#it’s the same thing that happens to dogs when you snap a photo of them while it’s dark — their eyes glow a different color

[dogsrot]

fenrir who loves taking pictures vs the flash constantly causing his eyes to glow and ruin the photo

[not-neverland06]

𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Next Part - Hell Hath No Fury Series

A/N: my stupid poor-people photo editing app stopped working so now my cropping is all off and I'm sad. My aesthetic 😭

Summary: Something brews between you and Arthur, but as always, the camp comes first. Despite the growing tension, Arthur must leave to rescue one of the gang who'd been separated in Blackwater. Jealously brews as a loud-mouth Irishman returns to camp and sets his sights on you.

Micah’s cough echoes through the camp and you wince at the sound. “He needs to see a doctor before he gets the rest of us sick.”

Arthur shakes his head and sighs, “Caught somethin’ from the Downes fella in town.” He passes you some coffee which you take eagerly. It’s part of a strange morning ritual you’d begun with him a few weeks ago. Just after the hunting trip, you’d taken to having breakfast with him if he happened to be in camp that morning. It’s become your favorite way to start the day.

You smirk slightly and nudge his side. “You’re welcome.”

He laughs and shakes his head at you, “I’m sorry?”

“Well,” you start with a teasing tone. “If I hadn’t needed a gentlemanly escort into town for some shopping, it would have been you calling in on those loans.”

He opens his mouth to argue but it stays hanging as you see the cogs turning in his head. He snaps his jaw shut with a reluctant sigh, “Suppose you’re right.”

“I always am,” you tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Arthur just laughs, passing you some bread. You hear a familiar set of footprints pacing outside the tent and roll your eyes, turning towards the entrance. 

Sure enough, Mrs. Grimshaw paces around the perimeter of Arthur’s tent like a cougar. She sniffs when she catches your eye and turns her nose to the air, wholly pretending she hasn’t been stalking you. 

“Shoo!” Arthur shouts, waving her off. 

You let out a bewildered laugh, smacking his arm. “Arthur, stop,” you hiss, but you don’t sound very stern as you giggle at Mrs. Grimshaw’s affronted look. 

“Go on,” he keeps going, pushing her further. “Get,” he snaps like he’s talking to a wild animal. Mrs. Grimshaw says something you can’t quite catch and stomps her foot once before running off. 

You press a hand over your mouth, fingers pinching your lips to try and stop yourself from laughing. Arthur looks at you for approval and you only shake your head. “Come on,” he tries, “she’s been botherin’ us all mornin’. What was I supposed to do?”

“She’s not a dog, Arthur.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” He teases and you swat at his arm again. 

You shake your head, letting out a heavy sigh. “I truly think she hates me,” you whisper, pouring yourself a little more coffee. 

“She don’t hate you,” he reassures. You tilt your head with a deadpan look and he chuckles. “Well, maybe just a little.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Just because I married rich doesn’t mean I had an easy life.”

“I know that,” he objects. 

You look up from your mug and furrow your brows. “Do you? You think I don’t see the way you look at me? You see the same softness they do. I just can’t figure out whether you like it or resent me for it.”

The playfulness of the morning is long gone. You seem to have a knack for ruining the moment. This question, though, has been haunting you for a while. Dutch is passive in his disdain for your upbringing—snide comments here and there but nothing quite so obvious. 

A few of the girls question you about the privileges of being a lady a little too long for comfort. Then, the conversation will end with one of them sniffing and saying, “Must have been a nice life. Too bad you’re stuck with us now.” 

There are always small moments like that to break the ridiculous idea you’ve got in your head, that you belong. No matter how hard you try to tell them, they don’t seem to understand that this freedom is better than anything money could have bought you. Your life hasn't been your own since the moment you were born. Sure, being on the run from the law and fighting for every penny wasn’t fun. But moments like these with Arthur would never happen if you were back at your estate. 

With the others, it’s easy enough to see their resentment. But Arthur’s better at keeping his cards close to his chest. It took a while for you both to settle into something easy like this. Most of the time you don’t spend more than half an hour together a day. You don’t have a good enough read on him to determine whether or not he holds your past against you. 

Sometimes, you think you might see just a hint of bitterness when he catches a glimpse of the smooth skin of your palms. But you never know if that’s real or something your paranoid mind has conjured up. 

Arthur swirls his mug in his hand, a bit of the coffee splashing over the edge as it does. You squirm uncomfortably in your spot beside him. The sun has begun to heat up the canvas tent, but you know that’s not why you’re sweating. 

He gives you a gentle smile that eases some of the dread building up in your chest. “I don’t care either way. And you shouldn't give a damn what the rest of these fools think. It’s what you’ve done with your life, with your money, that matters.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “You mean my father's money, and then my husband’s money. It was never mine. That’s why I care what they think. I’m dealing with their judgments every damn day and they know nothing about the truth of it all. I was a commodity, practically cattle to those men.”

Arthur’s brows furrow in that familiar way they do whenever you talk about the men of your old life. It doesn’t bother you to talk about them because you’re used to it and they’re gone. But you know it makes Arthur angry to think about it. 

You’ve grown comfortable with each other, but it’s still a cold shock when he casually touches you. You glance down, eyes wide, as you see his palm covering your own. You look back up with a soft smile. “You’re smart, Arthur. Smarter than half the people here give you credit for. And far kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. " Your heart kicks up a beat when you see the way he refuses to meet your eye. 

You’ll compliment him a million times a day if only to get him to start believing you. And maybe so you can keep watching that pink flush on his cheeks. 

“That’s enough of that,” his voice is gruff with something you can’t quite name. Having enough sense to know when to stop you hold your hands up in surrender. 

“Only saying the truth,” but you never can seem to stop yourself from pushing just a little bit further. Arthur shoots you a sharp look and you bite your lip to keep from laughing at him. You can see him start to wind up and prepare yourself for the brief scolding you’re about to receive. Once he’s done with that, maybe you’ll do what you’ve wanted for so long and ask him to accompany you to Strawberry. 

You’ve been trying to work up the nerve as your last two outings haven’t gone wonderfully. You’re hoping a redo might help the both of you grow just a little closer. Besides, being away from camp seems to be beneficial to you both. 

Approaching footsteps bring your conversation to an awkward halt. They’re not the heavy foot of Mrs. Grimshaw. This is someone else, someone much more welcome. You turn and smile at Charles as he hovers at the entrance of Arthur’s tent. Arthur scoffs and mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite make out, but it makes Charles grin. 

Charles gives you a brief nod but his intentions are meant for Arthur. “Whaddya want?” Arthur snaps impatiently. 

“Trelawney came back,” Charles answers shortly and your face pinches in confusion. Trelawney? You roll the name around in your mind but you don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone in camp mention him. 

Arthur’s head perks up, the frown on his face softening just ever so slightly, but it's replaced by something more bitter. Curiosity or nosiness, you’re not sure, but rather than give in to the rules of common decency you don’t leave them to finish their conversation alone.  

You try to lean back, pretending you’re not there so they’ll keep talking. “The hell did he want?” Arthur barks, tone still rudely short. You wonder what happened between him and Charles, they seemed to get along well enough a few weeks ago. 

Charles's gaze darts briefly to you but he continues, “He’s got news about Sean. Says he knows where to find him.” Now, that name you know, if only through vague mentions. You know Karen does her damndest to keep a mention of Sean out of everyone’s mouths. And that he made it out of Blackwater alive but got separated from the rest of the gang. Other than that, you don’t know much about him. 

Arthur gets to his feet and Charles backs away a few paces, leaving the two of you relatively alone again. Arthur looks down at you, something like disappointment on his face. “You need to go,” you assume before he can say anything. 

He nods and you give him an expectant smile, “Then you better get moving, cowboy. I’ll be here when you get back.” He lingers for a moment like there’s more he wants to say. But your mornings together have always been short, you can’t imagine why that would have changed today.

He sucks in a sharp breath before nodding and heading towards Charles. You watch him go, your plans for the day being tucked away. You’ll ask him to town another time. As long as it’s anywhere but Valentine. 

A prissy throat clears behind you and your head sinks between your shoulders with a heavy sigh. “Time to get movin’,” Mrs. Grimshaw commands, with far too much glee in her voice. 

You’re sitting on an overturned bucket, running someone’s pants across the washboard. You hate doing this, especially in the brisk of the early morning. Your fingers have already pruned up from the frigid water and you can barely feel them anymore. 

Your gaze drifts to your right, where the heaping pile of laundry lies, and you consider running off with Lady. You know whatever other chores Mrs. Grimshaw would come up with in retaliation would be a million times worse, but it almost seems worth it at this point. 

You dismiss the idea, deciding to honor the unspoken rule of ladies staying in camp, and continue scrubbing. You think this might be Arthur’s blue shirt. You notice a few fraying edges and holes and make a note to fix them up for him once it’s dry. You only hope you don’t stumble across Uncle’s clothes while you’re doing this. That man has got stains in places that make you want to throw them in the fire, rather than wash them. 

“Never gonna get used to a sight like this,” Sadie calls out as she walks up behind you. She kicks a crate over and throws herself down beside you. 

“You will soon enough,” you let out a bitter chuckle and shake your head, “Mrs. Grimshaw’s got some vendetta against me.”

Sadie shrugs and picks at some dirt under her nails. The sun seems to crest just perfectly over her head, almost making her blonde hair glow. She seems to be getting better. She’s put some space between her and the O’Driscolls and has found a place in camp just a little easier than you. 

Still, you know she’s struggling. She wants the freedom that your friendship with Arthur and Charles has granted you. You know she’s feeling cooped up here at camp. You’ll have to invite her for a ride sometime and see if that will help ease some of her anxiety. 

“Nah, it’s not just you. That old hag hates me too. She thinks I’ve got ideas above my station.” You and Sadie turn, glaring at the back of Mrs. Grimshaw who is fussing at Lenny. You shake your head with a huff of laughter and turn back to the laundry in hand. 

“I miss Jake,” Sadie suddenly blurts out. You freeze, hand still partially submerged in water as you debate how to approach this. Sadie’s always preferred the blunt way of going about life. You don’t think she wants simpering sympathy right now. 

“Which parts of him do you miss?” You ask, trying to keep your tone light as you toss the shirt into the basket beside you. 

“The non-controlling parts.” Sadie nudges your side with a laugh, “Relax, I’m not gonna start cryin’ on ya. I just miss runnin’ my own house, not being bossed around by a son of a bitch like that,” she says, motioning vaguely towards Mrs. Grimshaw. 

“She’s not much better than my husband was,” you grouse, trying to drown out the woman’s voice. 

“Ooh,” Sadie groans, tone laced with long-held resentment. “Forgive me for sayin’ it, but he was a real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help the grin that curls at your lips as you straighten up, momentarily abandoning the laundry. “You’re not my employee anymore, Sadie. Say whatever you want.”

“Right,” she shrugs, “He was a real bastard and I hope he became wolf meat.” Your lips pull back into something resembling a smile, but it's not fully there. You imagine the blood of your husband on your hands and it doesn’t fill you with the usually stifling nausea. Instead, it’s like a distant ache. You’re either growing numb to it or finally accepting that you’ve done the world a favor. 

You suck in a deep breath and nod, “I hope the same.” Sadie lingers for a little while longer, not helping with the clothes, but keeping you company. You don’t talk about anything of much substance. Mainly her irritations with everyone in camp and you echoing the sentiment. She doesn’t like Pearson always trying to force her to cook with him and you hate being his taste tester. It doesn’t matter how much seasoning he adds, he doesn’t know how to make even half-decent stew. 

When Sadie eventually leaves to finish her chores and you’re left all alone with your thoughts, you realize just how painfully slow the day passes by. You almost find yourself dragging the laundry out just to provide you some distraction from waiting for Arthur to come back. 

You’ve both been lingering on the edge of something. You need to see if it’s all in your head or if there might actually be hope for the both of you yet. 

You glare down at the basket of laundry at your feet and let out a heavy sigh. You reach for another shirt and begin scrubbing, keeping a careful eye on the camp’s entrance. 

It’s not until the sky is illuminated with glowing swirls of orange and pink that Arthur and the others come riding back into camp. You’d run out of chores a long while ago and had just been restlessly pacing since then. Every time you so much as approached Lady someone would come by and distract you with some meaningless task. 

You’d been sitting in the tent for the past hour, barely reading a book as you pray time moved faster. You stand now, hearing the cheers and whistles of the others. You move around the canvas, smiling when you see Arthur leading the men back into camp. 

There’s a man on the back of Diablo, a loud-mouthed redhead that you’ve never seen before. You can only assume this is the infamous Sean they’d been after. Judging by the look on Arthur’s face, you imagine he’s been running his mouth the entire time since they rescued him. 

He looks about ready to put a bullet in the young man as he drives him into camp. You see the others all taking notice of their return, Dutch being the loudest of them all. “Sean MacGuire!” He approaches Arthur’s horse, giving the boy a hand down and grinning widely. “Welcome back, son!”

His thick Irish accent catches you off guard, “Oh, ‘appy to be back, Dutch! ‘appy to be back,” he responds eagerly, a large smile on his face.  

You hesitate by the fire, waiting for Dutch to finish before you go darting off towards Arthur. “I do think a return like this requires a celebration!” Dutch calls out to the rest of the gang. They whistle and cheer for him, Bill already rushing off to break out the alcohol. The gleefulness of the moment catches up to you, it eases away some of the anxiety balling up in your gut and you find yourself cheering along with the others. 

Dutch keeps Sean tucked under his arm and begins to parade him through camp. You know this is a win for all of them. Even if someone here hadn’t liked Sean, getting one over on some bounty hunters is always a morale booster. Whatever your opinions on Dutch may be, you have to admit that he knows how to lead his people. 

Even if you happen to think manipulate is a better word for what he does. 

You watch Sean interact with everyone in camp, drawn into the boisterous energy he wraps himself in. It’s clear some of them are already beginning to find him a little annoying. But even his smart comments can’t seem to put a damper on the spirits of the night. 

Your mouth ticks up slightly when you see Lenny slug him in the shoulder, yelling at him for letting himself get caught. You divert your attention away from the interaction, looking for Arthur. You feel a little bit of the giddiness give way to disappointment when you realize you’ve lost sight of him. 

He’s no longer by the horses, Diablo having been hitched long enough to already start grazing the grass. You peer around the women’s tent and then take a few steps towards Arthur’s but he’s nowhere to be found. 

Just as soon as you let yourself be disappointed by this, you also chastise yourself for becoming so infatuated. You’ve always had a bad habit of getting in your head and boosting your hopes up over something mundane. You’ve only just begun forming a friendship with the man and already you’re starting to fret over him. You’re not a schoolgirl anymore, you’ll have to grow out of this at some point. 

You rub a tired hand over your face and suck in a deep breath. The aromas of camp rush over you in a wave. You can still smell the remnants of burnt morning coffee amidst the ever-present scent of the campfire and the fragrance of laundry that lingers on your hands. You can no longer tell if the mingling of odors comforts or irritates you. 

