#lets get wild up in hur

[chronically-ghosted]

unintentional tumblr hiatus hopefully over 😮‍💨

back to what matters - horny old man smut

[drizzledrawings]

Do you have a full master post of like your cowgirls lore, how they met, their backgrounds and situations they got in ect. I absolutely am obsessed with them.

Why thank you so so much

I’ve talked so much about them on here, but it’s scattered, and quite a lot of it has evolved lore wise

So let’s make this that master post:

Basic lore for this universe:

Set in a non specific time of the Wild West (implied to be the tail end of the era)

But with a magical twist. The folklore of things that are not quite human living alongside humanity is real, and they are hunted for their skin. It is a known fact that shapeshifters exist, and they are illegal. Though some peoples “magic blood” don’t always show itself as Shapeshifting, it can also appear as accelerated healing or acute senses. These people are generally referred to as beasts or animals

These transformations are hard on “beasts,” they take up a lot of strength to preform them, and if you’re injured in one form, it can take time before you’re able to switch. If you’re injured enough it can be permanent.

Brunette: Flora Guerra

She was born to an Italian immigrant family with strict parents, as well as the youngest daughter to five other children. When she was 16, her parents arranged a courtship with a much older man. Flora was furious, this rage culminated in her first transformation, unfortunately this happened in front of the man as well as the rest of her family. They immediately turned their backs on her, disgusted with what she was. Terrified, she fled. She hopped on trains and resorted to petty theft to make her way west, to a land she hoped would be freer than the life she left behind!

Her first big brush with the law was when she stole her horse Bandit from a man who was treating him poorly. She fled the scene but only after shooting one officer. (Thus her first ever bounty was for murder)

Her main way of making money was seducing men and robbing them blind while they were distracted by her beauty, unfortunately she picked up the wrong trick one day, a notorious gang leader, who instead of shooting her outright, brought a then 17 year old Flora back to his gang. She became “his girl” and used her looks to help him get what he wanted.

In the gang however there was one man who was like her! He could turn into a wolf, like how she could turn into a jackalope, they formed a bond, and when the gang fell apart, he was the one to get her out safely.

Ginger: Mattie (Matilda) Hayes

Mattie is the eldest daughter of her odd family. Her father and mother immigrated from Ireland, her mother dying during childbirth of her youngest child, Ben. Because of this, Mattie became the sole caretaker of him, very much raising him herself. The entire family were beasts of some sort.

Mattie could turn into a fox from a young age, her brother as well started to transform around the same time. (Though he was a cougar)

Their father, was also odd, in more ways than just beastly. He was a sour old man with a mean streak, drink had a mighty hold on him. After an incident that broke the camels back, involving hateful words and a smashed beer bottle, Mattie had enough. In a fit of rage she set fire to her father’s barn, in the aftermath She packed her bags and set to leave. She tried to get Ben to come, but he refused and told her to never come back. So she listened.

At 18, her and her horse June travelled the desert, finding odd jobs, pulling off some robberies, and failing at pickpocketing, this left her with quite a price on her head.

After a couple years of travelling by herself, the way she preferred, she ran into Flora for the first time.

First meeting:

They met as their animals first, Mattie was trying to hunt Flora but got startled by her horns.

Later on, she was trying to rob a man on the side of the road. Only for Flora to swoop in at the last moment and get the trick instead. (By “saving” the man, but picking his wallet a moment later)

That night, Mattie was nursing her hurt ego by drinking her weight at a saloon, but alas she couldn’t even enjoy her whiskey in peace, when the woman who stole her prize sat down at the bar with her.

Pissed off Mattie tried to storm away but bumped into an angry drunk, this turned into a full on bar fight. Which Flora dragged her away from and offered to patch up her wounds

They stuck together after that. But didn’t become lovers till much later

Flora fell first, but Mattie fell harder.

JESUS this is long I’m sorry

Anyways main plot:

Word gets to Mattie that her father is dead, and her younger brother has resorted to a life crime. He is being set to hang once he’s caught. She sets out to find him.

Flora’s old gang has picked up on her location, and they are hunting her down. Scared for Mattie’s safety she works with her old friend to figure out how to keep them off their trail.

