose twitching so nervously with those big, wide eyes staring up at him like you did all those years ago in that forest. a chuckle slipping out from alastor beyond the shock, “so you really are meant to be my little rabbit forever, aren’t you, my pretty bunny?”

a soft huff and a pouty expression crept onto your face, “been your bunny since you saved me in those woods and you know it.”

alastors finger rested under your chin, lolling your head back to look up at him. “precisely, now come here and give your husband a kiss, its been far too long without you,” and so you did, spending the rest of your life in hell sounded perfect if it was with the love of your life, the man that saved you, your, now, radio demon.

[anastasiareyreed]

Try to feel what Ukrainians are going through by imagining a hypothetical situation.

Imagine that you have to leave your home. Not to go on vacation or travel. Not because you are uncomfortable in this house and not because you have found a better place for yourself.

You leave your home because you can already hear gunfire on the front line and you know that the front is rapidly approaching, that any day now the enemy army will enter your city or village and begin to kill and torture civilians and animals, loot houses, destroy everything they see.

All the memories you have, all your stuff, your clothes, furniture, flowers, toys, books, posters. You will have to leave it all behind. You will only have the memories you created during the years of peaceful life.

You won't be able to take everything you own from your home. You'll have to take only the bare essentials. Important documents, medicine, some clothes. And it's good if you have your own transport that can fit a little more. But what if all you have is a suitcase?

You will have to fit your entire life into one suitcase.

And it's scary to admit but I'm afraid that one day I'll have to flee too. I look at all my collectibles of my favorite characters from movies and TV shows. At accessories and toys. At the miniature Christmas tree that stands on the table decorated. At the Christmas lights, comfortable and cozy bed with a soft blanket. At my dog's little bed. At every detail that I personally chose to make this place my home. And something inside me breaks.

For many Ukrainians, this situation is a harsh reality. Today many Ukrainians are already packing their lives into suitcases, while the Christmas tree still shines with lights in the corner of the living room, reminding of the safe times. And somewhere far away the world celebrates Christmas and awaits the New Year, because life goes on.

At this moment their homes are not filled with celebration. There is fear and doom and confusion, life there is divided into "before" and "after". And very soon this life will freeze. Dishes in drawers, clothes that didn't have enough space during the evacuation. All the little things that once gave comfort, remain on shelves and boxes.

Cafes and restaurants where people once gathered, coffee shops where people had their first dates, parks where people once went for walks with their pets... all of these are turning into ghosts. Post offices and shops are gradually closing. The electricity is gradually turning off.

When they leave their homes, they know that russians will enter and destroy everything. For fun. And because of hatred. They will burn furniture, clothes, books and toys. They will destroy gardens and flowerbeds, rob, take away household appliances and expensive things, send them to russia as a gift to their families and friends. They will tear the soul out of every house they enter.

And these Ukrainians will not be able to return because there will be nowhere to go. They will have to seek shelter elsewhere, they will have to start life from a new, damaged page, experiencing all the stages of grief at the same time.

The situation would be different if the partners, who promised Ukraine protection and support, helped not only in words, acting at minimum. If they gave the weapons they promised and in the same quantity as promised. And as often as promised. If they imposed sanctions on russia and didn't continue cooperation with russians. If they didn't allow russia to speak in international arenas and head the UN (like how tf is this even possible). If they treated russia as the terrorist state that it is. If they helped fight against tyranny and Nazism as a real democratic united world that we often see in movies.

I still have faith that the world will wake up and help Ukrainians stop russia. But with every news about Ukrainian civilians and soldiers tortured by russians, with every news about Ukrainians who leave their homes without hope, with every news about shelled children's hospitals, residential buildings and playgrounds my faith weakens. I don't see the world's reaction, russia feels impunity and I feel like everyone doesn't care, like no one understands the scale of this threat to the entire world.

please do not stop supporting Ukraine.

[small-2-butterball]

Wg scenario #6

**Long post**

By some fat miracle, I start gaining weight in a public setting. I’m at the mall shopping and decide to stop by the food court.

As I’m eating my food, I notice my pants are starting to feel a little tight. But I think nothing of it and keep eating. Then the waist band becomes uncomfortably tight and I look down to see my belly swelling out and I’m suddenly aware of the changes.

My thighs are fighting my pants with more and more pressure. My love handles ooze out my sides, along with some back rolls around my braw line. The sleeves of my shirt are squeezing against my expanding upper arms.

I look around to see if anyone else notices, but no one does so far. My mind is racing and I’m frozen in shock. But the weight keeps piling on by the minute.. second… I look down at my food and see that now my hands, fingers and forearms are filling out. I look at my food and I’m overcome with hunger (a half eaten burger) and take a bite, and another.. and another. After it’s done, I start eating my french fries by the hand full. I’ve never felt so hungry.

All this was building more pressure on the waist band until *PING!!!* the button popped off hiring the chair across from me. People turn to look! My belly plops onto my lab with a jiggle.

My face is red from embarrassment, but I keep eating and slurping on my diet soda.

From the back… people can see my waistline get wider and wider, flabby love handles escaping my too small pants, my ass is getting so wide that rips begin to form in the middle of the pants.

From the side… people see my belly peek out under my shirt and creep across my lap. My arms are getting flabbier, and my boobs getting heavier and heavier till they rest on my upper belly. The seams on the side of my pants begin to split as my thighs expand.

From the front… people can see my face change before their eyes! Cheek bones being buried in fat, giving my eyes a slight squint. Sharp angles start to round out, a very notice double chin and fat neck begin to form as I find it more difficult to look down at my food.

I keep expanding after I finish eating. I look around in panic as I try to heap myself up from the seat. People start to gather around me and watch.

I ask for help! “What’s happening to me??” “Someone make it stop” but people only laugh, and joke about the blimp inflating before them.

“Look at her blow up!” “What a fatty!” They poke and jiggly my new and growing rolls and I’m unable to get out of my seat due to all the people surrounding me. I start to feel the sides of my ass droop down the sides of the seat, and my tummy press against the able. Im stuck!

“What a porker” “how big are you gonna get?” “Look at the fatty stick in her seat! What a greedy fat pig!” The comments keep coming while I sit there helpless and growing. I don’t admit it.. but it all feels so…good! The chair starts to creak.

The teasing continues.. “I bet fatty can’t even reach the end of her belly!” “She must be like 500lbs by now!” I feel my neck disappear into my fat, my bra snaps off.. I’m in such a euphoric state as it’s all happening. It feels good to expand, to be so jiggly, so embarrassing, so hot, so scary!

The funnily the seat under me breaks, and I plop down as a jiggly mass. The expanding has stopped. I make any attempts to pull myself up, receiving no help from my audience, only teasing and humiliation. When I finally get to my feet, the weight settles in.

I am ridiculously heavy, massive, jiggly! My pants are in neat shreds, pantries stretched to their limit, braw unhooked but still holding on by my tight shirt that has now become a crop top. I can’t see my feet, only a massive belly.

I start to always lay waddle down the isle, embarrassed of my state. As I go, I contemplate going to my car and leaving or to another store to buy larger clothes. People who pass me by stare, gawk, and humiliate me without control.

Red-faced I stay silent. Yeah, I’m a big fat pig now.. just like everyone says. And I secretly LOVE it.

[sexhaver]

Boston driving tips:

if you're making an unprotected left at a stoplight and are the first one in line when the light turns green, your job is to gun it and make that left turn before any oncoming traffic has an opportunity to move. otherwise you will sit there throughout that entire fucking light, forcing everyone behind you who wants to go straight to merge to the right (which of course gums up both lanes), until it turns red again and you awkwardly finish up your turn while the entire intersection glares daggers at you. if you pull this shit on a one-lane road, then congratulations, you made it so you were the only one to make it through on that light cycle, and the drivers behind you are not only allowed but actively encouraged to pit manuever you off the road if they can catch up.

for optimal performance, you should be looking at the signal for the cross street + the walk signal. once you see the cross signal turn red, hold down your brake with your left foot to free up your right foot to hover over the gas pedal. that way, when your light turns green, you can simultaneously lift your left foot while dropping your right to instantly start moving. this maneuver has many names depending on where you learn it. i learned it as the "Worcester left" but ive also heard it referred to as a "Lexington left".

if you're in the left lane and one person passes you on your right, there's a 50/50 shot on which one of you is the asshole (you for driving too slow in the passing lane, or the passer for being a speed demon)

if two people pass you on your right, you are the asshole and need to merge right at the soonest opportunity to avoid further embarrassment

if THREE (or, god forbid, more) people pass you on your right, pull over to the nearest breakdown lane at your earliest convenience and commit seppuku with a tire iron

become intimately familiar with the exact size of your car and how close you can get to stuff without hitting it. this proprioception is helpful when parallel parking but is mostly for those times when someone is trying to turn left from a single-lane road, and they pull off as far to the left as they can without going into oncoming traffic to let people around them, and then the person behind them spends a few seconds trying to fit their 6-foot-wide car through a 9-foot-wide gap before concluding that this maneuver is sadly impossible. don't be that fucking guy

learn how to parallel park. yes i know it's stereotypically scary but there is a method you can learn and it will save your ass so many times. just line up your car's side mirror with the side mirror of the car in front of the spot you want, cut the wheel all the way towards the curb, move for a bit, stop, cut the wheel all the way the other way, resume, wham bam thank you ma'am

you can ignore like 80% of all "no parking" signs because they all say NO PARKING in huge bold letters and then under that in 8pt font they add "every second Tuesday of every month during lobster season on odd sides of the street only from 7-9pm". or it's "reserved" parking for an event that already happened or hasn't happened yet (they put the effective dates right there on the sign)

turning right on red is technically legal at a state level in MA, but most intersections in Boston will have a cheeky little "no turn on red" sign hidden somewhere as a fun Eye-Spy-type game for kids to play on road trips. if you don't see one of these signs, it's a coinflip whether you just missed it or if you can actually turn right

are you moving into Boston for college? you should definitely rent a moving van for your stuff and then follow your GPS directions that take you down Storrow Drive. nothing bad has ever happened to moving vans on Storrow Drive

[scoobydoodean]

Not a lot to say about 7.10 "Death's Door" which presents a pretty clear (and I think very touching) narrative. But one thing I want to talk about is Sam and Dean's responses to Bobby being at death's door and Dean filling the assumed role as the oldest, handling most practical matters surrounding their adoptive father's hospitalization and death (and being afforded far less breathing room partly as a consequence). We already know from 3.10 that Dean is Bobby's emergency contact. In that same episode, Dean refers to Bobby as his father for the first time. Dean makes the same claim in 4.01, and of course—in 7.10, Bobby makes it very clear that he sees Sam and Dean as his sons.