You look up to the shining stars above and pray for a semblance of sense. Wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders you resolve to get over this infatuation with Arthur and just enjoy the night. If anything is meant to happen, it will do so naturally. 

Dutch walks towards you as you begin to head towards the domino table. You force yourself to stop when you see the expectant look on his face. Sean trails along behind him now, already seeming to have found his way into some of the liquor. 

 “Mrs. Rowe!” Dutch calls out loudly, you give him a polite smile and he motions towards Sean. “I don’t believe you’ve met my good friend, Sean MacGuire. Mouthiest gunman in the west,” he adds with a smarmy grin.

You shake your head and hold your hand out to the boy. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. And please, no need to be so formal.” You give him your name, and he perks up. Stumbling forward and attempting to shake the drunkenness off, he turns your palm and kisses the back of your hand instead of shaking it. 

You can’t help but laugh a little at his performance. Molly suddenly calls for Dutch across camp and the three of you turn to face her. “Dutch, over here for a moment!” She waves him forward and Dutch lets out a long-suffering sigh with an easy smile. 

“Duty calls, I believe the two of you can entertain each other for a little while.” He turns towards Molly, arms wide as he calls out, “Now, Miss O’Shea, what ever can I do for you?”

Sean quickly snags your attention again and you realize that he’s yet to let go of your hand. “Not a missus, eh?” He asks, his eyebrows waggling with what his drunken mind must think is seductiveness. 

You stifle a giggle and shake your head no. “‘Fraid not. He’s not been gone long, but I’m happier for it.”

“Oh, and so am I, fair lady.” You shake your head with amusement. He’s nearly charming with all of his limitless swagger. “Now, I’ve just been cooped up in a camp with about fifty men with mugs nearly as ugly as these,” he motions towards the gang and you let out another unbidden laugh. “Would you care to dance with me?”

Your brows furrow, a disbelieving smile on your face. Leaning in, as though you’re sharing a secret, you tell him, “There’s no music.”

He pulls a little bit back from you, meeting your eyes as your breaths mingle with proximity. “Are you sure?” He asks, a mischievous look on his face. 

You find yourself frowning in confusion, and then, almost as though they had planned it, Dutch puts a record on. It’s scratchy on his worn player, but the music fills the camp as he leads Molly into a sway. 

Your lips part in astonishment and you forget for a moment just how close the two of you are. If anyone else saw, they’d think you were going to kiss. “How did you know he was going to do that?”

He waves you off and leans back. “Magician can’t reveal and all that,” he dismisses. “Now, a dance?”

You’re charmed by him, as much as you hate to admit it. Perhaps he doesn’t have quite the same effect on you as Arthur. But he’s handsome in his own way. Besides, who are you to deny a magic man a dance?

You let him lead you towards the fire and he draws you close. You’re surprised when his hand stays firmly on your waist and he keeps a nearly respectable distance between you both. You’re still what modern society would call a scandal, but this is nothing for a gang of outlaws. 

“I’m sure I’ve never met you before. Where did they find you?” Sean spins you out and then twirls you back into his arms with a flourish that makes you breathless. You almost ask him where he learned to dance before you remember to answer his question. 

“Up in the mountains. Some O’Driscolls came through, killed my friend’s husband, and kept us in a cellar.” You’re no longer surprised how easy it is for you to admit something like that. You’ve become desensitized to situations like your own the longer you’ve been in camp. 

“O’Driscolls,” Sean’s face twists up with distaste and he shakes his head. “Nasty business.”

You scoff, “You’re telling me.” Sean’s gaze drifts behind you and the little color on his pale skin drains. It makes the freckles speckling his cheeks stand out remarkably. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Cutting in, MacGuire,” a rough voice calls out from behind you. Your feet still from where they’d been following Sean’s lead and you risk a glance over your shoulder. Arthur paints a fearsome portrait against the night sky. Impassioned by the sight of him, with the brim of his hat tipped low and the fire casting shadows across him, you hastily drop Sean’s hands and step back from him.  “I’d go find your lady if I were you,” Arthur instructs Sean.

Confusion swirls through you before you spot a very angry, very drunk Karen walking past. “Rotten Irish bastard,” she mutters under her breath, shooting both you and Sean a nasty look. Sean chases, taking quick steps towards Karen without another word to you. 

“Karen, it meant nothing, sweetheart. I only wanted a dance!” You let out a loud laugh as you watch him scramble after her. 

“He’s a damn fool,” Arthur says through a chuckle, walking closer towards you. You smile, turning around and flicking the brim of his hat up so he doesn’t seem so imposing. 

“You stole my dance partner, Mr. Morgan.” You accuse lightly, pretending to be cross with him. 

He rolls his eyes with an attitude you rarely see from him. “I did you a favor. You don’t want to get involved with Sean.”

“No,” you tell him, “of course I don’t. I was only dancing. Can’t do that anymore now, can I?”

Arthur’s mouth opens and closes before he lets out a huff. “Well, you two seemed awful close. I thought that-” he cuts himself off and you frown. 

You were only teasing him. Had he actually thought you were interested in pursuing Sean? You’d barely known the boy an hour. You pause, taking a step back and really getting a good look at Arthur. His shoulders are tense, though, not as tense as they had been a moment ago. The anger on his face, when he approached, had been real and not just the fire playing tricks. 

The pieces connect one by one and you find yourself astonished. Arthur Morgan had been jealous over you. 

That had to mean something. You couldn’t be reading into something like this. You might be a little desperate, but you weren’t a fool. You feel a flutter in your stomach and swallow down nerves. “Dance with me?” You ask, in a breathy whisper, sounding much more confident than you are. 

His eyes widen and he grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m no good at stuff like that.”

You bite down your smile and lean forward, taking his hand in your own. They’re rough against the smooth surface of your palms but you relish in the feeling. “Neither am I. It was the one class I never managed to get the hang of in finishing school.”

You coax him forward slowly, drawing him into you and guiding his hand a little lower on your waist than you should. He takes your other hand in his own and leads you into a slow dance. It’s barely anything more than a sway, but you still feel exhilarated. 

Even with the warning, it’s still a little surprising how awful you both are at dancing. “Even if you're stepping on my toes Arthur, I’m still much happier to be dancing with you,” you tell him, sincerity coating your throat like honey. 

He looks away from you and sighs. “Don’t have to say that.”

Your brows furrow and you tilt your head, catching his eye. “Why would I lie?” He doesn’t respond, caught off guard by the question. 

“Well,” he starts slowly, finally facing you again. He laughs a little at himself and shakes his head, “I don’t know why you would.”

“Because I wouldn’t,” you retort. “I don’t want to dance with anyone else, Arthur.” You know that sometimes he doesn’t always catch the hidden meaning, but you’re hoping he understands this time. You don't know if you could be any more brazen than you currently are.

His brows furrow and you can practically see the dots connecting when you begin to hear it. Low grunting noises, something almost like a whimper, slip out of the closed flap of John’s tent. You both pick up on it at the same time, movements slowing until you come to a complete stop. You stand, tucked into Arthur’s chest, and listen to what seems to be two people having a lot of fun. 

“Is that-”

You’re cut off by a very loud, “Sean!” You gasp, hand covering your mouth as your eyes widen. 

“Oh, Karen,” he sounds on the verge of tears and you practically have to bite your tongue to not laugh. You bury your face in Arthur’s chest, feeling it shake as he lets out a loud chuckle. “I’ve missed you so much!” You hear him begin to cry and force yourself to turn away before they hear you both laughing at them. 

“Oh,” Arthur’s face screws up with disgust but he’s still laughing. “That’s just awful. Come on,” he keeps your hand in his, tucking you under his arm as he leads you away from the tent. He snags a bottle of something off a nearby crate as he guides you toward the trees bordering the camp. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we don’t have to listen to that,” he mutters, nodding back toward the sinful tent. You clench your eyes shut, trying not to picture what the two of them are doing. 

You feel your feet sink a little, mud lifting around the edges of your boot. You reach to lift your skirts, out of instinct, before you remember you’ve got your new pants on. It makes you smile a little, living without the weight of your old clothes. 

“Arthur,” you stumble into his back as you trip over a branch and he quickly rights you. “Were you jealous?” You don't give much lead-up, hoping to shock the truth out of him. 

He pauses and turns back to look at you. You smile a little impishly at him and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “This way, woman,” he grumbles, tugging you towards a thinner patch of trees. You find yourself squeezing his hand absentmindedly, liking the comfort of holding it.

The moon illuminates your path forward and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. He’s led you to a small cliff face, a spot just large enough for the both of you, that feels incredibly intimate. The moon almost creates a halo around the area, lighting it up more than anywhere else in the forest. 

Arthur lets go of you to tug off his coat. He places it on the ground and motions for you to sit. So used to fending for yourself and always being the last priority, something as simple as that has your heart skipping. “You didn’t answer my question,” you tell him as you take a seat. 

He sits beside you, knee brushing against your thigh as he pops open the bottle of whiskey he’d swiped. He twirls it around in his hand for a moment before he places it down beside himself. Your stomach dips when he turns towards you, eyes intensely meeting your eyes. 

You almost want to look away, the blue of them too intense to face. There’s honesty in his gaze and an intention you can’t recognize that forms a lump in your throat. “Yes. I was.”

Your lips twitch and you shake your head, slightly bewildered by how easily he admitted that. “I’m jealous every day I don’t get to call you mine,” he adds.

You used to be someone else’s. First, you were your father’s toy and then your husband's. When they called you theirs it was always with the intention of owning and using you. But it feels different with Arthur. It feels like handing him your bruised heart and knowing he’ll keep it safe. He says those words, and finally, you know that someone other than yourself is looking out for you. 

His hand comes up, gently brushing some hair off your cheek and drifting down to the nape of your neck. You lean forward, following his guidance, as his head dips down. Your lips meet, and the warmth emanating from him makes you realize this is truly happening. 

Cold from the stone below you seeps through his jacket and chills your legs. The feeling only further intensifies the startling realization that this is real. This isn’t one of your silly little fantasies. He’s kissing you and you aren’t doing anything.  

You sit before him, stiff as a stone, not kissing him back or showing him any sign you’re enjoying this. He picks up on that and you can already taste the apology on his lips as he begins to pull back from you. So you dart forward, clumsily pushing your lips up against his before you completely ruin your chance. 

He laughs against your eager lips, but you feel his relief in the way his shoulders slump and he relaxes back into you. One of his hands drifts down towards your waist, tugging you slightly closer, and you could melt into the feeling of him holding you. 

He tightens his hold around you, drawing you back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “You sure you want to get involved with me? It ain’t gonna be easy.”

Unwilling to part for so long, you close the distance between the both of you and finally, let yourself give in to the sensations of this moment. His palm drifts into your hair and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. 

Perhaps due to his gruff outlaw exterior, you’d had the misguided notion that he wouldn’t be a good kisser. Men like himself seem like the type not to enjoy something as simple as a kiss. They’re used to just getting right to the point. You’re happy to discover just how wrong you were. 

Those romance books Mary-Beth devours always describe something fleeting. There’s always fireworks going off as the two people you’ve been reading about finally kiss. This isn’t like that, there isn’t a spark that reignites a cold heart. You feel safe and comforted, like you’re finally coming home. This feels real, not like some passionate moment shared between two people that will never last.

Arthur pulls back, reluctantly, and you both catch your breath. “We should probably head back soon,” he whispers, eyes trained on your lips.

You nod your head, “Probably.” Neither of you goes to move, instead you tighten your hold on one another, basking in the moment of finally having what you’ve been coveting for so long.

Next Part end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Hell Hath No Fury Taglist: @buckysblondie @littlebirdgot @heloixe @summerdazed @committingcrimes-2047

@m1stea @pokiona

[imrllytootiredforthis]

yandere chan

summary: once again, basically sub yandere chan x dom reader hcs

a/n: there is many stalkerish topics and toxic behaviours in this (so read at your own risk), there is also mentions that could be read as a strap or the real thing-whichever you prefer

i do not condone this sort of behaviour, this is purely for amusement purposes and should not be done in real life nor' should be normalized

Did you notice Chan from the very beginning?

probably, yeah.

he made himself very apparent as the shy, cute, guy in a few of your classes. the boy next door typa vibes

you were friends with a bunch of his friends, he was friends with a bunch of your friends, so you knew of him though you never really hung out with him in any type of one-on-one kind of situation

was he completely gorgeous and so very adorable and look so entirely fuckable?

yeah. yeah he did.

but that was just it, you wanted to approach him, ask him out, bring him home at the end of the night

but he seemed too...innocent, too naive, too virgin-y

the golden boy

and you didn't want to corrupt that

you didn't realize how completely wrong you were until later on

completely unaware of the fact that he's had your entire schedule memorized from the get-go

that the reason anyone you've talked to never called you back and avoided you if you saw them again was because of Chan

he isn't the type to ask you out, babyboy's too shy and self-conscious for that,

instead he'll stalk and watch and hope that you'll get the clue soon enough

as he waits he'll probably steal your things, little trinkets, clothing like hoodies and shirts, perhaps some underwear if he's feeling extra confident

but he always feels really bad when he takes those

he has photos upon photos in his camera roll of you. enough to make a folder labelled just your name

most of them are not even remotely sexual,

some of you laughing with your friends-stolen from your friends's instagram account, from your instagram account

some of you smiling widely with your classmates

some that have been group pictures that his friends have sent to him

some of them he's taken himself, secretly snapping a few when you're not aware

he has so many, his own personal collection of just you and as gross as he feels when he does it-he'll look at them and get off

he can't touch himself, never does. he feels too dirty to do that, feels dirty and guilty about the entire situation altogether

but sees you and he just can't help himself

can't help but imagine how good you'd look standing over him, telling him what to do.

making him hump your leg

it so humiliating, so revealing and degrading as you look down at him unimpressed, the disappointment in your eyes making him whimper

you'd pet him too, pushing his hair back

"such a dirty dog; getting off on my leg like you're in heat, you poor thing~"

you'd tease him and make fun of him, bully him until he cums, melting against your leg out of breath

a mess all over your leg

you'd click your tongue at him, rolling your eyes before forcing his head down to lick up his mess

the fantasy gets so intense sometimes he feels like it's really happening

he's so hard and needy, body aching to be touched but too guilty to do it

so his go-to is humping his pillows or his bed. your clothes a victim with either his face buried into the fabric, smelling your perfume or your cologne or your natural scent

or he fucks into the clothing, obsessing over the thought of you catching him in the act

his face flushed, guilt stewing in his gut, eyes locked on yours. even if they're only through the screen of his phone

he begs and begs and begs to the phantom of you, his lust-addled brain conjuring up images, fake realities that aren't real to feed into his delusions that he could be yours.

it's only when you go on a date with someone that he decides he needed to do something

a guy from your class. decently handsome and looked kind of like Chan when you squinted slightly

it would all look the same, really, in the dark of your room as you made him moan under your hands.