The two of them have also been found out to be beasts by the law, so on top of being wanted because of their crimes, they are also being stalked by beast hunters.

Everything seems to be going okay, Mattie finds Ben, and together her and Flora help him get away from the noose, they look after him and bring them to their camp. They thought they were evading the hunters as well as the gang.

What they didn’t know was that Ben still held a grudge for Mattie leaving. He blames her for their father’s ultimate death.

He rats them out, not only to the hunters, but to Flora’s old gang. He figured that if he gave them their location, the law would let him go. They took the bargain.

The hunters and the gang ambush them, Ben leading the way.

Flora gets injured during the fight in her human form. Ben nearly kills her.

The siblings go head to head in their beastly forms, and against all odds, the fox beats the lion, killing the last remaining member of her family.

Flora, incredibly injured, cannot transform, and for reasons unknown to Mattie, she cannot switch back.

Years pass, Flora has a limp that doesn’t go away. She is never able to be her animal again. And Mattie, well, she didn’t get too injured that day, though it seems like something broke inside because she lost her human form.

They move north together, and live a peaceful life, even though it’s not quite normal. What with Mattie being a fox and all that.

A decade or so after everything, they’ve been out of the life for a long time, is when Mattie finally finds herself again. Though she’s very different to what she used to be, her human form had changed, more fox like and more wild, though still her. She can only take that form for bits at a time, but it’s something. They’re happy

If you read all of this… damn thank you!!

[joelscruff]

I have a prompt for you: Joel, reader and pillow humping. Do with this what you want 😁

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES. (this is short and not proofread don't come for me) i'm also combining this with another request i just got: joel and reader with the sentence “you say it’s big but you take it. ride cowgirl.” from frank ocean pyramids😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 when i say this isn't proofread, i mean it!!! it's probably bad!!! i'm sorry!!!!!!!! i just wanted to write something lmao

you wake in the middle of the night with a fire burning in your tummy. you can barely remember the dream you just had but the lasting effect is evident as you shove your hand down under the blankets and feel your pussy, wet and sticky beneath your fingers. fuck.

joel is fast asleep beside you and you know better than to wake him; he's had trouble sleeping these past few nights and this is the first time in a while that he hasn't been tossing and turning. you don't want to deprive him of that pleasure.

but you don't want to deprive yourself of pleasure either.

you start to rub yourself, scrunching up your face in satisfaction as you give your clit the treatment it deserves, releasing some of that ache and pressure in your belly. but it's not enough; the angle isn't right, the feeling of your fingers. you don't like masturbating, not anymore, not since you met joel and he started keeping you more than satisfied almost every single day. touching yourself has lost its spark and after rubbing your clit for a few moments you realize it's not gonna get you where you need to be.

you sit up, being careful not to jostle joel too much as you grab your pillow and slide off the bed. you place it on the floor, watching from the corner of your eye to make sure he's still sleeping. then, with quick hands, you yank your panties off and settle easily onto the pillow, spreading your legs around it and kneeling on the floor. the coolness of it against your wet heat makes you bite back a whimper.

you dig your hands into the carpet, baring down on the pillow and letting the edge of it slip past your puffy and swollen lips. it rubs perfectly against your clit, foreign enough that it no longer feels like you're getting yourself off.

you turn your head to look at joel, lying there looking peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps through your sudden depravity. he's so handsome, hair grey and tousled against his pillow, forehead and jaw solid and firm, lips parted and slightly wet beneath his scruffy beard and mustache. a few hours ago he'd had that mouth against your pussy, suckling at your clit and fingering your hole until he'd made you come. you keep that image in your head now as you grind against the pillow, soft and supple.

it's only after a few more gyrations that you realize his eyes are suddenly open. you freeze, staring back at him and wondering what he could possibly think of you right now, crouched on the floor like some kind of wild animal while you fuck yourself against a pillow.

"what are you doing, baby?" he murmurs, not moving from his place on the bed.