The first way we see Dean taking on the practical role as the oldest son is by facing the initial news about Bobby's condition from the doctor alone. Whether it's good or bad, he knows he has to be the one to hear it. Dean stands tall but rigid—bracing himself. In contrast, Sam noticeably hangs in the background. He isn't ready to shoulder any of the information about Bobby's condition yet without his older brother as a buffer.

Sam is looking very little brother shaped when the doctor leaves and Dean turns around to see how Sam is reacting to the news that Bobby is stable.

Notice how Sam stands—as far back against the wall as possible. Dean had been standing right in front of the door to Bobby's room when the doctor emerged. In contrast, Sam's position protected him from having a direct line of sight into Bobby's room when the curtains opened, because he can't look.

Note: I'm not judging Sam for this. It's a reasonable reaction to the fear of losing a loved one. I also think it's in keeping with Sam's previous avoidance of situations that would force him to confront Bobby possibly not making it or in a tenuous emotional state (some examples where I've talked about this here and here and here... or more generally—#sam and bobby).

Sam's feeling more ready to face news about Bobby's condition at Dean's side the next time we see the brothers. They're being told it's possible that Bobby will live, but that he has high swelling, and they can't operate until it goes down. They're also told that most people with this injury die, and "Right now, it all comes down to [Bobby]".

Immediately after the doctor finishes telling them this, with no time to process it, a man comes in asking for Bobby's next of kin, clearly needing to settle some practical matter (Dean initially assumes related to insurance) once again, Dean handles this alone. We see him framed at the very end of the hallway in a separate area, Sam once again noticeably absent.

Dean isn't even being asked about insurance (which he's already not happy about) but about donating Bobby's organs. This guy's timing is absolutely awful. He also assumes Bobby will die, when Dean is focused on just having been told that Bobby could still make it, which makes Dean very upset.

THEN Dean exists the hospital to cool off, and yet again fills the role of the oldest son by inheriting the role of avenger. He sees and confronts Dick Roman alone in the parking lot, swearing to avenge Bobby (which Dean does at the end of the season—as he did John and Mary in 2.22). Dean's actually so confident and scary that—for all his gloating bravado and soulless smiles—Dick appears genuinely threatened for a moment (of course—we already knew from Dick's master plan to get rid of them in 7.06 that he takes The Winchesters seriously as a threat).

While Dean's been gone handling "insurance" (Dean says that's what it was about when Sam asks) and measuring dicks with Dick (which he does mention to Sam), Sam's worked himself up to looking into Bobby's room from a distance.

It's here that Dean asks for an update, and Sam is in the position of being the one to have received news about Bobby that Dean doesn't know yet. Bobby's swelling is going down and he's breathing on his own, which are both good signs. But the doctors aren't sure about surgery yet because it could be risky, and there's dead brain tissue. Bobby's currently stable, but Sam has begun to face the fact that Bobby might not make it. Note that he’s also had time to process alone after hearing the latest news. Dean hasn’t.

Sam then asks to talk to Dean and starts walking out of sight of Bobby again, and here's where he pulls his signature Sam maneuver: Trying to process what he's trying to face through Dean, by trying to make it a problem that Dean hasn't accepted the possibility that Bobby might not make it... when there's not... actually any real reason to push Dean to "accept" that possibility right now. If Bobby had been in intensive care for weeks, that would be one thing... but it hasn't even been 24 hours since he was shot. Whether Bobby has a high probability of making it or not, Dean really hoping he will... isn't actually a problem Dean needs to "deal" with right now for his emotional health or any other reason.

SAM: Can I talk to you? DEAN: What? Talk about what? SAM: You know what. DEAN: No, we're not gonna have that conversation. SAM: Well, we need to. DEAN: He's not gonna die. SAM: He might. DEAN: Sam. SAM: Dean, listen – we need to brace ourselves. DEAN: Why? SAM: Because it's real. DEAN: What do you want to do? You want to hug and – and say we made it through it when Dad died? We've been through enough.

Sam's choice of words here—"because it's real"—isn't an accident. When Dean walks out, Sam sits and immediately presses his thumb into his palm—the action he uses to dispel hallucinations of Lucifer—who is no doubt mocking him and taunting him with hope of Bobby making it being a pipe dream. We know from 6.22 that one of hallucifer's taunts is that Sam never even left The Cage and all of this has been an elaborate hoax to give Sam hope then completely crush his spirit. As a result, Sam feels he needs to go ahead and accept the worst case scenario so that "Lucifer" can't crush him with despair he wasn't ready to feel.

The thing is... this is a problem very specific to Sam. It may be a reality Sam needs to accept on a particularly quick timeline, but it isn't a "we" situation—it's a "me" situation, and what's "good" for Sam isn't necessarily "good" for Dean. There's nothing here that Dean needs to "accept" at this stage. It's not fair to claim he's in denial. Dean's "crime" here is wanting to hope in something he’s been told is possible, and he doesn't appreciate Sam trying to make that a problem and trying to take his hope away prematurely. But Sam finds he needs to "accept", and instead of facing that within himself, tries to make it a problem Dean is having that Sam needs to force him to work through.

[suzzukiiii]

hello! :33

i wanted to request something for simon “ghost” riley x fem!Reader and there’s an age gap between them where reader is 19 and simon is in his late 30s and he moves in next door to her and her family and she starts getting a little crush on him then simon finds out about it and starts teasing her about it you can choose if there is smut :3 i would love to see what you do with this!

have an amazing day/night! <3333

ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪɴɢ ɪɴ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ☆

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆

a young female notices that someone finally moves in next door, she decides to talk to him. ☆☆☆

pairing; female!reader x ghost. !! a/n; there will be a part 2 of course, i just wanted to post something lol. !! genre & disclaimer; fluff i think ?? contains age gap

it was a sunny afternoon, and y/n was sitting on their porch, enjoying the weather, when she noticed that someone was moving into the house next door. it was a tall man, probably in his late 30's, carrying a bunch of boxes. strangely, he was wearing a mask? he then walked outside the house again to grab more boxes, when he noticed someone staring at him. he turned his head to the young female. he asked in a deep, cold tone that suggested he might be a little irritated, "can i help you?". the sound of his british accent was quite noticeable. y/n's eyes widened, realizing that she had been caught staring at him. a nervous stutter was heard from her as she replied. "uh, no. sorry, i was just...looking around." the guy looked away and continued transporting the boxes.

never ever had y/n seen someone like that. wearing a mask, randomly like that, and who knows why? she somehow found it attractive though, as-well as his muscular build, deep voice, and him surely being way older... this guy was totally her type.

the day went on and y/n just couldn't stop thinking about his voice, his line just went over and over through her mind. "do i try to talk to him tomorrow? like give him some sort of welcome gift..?" she thought to herself. "he seems a bit scary though.."

and then she fell asleep.

day after,

y/n woke up. it was a saturday, which meant no school. she thought of maybe baking something to the new neighbour. she instantly went on her phone to find a few recipes, and with that, about an hour later, the house was filled up with aroma of the choclate cake y/n just had made, feeling proud of herself. she went to her room to go and grab a cute outift, letting her hair out and left the house with the choclate cake in her hands. she then knocked on the door of his and suddenly felt her heart beating faster, she started to feel nervous.. "this isn't too much, is it? but this might be the chance where i could ask about the mask he's wearing...." she began to think. not so long after, the door opened, only to reveal the tall and muscular man.

"hello! me and my family live next door, i thought i would bake something for you as a welcome.." y/n stated, pretty quickly, but was good at hiding her nervousity.

the neighbour looked down at her, he had to be around 6'4 or something as tall as he looked. "you didn't have to do that, but thank you" he stated and took the cake, he placed the cake on a table and walked to the front door. he didn't really say anything after that, as if the conversation was over but y/n quickly came up with something.

"...your name?" she slowly questioned, waiting for him to answer. "name's simon ghost riley. you can call me simon" he responded. "and yours is?"

"my name is y/n! nice to meet you." she exclaimed, stretching out her hand, waiting for him to shake her hand. he looked down at the empty hand and then shook it. his hands were big, firm, yet soft. she couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat. "nice to meet you" he replied. he then let go of her and was about to walk inside his home. "well, i'll see you around" he implied before closing the door. y/n was just completely frozen about what had just happened while her hair swinged with the wind. her heart was beating fast and a thousand emotions came across her body.

part 2 coming up tomorrow !!

[plussizefantasia]

Munson's Commentary

Flufftober Day 22: Haunted House

Modern AU: Eddie Munson x f!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: This was inspired by a real-life experience I had at one of those scare experience places that are like hainted houses on steroids. I wish I had had an Eddie Munson to protect me, but alas I had to do it myself. Feedback and Reblgs are much appreciated. See y'all tomorrow!

divider credit @royallaesthetics

“You guys are fucking sick, you know that?” You spat out at Robin and Steve who were over on the sidewalk laughing their assess off. 