the date goes well. but maybe that's because he has an aussie accent and when you look just beside his ear you can pretend it's someone else

you end the night a good note too, kissing him on the cheek and making him promise that you'll go out again sometime

Channie does not like that

he's been watching all night, hatred boiling in his gut, glaring hole into the guy's head, wishing that he'd drop down dead in the middle of the restaurant

he threatens him as soon as you're inside, telling him that he needs to leave you alone or else

spoiler alert: it doesn't work and you go out with him again

and again

Chan doesn't like that. not one bit.

you get upset when you're stood up by him for the first time after only three dates, checking your phone every few seconds as you sit in your apartment, waiting for him to pick you up

he never does

you call him and text him but he doesn't reply

awhile later you see that he blocked you on everything

he never does talk to you again and you wonder why

for the rest of the night you sulk, heading to a nearby bar, having a few drinks until someone taps you on the shoulder

turning around to find Chan smiling sheepishly

asking if you need some company for the night

you accept, eagerly ordering a few more so that he can catch up to you

which ends up with him getting extremely drunk

turns out he has a very low alcohol tolerance. it also turns out that he becomes extremely horny when he's drunk

extremely drunk, extremely horny and extremely happy

because it's the night Chan finally gets what he's been wanting for such a long time.

panting and clutching at your shoulders in the dark corner of the bar, sloppily making out with you

whimpering about how he's dreamed about this for years, muttering between kisses how he can't believe this is happening

opening his legs for you in such a public place-you briefly wonder if you were wrong about him being innocent all this time

until he tells you that he is a virgin, not that he hasn't had offers, it's just that he wanted to save it for you

he wanted you and only you to take his innocence,

to hell if it's in a dirty pub right next to the toilets, if there are eyes watching him-watching you, that you're as drunk as he is and still sad about being ghosted

it needs to be now

he cries with every thrust of you inside of him, his walls clenching making it harder for you

every little touch feels like it's overloading his senses, making his head feel fuzzy and the room feel spinny

and while it might be the alcohol that's causing it, it also might be the need he's had ever since the first time he saw you

the want and the desperation and the high he feels after everything he's done, it's finally happening

he whispers a lot of things to you that night

things that scare you, things that turn you on, things that make you angry at him and things that make you wanna ruin him even more

he confesses every one of his dirty secrets to you

he asks you then if you could still love him after all this, if you would still want him

and to his surprise, you don't get that angry, you do however, expect him to make up for his...wrongdoings

babyboy spends months at your beck and call, doing whatever you please whenever you please

trying to prove himself to you, that after all he's done he deserves to be with you

making him doing humiliating things like wearing a vibrator to your date

fiddling with the controls as he squirms in his seat, trying to hold it in long enough to order his meal albeit stuttering and tripping over his words the whole time

having him wear lingerie under his clothes when he goes out to hang with his friends, the lace hugging his body tight-a remanent of you even if you're not there

and even though you don't ask him to he shows up at your apartment every morning, with flowers or gifts or a compliment ready on his lips, offering to drive you wherever you need

sends you texts throughout the day, informing you of every little thing with an adorable kind of elation

you'd forgiven him long ago, if you'd ever even been mad at him to begin with,

it was just cute watching him stumble around trying to fulfill your every wish

though that still doesn't change when you finally make things official

he probably cries when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he just can't help it, he loves you so, so, so much

Even if his definition of love being a tad overbearing,

he definitely changes a bit when you're actually dating

a little bit more possessive, a little bit more clingy mixed in with a dash of paranoia whenever you’re around someone else that isn’t him

a lot of his shyness goes away when he's with you, ready to do whatever it takes to have your attention on him, willing to do anything that you tell him to

focusing on the former:

He really just can’t help but imagine how you’d look with them

You wouldn’t be happier with them, would you?

No, you love him, you love HIM

not them, not your coworker or best friend, not any one of his band mates or some random person you met at a social gathering

It’s Chan that you love

He’ll stay quiet sometimes, he knows that you need people in your life other than him. he knows that he can’t satisfy every one of your needs that all of these other people do

But that doesn’t make him stop wishing that he could

he tolerates most people (mostly because of your scoldings and punishments when he hasn't) but he still can't help the rage that comes when he sees someone actively trying to get into your pants-ESPECIALLY if they KNOW you're with Chan

of which he will 'encourage' them to leave you alone later on

though he'd really rather not have to do that. it gets kind of messy and you always get angry with him afterwards

so it's good that he's okay with most people,

it doesn’t stop his possessiveness or clinginess but at least he's not going tooooo overboard

If you’re shorter than him he’ll come up behind you and wrap you in a big bear hug, arms around your waist, face in your neck, peppering kisses all over your skin

If you’re taller than him he’ll have no problem pushing himself into your arms, 

coming up in front of you and hugging you, taking your arms and throwing them other his shoulders

“Pay attention to meeee~”

face still in your neck, kisses still all over your skin,

No shits given for pda or how the person you were talking to beforehand is reacting at him cutting off the conversation,

and if you happen to giggle or laugh at his antics his heart will skip a beat, face growing warm with the sound, encouraged once again, to do it the next time this happens

There is very little that will dissuade him even if you don't like it

if you don’t like it he won’t pick up subtle cues or discomfort, 

or more like he’ll PRETEND that he doesn’t get them

You’ll have to be straight up and tell him if you really want him to stop

He’ll give you the saddest, most hurt puppy dog eyes but will reluctantly listen to your wishes

he can never bring himself to do something that will hurt you or make you upset in any way

Afterwards when you get home is where that jealousy comes pouring out

jumping you the second you’re in the door,

the only time babyboy will ever purposely brat out, he’ll welcome any punishment you give as long as it’s you paying attention to him

Not anyone else

Would actually die if you ignored him

That’s out of the question for punishments,

he could never take you pleasuring yourself while he’s tied up across the room, 

he would probably cry and not in the way that either of you like

he doesn’t care how hard you hit, how mean you are, how torturous your punishments are,

ignoring him is a no-no

And bringing someone else into any part of your relationship is too

Sexual or otherwise

The thought of someone else touching your skin, making you moan in the way he does, also makes him want to die.

End of story

If you try to bring it up at all he’d probably just ignore you, give you silent treatment until you apologize 

And then make you PROMISE-PROMISE, PROMISE, PROMISE that it’ll never happen

That he’s the only one you’ll ever be with

Again, sexual or otherwise

but he wouldn't be against it if you were to say, fuck him in front of someone he was jealous of

having the other person watch as you praise him, giving him a slow handjob

his head going into overdrive as he makes pretty noises, all with the knowledge that this person would never get to be in his position, only a watcher to what Chan gets and they don't

He loves you so much and loves the way you make him feel

he gets quickly obsessed with that sense of freedom that you can give him

He’s stressed and overworked, locking himself in his studio for who knows how long, 

starving himself for who knows how long

At the end of a long week he’s all pent up and tired, barely able to stand up on his own two feet and make complete sentences

Much less take control during sex

And more often than not when he comes home after said long week he’s in subspace the second he hears your voice,

quite literally from the second he steps inside the door he just feels himself slipping, overtaking his head with every step he takes, pushing himself deeper and deeper

He just wants to curl up in your arms and let you take care of him, force his mind somewhere else

jerk him off and call him puppy, anything you want, anything at all

He absolutely loves to be called puppy or babyboy, he really doesn’t know which one more because either will have the same effect

Mostly it’ll be paired with him calling you mommy or daddy

he's not big on master or mistress, ma'm or sir just because they don't have the same amount of comfort mommy or daddy has

It makes him feel safe and warm and cared for 

Even if you are edging him for the sixth time tonight with no reprieve in sight 

He’s a bit of a pillow princess but that’s okay because he looks so pretty just laying there and taking whatever you give him

He loves the control you take from him, forcing the decisions out of his hands, your rules becoming the only thing he cares about,

that floaty feeling in his head when you strip him of all of his responsibilities and anxieties

Your comforting hand and sweet praises,

the knowing that he can fall into it and leave the overwhelming reality of his world with you right there to take care of him

He no doubt uses his submission, subspace and sex as a whole really as coping mechanism for when everything becomes too much

Which is unfortunately more often than not, can make things overwhelming for both parties

It’s not very healthy but he thinks that it’s mostly him that’s being affected in a negative way 

He doesn’t account for exactly how much of a toll it can be on you as well 

He probably won’t notice either until you outright tell him, sit him down and give it pointblank

He feels horrible when and if you finally do though

But he is a bit selfish

So I doubt many serious changes will be made, if any at all

If things do change, don’t expect them to stay that way long, slowly enough that you might not even realize it everything will fall right back into the place it was before

he does give really good aftercare though, wrapping his arms around you, ignoring how tired he is to ask if you need anything

even if he's practically braindead, his legs still shaking he's trying to clean you up, trying to wave you off with weak hands

he gets really sleepy but doesn't like to actually sleep, instead he likes to lazily talk to you, words slurred, voice low and heavy

about anything, everything

most of the reason he doesn't want to sleep is because he never wants this moment to end

him in your arms, his head on your chest, your lips leaving soft kisses all over his forehead and hairline

telling him you love him

he swears his heart will burst out of his chest

this is all he's ever wanted

all he's ever dreamed of

to be with you

a/n: okay after this one i'm going to do lixie and then maybe hyunjin...? i'm not fully sure yet after felix's but yeah, hope you enjoyed!

--if you get tagged, or see this again that's because this is a repost because it got put under the community label before even a full day was up

taglist is open now here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades, @hahagay, @lino-jagiyaa, @missrobyn81

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

May you do some rottmnt boys headcannons for how they would react if Draxum tells them that they were y/n pet turtle before he stole and mutated them

It feels weird to write this with a romantic relationship so Im going to make this plutonic.

Raph Leo Donnie and Mikey finding out there are the readers old pet.

🐢 Anime boy backstory 🐢

Before Draxum started the mutation process, before he got ahold of Splinter, he needed some actual test subjects. You where an average New Yorker, you went to school and had a part time job and even had some unique pets that you where very attached to.

A alligator snapping turtle, a softshell, a red eared slider and a little box turtle. Draxum took interest in you because of your pets. Huginn and Muninn where sent out to find the perfect animals to mutate, that's when you where targeted by him.

On your way home from a trip to the vet to check up on your little guys health you got jumped. There was no possible way to get out but you where not about to leave your pets. You tried to run but after being picked up by Draxum's vines you got thrown against a wall, passing out. When you woke up your beloved pets where gone.

Raphael

★ He was the one who tracked you down after Draxum told him he once was someone's pet. It was kinda awkward expanding everything to you but after introducing himself you immediately pulled him in for a hug.

★ He kinda gets protective of you. But not from other people! Just in general, you took care of him when he was small. It's only fair that he does the same for you.

★ You and Raph end up being the responsible ones in there little family. The difference between getting in trouble with You instead of Raph is that you always lecture them for at least an hour. Also you get to say stuff like "I raised you better than this."

★ You get invited to every family movie night and everyone fights over who gets to sit next to you because you always cuddle with the closest person. turtle?

Leonardo

★ The reaction he had was similar to the one in in the gif above ⬆��. Yes, he was a plane old turtle once but it took him by surprise when it came out that he was a pet.

★ He's a total lap dog towards you, and only you. There's no getting out of it. He'd walk up to you and plop himself down on your lap and look up. You always give in and give him shell stitches. It's not weird if it's from you, okay!

★ His brothers collectively agree that you are now basically his babysitter. He gets into a fair amount of trouble, imagen Raphael saying "if you don't stop I'm telling y/n!" Or being the one who now yells at him after making bad discussions instead of raph.

Donatello

★ Blank face before quietly saying "What?" He knew that he was just a regular softshell but surprisingly he never thought about where he came from before getting mutated.

★ He gives you random tests on your knowledge of softshell turtles. Like you could be folding laundry and he'd just say "what is the proper temperature for a softshell turtle enclosure?" He does this to try and figure out if you where a good pet owner. He's come to the conclusion that you where a pretty good pet owner.

★ He wonders about what could've happened if Draxum never stole him and his brothers from you. Things could've turned out way differently, the thought comes back to him every once I awhile.

★ You know things about him that nobody else knows, like where he likes to be pet on his shell. But he refused to believe you without any proof. He is only slightly embarrassed when you demonstrate for him.

Michelangelo

★ *New parent acquired* He got really excited and asked a ton of questions. Did you get him from a pet store? How much did he cost? Do you still have his old habit??? He needs to know theses things!

★ If you have any photos of him and is brothers as regular turtles he's going to ask for copy's. Don't tell anyone but he's working on a family album in his free time.

★ You are now his older sister figure, no you aren't getting out of it. He comes to you when he needs help or has a problem with something or someone. He says that he inherited your kindness even though it doesn't work that way.

★He lowkey love's it when you pamper him like he is still your pet turtle. Doesn't matter if he's a big guy now! He wants chin scratches and lap pillows. Also he makes Draxum apologize for what he did to you.

[scriveyner]

chase forever down 21/31

chase forever down | 21/31 | bungou stray dogs | 👿🐯 / sskk | #smarch 🔞| ~2900 words

Nakahara Chuuya, Port Mafia executive, glanced over the photographs spread across his desk, chin in his hand as his eyes flitted across each one. He didn’t hurry but let his gaze linger, and his gaze sat for a very long time on one in particular before moving on.

Continue on AO3 or:

Akutagawa stood motionless in front of the desk, arms folded. Atsushi was a little more actively involved, having refused to recognize anything that happened earlier; he had his palms on the far edge of Chuuya’s desk as he leaned over it, watching him carefully review each photograph.

Finally, Chuuya came back around to the photo he lingered on the longest, tapping it with his gloved finger. “This one,” he said, picking it up and turning the photo between his fingers, showing it to both Atsushi and Akutagawa simultaneously. It was the girl with pink hair, the exact same one. Out of all the pictures spread across his desk, Chuuya picked her. There was a hint of a smirk on his face, as he said, “she’ll know where Dazai is.”

Atsushi looked back at Akutagawa, startled. “How do you know that, Nakahara-san?” Chuuya tilted his head and leveled a glare at Atsushi, and Atsushi stuttered and ducked his head sheepishly. “Sorry. Chuuya-san.”

Chuuya sighed and flipped the photo around between his fingers, before flicking it so it landed, face-up, atop the other photographs. “Reina Volkov,” he said. “One of the Children of Judas.”

The name meant nothing to Atsushi, but he saw Akutagawa’s shoulders tighten like a string had been yanked through them. He stared at Akutagawa for a moment, before looking back to Chuuya, awaiting the explanation.

“You’re sure?” Akutagawa said.

“As sure as shit.” Chuuya folded his arms and sat back in his desk chair. “Tussled with her in Eastern Europe a few years back. Wouldn’t recommend.” He blew out an annoyed breath. “Pretty sure she quit the business, so I don’t know what she’s doing here now.”

“What are the Children of Judas?” Atsushi asked.