"i don't know," your face is red but you start to grind against the pillow again, no longer worried about the whimpers bubbling past your lips, "i just wanna come."

he sits up in bed then, pulls back the covers and tugs his boxers down; he's already half hard from watching you, "come here, baby, sit on it."

you scramble up from the floor, leaving your wet pillow behind as you climb back in bed and crawl over to him, pulling yourself up and hovering over his dick. he holds it in place, watches you sink down on it with no preparation whatsoever.

"fuck," he groans, "what a way to wake up."

you're too distracted by the stretch of him to know what to say, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down hard on your lip as his girth stretches your hole. you regret not fingering yourself; why'd you have to go straight for the pillow? his cock feels good inside of you but the burn is almost too much.

"i should've prepped," you whimper, "it kinda hurts."

his brow furrows, "what? baby, why didn't you tell me?" he moves to pull out of you and you bare down on him quickly, shaking your head.

"no, joel, it's a good hurt. it's so big," you look at him with hazy eyes, feeling simultaneously half asleep and wide awake, "and it's getting bigger. fuck." you whine then, a high keening sound that has you wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in closer, "oh my god, it feels amazing."

he holds you close and lets you get used to his size, growing larger the longer he's inside you. you've taken his cock countless times before but never without him fingering you first, and never when he was only half hard to begin with. the sheer size of him just continues to fill you up the longer you sit there, a deep groan emitting from your throat when he's finally at his peak size.

"oh, fuck," you moan, "okay, fuck me. fuck me." you suddenly feel frantic, lips against his ear as his hands find their familiar place on your back. he hears you loud and clear, immediately fucking up into you and giving you what you need. the head of his cock pounds fervently against your cervix and your eyes roll back, already feeling like you could come at any second.

"what's gotten into you, baby?" he asks between thrusts, gripping you tightly as he bounces you up and down, "you need cock that bad, huh?"

"yours," you whimper, "your cock, no one else's."

"needed it so bad you fucked a pillow," he groans, fucking you faster, "just had to have something touching that needy little pussy. absolutely shameless. does it still hurt, baby?"

"n-no," you shake your head, "doesn't hurt."

he suddenly stops thrusting, stills inside you and leans back against the headboard, "then you do the work for a bit, i'm tired."

"joel," you whine, pulling back to look at him, "that's not fair."

"you woke me up, baby," he whispers, the ghost of a smile on his face, "i was sleeping so good and you woke me up with your pretty little whimpers."

you pout, "it's too big," you're laying it on thick, hoping he'll come around, "i'm tired too, can't do it by myself."

he smiles, "it's not too big, baby. it's made for you," he reaches down and lands a playful smack against your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly, "now ride it."

it takes a few seconds for you to get back into a rhythm but before long you're pulling yourself up and down on his cock, loving the way it slides all the way in and hits the deepest part of you and then pulls all the way out. joel just watches you with sleepy eyes, squeezes your ass and smirks every time you cry out.

he knows when you're close, has seen that expression on your face and felt the way your pussy tightens around him too many times to not know what it means. he reaches down and rubs your clit, smiling when you moan his name and start twitching in his lap.

"there it is," he murmurs, "that's what you wanted."

you're vaguely aware of him finishing a few seconds later, coming inside of you without having to ask; he knows you want it. your legs are shaking when he pulls you off, lays you beside him and strokes your hair. you can feel yourself drifting off again but before you can fall asleep you feel him place his pillow beneath your head.

"but-" you start to protest, opening your eyes again and watching as he leans over you on the bed, reaching down onto the floor for the pillow you'd fucked yourself against only moments ago.

"shhh, go to sleep baby," he whispers, picking it up and placing it on his side of the bed, "i want this one."

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Dub-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[shanniees]

— ?̸ Stress

Warning : sex, this will be a short oneshot, Bruce dominant, oral sex, vaginal sex, fingering, spanking, tie dolls.

Synopsis : Bruce returns to the mansion after a stressful night being Batman and fighting crime, so he comes to you to relieve his stress.

Note : My English is not my main language, so please forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

the way your gummy and wet walls are gonna stretch to take him, the way you’re gonna tighten around him like a vice as he whines and whimpers when he pumps into you.

— "Fuck, shit, you're so tight" — He grunted, the thrusts were going faster, his movements were so strong that you couldn't help but moan loudly from the pleasure that was overwhelming you, your moans echoing throughout the room. You hope Alfred or Damian doesn't hear your loud moans.