This was their idea, doing the Scare Factor Experience ™ and you were totally not afraid to admit that when it came to shit like this you were a wimp. You had told them so right after they suggested the Saturday night outing and yet, here you were. Waiting on the sidewalk outside this warehouse-looking place with a bunch of other young adults in various states of intoxication. It was halfway to freezing out here and you were in a simple jeans and sweater-combo. Which would have been sufficient for hanging out at Steves as the plans had originally been.

Robin had seen the ad on her phone while scrolling on the couch and immediately started convincing the group that it would be “So fun” and “a great idea”. Bullshit. You didn’t consider being scared by weird people in makeup was a great way to spend your night.

But you’d been outvoted and unceremoniously shoved into the back of Steve’s car so you apparently didn’t really have a choice.

When you’d arrived and seen how long the line was you’d tried to convince the others that it would be too long and you should just go home, which only caused another round of booing at you and some minor bullying that you wouldn’t put up with form anyone except your friends.

It was obvious you were on edge, which to the dumbass duo over there meant that you were free game apparently. They’d been trying to jumpscare you in line every ten minutes for the past hour and had successfully gotten you a few times.

“C’mon guys, leave the scaring to the professionals.” Eddie had told them, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you into his side. 

“We’re just messing around Munson.” Steve had replied, sticking his tongue out at your curly-haired savior. You stuck your tongue right back out at him and turned to his your face in eddies chest. Eddie hadn’t really said much tonight, usually you can’t get him to stop talking but tonight was different for some reason.

“You okay, Eds?” You mumbled into the neckline of his shirt.

“Yeah Princess, just not thrilled about being here.”

“I thought you liked scary things?”

“I do, but you don’t. I don’t want to force you to do this but I also don’t want to leave you out here where I can’t keep an eye on you.”

“Aww Eds. I’ll be okay I promise. I’m just a little scardey cat sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t have to be okay about it. Tweedle dee and tweedle dum over there should’ve taken no for an answer and planned to go another time.

“Thank you for sticking up for me Eddie, but seriously It’s not that big of a deal.”

“If you say so, princess. Just know that I’ve got your back.”

A few more minutes went by, during which your little group shuffled closer and closer to the doors. At one point, Nancy and Jon joined your group. You don’t know who had texted them but they were here now. You loved hanging out with them but weren’t too excited at the prospect that more people were going to see you freak out in a few more minutes.

Eventually, your group made it to the doors and listened to the guy at the entrance explain the rules. No pictures, no running, and definitely no putting your hands on the scare actors. Apparently, some people punched when they were scared.

You and Eddie were smack dab in the middle of your group. Robin and Steve had locked arms and were raring to go at the front. You and Eddie were right behind them, Eddie still having his hand on your back, attempting to rub soothing circles into your skin. Nancy and Jonathon were behind you too, whispering back and forth between the two of them and giggling. You had no idea what could possibly be funny right now.

The guy who had told you the rules pulled back a thick black curtain and told you all to go ahead into the starting room.

Stepping past the curtain submerged your group into a sea of darkness. There was no light except for the faint glow of the fire exit sign right behind you.

Steve and Robin marched confidently towards the other set of doors in the room, past that was the haunted house, which didn’t have any exits you could take once you went through it.

Together they pushed the doors open and a dark red light could be seen on the other side but not much. You were trembling in your boots at this point. You could feel your tears begin to water and your breath begin to pick up and Eddie did too.

“I got you, Princess.” He whispered into your ear, and you calmed down even if it was just lightly. Slowly and with a small push from Eddie your feet began to work again and you started shuffling forward and into the first room.

This room wasn’t really a room, more like a hallway. The walls were made of some kind of metal sheeting and above your heads were red pulsating lightblubs. The hallway wasn’t very wide, meant for only one person to go through at a time. Eddie grabbed your hand and took the lead. Slowly pulling you behind him but turning his head back a couple of times to check on you. Behind you, Nancy was looking around, without the need to hold her boyfriend’s hand and you were suddenly distracted by the feeling of fear, as it was quickly replaced by embarrassment. 

However, the feeling faded just as quickly as it had come when you entered another room. One modeled after a kind of run-down hospital. There was a woman behind a counter, dressed in a blood-covered nurse's outfit. In her hands was the largest needle you had ever seen, her head was tipped back and she was laughing like a maniac.

You were absolutely terrified. It was all too much, the low lights, the creepy soundtrack in the background. The fog that was being pumped into the building made it hard to breathe and you could tell you were beginning to panic. That was until you heard, “Do you take walk-ins? I don’t think I have an appointment,” come out of your boyfriend’s mouth. You couldn’t help but smile. If Eddie had a superpower it would be his humor, it was one of the many reasons you loved him. 

Room after room, Eddie would make you laugh and feel better by cracking some jokes. A room that looked like a butcher, complete with fake hanging pigs? “I’m a vegetarian, do you have like a salad or something?” A dentist’s office “Will I get a sticker when I’m done?” And so on and so on. Every time an actor would jump out at you he would say “Hello!” in a cheery voice. Once or twice you heard him say “Happy birthday”. 

By the last room, you were laughing more than you were screaming and your heart was warm with the love you held for your goofball. He held your hand the entire time and made you forget all about the terror that was supposed to be flowing through your veins.

The last set of doors opened up and immediately you could breathe better, the fake fog not following you into the outside air.

“That was awesome!” Robin yelled, turning to look back at the rest of you.

“It was fun, I could’ve gone without Munson’s commentary though.” Steve ribs, sending a wink your way to let you know he was just joking around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Harrington, I’m hilarious,” Eddie replies.

“You really are.” You pipe up, placing a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek and sticking your tongue out at Steve one more time.

[chartreusevielle]

Gojo Satoru x OC

Pretty Ugly Marriage (before getting married)

When they first met, hate was an understatement. She loathes him.

"What's with that ugly face? Is that a mask or something? If so, take it off, that's so funny"

Fubuki Amari, loves her parents. To the point that she is willing to participate in a marriage interview just so she can lift up their families name in the jujutsu world again. Despite being aware that she is not the prettiest girl in line, she is pretty confident with her strength. After all that is what is listed in the Gojo Clan's letter, as the heir said,

"I don't care what they look like, I just want someone who's strong", and so here she is, listening to a bubble talk that slowly makes her burn in range.

'ah, i should've consider sending Yumi in here instead if I knew that this shitty brat wanted someone with pretty face instead'.

She then just sighs before replying,

"This is my face young master, I'm sorry if it bothers you", now just shut up, you piece of shit.

"It doesn't bother me, in fact, it makes me happy, are you sure you're not a clown?",if it was a normal 10 year old girl, they definitely couldn't handle such humiliation coming from a boy.

A boy coming from a strong clan, has strong power and has a pretty face. Gojo Satoru, in Amari's opinion is a definition of perfection,minus the fact that he is someone who can make hell burn after fueling it with few words.

This is the opposite of Amari, she's from a fallen clan, has average power which consists of absorbing curse by touching them,  and her face. Just like Gojo said, it's funny, because she has a scary face. The natural frown on her forehead that makes her look everyday angry, the frickles on her nose that push her face away from fairy skin, her droppy eyes that makes it look like she has small irises and the boring straight brown hair that makes her look like a broom with her thin and boney body.

"Even your voice is funny hahaha", the  boy continues to laughs as the adults around them can't help but to pity the little girl who just looks like she is so done with him already.

"What now? Aren't you gonna cry like the others?", He asked her as she just blink. So he's indeed doing it on purpose. Calling her names, basically bullying her.

'cry? Cry for what? Him, calling her ugly and funny?'

"Why? Do you want me to? ...young master?", The said boy huff as if he's irritated not getting the exact reaction from the girl.

"Yes, I want you to cry like an ugly person you are", Amari is currently praying to any God who can hear her, to simply give her patience, patience not to kill the boy in front of her.

"I want to cry young master, I wont lie", she said making the boy raise his eyes to look at her , "but i have more time to make my self strong that to drown my heart to something that i can't control"

'i can't ask God to edit my face, nor my figure even for just a little bit'

"Heh, you're showing your colors now don't you", the boy said as he mockingly grind at her.

'i can't ask anyone to protect me from heavy words I may receive from my face'

"I believe i never hide it in the first place,young master", she simply stated, not giving him emotions that he might make fun of again.

'i can simply accept, and bare with it'

"Hahaha, you're really funny, I've decided, I choose you kid, now be happy at my mercy" he looks so proud as a solemn grim appears on her face before silently cursing the boy at the back of her mind.

'i have no hero, other than myself, if so, then so be it'

"Thank you very much, young master", just you wait and I'll literally get even with you when I get stronger than anyone else.

"You better be", and I'll wipe off that grin off your face.

When they turned 13, things was never been better for Amari.

"You! I told you not to go to Satoru-sama, early in the morning!", she just blink as an elderly servant in front of her continues to yell early in the morning.

"But he says, we should meet at 6 am",

"Then tell him next time, you are busy! Satoru-sama needs his sleep and he doesn't have to be disturbed for a mere concept of meeting with you!",

'He's the one who planned our meeting though' Amari just thought and sigh, 'well, it is what it is, I don't care anymore'

It's obvious this old servant is looking down on her despite her position as his fiancé.

"I understand, I'll leave now", she said and turn back as she was about to step away, the thumbing sound of someone running down the hallways was heard, and suddenly..

"Amari!", the said girl, stopped her stepped and turn around, only to be welcome by a big grin of Gojo Satoru which makes Amari's eyes twitch.

'This guy obviously looks like he was eavesdropping just now'

"Where do you think your going?",

"S-Satoru-sama she is-",

"Who are you? I'm asking Amari, do you want me to fire you?", and of course things didn't end up good for the elderly servant.