“Werewolves,” Chuuya said. “A whole clan of them, specifically dedicated to exterminating the pureblood vampire lines.” He looked up when he realized that Atsushi was staring at him. “You do know about the whole vampire thing, right…? I mean, I would hope so, considering how close you two are, now…”

Atsushi flushed red to his hairline but refused to acknowledge it as well. “Werewolves are real?”

Akutagawa snorted. “Weretiger.”

“That’s my ability,” Atsushi snapped back at Akutagawa, who still wore an expression of light amusement. He stared at the picture. “So is she an ability user too, or just the werewolf thing?”

Chuuya put his elbows on his desk, and chin in his hands, disregarding the question completely. He gave Atsushi a considering look. “You might actually be a match for her,��� he said, thoughtfully. “She gave me a run for it my money, but I was also more concerned with not getting my ass bit. Life’s weird enough with Dazai lurking around like the undead ghoul he is.”

“The last thing we need is for him to get bitten by a werewolf as well,” Akutagawa said.

Chuuya gave Akutagawa a long, scrutinizing look. Atsushi looked at Akutagawa, whose cheeks had gone slightly pink. “Atsushi,” Chuuya said. “Does Akutagawa feed from you?”

Atsushi straightened. He looked between them again, and couldn’t read a single signal coming from Akutagawa, which was weird enough, but Chuuya’s tone gave him pause. Finally, he sighed, and said, “yes.”

“How often?”

“Uh…maybe once a week, now? Ish. I have Yosano-san draw my blood so he has blood bags whenever he needs, and I don’t get sick again—”

Chuuya leaned forward, pushed his hand into his hair, and laughed. Atsushi and Akutagawa looked at each, and Chuuya shook his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Chuuya-san?” Atsushi asked because he didn’t think it was that funny.

Chuuya waved his hand in the air, dismissing it. “Blood bags,” he wheezed. “Did Dazai shit himself? I bet he did.” He wiped a tear. “Jesus fuck, you two. It’s adorable.”

Atsushi wrinkled his nose because he didn’t know what was adorable about it, either, but Chuuya was still chuckling, clearly amused. Akutagawa shifted behind him, and now Atsushi could feel the irritation rolling off him clear as day.

“The weretiger has consumed my blood, as well,” Akutagawa said, darkly, and Chuuya abruptly stopped laughing.

“What?”

“I’m not a vampire, though,” Atsushi said, two seconds before Chuuya lunged across the desk and grabbed him by his tie, yanking him forward. Atsushi yelped, going up on the balls of his feet, but it was quashed by Chuuya prying his mouth open, running a gloved finger behind his teeth, clearly looking for the fangs. “PUUYAFAN!”

“How in the living fuck are you not a vampire if you’ve had his blood? Even I haven’t fucked around with Dazai’s!”

“Kind of why we were looking for Dazai-san in the first place,” Atsushi said, once Chuuya’s fingers were out of his mouth. “And I still, uh…” he flushed, very red, and looked away. “Want his blood.”

“Well, that’s definitely not normal.” Chuuya released his tie and Atsushi sank back down to his feet. “What happens when you get it?”

“Nothing,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi shot him a look. “Don’t look at me like that, weretiger, you were only feral before you had it, not after.”

“Have you ever heard of someone desiring a vampire’s blood like that?” Chuuya sat back down in his chair finally, a frown on his face now as he stared at the pictures without seeing them. “A normal someone, at least.”

“The weretiger is not even remotely normal.”

“Point taken.”

“Hey,” Atsushi said.

“I’ll look into it,” Chuuya said, finally, lifting his head. “In the meantime, both of you, be careful about this. I really don’t want to have to deal with the fallout if either of you goes batshit feral and starts killing people en masse, got it?”

Atsushi, wide-eyed, said, “that can happen?”

“A lot of things can happen,” Chuuya muttered, tapping his fingers. “And somehow, I always end up having to clean them up. Can’t have the grunts finding out Dazai is a vampire, nooooo.”

Atsushi cleared his throat. “If this person who hunts vampires has Dazai-san,” he said, trying in vain to get their conversation back on target and off him, personally, “how do we even know he’s still alive at this point? He’s been missing for well over a week.”

“Since your Agency isn’t up in arms searching for him, he’s likely compelled everyone,” Chuuya said, thoughtfully. “That doesn’t stick if he’s dead. Also,” he added, tilting his head at Akutagawa. “He’s still alive.”

Atsushi blinked. “If Dazai-san dies…” he looked at Akutagawa, stricken.

Akutagawa’s mouth twisted. “That’s not true,” he said, softly. “Dazai-san’s sire is dead, and he still lives.”

“Dazai has been a vampire longer than you,” Chuuya pointed out.

“Not that much longer.”

“Regardless,” Chuuya said. “Our first order of business is to find Reina Volkov.” He tapped the photo still lying face-up on his desk. “And I think I know just how to do it.”

=====

Atsushi looked at the new number in his phone again, and then sighed and flipped it closed. He was somehow accumulating the personal numbers of the top echelon of the Port Mafia and at this point, it wasn’t even the weirdest or most concerning thing in his life.

It was evening now. Akutagawa had taken him all over the place in exiting the headquarters, but now they were finally outside, walking freely on the streets. “You said something,” Atsushi said. “Earlier.”

“I said a lot of things, weretiger.”

Akutagawa kept stride with him, a comfortable presence at his side. Atsushi looked at him sidelong. “You said Dazai-san’s sire was dead.”

“Mm. I did.”

“How do you know that?”

Akutagawa returned the sidelong look. “You’re not curious who his sire was?”

“Does it matter who it was?”

The corner of Akutagawa’s mouth upturned, and he exhaled in amusement, hands in his pockets. He stopped and turned in toward Atsushi slightly, and Atsushi stopped in surprise. “Every time I think I have you figured out by now, weretiger, you throw something new at me.” He tilted his head, eyes wide. “I know that Dazai-san’s sire is dead because I killed them myself, in the vain hope of ending my own curse.”

Atsushi didn’t flinch at Akutagawa’s intense gaze, and he nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“Did you? Do you think you know me so well, weretiger?”

“I know you well enough by now.” There was something crackling between them in this moment he didn’t quite understand, it felt weird and heavy and not quite like animosity. “You’re used to this life by now, but you would still go a long way to free yourself from vampirism.”

Akutagawa scoffed quietly, tilting his head away, but didn’t deny it.

Atsushi folded his arms and stared down Akutagawa, the amber light of sunset painting the sidewalk in shades of orange. “Would you kill Dazai-san to be free of your curse?”

Akutagawa stared right back at him; face carefully neutral. “That question is irrelevant. If killing Dazai-san’s sire did not remove the curse from him, killing him won’t remove the curse from me.”

“What if killing me freed you?”

For the first time he saw something change behind Akutagawa’s eyes. The skin around them tightened, and he looked away angrily. “Another irrelevant question.”

“It’s not irrelevant,” Atsushi said, quietly.

Akutagawa turned back to face him then, eyes stormy, jaw clenched. “I will not—” he started, but cut himself off and looked away again, arms folded. “Your death will not save me, weretiger. At this point, nothing will. You already belong to me, and I will destroy anything that attempts to drive us apart.”

Atsushi touched his face, and this startled Akutagawa. He drew back slightly, leaving Atsushi’s hand to hang in midair before he dropped it. “I’m not your possession,” he said, and wet his lips.

“I know that weretiger, I—” Akutagawa seemed startled at the words falling out of his mouth but didn’t stem the flow further. “I just…I possess very few things in this world. Your heart is the one I treasure the most.”

This time he didn’t pull away when Atsushi’s hand brushed over his cheek, and Atsushi tilted their heads together. He swallowed hard, and softly said, “that is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Akutagawa said gruffly, and Atsushi laughed, stepping back. But there was a softness now, in Akutagawa’s eyes, and it made Atsushi’s steps buoyant. He snuck his hand over to Akutagawa’s, and, grudgingly, Akutagawa let him. Together they walked home, hand in hand.

=====

“It’s weird to be doing this again,” Atsushi said, hand on the strap of his courier bag. They hadn’t been to a love hotel in months, now, but it seemed like a good place to get noticed by the people who were trying to kill them.

They were wearing civilian clothes, and Akutagawa had fought shorts with every fiber of his being so he still looked out of place in dark trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. It was, at least, very late; and thus there were very few people to stare at them.

Empty lobby, empty elevator, empty hallway. Atsushi felt a little disappointed; at least until they made it through the door to their assigned room and Akutagawa immediately pinned him to the wall, kissing him stupid. Atsushi laughed against his mouth, all thoughts of the mission already flying from his mind, and instead wrapped his arms around Akutagawa, swaying with him.

“How do you want it tonight, weretiger?” Akutagawa asked him, kissing the side of his mouth.

“I want you spread out and naked on that bed for me,” Atsushi hummed, and Akutagawa licked into his mouth, catching his fingers on the strap of Atsushi’s bag. “Every scrap of clothing, off.”

Akutagawa drew back, met his eye—and then took another step back and began unbuttoning his shirt. Atsushi remained leaning against the wall, watching Akutagawa completely strip naked in front of him; then he turned and sat on the bed, eyebrow raised.

Atsushi fished blindly in the bag that still hung over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Akutagawa. Finally, he found what he was looking for and tossed the bundle to Akutagawa—who nearly missed catching it as he was clearly waiting for Rashomon to do so for him.

Akutagawa opened his hands to see the pair of bullet vibrators, and he looked back to Atsushi with a raised eyebrow.

“Both?” he said, and Atsushi wiggled a pair of remotes, held between his fingers.

“Both,” he responded, with a grin.

Akutagawa chewed his bottom lip and considered this. He spread his legs and dipped his hand between them, sliding his fingertips over his balls and below, circling his own rim before pressing them inside. Atsushi watched this performance, rapt, though Akutagawa was hardly paying attention to him, fingering himself open and eventually introducing the first vibrator.

It wasn’t as large as the one he’d gifted Atsushi, it slid inside with ease; the second one being a similar size it went in just as easily. Akutagawa exhaled then, still fingering himself, his other hand slowly stroking his dick—he didn’t actually look at Atsushi until Atsushi’s hand landed on his wrist, stopping him from stroking himself.

He’d stripped while Akutagawa had been working the bullet vibrators inside. Akutagawa let his legs fall all the way open when Atsushi crawled between them, and he let out a throaty moan when he felt Atsushi’s cock nudge against his stretched rim.

Atsushi knelt on the mattress, pulling Akutagawa’s hips into his lap as he settled his cock against Akutagawa’s hole. It was twitching against him, and he tilted his head, licking his lips as he looked down at Akutagawa, cheeks flushed pink and his hand against his mouth. “You really want my cock, huh?” he said, leaning over him. “Your body is begging for it.”

“Of course my body wants your cock,” Akutagawa grunted, fingers digging into the bedspread above his head, “because I want your cock inside me, weretiger.” He closed his eyes, teeth pressed into his bottom lip, the delicate points of his fangs suddenly obvious. “Please.”

Atsushi caught his breath. “Say it again,” he said, and Akutagawa groaned, shoulders pressed into the mattress and arching his back, trying to force the issue, but Atsushi’s fingers were tipped in claws, holding him perfectly still, rim brushing the head of his cock.

“Please,” Akutagawa moaned, and Atsushi sank the head of his cock in. “Fucking sadist you are, weretiger—” he managed as Atsushi thrust, his cock pushing the vibrators in deeper, making Akutagawa shudder. “Ah, fuck—”

“Oh, yes,” Atsushi said, leaning over him, palming one of the remotes. “Let’s see how this works out.”

Akutagawa’s hips jerked as the remote activated both vibrators, squeezed against each other and pressed deeper still by Atsushi. Atsushi choked, pulling his cock back, the vibrations being too much for his sensitive cockhead. Akutagawa tore actual holes in the sheets and howled, fluid spurting from his dick.

Atsushi dropped the remote into the covers and started fucking into him, shallow and quick, aiming directly for that spot the vibrators were already pushed past. Akutagawa panted to the ceiling, mouth open and eyes closed, every muscle tense. Atsushi couldn’t help but tease his cock with his fingers, stroking it as he fucked in.

He experimented with the vibration patterns, fucking Akutagawa into the mattress as he lay on his stomach gasping and drooling into a pillow; he pulled Akutagawa onto his lap and watched his stomach tense as he rode Atsushi’s cock to its root; and especially he would cut off the vibrators if it seemed like Akutagawa was going to crest and listened, gleefully, as he swore out every oath he could think of, questioning Atsushi’s sexual history, choices, and parentage.

“You know all that,” Atsushi said idly, tracing patterns into Akutagawa’s skin with the fluid that was still heavily leaking from his cock. “My entire sexual history has been with you.”

Akutagawa said a shaky, “oh, fuck—” and came all over the back of Atsushi’s hand without being touched.

Atsushi stared at the fluid, and then immediately activated the vibrators. Akutagawa keened, already overstimulated, and Atsushi rolled them so that he was fucking down and into Akutagawa with his weight behind it as Akutagawa choked and sobbed until Atsushi’s cock was soaking the vibrators inside him with his climax.

He panted, holding Akutagawa in place until he couldn’t anymore; his cock slid out with an obscenely wet noise and was followed by rivulets of frothy white. He plunged his fingers inside Akutagawa’s abused hole and he hiccupped and sobbed for relief until Atsushi removed both the vibrators and left them in the covers as well.

He crawled up the bed and laid out beside Akutagawa, who was half delirious, still suffering through aftershocks. He rolled his head and looked at Atsushi, who leaned down and kissed him; then bit his lip, lapping the blood that beaded immediately. They both shivered and Atsushi wet his lips, tiger eyes glittering in the low light.

“Your entire history is with me,” Akutagawa sighed, and touched his face; batting at it, really, like his arms had been badly glued on and weren’t yet cooperating. It was cute. “You really are mine.”

“Yeah,” Atsushi said with a yawn, pillowing his head on Akutagawa’s chest. “Guess I am.”

<< Chapter 20 || Start || Chapter 22 >>

[strawberrysodaslut]

𝓓𝓸𝓰𝓰𝔂 𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓘𝓷 - Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

(and GN!dog)

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❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[ main masterlist ]

[ eddie munson masterlist ]

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word count: 1.9k

(description in small font for formatting and convenience, actual story is in regular)

warnings: mostly fluff, some angst, mentions of upcoming death of dog, dog in palative care, not fully proof read but i tried to keep both dog and reader as gender neutral, and without descriptions, i am basing a this in real life so it might have slipped.

summary: After receiving bad news about your dog, you and Eddie decide to take them to their favourite movie at the drive ins.

authors note: Hi. It’s been a little while. This is based on something i did with my dog a few weeks ago, we took her to the eras tour movie and it’s one of the best nights i’ve had with her. i’ve i wanted to get it out within the week of that but then life happened, i had to take care of her a bit more and we sadly had to put her down the sunday before last. we’re receiving her ashes soon and i got a plush that looks like her so i felt inspired to write this again as a way to deal with my grief. i have included a lot of anecdotes about her in this, so im sorry if you’re trying to picture your dog or a past one and some events done line up. i tried my best to keep the descriptions of the dog pretty general, the only big thing i think is that they would have a tail. anyway it’s 4am and i’m crying now so i’m gonna be on my way. i hope you enjoy <3

i won’t be doing my taglist for this one, hope you can understand <3 if you would like to join the taglist for less emotional fics you can here

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"They're not gonna let us in."