How did you get to this? Your husband now fucking you like he was a wild animal in heat, well that was because because he came to the manor with stress, entering the batcave. He had just arrived from an investigation, he still has not solved the case, and there are more missing people, it is only known that there is a murderer on the loose out there in Gotham.

He arrived so stressed that he literally threw his mask on the table and left the Batcave, just saying one something to Alfred — "No" — and he went to his shared room where you were, his wife, he needed you now.

—"Bruce, y-you're going too fast" — You stuttered but your voice was silenced when his lips crashed onto yours, swallowing all your words and moans from you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.You closed your eyes tightly, you couldn't do anything because your wrists were now over your head, tied with a scarf that he found in the room while he was fucking you.

— "Shhh, shut up" — he growled, his hand rose to slap one of your buttocks, you moaned loudly, arching your back upwards, you gasped, surprised by his act, you were blushing, small tears betrayed themselves in the corners of your eyes. — "Who is my little bitch, tell me? Tell me who you belong to" — He said while his thrusts were accelerating.

— "You! "I am yours my love!" — You moaned loudly as you climaxed, coming on his thick cock. Bruce smiled along with a moan of pleasure as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. He continued thrusting into you until he reach the climax.

He let out a grunt of pure pleasure, his fingers went to your center, gently rubbing your clit, you gasped and moaned, writhing beneath him as he pulled his cock inside of you.

Suddenly you felt Bruce's hand grab you, turning you back, leaving you on all fours and your pretty ass exposed to him, he couldn't help but give another spank towards that pretty ass of yours, making you moan. You opened your eyes, surprised to know what Bruce was going to do. — "Bruce w-wait that's going to hur-" — You couldn't finish the sentence when his cock slid hard into you, you screamed loudly as you felt his big cock in your little hole, it hurt a lot.

— "I'll make you moan my name all night" — He growled before starting to move.

[velvet4510]

I guess I’m one of those weirdos who so deeply feels the essence of an instrumental leitmotif from a film score associated with a particular character or couple, that I start associating said leitmotifs in my head with ANOTHER character from an entirely different film/book/series. And I’ve built up a whole library of leitmotifs for LOTR characters even though I ADORE Howard Shore’s original score for the trilogy. I consider these leitmotifs to be add-ons, NOT replacements.

Nor do I intend to completely disassociate all of these themes from their intended films/characters; some of them are perfect fits for the films they were written for. It’s just my mind going wild like usual. (But I admit, in some cases, the pieces are from films I dislike, and thus I would rather see these great songs associated with something of LOTR quality rather than what they were actually stuck with, especially when the lack of lyrics gives you the freedom to let the melody take you wherever it takes you, personally.)

In the case of Silmarillion characters and relationships, well, it’s a different story - it really is my attempt to cobble together what could be a hypothetical score, if it were brought to the screen. Obviously it’d never be this exactly, but I would hope a composer for a potential screen adaptation of The Silmarillion might be inspired by themes like these.

In some cases, the characters these themes were originally written for don’t resemble the corresponding LOTR characters very much, or at all. Also some of them have titles that by themselves could not be more different from and unfitting for Tolkien’s world. It’s just the melodies on their own, without context or even name, performed by these gorgeous orchestras, that have come to remind me of particular Tolkien figure(s).

I also have found lots of “love themes”, both romantic and platonic, for character relationships, as you’ll see. I’ve included romantic themes for canonical couples, as well as for pairings that I personally ship. I know Shore already gave Aragorn and Arwen a theme, but as I said, these are all extra additions and not replacements.

And yes I have a lot of Star Wars stuff in here, because I love Star Wars…but I love Tolkien more.

For the heck of it I’ll share some of these, with links to each song on YT. It’s hard to explain why I made these choices/associations, but maybe you’ll get it if you listen to some of them.