---

"Satoru-sama, I think this will be dangerous",

"Oh come on, it's not like something bad will happen right? I'm the strongest after all", a body of a teen and an ego of a little child. I see.

The Gojo Premises is wide, so wide that it has it's own lake inside it's area. And this boy beside me thinks that's it's a good idea to practice his infinity in means of walking on the water like a holy man.

If you ask me, I think it's stupid,given that I know for sure he was dependent on his curse energy and was not taught how to swim since they all said nothing can touch him.

I'm riding a small boat to follow him while he is seriously walking above the water. But right in the middle of the lake, he suddenly stopped before looking at me.

"Amari?",

"What is it Satoru-sama?",

"I think I'm out of curse energy", my eyes widens as his body suddenly submerged under water.

How stupid, why didn't i think that even infinity has it's own interval, before it power up once again.

Shit, what should i do? Should I call for help? Should I swim down?!

But what if I die because of water suffocation? I don't want to die, I never want to but when I saw him falling deeper into the water, my body became fixated to follow him in the deep blue lake.

And so I dived.

Blue irises looking back at me as the water harshly hit my skin.

I want to yell, scream his name but the suffocating liquid stops me from crying out loud as I sway my hands to go deeper under the water.

Hands slowly reaching out to touch him, while he just stares at me making me worried that he might lose air under this depth of water . My eyes squinted in frustration before begging whoever God that can hear us to make this brat reach his hand so I can hold him.

'come on, give me your hands'

Looking at his now sleepy eyes falling deeper makes my heart almost drop.

No.no.no.no. Don't close your eyes!

'Give me your hand, Satoru!'

As if my prayer was answered,slowly but surely,his hands reach out to me as I immediately swim down faster and grasp it. Pulling him closer to my body before swimming upward with no further adieu.

As I look back to him my eyes widen when his blue irises are far closed and hidden.

Without further thinking, I put my lips on his to give him some air, just enough so we can swim together back to the shore.

Don't you dare die on me. I felt his grip on my body strengthen which give me a go signal that he had enough air before swimming back to the shore.

I gotta thank my father for giving me a strong body to overcome my fear and swim in endless water. And also the tough lungs.

I put all my physical energy to swim back faster and was able bring him back into the wooden boat.

I put him down gently before checking if he is still alive.

"Satoru-sama?",

No response. Damn do i need cpr? How do i do that? Pump the heart? Pump the water? Slap him? What should i do?

As i was overthinking, his eyes squinted before it fluttered and opened.

Sky irises, staring back at me making me almost cry.

"Amari?", I just smiled at him.

"Yes, Satoru-sama",

"My infinity returned the moment you hold me", i blink. Then...

"I just can't let you know given that you're so desperate to save me", i still stare at him.

I just wanted to beat him up. Really bad.

His irises find its way to look at me with his usual grinning face.

"Thank you though, now I really need to marry you, afterall you have given me your first kiss, still, I never think that an underwater kiss could be that romantic"

They were 13 and both of them realized something, one wanted to end this marriage shit and move on even if she'll be single for the rest of her life while the other one realizes that, he is now serious to the marriage he first offered, and there's no way he can let her go, not today nor in another lifetime.

'Ah I want to kill him'

'Should I prepare for our wedding now?'

@chartreusevielle

[babyminty]

Cgs Alhaitham & Tighnari/Littles Cyno & Kaveh

Finished my first Genshin oneshot for Christmas.

Cyno does get a small injury, but it is only mentioned in one line.

Tighnari and Alhaitham were out, and Cyno was regressed, which meant that caregiver duties fell to Kaveh. What none of the other three knew, though, was that Kaveh was an age regressor himself, and he was also small.

"Kaveh!" Cyno called as he ran up to him. "I wan play!" Kaveh, who had been sitting on the floor, stared up at him. Cyno blinked in confusion before his eyes widened as he came to a realization. "Kaveh small too?!" He gasped.

Kaveh shyly nodded. "How old?" Cyno inquired. Kaveh held up one finger, and Cyno gasped again. "I'm older! I'm four!" He said proudly. Then he stood there for a bit, seeming to be thinking as Kaveh just sat there, babbling to himself.

"What do babies do?" Cyno muttered, thinking, before his eyes lit up in excitement. "I know! We play hide 'n seek. You hide, I come find you." Cyno stated. Kaveh nodded along. "Otay..." He whispered, barely able to articulate the word.

Cyno grined. "Okay, you go hide, I'll count." Cyno turned around and started counting. Kaveh giggled, crawling off and deciding to hide in a cupboard.

It was the blanket cupboard and Kaveh got an idea. Giggling, he knocked the blankets down so that they covered him. Now he was warn and comfortable in the blankets as well as better hidden.

He heard Cyno moving around, having started to look for Kaveh. Kaveh sniffled his giggle as he heard Cyno walk past the cupboard and his footsteps retreating.

Cyno looked for Kaveh a bit longer before opening the cupboard. At first he only saw a pile of blankets and was about to close it, but he saw a tuft of blonde hair sticking out.

"Found you!" He exclaimed. Kaveh peaked out of the blankets, whining, upset about being caught. Cyno looked at the heap of blankets, and it gave him an idea. "Kaveh wanna make a blanket fort?" He asked. Kaveh's eyes lit up and he nodded.

Together, they carried blankets and pillows to the living room, placing them on the floor as they started to build the fort. It was nearly done, they just needed one more blanket. "Kaveh, get one more blanket, please?" Cyno asked. Kaveh nodded, crawling off to find another blanket.

He found a blanket and grabbed it, starting to crawl back to where they were building the fort. The blanket was dragging behind him, though, and caught on the leg of a side table.

Kaveh tugged at it, trying to pull it free, but unfortunately he caused the table to tip slightly. It stabilized, but unfortunately it had a vase on top of it that fell off and broke.

Kaveh was startled by the loud noise and crumpled to the floor, sobbing. Cyno rushed in, eyes wide as he took in the scene. He went to Kaveh, sitting down next to him and pulling him into a hug. "'S okay..." He said. "S-Sowwy!" Kaveh apologized.

"Not your fault..." Cyno soothed even though he had no idea what happened. His only goal was to calm down Kaveh. Kaveh continued to cry, but with Cyno with him, everything was less scary.

Even though Cyno was regressed as well, he was in an older headspace, around six now, and so after Kaveh had calmed down enough, Cyno picked up the blanket that had caused this mess, and after making sure there was no shards of vase on it, he wrapped it around Kaveh.

"Go to the blanket fort, I'll clean up." Cyno said. Kaveh nodded, scurrying away to hide in the fort.

Cyno started to clean up the shards. He was doing really well, all the big shards had been gathered and thrown away, and he started to sweep up the little shards.

Just then, the front door opened and Alhaitham and Tighnari walked in. Cyno glanced up, startled, spilling the shards that he had cleaned up. Tighnari and Alhaitham frowned when they saw Cyno.

Tighnari lead Cyno a bit away from the pile of broken vase and Alhaitham took over the job of sweeping it up. "Why are you cleaning that up? You shouldn't be doing that if you are regressed. You might get hurt." Tighnari stated.

"But it was broken. Couldn't just leave it." Cyno argued. !so Kaveh should be cleaning it up. He is meant to be looking after you." Alhaitham said, walking up beside the two, having finished cleaning up.

"Speaking of, where is Kaveh?" Tighnari asked. "He's in the blanket fort we made in the living room." Cyno answered. He was about to add on the fact that Kaveh was regressed as well, but before he could, Alhaitham frowned and made his way over to the living room.

"Nari-" Cyno started, wanting to atleast let Tighnari know, but Tighnari shushed him and lead him to the bathroom. Cyno was about to ask why they were there, but Tighnari had picked up a plaster and asked Cyno to hold out his hand.

Cyno did as instructed, and only now noticed the faint red line that stung slightly, noting that he must not have realised, but he got cut whilst cleaning up the vase.

Once the plaster was secured, the two exited the bathroom when they heard one of the bedroom doors slam shut.

Cyno jumped, glancing nervously at Tighnari. Tighnari's ears were perked up as he frowned. He took Cyno's uninjured hand and lead him to the living room where they saw an annoyed Alhaitham.

"What is the matter?" Tighnari asked Alhaitham after Cyno had let go of his hand and gone into the blanket fort. "I confronted Kaveh about making Cyno clean up the vase and he just looked at me, so I may have shouted at him a bit and he ran off." Alhaitham huffed, annoyed.

Tighnari frowned, concerned. "Can you look after Cyno and I'll go see what is happening with Kaveh?" He asked. Alhaitham nodded and Tighnari left, headed towards the bedroom with the closed door.

When he got there, he knocked on the door and got a mumbled 'Go 'way' in response. "Kaveh, what is going on?" Tighnari asked, going in anyway, worried about Kaveh.

Kaveh was a heap on the bed, covered in a blanket, but he glanced up when he heard Tighnari enter, and Tighnari saw the tears that were running down Kaveh's face.

"Said go 'way..." Kaveh mumbled, hiding himself fully underneath the blanket. Tighnari frowned, his concern growing. He went to sit next to the blanket heap that was on the bed. He pulled the blanket away gently so that he could actually see Kaveh.

Kaveh sniffled, curling tighter on himself. "Kaveh, what is wrong?" Tighnari asked softly, voice fill of concern.

"'Haitham mean... Wasn't doing anything..." Kaveh whispered. "You weren't doing anything?" Tighnari asked. If he didn't know any better, he would say thar Kaveh was regressed.

"Nu... Wasn't..." Kaveh confirmed. Tighnari sighed. "But you knew that me and 'Haitham weren't here today, so you were meant to look after Cyno today..." Tighnari explained gently.