"Will you sto- they're gonna let us in." He chuckled, glancing at you quickly with a smile."Stop worrying. Remember what I told you? Your only job this week is relaxation and snuggles."

You sigh, opting to look out of the window instead of responding.

Eddie notices, but he also knows you're still listening. "Which conveniently go hand in hand don't they sweetheart." He says, upping the baby talk as he stretches his arm behind the drivers seat to scratch your dogs chin, marvelling at how quickly they leaned into his touch, groaning in joy.

"See!" He said, laughing. "I'm their favorite."

It's the same thing he said when he installed the makeshift doggy car-seat Wayne had made you months ago. When Eddie first suggested taking your dog with the two of you on drives, he started drawing up the plans immediately.

"That dog is the darn cutest thing I've seen since you were in diapers." Wayne said, pointing to his nephew. "And I don't trust your cowboy driving."

Two weeks later when he picked you and your dog up for your first big drive, you were immediately taken by surprise that he put the seat on his side.

"You traitor!" You said, pointing towards the seat Eddie was now fastening your beloved dog to, away from you.

Eddie gasped in faux shock, looking at your dog with wide eyes. "Can you believe they called me that?" He said to your dog, who responded to him only with a wagging tail and a lick on the chin.

"See!" He said, clapping his hands once your dog was settled in. "I'm their favorite. So I get to be closer to them. You get a nice view, so don't complain." He said, winking at you as he swung into the drivers seat.

You had done a lot of trips since then, but this was the first one later at night. It wasn't too bad, springtime means the sun is slowly setting a bit later. You can't help but be enamoured when you turn to look at your dog, the way the sunset sits behind them makes look like a painting.

Eddie seems to have noticed, because he's reaching on the dashboard and passing you his prized film camera. "If you don't get a photo of them right now I'm never talking to you again."

You laugh, snapping a photo that you would later discover is your favorite one you've ever taken of your dog... and a few more for good measure.

"We're here!" Eddie says,  pulling into the Hawkins Drive In. He parks just outside of the concession stand. "Do you want anything."

"Popcorn and a coke please." You say, pulling out your wallet to give him money, but you know it's no use when swats it out of your hand.

Instead of mentioning it though, he turns around to the back of the seat to face your dog. "And some nuggets for you bud?"

As if they can somehow hear him, your dog yaps in response. Eddie nods, "Thought so."

"Eddie..." You start, nuggets were salty and salt is not good for your dog.

Eddie cuts you off though, "I'll ask for no salt, they'll probably like it better that way anyway. And hey, you said it didn't matter what they ate anymore."

It's not Eddie's fault, but you feel as though you've been struck. He was right, that was what you had said, but for a shining moment, you had forgotten the constant countdown ticking over your dogs head. Displaying a number you had no way of reading exactly what it said.

It doesn't take more than a second for eddie to realise what he's said. "Hey- no. I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring that up. Here, let's take them in and they can pick out something." He said, running around to your side of the door and opening it for you- ever the gentleman.

He helps you out of the car and the two of you take your dog out of the back of the van, heading into the concession bay.

Immediately you- or your dog- is greeted by a young girl running up to pay them. Her mother quickly scolding her for going up to a strangers dog. Less than a minute later, the girl carefully walks up to you, almost stubbornly.

"Can I pet your doggy?" She asks, her hand twitching as she clearly fights the urge to give your dog a big hug.

You nod your head, "You definitely can, thank you for asking." You say, looking up to the girls mother and winking at her, getting a mouthed 'thank you' in response.

And you have to say, if there is a heaven, it's going to have a tough time beating the joy your dog gets when a new person gives them cuddles. You and Eddie both swear that your dog is convinced that everywhere you go, everyone is there to see your dog specifically.

"It's the pet tax." Eddie said a few months ago when your dog barked out your front window at unsuspecting people walking by for the third time that afternoon. "The people walking past have to pay a pet tax to the top dog."

You both agree that it's better for it not to be an official tax, as your dog would not appreciate having to stop at every house with a dog so that you could pet a random dog. Absolutely not.

Eventually, the little girl's mother got her food, and told her they had to go. The girl frowned, but said bye to your dog, whispering a 'i'll save some popcorn for you.' before running off to join her mother.

In the meantime, Eddie had ordered your food, two large popcorns- of course, a coke and a pepsi- something the two of you could never agree on, and two servings of nuggets, no salt.

"You're funny." You say, opening the door for him as he tries to balance the abundance of food and drinks.

"I am- hey could you-?" He started, but you've already grabbed your drink, noticing it just about to slip from his grip and onto the dirty cement. "Yeah, thanks."

You smile at him. "We're a well oiled machine you and me." He nods in agreement, muttering something about 'you and i' incorrectly when you get back to the van. It’s hard not to chuckle.

It's barely a thirty second drive to the parking spaces for the movie, but both you and Eddie insist on strapping your dog in their seat while you park.

Unfortunately, you have to do it while your dog is giving you the saddest puppy dog eyes you've ever seen. They don't want to be in the doggy-seat, they want to be in the front with you... and the food.

The order of those aren't important.

"I know hun, but it'll just be a minute and then we'll get to cuddle okay?" You say, doing absolutely nothing to stop your dog viewing the car seat they're now in as an obstacle from the food they want.

Eddie parks the van with the back facing the screen, jumping out of the car before pulling the back doors open. You giggle when he shouts at you to wait so that he can once again open your door for you.

"Here you go m'lady!" He says in a bad british accent, pairing it with a theatrical bow.

You take his hand like how you've seen rich people do it in movies. "Why thank you sir!" You gasp, matching his dramatics instantly.

Before you can get too lost in the bit, your dog barks, reminding you that the more you chat, the longer they have to wait for food- cuddles. Cuddles, not food. Not food at all.

You climb into the back of the van, Eddie following close behind you, food in tow. "Here you go buddy, I've got the goods."

"Don't say it like that! You sound like you're giving them weed." You giggle, unclasping the safety belts from around your dog.

Eddie furrows his brows, clearly still appealing to his inner theatre kid with faux confusion, "Wait..." He says, before dramatically laying out the first blanket. "Was I not supposed to?"

You both giggle as you set up the blankets and pillows, and if you hadn't been keeping such a close eye on your dog, you might not have noticed them slowly sneaking towards where the food sits.

"Hey!" Eddie laughs, grabbing the food and moving it to where you're all going to sit among the blankets and pillows.

Once again, your dog gives an oscar winning performance, giving Eddie a look at only a starving puppy could have.

Eddie, ever the softie, gives in.

"Oh alright." He says pulling out a nugget from the box and ripping a chunk from it. "Okay, now sit." Your dog follows, tail wagging so hard it's making a clanging noise against the metal floor.

"Good, now high five." Eddie says, lifting up his right hand, your dog deciding not to leave him hanging by smacking his hand with his paw. "Good job buddy." He says, "Now other paw, can you do other paw?"

Other paw was one of the newer stills your dog learned. To be entirely honest, you have no idea how they learned it. You were just asking for high fives one day, said other paw and it worked. You gave them praise and then the next time they did it again, and then again.

You're half convinced your dog taught you other paw, not the other way around.

It's still about 50/50, if your dog thinks they've done enough, they won't respond to other paw the same they would with other commands. You guess that comes with the whole 'they trained you' theory you had.

That odd also jumps wayy down whenever you try to show off  'other paw' to someone who hasn't seen it before. Your dog loves you and enjoys your games, but they're also a pet and they love embarrassing you and proving you wrong.

Today, the odds were on your side, with your dog doing a perfect example of the 'other paw' to Eddie, who for weeks of failed attempts of showing him, thought you were lying about.

"See! I told you!" You cheered, grabbing a bigger chunk off of the nugget in Eddie's hand and giving it to your dog. "Good doggy! What a good doggy!"

Eddie laughs, "I'll be damned." He says, throwing his piece of the nugget into the air for your dog to catch, they do so, ready for more.

You both give them the rest of the nugget before settling in for the movie, you figured you'd try to spread the nuggets out, so your dog could enjoy them the whole time.

Your dog seemed to get the message, crawling inbetween you and Eddie. Or- actually, pushing the two of you apart so they could be sandwiched in the middle. Their favorite spot.

As the previews come to an end, you turn to Eddie "Thank you for doing this with me." You say, scratching your dog behind their ear.

"No thank yous necessary sweetheart, I'm glad you're both having a good time." He replies, a soft smile adorning his face.

You all relax into each other just as the beginning of your dogs favorite film; 101 Dalmatians, starts to play on the big screen.

[buttercup-yoi]

I saw your WIP game post! Honestly, I'm curious about all of them, but if I had to choose I'd pick: PARTY IN THE CLUB WITH PHICHIT, Alpha, and Lost Woods

You got it! Thanks so much for sending in an ask ❤️

PARTY IN THE CLUB WITH PHICHIT

different first meeting au

Phichit has a good fake ID, but that doesn't stop Yuuri from worrying. What if Celestino finds out, and scolds him for corrupting his rinkmate? He's not entirely convinced that Phichit can restrain himself from posting on social media. Celestino follows him there, just like the majority of the skating world. It's not like he wouldn't notice.

"So this is where you've been sneaking off to all the time," Phichit says as they get out of their Uber.

 "Not all the time," Yuuri protests. "Not that often at all. Just occasionally."

"Mmmhmm." Phichit holds out his phone and Yuuri obediently gets in frame for a selfie. The resulting photo shows his smile looking strained.

"Don't take any in the club," he pleads, for the second time that night, as they approach the main entrance. There's an orderly line of people waiting on the sidewalk, but Yuuri walks right past them.

"I won't post anything incriminating," Phichit agrees, which isn't the same thing. "Don't we have to wait in line?"

"What?" Yuuri asks, frowning. Before he can clarify, the usual guy who stands at the entrance waves them both in with a smile. He waves back, feeling awkward. The employees here are always so nice, even after dealing with his drunk self on a semi-regular basis.

"Never mind, I guess. Do you know him?"

"Um, no." It's really not helping him shake off the 'regular clubber' accusations.

Alpha

omegaverse where alphas are more of a commodity and Yuuri gets to go alpha shopping. Very E.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Katsuki, but someone else just purchased one of your top picks. I’ve brought Number Seven here for you, but let me know if you’re interested in more options.”

This alpha he brings in is finely muscled and completely naked, with short silver hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Yuuri’s mouth goes dry, and he has to swallow before replying. “Just this one is fine. Thank you.”

“If you need anything, or you’ve made your decision, just ring the bell.” He points to a button near the door. “Enjoy!”

For a minute, Yuuri just stares. This is really happening, isn’t it? A naked alpha, muzzled and chained to the wall; hands bound.

“Hello,” he says, trying to focus on his face and not the thick cock hanging heavy between his statuesque thighs. “I’m Yuuri.”

The alpha nods.

Ah—right, the muzzle. “Sorry, I guess you can’t talk.”

The collar does have a name on it. Yuuri leans in to read the small, engraved letters, then he can’t help but laugh. “Viktor?”

Another nod.

“I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just—that’s the name of my dog, too. Vicchan. He’s a toy poodle. You’re a lot bigger than he is.”

Lost Woods

Viktor and Yuuri are both at a lowpoint in their lives and get trapped in a shared dream until they work it out. Loss of identity feelings.

The overhead lighting has a particular hum that's nostalgic. Yuuri spends a long time warming up, fastidiously avoiding his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors as he moves. Not that he particularly needs to avoid an injury, which his career in ashes and his return to the ice theoretical but unlikely.

Celestino hadn't seemed surprised, when Yuuri ended his coaching contract. When he'd broken the news to Phichit, it was the same.

His normal dance leggings are cutting into the extra fat on his hips, and he feels it with every move as he starts up a slow and familiar routine.

Yuuri has always been mentally weak. He knows this about himself, is resigned to that fact. He's been unsure before, and has struggled with a feeling of being an imposter as long as he can remember, but what he's feeling now is different. It's a numbness, almost, a heavy layer of snow over his heart, muffling sound and light.

His phone vibrates in his gym bag, snapping Yuuri out of his self-centered pity. The clock says he's been here for three hours, which can't be right—but when he checks his phone it's true.

> Pick me up cigarettes on the way home.

It's from Mari. She's blunt, but rarely this direct.

> I will.

He replies right away, to assuage her worries.

As he's cleaning up and  slinging his bag over his shoulder, Yuuri catches his own gaze in the mirror. Even his wave of self-revulsion is muted.

Thanks again for sending an ask!

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

Thank you for talking about mijoo cause I just went down a rabbit hole and it snapped me out of being delulu lol. I can't believe army and shippers really convinced us she was married, and now I'm finding out that was a lie and there was more to the story. Also while going through message boards I found out that allegedly, during the 97 liner scandal, they were at a club trying to hook up with girls in their vip room. Now I just feel silly for ever thinking jungkook could be queer 😅 like this man clearly has a type cause mijoo, nain, and chaewon all give off a similar vibe.

Do you believe the rumor about jimin and daeun? Like I was a bit skeptical, but I find it weird that she tries so hard to connect herself to him. It's giving obsessive ex

I've always thought he could be bi, but to believe that he's like GAY 100% gay is a bit too crazy. And I wonder if part of how hard some people push the gay label on him doesn't have to do with all the rumours.

Yes, the very first thing that came out about Jungkook that night of the club in 2020 was a french girl who said Jungkook had bought drinks for her and her friends at the club. If I recall correctly, she posted about it that same night.

I don't believe about Daeun, no. And there's nothing to really talk about because what I'm supposed to do... analyze a freaking carpet? Then there's the fact that ya'll talk about that woman but it's not even present time stuff, it's all allegedly about the past. I don't really know how to make myself understood, but I'll try.

I was talking about taekook once and said how I don't like going back in time to try and figure out something that happened years ago, and that's the same thing. I just can't be bothered to go back three years (in Jimin's life, we're not even talking about my own life) to try and find clues about it. As 2020, 2021, 2022 was going on, there was nothing I saw that would've led me to believe Jimin was in a relationship with her. In fact, 2020 he literally was spending every single day with Jungkook, it's still unclear if Jimin was spending more time in 911 or in the dorms, but they even slept in the same room with him.

After 2020, there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the following years where I thought Jimin could've been living with someone else. If I didn't see it back then I'm certain that I didn't see it because nothing was going on. So, ya'll are too late, even if it somehow it was true, ya'll are just too late.

If I talk about things that happened years ago it's because I was there, and I lived through it. It's not the same to what people are doing saying "see how Jimin was in a relationship in 2020 and we know it because she posted a photo in 2024?" It's too ridiculous. Next time, try to get the rumours as the relationship is still going and have at least one single photo of them in the same room. Otherwise, I just can't be bothered.