CHARACTER THEMES

The Valar = “Guardians of the Whills Suite” by Michael Giacchino

Lúthien Tinúviel = “Once Upon a Time in the West” by Ennio Morricone

Túrin Turambar = “Anakin’s Theme” by John Williams

Nienor Níniel = “Helena’s Theme” by John Williams

Frodo Baggins = “Romeo” by Nino Rota

Sam Gamgee = “Rey’s Theme” by John Williams

Aragorn = “The John Dunbar Theme” by John Barry

Gandalf = “Yoda’s Theme” by John Williams

Legolas = “Rose Tico” by John Williams

Éowyn = “Marion’s Theme” by John Williams

THEMES FOR LANDS/LOCATIONS

The Undying Lands = “Out of Africa” by John Barry

ROMANTIC LOVE THEMES

Frodo x Sam = “Love Theme from Ben-Hur” by Miklos Rozsa

Beren x Lúthien = “Love Theme from The Godfather” by Nino Rota

Faramir x Éowyn = “Han Solo and the Princess” by John Williams

Aragorn x Arwen = “Love Theme from Cinema Paradiso” by Ennio Morricone

Sam x Rosie = “Love Theme from Dances with Wolves” by John Barry

Bilbo x Thorin = “Andante Cantabile” by Bernard Herrmann

Thingol x Melian = “Indecent Proposal” by John Barry

Fingon x Maedhros = “Wuthering Heights” by Alfred Newman

Galadriel x Celeborn = “Central Park” by James Newton Howard

Finrod x Bëor = “Somewhere in Time” by John Barry

Aegnor x Andreth = “Love Theme from The Scarlet Letter” by John Barry

Finduilas x Gwindor = “Deborah’s Theme” by Ennio Morricone

Túrin x Beleg = “Across the Stars” by John Williams

Mablung x Nienor = “Wanda and Vision” by Christophe Beck

Tuor x Idril = “Conversation Piece” by Bernard Herrmann

Eärendil x Elwing = “Tennessee” by Hans Zimmer

Elrond x Celebrían = “And Then I Kissed Him” by Hans Zimmer

Pippin x Diamond = “Love Theme from East of Eden” by Leonard Rosenman

Merry x Estella = “Love Theme from Rebel Without a Cause” by Leonard Rosenman

Elanor x Fastred = “Theme from A Summer Place” by Max Steiner (arranged by Percy Faith)

PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP THEMES

Elrond & Elros = “Brothers” by Hans Zimmer

Merry & Pippin = “Flying” by John Williams

Legolas & Gimli = “Rain Man” by Hans Zimmer

Boromir & Faramir = “Luke and Leia” by John Williams

Bilbo & Frodo* = “The Mother’s Love” by Miklos Rozsa

Sam & Elanor = “The Ludlows” by James Horner

I may add to this as I think of more, or even replace certain songs entirely if I come across a better match. Always return to the pinned post here to see the most recently updated list.

* Bilbo & Frodo’s melody is heard in the first minute of the linked track, 0:00–1:01, and again at 1:48. Also, the love theme I associate with Frodo & Sam starts playing at 1:03, making this whole thing fit all the hobbits even better.

[imawreck]

Escape

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Max continues to pursue her mission, and Wanda is intent on stopping her… no matter what.

Warnings: wounds, blood, gore, cursing, mental manipulation, most warnings from the other chapters as well.

Word Count: 3,548

Bucky-

"-Uck. Bucky!" 

I stalled in the hallway at Steve's sudden voice in my ear. "Steve? Why weren't you answering?"

There was a pause before he answered. "I think being down so far is messing with the Comms. I had a run in with Max. She headed up towards the second floor."

Hearing him set my nerves at ease, if only a little. "Alright, so we regroup and head up. The others are still up there. We can corner her."

"We could miss our chance and I don't want to risk it. I'm following her up. Whatever you do, don't go down the hall I took. She did something to the doors." 

The sound of metal wrenching open echoed from further into the building and I quickened my pace away from it and back towards the stairwell we had come from. "We're supposed to stay in our teams! Splitting up down here was a mistake." The groaning of metal was getting louder as I hustled down the hall. "Steve, just wait up. I'm almost to the stairwell."

"Bucky!"

My boots skidded to a halt as I whipped my head around. It hadn't come from the stairwell.

"Bucky, that's not me!"