"Bu Cyno older!" Kaveh whined. Tighnari's eyes went wide. "What do you mean?" He Asked. Kaveh didn't answer, he just curled into a ball.

Tighnari sat there for a bit, confused. Kaveh was acting a lot like he was regressed. Could he be, though? Tigh are wasn't aware that Kaveh could be a regressor.

"Kaveh, are you regressed?" Tighnari asked uncertainly. Kaveh uncurled just enough to give Tighnari a small nod. The room was silent for a few seconds before Tighnari sighed and scooped Kaveh up.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a regressor, love?" Tighnari asked. "Already have Cyno. Me would be too much." Kaveh mumbled.

Tighnari shook his head. "No, love, you would not be too much. Far from it. I'm sure me and Alhaitham are more than capable of looking after two little ones." Kaveh reluctantly nodded and Tighnari stood up, Kaveh still in his arms.

"Where going?" He asked. "Back to Cyno and Alhaitham so that we can all hangout together and solve any misunderstandings." Tighnari explained. Kaveh nodded in response.

When they reached the others, Cyno was in the blanket fort, perfecting it whilst Alhaitham sat on the couch nearby, book in hand, though he was paying more attention to Cyno, making sure he didn't cause any trouble.

Cyno and Alhaitham both glanced up as Kaveh and Tighnari entered the room. Cyno jumped out from the blanket fort and ran over to them, taking Kaveh's hand. "Come see the fort!" He exclaimed in excitement, wanting to show Kaveh their finished project.

Kaveh nodded, and Tighnari set him on the ground, letting the mentally older of the two littles drag the other into the fort. When they disappeared, Tighnari went over to Alhaitham, taking a seat.

"So what happened?" Alhaitham asked, and Tighnari explained all that had happened when he went into the bedroom to talk to Kaveh.

Alhaitham nodded in understanding,  looking guilty. " I should apologize for earlier." He said. Tighnari nodded in agreement.

Time went on like that, Kaveh and Cyno playing in the blanket fort whilst Alhaitham and Tighnari talked.

Eventually, Cyno popped out of the fort to inform the caregivers that he was hungry. Alhaitham got up to go make dinner, and Cyno went back into the fort where Kaveh waited, this time Tighnari being dragged along as well.

Once dinner had been prepared and the table set, Alhaitham called the other three to come eat. Cyno sat down quickly, the other two following him slower.

As they were eating, (well, Alhaitham was eating, Cyno was eating as well, though he was getting food everywhere, and Tighnari was feeding himself as well as Kaveh,) Alhaitham took the opportunity to apologize.

Though hesitant at first, Kaveh eventually accepted Alhaitham's apology, and for the rest of the night, the four of them enjoyed each other's presence.

[twidiarie]

I would rather be alone then be lonely

In a marriage arranged by two sets of families, a union, a tie between both branches

Brittle branches

To slowly or quickly fall in love, wouldn't that be lovely? Scary, but wonderful, yet I remain wary

Committing my life, this and a next to a man who barely knows me?

Leaving up my fate to destiny, riddled with uncertainty

Only God knows what will happen and I can only pray for the best

The thought makes me turn and toss at night, not able to get an iota of rest

I would rather stand naked and bare in front of a strange man than to axe open my chest and bare the seed, my heart, my vulnerable, tender, heart

Bury me alive without a casket, under heaps of dirt,

I'd rather choke on depths of soil than to unearth my soul, my love, from its roots and present my affection, my trust, the fruit it bears first

An offering of commitment, together forever

But humans are such fickle creatures, emotions come and go and explode and implode and change into one form into another, varying in intensity,

random and fleeting like the breeze that brushes past leaves gently or the storm and whirlwinds that tears them off brutally

What will I do when the man I love turns cold and distant suddenly?

marinate in my own solitude and spout melancholic soliloquies? Hibernate underneath, or burrowed in a nest up high from where I can not be seen or perceived?

What if he wakes up one day and decides I'm too much or too little, overbearing and annoying and emotional and plagued and diseased with weeds that cause constant turmoil

He is Goldilocks and I am every other porridge, not just right. I am not homeostasis, not stable, unbalanced and like streams of water, will constantly disperse

I am comfortable but I am not perfect I am imperfect and I am flawed and I am not a dream but not quite a nightmare I am far worse

I am boring, dreadful reality in a boring dreadful reality

The fruit I give will bruise and decay and rot at his feet and he will stamp on it with his heels and the juices will flow out and the fibers and pulp will seep through his toes and the pain of turning into mush will deform the once ripe once tender once sweet creature I once was

rotten fruit turns into wine, bitter, throat burning alcohol, a toxin and poison that flows through my insides, its existence like the shame of an endless stream of past faux pas

I will be used broken goods sold at a discounted price, in rotten barrels lined with mildew made from my own flesh, the wood, the bark, growth rings exposed and cracks shown, easily traceable,

my history obvious, my state irreparable

lucky to be sold, lucky to be bought, lucky to be wanted, I wager

Emotional vulnerability in the face of cold uncertainty is the little sapling who stands weakly in the face of winters unforgiving nature

Nature is cruel and nature is real and men are nature and their nature is cruel and it is real and loving a man of my own choosing when I am so young and so naive will be my own undoing

I fear of it, I fear of it

[maltmealo]

Chapter 20: Where do you bury your son?

"What's happening to him?"

"I-I thought it wouldn't follow me."

You learned that the fast strumming of a guitar had been a girl with pigtails around fourteen or fifteen, The cowbell had been a little boy with glasses and a missing tooth, and the water dripping had been the drive-through boy, Jack. They had found your unconscious body lying in the middle of the road with Doctor Sowa’s coat over you.

It was hard to hear their conversation over the ringing in your ears, it was something along the lines of what you had gotten when you first came here. They can’t leave you alone, it’s dangerous, Decepticons are now after you, yada yada yada-

Suddenly, a little hand clutches yours, a tight squeeze that almost cuts off the blood flow to your fingers. You look down to see the boy with glasses looking at Bumblebee. He was trembling and you could see the build-up of tears already welling up in his eyes.

Your gut twisted at the sight of the terrified child, you knew how it felt to be an adult and have this happen, let alone to be a child and be traumatized by this.

“Hey, mind telling me your name?” You kneel in front of him, blocking his view of the yellow ‘bot and taking his hands.

“R-Raphael,” he stuttered out, locking eyes with you and tightening his grip on your hands.

“That's a lovely name, Raphael, I'm (Y/N),” you introduce yourself. “I promise they won't hurt you, they're just big softies.”

“What do they want?” He whispered, shoving his dirty glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“They just need to make sure nobody hurts you, that's all, they're not the scary aliens, more like the ET aliens,” you smile down at the boy and he smiles back, albeit nervously.

“They're aliens?” The girl with the pigtails speaks up, darting out from between you and Jack to run up to Bulkhead. Jack grabbed her arm, giving her a sharp look before grabbing Raf’s arm as well and pulling them backward.

“Miko no- Listen, we appreciate you saving us and all, but we need to go.” He says firmly, pushing Raphael and Miko behind him as he stares up at Optimus.

“No way, you're in major danger now that you know of us,” Arcee says, talking up behind you and towering over the four of you. You stand back up, glancing back at her before looking back at the kids.

“Arcee is right, now that you know of our existence, I fear that as of last night, the Decepticons know of yours,” Optimus says grimly, kneeling to seem less threatening to the kids.

“Got it, we spot any strange vehicles, call 911- can we go now?” Jack says. His grip slips on Miko as she darts forward, turning around to face him.

“Are you insane? I'm living a dream here in Bots-wana and I will not allow you or anyone else to shatter it!” She crosses her arms, glaring at him.

“It is best that you three remain under our watch. At least until we can determine our enemies' intentions.” Optimus states firmly.

“Optimus. With all due respect, the human children are in as much danger - here as anywhere! - Children?! They have no protective shell! If they get underfoot they will go Squish!” Ratchet all but barks, setting the tool he was inspecting down and letting out an exasperated scoff.

“Then, for the time being, Ratchet, we must watch where we step.” Optimus stands up, turning to face the medic.

A sudden beeping brought your attention up to the monitor.

“What's that?” Jack asks, his grip loosening on Rafael.

“Proximity sensor, someone’s on top,” Bulkhead says, casting a glance down at Miko, who is now at his feet.

“It’s agent Fowler,” Ratchet confirms, pressing a button.

“I-I thought we were the only humans who know about you guys,” Rafael asks, letting go of Jack's hand to get a better look at the platform.

“Special agent Fowler is our designated liaison to the outside world, as he tends to visit only when there are issues. It may be best if you do not meet him at this time,” he scoops the children up and sets them behind the catwalk and out of sight. He then gently picks you up as well, bringing you up to see the elevator.

“Seven wrecks, thirty-four fender benders, a three-hour traffic jam, and on particular note numerous reports of a speeding motorcycle of unknown make and a black-and-yellow custom muscle car! So, anything you care to get off your tin chest, Prime?” You could hear his voice before the elevator reached the bottom and an angry-looking Fowler stepped out.

“We have the situation under control, Agent Fowler,” Optimus started before Fowler’s eyes landed on your bloodied and disheveled state. His face morphs from confusion to horror, to anger.

“They're back, aren't they?” Fowler gripped the rails of the catwalk.

“If you are referring to the Decepticons I have doubts that they ever left. Your planet is much too valuable.” Optimus replied, lowering you to the catwalk where Fowler helped you get off his hand.

“Then I think it’s finally time to wake the Pentagon, and she will have to come with me into protective custody,” he eased you onto the catwalk, taking mind of the several bloody cuts and bruises on your skin.

“Hear me, Agent Fowler. We are your best, possibly your only defense against the Decepticon threat.” Optimus protests, “She will be safer here than any safe house you could provide, not to mention we have the technology that could save her life.”