This is literally Jimin's first and only relationship rumour, ever, in 10 years. All of the other members have had the same type of rumours, some of them had several, and none of them turned out true or at least nobody could confirm it. I didn't care about those rumours either because same this same that was never "evidence" for me. Namjoon even laughed about it once, posting on instagram the headline and saying it was fake. I remember there was a dog involved, too.

So, that's pretty much it. I don't believe it because first, that's just not me, I don't think "same this" is proof of anything when there's not even proof that Jimin knows her or has even talked to her, ever. Second, because of who initiated the rumours and the timing, it's always conveniently brought up at very certain times. Lastly, because even if the taekookers detectives are right (because it's literally all them), it's too late. I'm not about to revisit history to try and fit something that I never saw and of which there's not proof enough for me to say that it actually happened.

[system-of-a-feather]

you have suddenly shrunk down to be tinier than an ant. name the first 5 things you wanna do.

Funny story. We actually wrote a story about something similar to this when we were in elementary school. As a result, I will let elementary school us answer the question.

You have unlocked secret Feathers bonus lore. Here is a transcript of our elementary school writing with names changed for obvious reasons.

“Wow! Everything is so big!” I shouted as I noticed that I was ten inches tall. I thought,” I know you grow in your sleep but not shrink. Next, I slipped out of my room and past my parents. I would scare them by turning on the TV when no one is looking. Finally, I would go into our garden silently. I went into the garden to water my plants and my flower was the same size as me! I forgot that I was ten inches tall and I thought that my flower grew very quickly. When I thought that thought, I chuckled. My friend called to ask if I could come over and my mom called me to the phone. “Joe, phone,” my mom called. “ I'm right here,” I said back to her. “Joe you are so small!” my mom said in shock. “ I don't know how this happened, anyway can you put the phone on speaker,” I said nicely to my mom. “ Okay,” She said as she put the phone on speaker. “ Hey, I can you come over?” my friend asked. “ I can't play right now, I'm ten inches tall,” I told my friend. “That's okay, I hope you get bigger,” she said as she hung up. Now I asked my mom asked me that if she have any idea on how this happened. “ Sorry, but no,” she said sadly. “That's okay, thanks for the help,” I said happily. Next, I looked in my room to see if there was anything special I did when I went to bed. I searched and thought for an hour. Then, I noticed that I slept near this glowing pink, purple, green, red, and yellow rock. I thought,”Bingo! That must be it,” as I snapped my finger. “Okay, now I know why I shrunk to ten inches tall, but how do I return to my normal size,” I thought. “Also, it would be too dangerous to go outside again, I could get very hurt,” I thought. I got bored in my room with nothing to do, so I went down stairs. I turned on the TV and watched it. Soon,my mom finished cooking my dinner, I looked at what it was, it was half a hot dog and a little corn. When, I was going upstairs, I almost got stepped on by my sister. It took me 15 minutes to go up the stairs and I was tired. So, I went to bed early. When I woke up the next morning, I noticed that I was back to my normal size. I guess if you slept next to the rock once, you shrink, sleep next to it again, you return to normal size, and who knows, maybe if you sleep next to it three times, you grow two times your real height, but of course, I wouldn't like to test that out. Now will I ever sleep next to that rock again? No. I put the rock away in a box, but when I went to check up on it, it was gone. Did I ever find my rock. No. Did I care? No, I didn't. Eventually, I just forgot about the magical rock and that odd day. Although, I wrote the story down and what happened that day and looked back at it with a little photo of little me and a little piece of the colorful glowing rock.

[thedragoraclan]

[Gen1, Part1] That’s a lot of fish!

This series is officially underway and I’m quite excited. I debated for a bit about whether I wanted to do a true Rags to Riches challenge or an easier version (aka with a starter house.) This is simply because I’ve always have money issues IRL and they’re super stressful.

I play games to escape stress, but I thought about it and came to the conclusion that I can live out my dreams through them. I may not be able to get rid of my money issues IRL, but I can help them to overcome their own!

Also, I’d like to mention that I couldn’t remember which neighborhood had all of the collectibles. I chose wrong and had to travel to the other neighborhood to start collecting haha I also immediately regretted choosing Oasis over Willow.

The latter is just so much prettier and, in my opinion, has better resources.

It takes a while for collectibles to start spawning in, so I decided it was best to start fishing. Normally, my sims don’t really catch anything at the start and Raelin was no different.

At least, she wasn’t at first. It didn’t take long at all before she was fishing up the entire river! I’ve never had a sim catch this many fish at one time when they have no fishing skill.

I was seriously impressed! And she seems quite proud of herself, as well haha

Once the collectibles started to spawn, I sent her off to gather as many as she could.

My casual playthrough quickly turned to one of horror, though…

At first, I figured they were just broken CC hairs because I haven’t played in ages, but now I’m beginning to think that they are only broken because I uninstalled all packs except for the base game.

You don’t make much money off photography, especially when you’re just using the cell phone, but it’s a fun hobby. I enjoy taking pictures of the world because it truly is beautiful! Plus, it’s not like they sell for 0.

I’m not sure why, but sims just don’t tend to grill in my games. I’ve watched loads of playthroughs where they go to the park and sims will grill food so they can eat for free. That never happens for me which is super frustrating for this kind of challenge.

Hot dogs are the cheapest at just 13 simoleons, so she’s gonna be eating a lot of that for a while haha

One thing I really miss are whims. I know there’s the wants and fears system, which I did turn on once I remembered to, but it’s not the same. The fears are super annoying, in my opinion, and they can really mess with a sim’s mood.

When I finally did turn it back on, her first want was to play chess because she was at the park. An easy one to accomplish.

Many naps and an uncomfortable bench later…

I wanted to head to Willow Creek because I was already tired of Oasis lol Honestly, I debated for a moment whether or not I wanted to stay exclusively inside of the world I had chosen but I figured that would get annoying down the road.

Snapped some pics, of course.

I have also decided that I’m going to have a “portrait” aka a selfie of each heir to keep on the wall. Not sure how well this will go. Perhaps I’ll have each heir take the photos when they move out, hmm…

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you in the next one o/

[barnesandbarton]

Bucky shrugged.  “You can do whatever you want.  I told you, I’m not looking for your forgiveness.  I wouldn’t accept it if you tried.  You can do whatever you want with the grudge you’re bearing.  I deserve it.  I told you that wasn’t a story about pity.  It was a story about numbers.  I didn’t remember you because you were one of hundreds.  I didn’t know who you were.  I didn’t recognize the kid in the photos Clint showed me.  You meant nothing to me then.  Hurting you was how I avoided being hurt and you were just one more nameless, faceless mass of flesh that I had to torture to avoid the same thing happening to me.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “That’s not to say I don’t feel bad NOW.  I do.  I am trying to remember all these people and what I cost them.  I’m trying to figure out ways I can make up for what I did.  It’s hard and if you’ve got a way that doesn’t involve me hurting my partner or breaking you out of here, I’d be open to it.  I want you to do the work, so I know for sure, when I do try and make up for what I did, it’s you and not HYDRA’s rabid dog that I’m helping.  But I also know, there’s no real way I can.”

All he could do was try and put good back into the world now.  It didn’t undo it, but maybe it balanced the overall kama.

Bucky nodded.  “I believe you.  I believe at the time when he said that, you wanted to beat the shit out of him.  I bet you hated his guts for saying that about your ma.  I also don’t doubt he felt bad about it too.  Not just because he said it about his mom, but for saying it about his dad too.  And I know, that deep down there’s the part of you that knows that was a very wounded child speaking out of anger and grief about how fucking cruel and unfair the world had been to him.  I know that deep down you know that hatred didn’t last long because he was the only thing you had left and you spent years protecting him.  And I know that  deep down you know that love and hate can go hand in hand.  Because the opposite of love isn’t hate.  It’s indifference.  This hate and vengeance you feel wouldn’t even be there if you didn’t also love him and feel betrayed by him.”  He snapped the elastic on his wrist again, and then reached back and gathered his hair into a half bun and used the elastic to tie it back.  “You know what, if you do the work, I don’t even think this feeling of betrayal and jealousy you feel will go away.  I definitely don’t think you’ll ever feel fully comfortable around me.  I killed Tony Stark’s parents you know?  And we do get along now, he fixes this up for me if I ask -” he held his hand up and flexed the metal plates.  “Shit, he’ll fly right across the country if I call him to ask him to do it.  But there are days where he’s just a piece of shit to me.  And I get it.  I’ll take it.  That’s his pain and his grudge and I deserve to be called Freezer Burn and have him try and antagonize me.  It could be worse.  So don’t you worry, it’s not going to change who you are. You won’t come out feeling like a little ball of love and light.  But you’ll realize that the drive you have to actually kill the guy, that’s them.  That wasn’t in you until they set me on you.  And it took a lot to beat that into you.  I really did.” 

He laughed and stood up.  “Yeah, I know.  I don’t doubt you can.  But that’ll be the end of you.  You’ll be on a suicide run.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

He didn't care to hear the sob story of his brother, of how he supposedly MOURNED. It was all bullshit, a tangled mess in his head that refused to believe it. Barney was utterly dismissive of it, snorting at the mention of Clint taking Barnes to his grave. Maybe there was some GUILT but that wasn't enough to absolve him of the hellish torture Barney had endured. The disregard, saving other people but not his own flesh and blood. It was utterly DISGUSTING to Barney. What would Bucky know? He hadn't been there throughout his and Clint's lives. He didn't know the WORST of it or any of the truth.

❝ So what? Am I supposed to call you Jack Frost or some shit? ❞ he asked with a shrug, taking another drag of the cigarette. He didn't care how it worked, all he knew was that thanks to whatever fucking science they had had culminated in the Winter Soldier beating the shit out of him. Again and again and again. As COLD as it might seem, he would have preferred it if Bucky had died a long ass time ago. Taking punches from just any other agent, he could handle. That metal arm and his tactics were an ENTIRELY different story. Sure, it made him tougher, had him able to hold his own, but didn't make any punch hurt LESS.

He didn't know. It didn't matter what Clint told him, he would have no idea what it was like. Stories only painted so many pictures. Perhaps it was a toss up of which hurt more: the stranger with a metal arm taking blow after blow, or his own father beating him into the GROUND as a young child.

Either way, the mention of it had his jaw set, biting his inner cheek and resisting every desire to DECK him right then and there. If it weren't for the smokes tossed his way, he might have but he'd hold off. For now. ❝ You wanna know the moment I knew I HATED him? ❞ he asked, bringing the cigarette to his lips for a moment, exhaling smoke. ❝ We were just kids. Parents had gone out, dad was drunk and pissed off like normal. Next thing we know, there's cops on our doorstep. ❞ Of course, he had known something had happened back then. He just hadn't known the EXTENT of it. Not until they opened their mouths and he had felt sick to his stomach. ❝ Both our parents gone. Just like that. Harold, didn't give a shit about him. But ma? She was GOOD. She did her best. Tried to protect us. Like a guardian angel. And then that little shit opened his mouth. All he had to say was 'good'. Good they were GONE. It wasn't just that piece of shit, it was our ma. And Clint said it was good they were both gone like he didn't even care. ❞

Or at least how Barney had interpreted it. Just one word was all he had to say while Barney was REELING from the fact that their mother was gone. Bastard had taken the only good thing in their lives. And Clint hadn't cared. Punk kid, didn't even CARE about it.

He wasn't too surprised at the rejection. The man probably didn't want to be looking after his own BACK with Barney at his side. He couldn't say he didn't try. ❝ Well, I gave you my own terms. I might have even BEHAVED a bit more. Now you can only blame yourself when I get out of here. ❞ And Barney had no doubt in his mind that he would get OUT.

[happilychaengs]

Twice reaction to S/O bringing home a puppy

forgot to post this one on tumblr

sorry

kind of short ones

MyLegsAreWideOpen on wattpad asked:

Hii 😁 Can you make a twice reaction where y/n comes home with a puppy on his hand and see how TWICE will react? 😄 Thankss

Nayeon

Your eardrums practically imploded when you heard Nayeon squeal and rush over at the sight of you and the little ball of sunshine in your hands.

"Y/N! Who's this cutie?" She asked in a baby voice as she gently ruffled the puppy's fur.

"Our new dog!"

She looked up at you with sparkles in her eyes, "Seriously?"

You nodded in response, "I know you've been wanting another dog recently to play with Kookeu and I thought it'd be a good time to!" She cooed at your explanation as the dog started licking her hand, making her look back down at him.

"Aw look! He already loves me!"

Jeongyeon

Originally Jeongyeon had opposed the idea of owning a dog, but now you were convinced she loved him more than you. When you walked home with a puppy in your hands, she made a fuss about how dirty the house would be but eventually she let up from how stubborn you were.

You couldn't believe it was the same person when she practically did everything with him. You two were watching movies? Better make room for another in the middle. You two were ordering takeout? Might as well order for a third.

You shook your head and laughed as she held him up, completely in awe at how he looked in the one piece she bought, showing it off to the world as she snapped a hundred photos of them together.

"Look how cute he is!"

Momo

Being the mother of several dogs, you wouldn't doubt that she would love the idea of having another. So when you walked through the door with the puppy in your hand, you couldn't help but smile when you saw her already playing with Boo and Dobby. Looking at who came through the door, her eyes shot wide open when she saw another in your hands.

She ran up to you, with the two dogs at your feet not long after. "What's going on? Are you watching someone's dog?"

You shook your head, "No... this is our new member of the family!"

She let out a small gasp as she kneeled back down to Boo and Dobby, "Did you two hear that? You're going to have a new brother to play with!"

Sana

When you had walked in the house with a box in your hands, she couldn't help but be more confused when she saw the box move. You put the box down in front of her and the box kept moving about.

She immediately yelped and shut her eyes when something leapt out and she felt a wet sensation on her legs.

"Y/N! What's happening?!"

You let out a chuckle as you picked up the puppy away from Sana, "I brought home a special friend. I thought you might like him but maybe not."

When she slowly opened her eyes back up and saw the absolute cutest thing in your arms, she squealed for an entirely different reason.

"Aw that's nonsense! I love him already!"

Jihyo

Jihyo had her feet kicked up on the couch, feeling exhausted from her recent schedules, just waiting for you to come back home. When she heard the door open, she got up and couldn't help but be surprised when she saw you. You held a small puppy, no more than a year old from what she could tell, in your hands and it was completely covered in dirt along with your hands.

When you caught sight of her on the couch, you looked between the puppy in your hands and her, worried that she would disapprove.

"Hey Ji..."

"What's with the puppy?"

"Uh, well... I saw him on the street and it seemed like their was no owner around and I couldn't just let him stay on the street. Is it okay with you?" You asked, clearly anxious.

She let out a small giggle as she got up, "Of course it is, but let's get you two cleaned up before any big decisions."