Out of the darkness, I caught a glimpse of red, white, and blue. The silver star glinted in the red emergency lights as Steve hauled himself down the hall towards me. He looked like shit, an arm limp at his side as he tried and failed to kick up his pace towards me. 

I frowned at him, hurring over to throw an arm around him. "I heard you on the comms—"

He coughed, clenching his fingers around his side and pinching his face in pain. "That's the thing, it wasn't me." Steve took a shallow breath in, "Max stole my Comms."

It didn't make any sense at all. I had heard his voice, not hers. "That can't be right. I swore I heard you."

"I know what you thought you heard, because I thought I heard you too before she showed up and threw me into a wall. She used your voice to lure me in." Steve's eyes went wide and a little wild. "She can copy us like some sort of voice recorder.”

I stared at him for a long moment, letting his words settle in. "So... you're telling me that Max is the one on the Comms."

He nodded, "She's using my voice to get to you."

Like he had summoned her, Steve's voice trickled through my ear again. I stared at his unmoving face as I heard his words, "You said you were almost to the stairwell, right? What's taking you so long? If I run into her again, I can't take her on alone."

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to detect a difference between the voice in my ear and the one I had just heard from the very man in front of me. There wasn't one. With a shaky hand, I pressed my finger to my ear, "Max?"

There was silence that followed until a tired sigh filtered through the speaker. "Game's up, huh? Captain is more resilient than he looks."

My hand went clammy with sweat as my heart raced behind my ribs. I motioned for Steve to follow me as I shuffled as quietly as I could up the staircase. She could be waiting up there for us and Steve was in no shape to hold his own. I would have to be a buffer between them if she attempted to ambush us. 

Her next words had my blood freezing in my veins. I could practically hear the smile in her voice. "Somebody is coming to play, gotta go boys."

_____

Max-

Footsteps thumped in the darkness of the hall. It was more confined on the second floor, less places to hide and less room to maneuver around. They were coming faster, two sets. One pair was light, less weight to it and far too practiced to be anyone other than the Widow. The other was heavy, but restrained nonetheless. The archer.

An odd weight sat on my chest, roiled in my stomach as images—memories—flooded my head.

Slender fingers cupped around a shadowed jaw, lips against each other. The thought set my blood alight like fire. Orders rang in my head, 'Play with them.'

Handler didn't omit maiming, or killing. 

Knives found themselves a home in my palm as their steps grew closer. I had left the stairwell, pushed away by the need to put distance between the Soldat and I. Something about him unsettled me deeply. Being near him had my heart rattling abnormally in place and my limbs seemed to forget their practiced stillness. Like he was a weakness to this body.

At the first glimpse of red hair, I let loose a blade. The Widow barely had time to drop out of the way before it could bury itself in her head. The archer was quick to cover fire with arrows that sent smoke crawling up the walls. The scent of fire burned thick in my nose as I moved several paces back, putting distance between the target and myself. Smoke was a quick move, a smart one, but it stole their vision as well as my own. 

I heard a bowstring draw and waited until the arrowhead split the air before I made any move to avoid the oncoming shot. The arrowhead pounded into the concrete, burying itself into the cement six inches from where my side would've been. A nonfatal hit.

They weren't trying to kill. Their objective could only be capture.

"Any reason for the death-blade you tossed over here? It seemed a bit personal." Her fluttering feminine voice was laced with sarcasm.

"Maybe it was." The words forced themselves from my lips without my consent, and I shook my head as I tried to restrain any other words from spilling out. Having them all near was... confusing me.

"Maybe Max is still in there after all." The archer spoke this time, and I heard them shift behind the receding smoke.

I didn't offer up a response before I launched into a run, dropping low and sliding against the ground with the momentum. I kicked the archers legs from under him and snagged an arrow from his sheath, burying it in his thigh. His scream was harsh and grating as I shoved back to my feet just in time to avoid a kick to my sternum by the Widow.

Her fist crashed into my ribs quick and forceful, knocking the breath from me and jostling me enough to have me stumbling a few steps. She took the opportunity to get in a few more precise hits before a searing hot bolt of anger had me stepping into her space close enough to ram my hand against her jugular. She sputtered, clutching at her neck while I struck again at her knees. Her back hit the concrete hard and I craved to finish her off, but my chance was abruptly cut off as an arrow buried itself in my calf.