“Right, because she's obviously so safe,” he snapped back, sitting out down against the side of the elevator before turning back to Optimus.

“Hey! We’ve kept her safe here, and nobody got splattered on that freeway. Team Prime knows when to use force And how much to use.” Bulkhead protests loudly. Ratchet’s tool that had somehow gotten into his hand crumbled under the pressure of his grip.

“Bulkhead! I needed that!” Ratchet snapped, slamming his hands down against the table and turning to yell at him some more.

Their voices slowly began to blur together as you glanced down at the corner where the kids were tucked into. They were peaking around the corner, wide eyes with Jack’s hand around Miko’s mouth to keep her quiet.

Leaving felt out of the question now, there were now three kids thrown into the middle of this and you couldn't just leave them.

Suddenly, Fowler’s hand landed on your shoulder, gesturing for you to get up.

“You going to be okay here?” He asks quietly, kneeling and taking his hand off his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say quickly after a dumb silence. Maybe you were a bit concussed but who wasn't? “I trust them.”

He nods, standing back up and offering out a hand to get back up. Once up, he puts a flip phone in your hand, “Just call if you need anything.” With that, he stepped back into the elevator, slowly ascending to the roof.

You leaned against the wall when he left, swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. You could feel your broken body finally, maybe you were just far enough away that none of their fields happened to engulf you?

Your joints ached fiercely, swollen and throbbing from trying to drag yourself out of the alcove. You looked down at your fingers for the first time, Bruised and scratched.

“(Y/N),” Optimus rumbles, reaching out and offering his hand to you. You stepped on, not feeling like letting your soul bleed out again.

“I'm okay,” you muscled a smile, although you weren't sure if your muscles were listening to you.

“I’m afraid you are not,” Optimus’ brows furrowed deeper, moving you towards Ratchet, “Ratchet, please check up on her.”

He passed you off to the other giant gently, making sure to keep you upright and steady. Ratchet's digits curled around you and you were overwhelmed by the wind chimes once again.

“Optimus, we cannot take in this many humans,” Ratchet whispers just loud enough for you to hear. You weren't sure if he meant for you to hear it or not, but it did sting just a bit.

“We will not have more death on our hands,” Optimus asserts firmly.

“Then I hope you know what you're doing,” Ratchet mutters, reopening his palm and looking down at you.

He sets you down near the monitor, looking around before plucking up one of the blankets and holding it out for you.

“Here, take this and hold still, I need to get an accurate reading,” once you had wrapped the heavy comforter around your shoulders, he picked up the energy reader and began to adjust the settings.

“Um, is it safe for you to use that on me?” You ask, leaning back and staring at the device. After all, you didn't exactly want another hole in your soul.

“It's perfectly safe, what happened last time was… a terrible accident,” he promised. He glanced back at you, noting your barely hidden anxiety. “Close your eyes, it might help.”

“I did that last time and I woke up screaming,” you mutter. You close your eyes, feeling the same warm feeling wash over you.

The chimes were quieter now, almost to the point where it was inaudible over the humming of Optimus. The warm feeling slowly subsided and you opened your eyes to see the odd look on Ratchet's face.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, your face mimicking the now worried look everyone else was wearing.

“Is she okay?” Jack asked. He had gotten up to the catwalk and was now looking at you with a concerned look.

“Yes, yes, she is fine, she's better than before,” Ratchet nods, setting the energy reader down and turning back to you, “your levels are surprisingly high for what just happened.”

“Does that mean the hole is fixed?” Arcee cuts in, stepping forward from the back of the crowd.

“No, it's still very much there, her energy levels are just normal,” Ratchet mumbled, looking at the readings again. He looked back at you, an unreadable expression on my face.

“Cliffjumper’s shield has been modified,” Arcee announced, placing the device in Ratchet's servo and pointing out the slightly changed mechanism.

Ratchet goes silent for a moment, staring down at the device intensely. He finally nods, muttering something under his breath. He turns towards you, a look of Confused worry on his face.

“It looks like it's been modified to be a makeshift spark chamber, as long as it's on your person it'll serve as the barrier to the hole in your spark,” Ratchet explains, handing the device to you. “Cliffjumper saved your life.”

“I didn't know Cliff knew how to do that,” Bulkhead spoke.

“Cliffjumper was a mech of many secrets, it is best we focus on the positive,” Optimus announced.

“Explain this secret then, his signal’s back online,” Ratchet scoffed, looking towards the computer where a blue light was blinking on the screen.

“Who's Cliffjumper?” Raf finally spoke up, looking up at Ratchet.

“How is that possible?” Optimus asked.

“It isn't! This stupid human technology has another big! The systems choked full of them,” Ratchet growls, glaring at the screen.

“If there is any chance that Cliff is alive, we must do everything we must to bring him back,” Optimus announces, pressing the button to the ground bridge, “Ratchet, prepare the medbay.”

“Let me come! I have to know he's okay,” you blurt out, grabbing onto the railing and leaning forward. Your eyes lock with Optimus' optics and he shakes his head.

“No, you are recovering physically, I cannot allow you to go out in this condition,” he replies as Ratchet opens the ground bridge.

“This is my fault, I have to do something,” you protest, gripping the shield in your palm tightly. You look down at it, the thing Cliffjumper had given you to save your life. You wondered if it could have saved him instead.

“It's not your fault, and Optimus is right, you need to rest and you can help Ratchet from here,” Arcee speaks up, “please just stay.”

You watch as they go into the ground bridge, disappearing in flashes of bright green light. You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing away from the rails and leaning back against the wall.

“it's for the best, and I do need your help here,” Ratchet announces, offering you a smile before he gestures to the gaggle of children.

Miko was the first to walk- or rather run up to you. You barely had time to respond before she started rapid-firing questions.

“Are you a robot too?”

“Can you fire lasers?”

“Do you attach to their arms and become a gun?”

Yes. You were so lucky to be alive and safe with Ratchet and the children you now had to wrangle.

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 7/?

Part 7 and drawing to a close soon! I feel like there should've been more Graves scenes in MWIII ;)

Summary: Val tries to hold her own again Makarov but is unsure if she will be able to. Makarov can do a lot of damage in a little amount of time, can't he? There is smut in this chapter so MDNI!

Triggers: Implied (but no actual!) pregnancy loss, tipsy/drunk/intoxicated sex, threatened noncon (but no actual noncon). Let me know if I missed any, please!

Taglist: @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1 (thanks for the chats, as always! :) ), @lily-lily131313, @sharksausages, @shepgurl - if you want on or off the list, lemme know :)

Your blindfold was yanked off…

And there he was, right before you.

Vladimir Makarov.

And then he said something…the last thing you expected him to say. He said it in that characteristic Russian accent he was so well known for.

“Hi, Val,”

And it took everything in your not to cry and beg to be released. Because fuck this. You should’ve stood up to Graves and told him no, that you couldn’t, in your condition, be bait.

So you used your second language as a ploy. “Quien es Val? Ni me recuerdo de mi nombre y no se donde estoy.” You asked who Val was and told him you didn’t even remember your name nor did you know where you were.

And Makarov, the man of many tricks up his sleeve, surprised you when he responded in Spanish. “Te conozco, Val. Eres la puta de Graves, si?”

And that pissed you off. He said he knew you and asked you to confirm that you were essentially Graves’s slut, yeah?

“Go fuck yourself, Makarov,” and there, that line, and your lie fell apart. Fuck your emotions and your mood swings and your frontal lobe that refused to work ever since you found out you were pregnant.

And with that he smacked you. Hard. So hard you cried out and almost fell sideways.

“American brat,” Makarov spat with venom. He knelt in front of you, dark eyes looking downright into your soul. He was wearing a dark suit with a white shirt just visible under his bulletproof vest. “My men said you mentioned No Russian.”

“I was just communicating to your dimwits that I don’t speak Russian.”

Makarov smiled but there was no humor in his tone and the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Shall I make you scream like my men are doing to your Shadow friend?”

You shook your head.

Makarov reached out towards you and brushed your hair from your face. And you flinched.

“He tortured you, no?”

You met his gaze but you didn’t answer him.

“I know the look,” Makarov pressed on. “You broke,”

And despite your best efforts your eyes got watery and teary.

“I don’t think you could mentally or physically handle another interrogation, hmm?”

You shook your head and the action was enough to make tears fall down your face. “I’m pregnant,” as soon as you said it you wished you hadn’t because you didn’t feel Makarov would take any pity on you because of it.

Makarov laughed cruelly. “Graves’s?”

You ignored him.

“You’re too pretty for him, love,”

“Fuck off,” you snapped. You saw that by the look on his face it took everything in him not to hit you again.

“I believe,” Makarov paused before continuing, “that for some reason not only do you know something about No Russian but that you have valuable information about Shadow Company.”

“I don’t,” you lied. Now you didn’t know shit about No Russian but you knew a few ins and outs of Shadow Company.

“Your lies only serve to disappoint me,” Makarov said darkly. “Graves trusts you. You’re carrying his child, how could he not?”

You scoffed. “He hasn’t told me anything about his company.”

“I know you know things, Val,” Makarov stood. And he produced a firearm.

“What’re you doing?” you asked. Because this was getting scary. Is this how you were going to die?

“Clearly, you respond to harsher forms of questioning,” Makarov stated. “I shoot,” he took several steps away. “You vest catches the bullet. Worst case for you? Broken ribs.” He aimed slightly lower than your chest, towards your abdomen. “For that kid inside you? Probably worse results,”

“I don’t know anything about Shadow,” you reiterated, getting desperate.

Makarov’s gaze turned deadly and he loaded a bullet in the chamber. “How about I take care of that bastard child and fuck another one into you?”

And you sobbed, broke your brave, defiant persona.

“Don’t!” you screamed. You hoped your shriek would bring Shadows and Graves running.