Mina

When she first saw him, Mina had her doubts. She was worried that she wouldn't be able to take care of the puppy right. Would she even have the time to?

But her worries eventually faded away when he practically became her new gaming buddy when you weren't there with her. He was always by her side when she was playing a new game and he even went shopping with her for any new releases. Sometimes you think he's trying to steal her away from you but it was ridiculous to get jealous over a dog. Right?

Dahyun

She was completely unexpecting of what would happen when she saw an unknown puppy running around the house. You were chasing it around the house trying to not to alert Dahyun but you slipped and fell on the floor. Her other dog, Ari, and the puppy immediately ran up to you licking your face, you hoped in concern for your safety.

When you had finally introduced the puppy to her, she quickly got attached to him and eventually brought him around anywhere with her along with Ari.

Chaeyoung

She absolutely adored the idea. When she had seen the puppy for the first time in your arms, she already knew that this was the perfect addition to your relationship.

He was one of her inspirations now and looking through her sketchbook, you could tell that she was just as in love with him as you were. Even to the point where she was thinking of getting more tattoos so she could always have a piece of you and him with her no matter where she was.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu absolutely loved him at the first sight of him and the look on her face when she saw him was irreplaceable. She couldn't have been happier when she picked him up and started playing with his little paws.

She quickly introduced him to Kaya and Butter and got so excited when she saw them playing together already. The two of you sat down beside them as you joined in on the fun, with Tzuyu onlooking with a huge smile on her face.

[searidings]

this is what happens when @ekingston and i get our hands on the prompt “that's my wife!” and agree that she'll draw my idea for it and i'll write hers (aka hearing kara call it out as she watches lena being wheeled down a hospital corridor)

“Excuse me, you can't go through there!”

Kara growls. The woman blocking her path is short and gently rounded, the kind lines of her face drooping in disapproval above her nurse's scrubs. “No visitor access beyond this point, dear. Immediate family only.”

“Immediate— you're joking, right?” Kara cranes her head, peering through the closing doors to catch a last glimpse of Lena's gurney as it rounds the corner at the end of the hall. “That's my wife!”

The nurse gapes at her. “Your—?”

Kara growls again, louder. It's a good thing she'd blown out her powers twenty minutes ago, or she would not be held responsible for the Kryptonian-shaped hole in NC Memorial Hospital's expensive surgery doors. “Yes, my wi—”

Her snarl is cut off by a hand clamping down firmly over her mouth from behind. Kara's first instinct is to bite it. She resists, narrowly, as the familiar scent of shea butter moisturiser registers in her adrenaline-fogged brain.

“You sure about that?” Alex squeaks around a nervous laugh, voice pitched a half-octave too high. She removes her hand from Kara's mouth, wiping her damp palm on her pants with a wrinkled nose. “Get hit on the head during that fight, did you?”

Kara whirls on her sister, eyes blazing. “Am I sure?” she parrots incredulously. Alex cowers a little beneath the force of her stare. “Unless you're trying to tell me I hallucinated my entire wedding—”

“Supergirl isn't married,” Alex stage-whispers loud enough to be heard in Florida, glancing pointedly down at Kara's ash-caked body and oh yeah, she's still wearing her supersuit.

Right, right.

The nurse – Rosemary, her badge reads – finally picks her jaw up off the floor long enough to speak. Her eyes are wide, sparkling with sudden glee. “So Lena Luthor and Su—”

Kara's hackles rise at the suggestion in her tone. “Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers are happily married,” she interrupts sternly. “You might have seen the wedding photos in last month's Vogue.”

The nurse smirks. At her elbow, Alex drops her head into her hands.

“Kara Danvers, hm? Amazing what a pair of glasses do for you, dear.” Rosemary's brow quirks with impish satisfaction and, oh. Whoops. It would appear that in her haste to quash any potential rumours of Lena's infidelity behind the back of her very recent, very publicly human wife, she'd forgotten about the other delicate matter at hand.

Alex sighs so long and so heavy Kara legitimately marvels that she doesn't pass out from the strain. “I knew keeping a spare NDA in my back pocket would pay off,” her sister groans, thrusting an official-looking, if crumpled, contract beneath the nurse's nose.

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs sheepishly as Rosemary signs away page after page of her right to ever disclose Supergirl's identity in any capacity. “I wasn't thinking, I can't— Alex, it's Lena.”  

“I know, I know,” her sister soothes, frustration dissipating as she reaches out to pull Kara into her side, ignoring the soot and grit that smear across her jacket at the contact. “She's gonna be okay.”

“But what if she's not?” Kara asks and the sobs arrive then, the last remnants of the fight or flight response that had propelled her this far dissipating beneath the weight of her terror. “She stepped right in front of that bullet, Alex! Of all the stupid, reckless—”

“If I recall, she was pushing you back after you shoved her out of the way in the first place,” Alex hums thoughtfully. Kara's tear-filled eyes snap to her face, incredulous, and her sister grimaces. “Right, right. Not the time.”

“She has to be okay,” she gasps, clutching hard at her sister's jacket as her knees threaten to give out beneath her. “She has to, I can't— I feel like I can't breathe. Like my heart's been ripped out.”

Alex clicks her tongue in sympathy, wrapping a firm arm round Kara's waist and guiding her to a nearby row of chairs. Rosemary deposits the signed NDA wordlessly on the hard plastic beside them, reaching into her scrubs to produce a pack of tissues.

Alex accepts, extracting one to dab at Kara's snotty, tear-stained face with her free hand. “Welcome to married life, kid,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss to Kara's matted hair. “It can be a real bitch.”

-

It's a long night.  

It's a long night, a night of anxious waiting and barely-restrained nausea and vending machine coffee so bad even Nia won't drink it. Her family, their family, crowd the waiting room, dozing across the rows of seats as the hours drag on and on.

Alex tries her best, at varying intervals, to force her back to the Tower for a stint under the sun lamps. Every time without fail, Kara sets her jaw, then sets her feet in the middle of the surgical wing waiting room and refuses to budge.

This leads to several arguments, and a lot of impassioned shoving.  

“What if she needs me?” Kara laments tearily, pout activated and puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Alex, mid-football tackle with her arms and right shoulder braced against Kara's torso as she attempts to use her entire bodyweight to force her sister toward the exit, only grunts with exertion. Behind them, J’onn dozes in the corner. Brainy and Kelly and Nia continue their conversation without batting an eyelid.

“No, scratch that, she does need me,” Kara corrects, unaffected by her sister's NFL-worthy body slam. “She's been shot. I'm not going anywhere.”

Alex, perhaps finally sensing defeat after her fourth unsuccessful attempt, gives one final shove with all her strength. Kara doesn't so much as wobble, and her sister releases her with a huff. “Fine. But for the love of God, change your clothes before you start shouting about your wife again,” she pants, red-faced and sweating as she collapses into a nearby chair. “That was my last NDA.”

That's a compromise she can make. Kara accepts the bundle of clothes Nia presents her with, stripping out of her dirt-caked suit and re-donning her glasses. Thankfully, the only person around to witness Kara entering the bathroom as a superhero and re-emerging as a Catco reporter is Rosemary.  

The updates on Lena's condition are sporadic at best. By the time the first surgeon emerges to say the bullet has been removed from Lena's chest cavity Kara's accidentally cracked three plastic chairs, advanced all the way to Lollipop Land on Alex's Candy Crush, and worn a groove into the waiting room linoleum with her nervous pacing.

When another doctor emerges three hours later to tell them Lena had developed a tension pneumothorax and needs additional treatment, Kara's made it to Rainbow Reef and chewed her bottom lip bloody.

When, at five in the morning, yet another doctor appears to inform them that Lena is being placed on anti-radiation medication to counter the Kryptonite that had coated the bullet, Kara's finished all nine thousand nine hundred and thirty-five levels of the damn game. The doctor leaves, promising to be back with more news soon, and Kara squeezes her sister's hand so hard poor Nurse Rosemary has to be called to administer an ice pack for the bruising, solar flare be damned.

Dawn breaks to find Kara scratchy-eyed and grumpy, worn ragged with worry. The waiting room begins to fill up around them, new patients and their relatives coming and going, and still there's nothing new on Lena. Every time another scrub-clad surgeon pushes through the doors Kara's heart skips a beat, all of them sitting up straighter in their seats, but every time the doctor passes them by.

Kara's just wolfed down six cold breakfast sandwiches procured by Brainy on his sojourn to the hospital cafeteria and is debating the relative merits of starting Candy Crush over from scratch when another young doctor appears. Her scrub cap has avocados on it. Kara likes her already.

“Family of Ms Luthor?” she calls, looking around, and Kara pushes up hard from her chair to the resounding snap of cracking plastic. Whoops.

“It's Luthor-Danvers,” she gabbles as she bounds over to the surgeon, palms sweating. No matter how many times she hears it, it never loses its thrill. “I'm, I'm her wife.”

The young doctor's features soften. “Of course. I've come to let you know that it looks like Ms Luthor-Danvers is out of the woods. She's sedated and still on an anti-radiation drip, but she's through the worst of it.” She appraises Kara, gaze lingering on her chewed-raw lips and clenching fingers, then leans closer conspiratorially. “It's not general visiting hours yet, but you can see her, if you'd like.”

“Yes!” Kara's shouting almost before the surgeon has finished speaking. “Yes, please, yes.”

She hugs them all, Alex and Brainy and Nia and Kelly and J’onn, and leaves them in the waiting room as she follows the doctor's sunshine-yellow crocs down the hall.

They round corner after corner, an interminable maze. Powerless as she is, she can't hear Lena’s heartbeat, and the absence of the steady beat that has become the soundtrack to her existence sets her even more on edge.  

But at last they turn a corner, and there she is. She's pale and bandaged and her eyes are closed, creamy skin streaked with dirt and bruises, but she's there, she's alive, she's Lena.  

The surgeon holds the door open for her with a smile and Kara's across the room in a heartbeat, smoothing a hand over Lena's warm cheek and pressing kiss after kiss to her forehead and hair.  

“I love you, I love you,” she whisper-cries against Lena's temple, tucking her matted curls behind her ears. The smell of blood and dirt and antiseptic is almost overwhelming, but beneath the dust and debris caught up in her hair Lena's scalp smells the same as always. Kara presses her face to the crown of her head and inhales deeply, soaking it in.  

“Why'd you have to be so damn brave?” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against silky softness. “I love you so much. Please don't step in front of any more bullets. Please learn to be a coward, occasionally.”

The singular relief of having Lena living and breathing and in her arms again is so complete, so compounded by the fear and the adrenaline and the sleepless night and the solar flare, that she feels suddenly that she may crumple to the ground from the force of it all.

Unwilling to relinquish her hold for even a second she appraises the bandages covering Lena's right side, then crawls onto the hospital bed on her left, careful to avoid her many wires and monitors. She tucks herself in beside her on the wide mattress, chin hooked over Lena's shoulder and face pressed to the side of her neck, and lets the tears that haven't really stopped falling since that bullet had left its chamber fall for just a little longer.

Nothing matters outside of the two of them, outside of the warmth of Lena's body and the softness of her skin beneath Kara's lips and the steady thud of her heart beneath Kara's palm. Nothing else in the world exists, so when an unfamiliar male voice sounds from the doorway it takes her a moment to register the intrusion.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you really can't be on the bed with her,” the strange, disembodied voice calls from behind her and Kara frowns tiredly, unable and unwilling to acknowledge anything outside of the woman in her arms.

But before she's even managed to raise her head another voice sounds, the soft tones of a young surgeon in an avocado scrub cap.  

“Oh, honestly, Peter,” the kindly doctor says with gentle reproach, a quiet calm washing over the room as the door is pulled closed and she and Lena are left alone. “Leave them be. That's her wife.”

[fallow-grove]

ep 8

holy shit. irving outie moment?? his dog is named radar..

oh my godh hes an artist.. oughh the black paint black like the goo. the fact that he paints the same thing over and over....is it the elevator? the music

huh. why are cobel and milchick stressed about helley finishing her file

one last time??

IS MILCHICK TEARING UP? DID HE BREATHE HEAVIER WHAT

the pixel eagan is uncanny

"i love you" what the fuck

oh interesting. ms casey is retiring. whos gonna be the new wellness person

"its the longest ive ever spent awake"

i cannot read cobels expression.

WAIT. IS MS CASEY GEMMA?? IM TOO FACEBLIND TO HAVE UNDERSTOOD THE REVEAL BUT I THINK THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A REVEAL AT THE END OF LAST EPISODE WHEN IT SHOWED THE PHOTO OF GEMMA????? what the fuck, (im only figuring this out because cobel talked to milchick about "you know its good that they don't recognize each other"

she doesn't get to go up does she. is she one of the people they keep down here forever ..

THATS WHAT IRVING PAINTED. WHY HAS HE SEEN THAT. has he been down to be experimented on?

i do wonder the significance of milchick snapping pictures. i bet its for PR

YOOO ok so on one hand im cheering for cobel getting fired but i know someone worse will come along. the only thing weve heard them say being a crackly "yes" is so ominous

oh god are helley and mark flirting. was that flirting. i hope it wasnt. wait why is dylan going to perpetuity

oh god marks gonna run into trouble with cobel isnt he

WHAT HAHAHA? (in reaction to helley kissing him) THAT IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY GOOD LUCK OUT THERE BOSS IS SO JARRING

"welcome friends of lumon"? therr must be something happening

its so strange to have a waffle party alone

"go now to the founders bed" ummmm ayo??

I'm really worried about what cobel is inevitably going to do to mark

"sister and brother" "alone at last" "gross" fave

oh god yeah marks gonna flip when he switches and sees cobel

aww oh my gosh... <- doesnt evem remember what i was reacting to. oh yeah it was dylan putting the team cube on the desk before he started the protocol

"every time you find yourself here it's because you chose to come back"

[forever-rogue]

If you're looking for Bucky requests, may I perhaps request something to do with Dad!Bucky? Like maybe he's surprised on how much his kid (I always see him with a daughter but that's just me) grabs onto his metal hand when they're walking or just gravitates towards it more than his flesh hand and he's always throwing major heart eyes whenever the child does this. 🥺

A/N: Dad!Bucky? Please I’m so heckin’ soft right now - no one touch me 🥺

Pairing: n/a

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

BUCKY MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Daddy!" Bucky was pulled back into reality as he looked up from the ground. A small flock of pigeons had gathered around him as he fed them some seed. They were cooing and chirping happily at him and in some ways had become steadfast friends over the years. But when he looked up and found his daughter grinning and waving at him, his entire heart melted, "daddy! Come and catch me!"

Sofia displayed a gap-toothed grin,  her dark curls windswept and blue eyes wide and excited. She was his little clone in almost every single way. You'd told him that since the day she was born and, almost as if you had a sixth sense, you'd insisted that she would cling to him like glue. You'd been right. Very right.

He couldn’t help but grin as he watched her running around, attempting to catch some butterflies as Falcon, the beloved family dog, followed closely behind. You’d had him since before she was born and they were thick as thieves.  Quickly pulling out his phone, he made sure to snap a few photos of them to send to you before getting up and chasing after her. He was on solo-father duties today as you had a few things for work you had to attend to that day.

Of all the things in the world Bucky thought he would ever have, a family of his own was never one of them.

But as he ran after his daughter, making quick work of catching up to her little legs, and swooped her up in his arms, a wave of peace and calm washed over him. She squealed in delight as she tried to squirm out of his arms, Falcon barking happily at the two of them.

“I’ve got you, little monster,” he peppered gentle kisses over her face as she giggled and attempted to wrap her small arms around his neck, “so easily defeated, little one. One day you’ll be strong enough to fight me off.”

“I don’t want to, daddy,” she insisted as she snuggled against his chest, “I like when you hold me. Besides, my legs are getting tired.”

A lump welled up in his throat at her little declaration; in some ways he wished that Sofia would stay this young and carefree forever. But in others, he couldn’t wait for her to grow up and reach different milestones that he could help her grow through. He still struggled, here and there, with the idea that he was actually good and hoped in some ways that raising her would give him the chance to prove to the world he could do good. Perhaps it would prove it more to himself than anyone else, but that was beside the point. He just wanted to be a good father, just as he worked to be a good husband.

He already was - the best ever - you had consistently told him such. Nothing you’d ever done that had shown him otherwise. It was something he still found to be a miracle at times.

“That’s what happens when you’re a shrimp,” he laughed softly as he kissed the top of her head, “one day, you’ll be tall and running over me. But that’s a long time from now - want to get ice cream before we go home?”

“Yes,” she grinned and looked at him with wide, ocean blue eyes, “mommy said no ice cream though...she said I had too much when I went to Uncle Sam’s the other day.”

“Mommy isn’t here right now,” he put a finger up to his lips and whispered softly, “it’ll be our little secret, okay?”

“I thought secrets were bad, daddy!”

“Only when they hurt other people,” he slowly set her back down and smoothed out her wild curls, “we don’t keep important secrets to ourselves and we don’t do anything to hurt others, yes?”

“Yes!”

“Exactly - and us getting ice cream doesn’t hurt anyone,” he reminded her as the little girl nodded eagerly, “we’ll make sure to brush your teeth extra well and then we’ll bring some home for mommy too. She can’t be mad then, right?”

“She loves ice cream too,” Sofia insisted as Bucky laughed, “we can all get ice cream! Falcon too!”

“Maybe not Falcon,” Bucky into his jacket pocket and fished out Falcon’s leash before clipping it onto his collar, “he can’t eat the same food as us, baby. But we can stop and get him a special treat too at the pet store. We can do that first, get our ice cream, and walk home. Mommy should be back by then too.”

“Okay daddy,” as soon as he straightened back up, he held out his hand to her, expecting that she’d gravitate towards the warmth and gentleness his normal hand offered her. Instead, she reached for the black and gold vibranium of his left side and clung onto it without reservation. She held onto him as tightly as possible, giving him an expectant look with a happy smile.

In some ways, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. She’d never, even as a baby or toddler, had shown any fear or hesitation when it came to his vibranium arm. When she was tiny, even smaller than she was now, she didn’t understand the difference. She just knew that daddy has a different arm, but she’s never questioned it or made any sort of situation out of it. Even when people would stare, whether they knew of his past or not, Sofia was never phased. In turn, it gave Bucky the confidence not to care either.

You’d started the process of slowly helping to get him comfortable with being who he was, not hiding from the world, and the small girl had aided as well. These days he was able to go out without fear or worry about how he looked. He wasn’t anyone or anything he was just...Bucky. Bucky the husband, Bucky the father, occasionally Bucky the sidekick to Capitan America. And it felt good. For once in his long life, he was just a normal man.

And frankly, that was all he had ever wanted. What a thought - the man that had been through hell and back, several times, and all he wanted was a quiet and peaceful life. It had been a long time coming, but now that he had it, he didn’t plan on ever letting it go.

“Daddy?” Sofia asked softly as she started walking and noticed he wasn’t coming, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he promised softly. Bucky squeezed her hand gently before taking a step forward with her and Falcon quickly matching his stride, “Sofia?”

“Yes?”

“How come you never ask about my arm?” if he didn’t ask, curiosity would kill the cat. Typical Bucky Barnes, he knew you would say, asking a mere child for an explanation of something much more complex than anyone of her age would understand.

“Your arm?” her little brows knitted together as she looked up and gave him a confused look.

“You have to have noticed it’s different,” he shrugged as they walked out of the park, “it’s metal - vibranium - no one else has one like it.”

“That’s okay, daddy,” she stopped and quickly turned his hand over in hers, tracing over the palm gently, “it’s pretty. And it’s okay to be different! Mommy always says that and you do too. It doesn’t matter what anyone looks like, as long as they have good hearts. Right? If you’re kind and nice, nothing else matters!”

“Yes,” he felt himself getting choked up again as she started to race along the sidewalk, attempting to pull him with her. Sage wisdom from a five-year-old, “you’re absolutely right. I love you, little monster.”

“I know! I love you too, daddy,” she grinned, “now hurry up before they run out of all the good ice cream!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[calypsodivum]

the trooper (e.m.)

part one ● part two ● part three ● part four

summary

it's the battle of hawkins. you and eddie finally reunite, but will it turn out the way it did the last time?

disclaimer

gif and photos used are not mine. all credits go to their respective owners!

warnings

mentions of loss, bl00d, and depression. if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics mentioned, please don’t proceed. let me know if I missed any warnings!

a/n thank you for all your support, it literally means the world! part 4, and the final part for this series will be posted real soon; I have the outline and everything lol.

just like in the past two parts, I used colors to differentiate dialogues! one part of this (towards the end) may seem very confusing but it happens when reader is in a "vecna trance". again, thank you for the support ♥

i still hear you some days. you don’t sound as clear like you’re underwater and i’m trying my hardest to reach out to you. when i do hear you, it feels like a warm embrace. i don’t know why i took his hand. i was filled with so much rage. hate for the people who made me choose but i know i can’t blame them. i put up walls for a reason, walls that you managed to break through. you made me snap out of that hate. i don’t care anymore. i don’t care if they chase me with pitchforks and torches as long as i get to come back to you. i don’t even care if you won’t look at me anymore, at the monster i’ve become. i just want to see you.

vecna doesn’t know this. somehow, i’ve managed to be his henchman. following him around this wretched place. i’m still trying to find a portal. i think he’s the only one who can open one up. if that’s true, you’d have to wait i bit more, sweetheart. i don’t even know if you can hear my thoughts the same way i hear yours. but it doesn’t hurt to try.

——————————————————————————

eds, i need you. this future thing is so hard. i keep seeing you in my dreams. you’re walking around towards god knows what. you look so scared. i tried running to you but i cant seem to get to you it’s like the path to you is doesn’t end. in some of my dreams, you see me and try to run to me but we just can’t reach each other. god, i miss you.

eddie closes his eyes and lets a tear fall. you sounded so clear that time. fear was so evident in your voice. all he wanted to do was hold you but he can’t. he has to stay. you both have to wait for the right time.

months pass as vecna regains his strength, strong enough to conquer hawkins. ready to unleash the world wriggling underneath mortal feet with eddie by his side. the creature finally opens a gate. eddie watched him closely. learning his strenghts and weaknesses. he is powerful but idle. he is two seperate entities, his mind is not the same as his body.

if i can hear y/n, then maybe someone out there can hear me too.

i can.

a strange soft voice tells eddie and just like a hallucination, he sees a girl approaching him. it's eleven. they device a plan.

now, all they need to do is wait until vecna puts his own plans in motion.

——————————————————————————

the time has finally come. the battle of hawkins. first, vecna unleashes his bats. the sam ones that forced eddie to embrace death as his own. then, the dogs. every monster hawkins, or those who have seen them, in vecna’s arsenal. the mindflayer, demogorons, the spider monster, all released to run around the streets of hawkins and when the chaos is at its peak, out comes vecna with eddie marching beside him.

——————————————————————————

the phone rings incessantly. i wait for it to ring three times, just in case it’s a telemarketer i don’t really want to sit through a sales skit today. fridays are my day off from school and work, only having one class at the crack of hell’s dawn. who said 8 am classes are a good idea? my soul is barely awake at 8 am. 11:46, great this phone call just ruined my nap but i pick it up anyway.

hello?

y/n? thank god!

what’s going on dustin? why are you out of breath? i hear growling, is everything alright?

you the most observant friend i have. so, here’s the sitch, remember all the monsters i told you about, the ones before the demobats and vecna himself?

yeah, in graphic detail, yeah. what about them?

yeah, so, they’re all here.

what the SHIT?! is everyone okay?

everyone is dandy. everyone say hi to y/n!

hi, y/n!

okay, good. i’m guessing you need all hands on deck.

you guessed right but it’s okay if you want out on this one. i don’t blame you.

who said i’m going to pass on my revenge? they took eddie from me, all this rage needs a home, you know?

then let’s bring that baby home.

——————————————————————————

you hop on the fastest flight to hawkins, indiana. fear does not hold place in your heart, anger takes over. you’re going back for eddie. you need to do this. somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that your doing this for eddie but you know deep inside that you’re doing this for you. maybe if you get hurt a little, if you sacrifice yourself like eddie did you won’t feel as guilty anymore. or maybe he’s still in that god-forsaken place, as scared as you were and you wanted to find him.

——————————————————————————

when vecna opens a portal for us, i felt you. i heard you i looked around but you’re not here. thank god. i want to see you but i also want you safe. when i come back to you, i will come back on my own, not with him.

“ah yes, scream for us, hawkins! remember this day as your last! i can almost taste it— fear! my most loyal ally. for years, you stood by me, only getting stronger, hawkins will soon be ours!”

bang

a bullet shot through vecna’s chest. but nancy, this creature does not have a heart anymore. only rage.

“eddie?” nancy shoots a confused look at eddie, recognizable only by his long hair.

“he’s not the same eddie you know. you labeled him freak, a monster, now that’s what he is”

eddie steps closer to the group, still eyeing for y/n, making sure they’re safe.

“he’s right, wheeler. this town drove me to my death. now i’ll drag all of you down with me.” his is words shoot daggers in him, he didn’t mean any of it

just as eddie was about to yield his sword in front his friends, only to use it against vecna at the very last moment, he hears footsteps and an all too familiar voice.

“eddie!”

he manages to slice vecna’s left hand clean off. he quickly turns around and when he does, vecna throws him across the other side of the field. he winces but he immediately gets up to run to you. he knows vecna will try and get to you first.

you’re running towards him too. sprinting, until you’re in his arms. finally.

what are you doing here?

what am i doing here?

it’s not safe, y/n and you know that!

you don’t hear any of his words. he’s finally here. you lean in for a kiss as he talks. he gives in. it felt like hours but you didn’t want it to end. he pulls away as he sees vecna walking towards you.

get behind me

no!

y/n, please!

no, i’m not leaving you, not again.

you stand hand in hand, the others still fighting off the other creatures vecna brought with him.

you think betraying me would stop me from getting what i want? you will die all over again, eddie and you’re bringing y/n down with you.

that won’t happen

do you really think y/n isn’t disgusted by the monster you’ve become? do you really think that in the time you were gone, y/n wouldn’t find someone else? look at them, edward. young, beautiful, full of promises, a bright and happy future. you’re taking that away from them.

you look at him with a blank expression. you take your hand away from his grip as you take a good look at him for the first time. he’s different. a monster. not eddie.

y/n…

vecna shows eddie y/n’s future.

when all of this ends and i take all of hawkins with me. they will leave this place behind. all the pain and suffering that comes with it. you. a part of her past that can easily be buried. you will never be enough for them. you can’t give them the happiness they deserve. face it. it was doomed from the start. you will never be what y/n needs.

eddie! please, wake up! eddie, PLEASE!

y/n…you-you don’t need me so please for the love of god RUN!

NO! the last time i did all i ever felt was pain. i dont need you? eddie, when you weren’t with me i was alive but i felt nothing at all. so you telling me that i don’t need you is bullshit because the moment i saw you again all i wanted to do was run to you, nothing else matters, eddie! just you! so i’m going to stay, i-

STOP IT! i’m not asking you, i’m telling you to run as far away from me as you can! this is my life now and it shouldn’t be yours! have you ever thought about how i could’ve found my way back on my own? i didn’t do that because i didn’t want to, okay? i DON’T love you anymore so there is no reason for you to stay! SO RUN!

eddie screams at you as his eyes widens and turns red. fear sets in your heart but you weren’t afraid of eddie, you were afraid of losing him.

y/n! PLEASE, NO! LET GO! TAKE ME INSTEAD! I WON’T EVER BETRAY YOU AGAIN JUST PLEASE LET THEM GO!

holy shit! y/l/n! steve tries to swing his nail bat at vecna but he manages to use his powers to throw him across the field. nancy goes after him to make sure he’s okay. robin throws a molotov at him but it didn’t work, the vile creature just walked through the flames unscathed. dustin and the rest of the younger ones ran off with hopper and joyce, ready to commence the most important part of their plan.

you continue to float in the air, eyes rolling until eddie couldn’t see your e/c pupils anymore. he knows this all too well. fear has his heart on a tight grip, he can’t lose you again.

oh but we can’t risk that again, can we, teddy?

he’s in your head. eddie knows what vecna is doing. he’s showing you your darkest fear and it hurts eddie that yours is the fear of him not loving you back. grasping at every solution he can think of, he tries bringing you back.

sunshine, do you remember the first time we met? it was at the trailer park. i was playing alone and you gave me flowers, said i looked lonely and then we played all day. you remember that? it was the happiest day of my life.

your body floats higher above the ground. your hands are starting to twist, eddie can tell you’re fighting it.

the first time i realized i loved you was in 5th grade. it was raining, we were on our bikes trying to rush home. i fell and cried, y/n, remember that? but you laughed at me then helped me up. you walked in the rain with me. i didn’t hear thunderstorms that night.

your neck starts to bend sideways, bones cracking. you scream, you can feel every ounce of pain. but you fight. you can’t leave him again.

eddie flashes in your head. him in his prom suit, this shit’s so fucking itchy he complains. eddie strumming his guitar. eddie singing the songs he wrote just for you. eddie reading lord of the rings with you. eddie giving you a bunch of ornamental kale, thinking they were flowers. all your happiest memories were of him. it was enough to fight back.

eddie charges at vecna and stabs his left eye. fueled with rage, eddie fights vecna. each swing of his sword, merciless as the creature writhes in pain. eddie fights with tears in his eyes. he doesn’t know if you’ll survive this. you have to. he tells you as if you can hear him.

vecna finally falls on his knees, evil reduced to a soft thud on the dirt,

i will be back. i am power in the purest form, you out of all people should know that.

vecna says as he turns into dust

power, yes. but an idle one. you will always lose.

and with a final swing of his sword, eddie ends him. for good.