You couldn’t take this, you couldn’t. You leaned forward as far as you could, trying to protect the child you were carrying. You’d rather be killed than lose that child although you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because that child offered you a chance at some sense of normalcy. Maybe because deep down you loved Graves with a twisted kind of love and that child was the only thing that might keep you together with him forever. You wanted a family, was that too much to ask? Fuck. Fuck.

And then.

Gunfire outside.

You took the opportunity with the added noise to focus on snapping the zipties behind you like Graves had taught you.

Makarov walked over to you and when he saw your hands were free he yelled at you in Russian. You assumed he was cursing you out. You dodged a kick, intended for your stomach, the homicidal bastard. And so when he reached for you, you launched a punch.

But missed.

All hell was breaking out around you and Makarov and yet here he was focused on you. Was it because he knew what a valuable hostage you’d make or was it because he knew about the fucked up relationship you had with Graves and that it would destroy him if he killed you? Or worse took you? Maybe both.

Shadows were targeting some of Makarov’s men and Makarov’s men were targeting Shadows by returning fire. Friendly fire was a real threat here as it was close combat.

Your ears were ringing and you were delirious with how tired you were but still…you fought.

In his bid to get you under control, Makarov was getting enraged. But you weren’t giving up because you weren’t fighting for you. You were fighting for your child and for the chance to see Graves again.

So when Makarov, a known war criminal and sadist, tried kneeing your in the stomach, you reached up and scratched his face. With force.

Makarov yelled in pain and in frustration and in rage. But it gave you enough time that your small frame was able to slip away. You tried crawling away but Makarov grabbed your ankle. The grip was tight enough to make you cry out in pain and you went from a position of being on your hands and knees to one where you fell flat on your chest and stomach, the force knocking the wind out of you.

Makarov then made quick work of twisting your ankle, making you scream in pain.

“I like that sound,” Makarov grinned sadistically as he yanked you back towards him. You scraped your nails and fingertips raw trying to claw the cold cement floor trying to find anything to prevent you from being pulled back to him. But he had you under him again and he straddled you, preventing your escape. He raised a hand, no a closed fist, that motherfucker was about to hit you with a closed fist and so you raised your arms up in front of your face in desperate bid to protect yourself when…

You heard a command from none other than Graves himself. And a bark. And then watched as Graves released Riley’s leash.

The look on Makarov’s face said it all. He knew when he was outgunned. Makarov was brave and liked risks but one thing Makarov was not was stupid. Makarov always wanted to live to fight another day. And he knew that Riley just might move too fast to be shot.

“I’ve caught your scent, Val,” Makarov grinned. “I will see you again.”

And then he was gone his men covering him with return fire.

And you could only lie there and cover your ears, curling in on yourself. Because Makarov was gone. And he was alive. And he promised to find you again.

Riley caught up to you and stood over you, barking and snarling when the enemy so much as looked at you.

“Can you walk?” Graves’s voice sounded muffled.

“I think my ankle’s broken,” you cried.

So Graves carried you. And you leaned into his touch as much as you could and passed out.

-

“Consider yourself out of the field,” Graves’s calm voice slowly brought you back to consciousness.

You were in a hospital. Somewhere. You never really knew where you were. Not since Graves took you anyway. Your brain did some drugged mental gymnastics and wondered if being a hospital meant you were going to be flagged and taken into custody again.

“Why’m I here?” you mind jumped to the worst. Had you lost— “Did I lose him?” tears filled your eyes.

Graves sat next to you and his scent, his body being in contact with yours brought you instant calm.

“What makes you think you’re having a he?”

“Mother’s instinct,” you replied.

“Well then,” Graves responded. “He’s fine.”

“Motherfucker got away, didn’t he?”

“Relax, Val,” Graves stated. “And no. We were pushed out by Makarov and his men. Still didn’t get my man back and they’re torturing him.”

“Sorry,” you said. Because you knew Shadow Company was like a family to Graves.

“Not your fault,” Graves comforted.

“It sucks,”

“You know what doesn’t suck though?”

“What’s that?”

Graves pulled something out a velcroed pocket on his vest. It was a small picture and he handed it to you.

“Since you insist on knowing through mother’s instinct, him,”

And that was the first time you were given an ultrasound image of the tiny life growing inside you. So you teared up.

“Why’re you cryin’?”

“Graves you have—”

“Phil,” he corrected.

“Phil you have a lot to learn about emotions,” you sniffled. You ran your fingers over the image.

“Now you know why I’m such a hard ass,” Graves stated.

You gave him a confused glance.

“You can’t take that,” he signaled at the small image, “from me.” He elaborated, saying, “And you’re sure as well not taking you from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. Where could you go even if you wanted to? It was either a military prison in the UK, Makarov, or Graves. You had no other options.

“No one will love ya’ll like I do, Val,”

You nodded. It was starting to sink in. So you returned the gesture. Partly because you meant it and if you were a hundred percent honest, you were still scared of the man. “I love you,”

“Besides, what’s not to love about you? You’re a bad ass,” he smirked.

“I’m in a hospital,”

“You held your own again Vladimir fuckin’ Makarov,”

“And he kicked my ass,” you continued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Graves interrupted. “You won’t be seeing him again because you’re outta the field. You’re workin’ intel from now on.”

You wanted to tell Graves that Makarov had threatened to find you, that he had pretty much told you he’d caught your scent like a rabid animal catches scent of prey.

And that terrified you. Because now, unlike months ago, you had a lot more to lose.

-

That night, thankfully, you weren’t plague by nightmares. You actually dreamt of when you first met Graves.

“They call me Val,” you extended your hand.

“That’s…mysterious,” Phillip Graves, the CEO of the private military group known as Shadow Company, smirked and winked at you and if you weren’t mistaken, eyed you up and down. He shook your hand strongly but you could tell it wasn’t even half his strength.

You smiled coyly and felt your face grow warm. Great. So you were blushing in front of your new commander and in front of your captain.

You were about to turn and walk away in shame. To go back to your room where you were going to scream into your pillow for acting like an idiot and full on blushing in front of your new commander and Captain Price. The last thing you needed your Captain thinking was that you were sleeping around again. You and Soap had gotten an earful about that a year ago.

“Looks like we’re the only two Americans on this leg of the tour, huh?” Graves’s voice drew you back and you turned back towards him.

You huffed a nervous laugh. And now you were the one who eyed him up and down. He was hot and tall and just all around fucking attractive. You wondered what he would taste like on your tongue and what he would feel like inside you. And your stupid self bit your bottom lip to prevent from laughing nervously anymore before answering, “Yessir,” tapping the American flag on the front of your vest.

“Price told me you speak Spanish, too?”

“Correct, sir,”

“What’re you doing tonight, bonita?” Graves drawled. He was eyeing you shamelessly and he was trying to make it obvious.

And you laughed nervously again before stepping closer to him. He smelled of cologne, aftershave, and gun oil and it only made him more attractive. You got on your toes and he must have gotten the idea that you wanted to whisper to him because he learned towards you.

“I was actually planning on sneakin’ outta here to get a drink,” you murmured.

“I’m game,” Graves responded.

-

And not too much later you were getting into Graves’s Jeep. You were both sans gear but like any other soldier you both still had firearms on your person.

You were sitting right next to Graves when you heard a familiar voice coming into the bar.

“’Mericans found it before we did,” Price’s voice almost made you choke on the drink you’d been nursing.

And you did choke, which made it harder to put some distance between you and Graves.

And at that point you discovered that Graves had wrapped an arm around your waist, making it even harder to scoot away from him along the booth seat. You didn’t plan to scoot too far. Just enough to dispel any rumors you two were thinking about hooking up.

“Captain,” you gasped out after finally catching your breath. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap joined him. And Soap being behind Price threw you a knowing smirk.

“Discussing business?” Price eyed Graves.

“Sir, yessir, business,” you said rapidly.

“Make sure she gets back safe, eh?” Price placed a hand on Graves's shoulder before he and the rest of the team followed their captain, leaving you to scoot right back over towards Graves who didn’t need to be told twice to put his arm around your waist again.

“Will do,” Graves confirmed.

-

You stayed at that dark bar with Graves even after Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had left. You weren’t drunk, just wonderfully tipsy and happy and giggly.

Graves helped you into the passenger seat of his Jeep and when he leaned over to fasten your seatbelt, you caught him with a quick kiss on the lips. He didn’t react outwardly but when he closed the door you saw he smirked to himself.

-

“What’re you doing?” you asked when he pulled into the parking lot of his own living quarters. Your quarters were a few more miles down the road. He wasn’t going to make you want home was he?!

“I don’t feel comfortable driving much farther,” Graves replied.

“Bullshit,” and just like that you had cursed at your new commander. Thanks to the alcohol you’d drank making you loose lipped. You weren’t drunk, bot by any means, but even one drink always made you braver, more open to speaking your mind.

“You can’t talk to me like that, soldier,” Graves’s voice took a stern tone.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Alcohol always makes me a little braver than I usually am.”

“Apologize to me some more inside,”

-

“You’re gonna run hot with all these clothes on, ya’ know,” Graves said hoarsely as he easily peeled your jacket off you. You had lied down on his couch and dozed off for what must’ve been a few minutes and woke up in his bed.

“If you’re gonna fuck me, fuck me,” you sneered at him through tipsy eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,”

-

In the span of less than two minutes you were on your fucking knees in front of Shadow Company CEO Phillip Graves. He had both his strong hands fisted in your hair and was moaning your name as you drooled over and licked his cock. Even in your silly, tipsy state you knew how to please a man. You hummed around his length, the vibrations making him moan and lean his head back, his hair falling off his forehead. You ran your tongue along the underside of his dick, using the tip of your tongue to flick the head.

Graves hissed above you and said, “Ah, fu—fuck,” all the while tightening his grip on your hair.

You sucked the precum right out of him, drawing another moan from him.

He glanced down at you, his golden brown/blonde hair falling onto his forehead again.

“Look at me, Val,” he commanded. “That’s an order,”

So you opened your long, dewy eyelashes and looked up at him. And what a sight you must’ve been. Your eyelashes were carrying some semblance of tears from when he triggered your gag reflex and your checks were flushed thanks to the alcohol and your…current activities. Your breasts still had the hickies he had sucked onto them earlier and you were on your knees, legs spread wide, with one hand on what was left of his length and the other between your legs, touching yourself as you blew him.

“I give you permission to touch yourself?”

He pulled his dick out of your mouth and you whined at the loss. You yanked your free hand away from between your legs. And your face was hot in shame. Here was one of your commanding officers with his hard cock right in front of your face while your were blowing him and you were touching yourself.

“Sorry,”

“You’ve been saying that an awful lot tonight, haven’t cha?” Graves stopped stroking himself and grabbed your hair before tossing you onto the bed.

“Go on, then,” he demanded. “Do it. Show me what a piddly little orgasm you can give yourself before I take over and get the job done,”

“Graves—”

“Say my name, baby, fuck yeah,” Graves moaned.

And despite the fact that you felt your face burn hot with some semblance of embarrassment, you also found this incredibly, unbelievably hot.

And you were a soldier so you started following orders. Your fingers made obscene noises as your sunk them deeper into you. You were fucking yourself on your hand and whatever shame you felt before was quickly being replaced by carnal need.

Graves watched intently, running his fingers over his length and sighing at the contact.

Your fingers curled inside you and you found that soft, cushiony spot inside you that made you gasp and see stars. You’d always been a little rough with yourself and so all it took to push yourself over the edge was pressure on your clit from one hand and a hint of fingernails on that spot  deep inside you for you to cum on your fingers.

You mewled your release, again saying his name, “Graves, fuck,” or rather moaning his name.

You thought you were going to be given a break.

But it wasn’t even a minute before Graves had his face between your legs, tasting you, drinking you.

“Graves, I need a break—”

“You don’t get one,” he smirked. “Since you like to cum so much you couldn’t keep your fingers outta yourself,”

So despite the fact that your legs were shaking and jelly, your wrapped your fingers around his hair and arched into his mouth. Graves had you coming undone in the span of 30 seconds. You saw spots in your vision and your vision also went black and white for a few seconds.

Okay, now you needed a breather.

“Don’t be selfish,” Graves snapped as he pressed his hot (probably painfully hard dick) against your entrance. “You on birth control?”

“Yes,” you whispered hastily.

Graves didn’t need to be told twice to slam into you so he did. And thank God you were the only two in that tiny shack and that the rest of both of your groups were some distance away because you screamed his name.

Graves put his hand, which smelled of you and him combined, over your mouth. Graves set a brutal pace. But could you blame him? He had probably edged himself repeatedly while you’d sucked him off, while you’d essentially fucked yourself, and then again as he tasted you.

So you whined underneath his thrusts and when he took his hand off your mouth he replaced it with his own mouth. He swallowed your moans and mentions of his name. Then his dick started hitting that spot deep inside of you repeatedly and roughly all while he also ground against your clit. It took a few rounds of that, maybe three or four, before you came undone around him. Your jaw dropped but now sound came out as you reveled and lost yourself in your orgasm.

Graves rode his own orgasm out as he held himself inside of you, groaning his own release before he gasped heavily. He didn’t collapse on top of you completely but he laid his head on your chest. And you ran your slightly trembling fingers through his hair.

What a surprisingly intimate act for two people who had just met a quick fuck, yeah?

[hugsandchaos]

“Giggle! Giggle!” Cyn said, watching her big brother zoom around the room. N paused his running in front of her and smiled.”Boof!” He said, doing a little stomp as if to emphasize it, which Cyn found to be very silly.”Giggle! Laugh! Laugh!” She cheered, throwing her head back and her arms up into the air. She began to lean too far back, but N caught her and pulled her back up.”Be caweful, li’l sis.” He said. Cyn reached up at his face and did the grabby hands motion.”Grabby. Hands.” She said. Not quite understanding what she wanted, N tilted his head to the side and reached for her so he could pick her up. Once she was in his arms, she wrapped her arms around him.”Hug.” She said. N smiled and his tail wagged.

In Cyn’s opinion, her big brother’s hugs could only be rivaled by Tessa’s. He’s not soft and squishy like her or other humans, but he’s definitely warmer. Plus, his hugs always give her and anyone who receives them a sense of protection. J’s hugs are also protective, but as stated before, N is always very warm, so he gets an extra few points for that. V’s hugs were always gentle and loving, and Cyn definitely enjoying receiving them.

Speaking of V, she was coming back soon to continue watching them even though N claimed that he had it covered. After a few seconds, Cyn looked up at N.”Can. I. Play. With. Dolls?” She asked. N let go of her and zoomed over to the toy bin full of dolls Tessa had for her and Cyn to play with. Instead of grabbing two or three, he picked up the whole bin and brought it over to Cyn for her to pick, his tail wagging the entire time as he felt very happy and proud of himself for making her happy. He even held it at an angle so that she could reach them better.“Thank. You. Big. Brother N!” Cyn said.

“You’we welcome! Boof!” He replied. Cyn reached forward and grabbed two dolls, muttering the word “grab” twice as she did. She moved to lay on her belly and N left to put the bin back.”Lay down. Play. Play.” Cyn said to herself. When N came back, he sat next to her and smiled.

After a few minutes of playing in her own little world and N constantly looking around the room, Cyn suddenly looked worried. She turned to look up at him.”You. Will. Protect me. From. Bad. People, right?” She asked. N didn’t understand where this suddenly came from, but he knew the answer.“Of couwse! Youw big bwodew N will always do his best to keep you safe and happy!” He replied, putting his hand up to his forehead to give her a playful little salute. Cyn felt better hearing that and smiled.“Smile, small. Giggle. Thank. You. You’re! The best! Big! Brother! Ever!” She said. N felt proud of himself hearing that and like zooming around in happiness, but remained seated by Cyn’s side.”Tank you!! Boof! Boof!” He said happily.

Outside the room, V was watching their interaction with Louisa, Tessa’s mother. Louisa put a hand over her heart and smiled.“Aww, he’s so sweet! Why didn’t you think me meeting him was a good idea?” Louisa asked. Suddenly, N shot up to his feet and changed his screen to show a stretched out X mark, which according to him, happened whenever he was ready to attack. He put himself between Cyn and Louisa and stood up at his full height, which was only a few inches shorter than Louisa. His tail raised up and was pointed at her threateningly as his mouth stretched out into a scary smile with sharp fangs. Louisa stared at him for a few seconds. Truth be told, she was quite intimidated by his response to hearing her. V grabbed her arm and pulled him out on N’s line of sight.“Cyn said he’s terrified of humans, but he’s okay with Tessa, so I think it’s just adults. Or any human bigger than him.” She said. Louisa nodded to show she understood.

[blue-rose-soul]

Always happy to oblige,i personally tought the line was a little cheesy but, hey i'm not wrong!

But about changing alastor's powerset,if you think about it, is perfectly possible to, well not exactly change, more like expand his powerset just by looking at one of his principals (or so i believe) motifs: the Wendigo.

Because seriously the skinny long body,the canibalism,even the deer motif that they have been gaining in the last decades,the inspiration looks pretty clear to me! Not only that but i always thought that,everytime that i look at the image of one they always seem to cast an aura and atmosphere that darkens and cools their surroundings making everything seem ...dead, which seems exactly the opposite of the aura that Hazbin Lucifer brings, his powers always seems to make everything brighter,warmer and livelier.

So for me, as Alastor becomes more powerful, his powers(dark,cold,death,profanity) seem like a reflection and perversion of Lucifer's(light,warm,life,holiness) seems like the perfect idea. Not only that but even without the deer motif,wendigos are always depicted almost like twisted corpses suffering from frostbite,which drives even more the thought that without lucifer's light to guide him, Alastor lost himself to the cold evils of humanity and allowed it to twist him into a monster.

Gahhhh! I can pratically see the fatherly angsty RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!

Al's really going hard for that "rebel angsty yougest son" prize isn"t he?

To be perfectly honest, I don't like associating Alastor with the w*ndigo. That being belongs to the Algonquin-speaking people, and it's not just some random scary monster. It's an actual religious figure. And a dangerous one at that.

But even if that weren't the case, it simply doesn't fit Alastor's background. Alastor is a mixed race Louisiana Creole man. His ancestors would have come to the United States from France or Spain or have been brought over as slaves. The Algonquin people, on the other hand, consist of several different groups who all historically lived in northern parts of the modern United States and eastern Canada. While Alastor could have had some Native American ancestry, it likely would have been from a different group altogether, not one of the Algonquin groups.

And while w*ndigo are popularly depicted in modern media as having antlers or being a deer-like monster, that's really more of a misconception. It resembles a sort of walking dead, gaunt, with ice for a heart or else entirely wrapped in ice.

So, to sum things up, the w*ndigo is:

Not my culture.

Not Alastor's culture.

Not a deer.

And, yeah, I'm aware that there's a bit of a double standard here, given Alastor's depicted as a vodou practitioner. I had him grow up Catholic for a reason, although since the vodou is a part of his established character, as well as the culture he would have grown up with, I don't want to cut it out entirely.

All that said though, I am leaning heavily into the parallels of light and dark, creation and destruction with Alastor and Lucifer. It's like Alastor's a symbol of everything the elders of Heaven expect Lucifer to be. Alastor would hate being called the 'rebel angsty son' but it's absolutely 1000% true! Guess he and Luci have something in common after all.