A scream tore through me as I clutched at the wound, baring my teeth at the archer with his bow still drawn. I took a short breath and tore it out before I pushed back to my feet. Loosing a pair of knives from my belt, I launched them both towards his legs. One caught his knee, slicing along the side deep enough to have him stumbling to the side with a grunt. I was on him in seconds with an uppercut to the jaw, laying him out cold on the bunker floor.

Before I could register the pounding steps behind me, a weight had settled onto my hips and a wire was looping around my neck. I forced my hand under the cord as I sucked in a shallow breath, backpedaling hard into the wall. The Widow grunted but her wire only tightened itself around my throat.

Panic began seeping into my bones as I struggled to fight with my depleting oxygen. I reached up, clawing at anything I could get my fingers on. My vision was getting spotty and in a few moments I would be either out or dead. Neither of those were my orders and the protocol instilled inside of me refused to allow me to fail. In a spur of fear, something triggered inside of me. I felt something along my spine shift, clicking into place and releasing a sudden pressure. The Widow screamed, her wire disappearing with her weight as she fell to the floor.

I dropped to the ground with her, scrambling away from her as I choked in air. I peered over my shoulder at her form laid up against the wall. Blood was painting her uniform in a dotted line straight up her torso. Her hands were pressed against parts of it to staunch the bleeding.

The clicking that happened right before she fell repeated itself, the muscles in my back tightening and pinching before a distinct 'shick' echoed through the corridor. My muscles eased once more and only the dull thrum of pain was left. The Widow looked at me with horror painted over her face as I shoved up from the floor and leveled out my feet, favoring my injured calf.

I moved over to her and she inched away from me in turn. My foot landed harshly on her extended leg, eliciting a sharp snap and her pained cry. "Follow and I'll kill you." It would be her only warning.

I turned sharp on my heel, heading for the stairwell to catch the two super soldiers. As I was about to round the corner, Iron Man's voice met my ears. "The Chairmen has evacuated the building and is awaiting his chopper. Any intel on Max?"

I stilled, calculating where the best place to land a chopper would be. Maybe the valley just before the building's entrance. It was the flattest terrain closest to the building, and the Chairman and his guards wouldn't fair well in the cold for very long. The longest it would take the chopper to land would be thirty minutes at the longest. 

I had thirty minutes to get to him.

_____

Wanda-

My fingers were stiff from the cold drifting in from the broken doorway. Vision and I had once again scoured the first floor for any signs of Ghost. Every room was checked and Vision found every nook she could hide in. There was nothing. She hadn't made it back up yet. 

All of the team had heard about Steve's run in with her and gauged their position based off of the words exchanged between the pair of super soldiers. They were somewhere between the second and third floor. I knew that Clint and Natasha had made their way to the second floor and hoped that they would somehow corner her and resolve this mission quickly. 

A part of me didn't want them to find her, though.

I wanted her to pay for what she did to my brother, for the life she stole from him and the pain she had caused me. He was the only family I had left and she took him from me. 

She deserved to pay.

I wanted to find her and pick her apart, find out what really happened in those memories of hers and find what made her tick. Then I wanted to snuff it out just like she had done to Pietro. My powers would allow me to.

They had grown in my bout of rage, done things I never even fathomed I could do. I could read people's minds and see what they saw. I could influence them too, make them do things to bend to my will. I was powerful, unstoppable.

The soft whisper of Vision passing through the wall in front of me drew my attention back to the reality of our situation. Ghost was somewhere below us throuncing around and causing mayhem and I needed to get to her.

"Vision," I called, "I think we should make our way towards the stairwell to the second floor. Maybe we can stop her from getting up here."

There was a moment when a flicker of thought flashed over his features and he nodded, floating down the hall towards the stairs. I followed him close behind.

"I know you are angry, Wanda."

My eyes snapped towards him and I couldn't help the bite that followed my words. "She killed my brother."

He nodded as if he understood. "She is under the influence of a serum. It was against her will."

"That doesn't make it any easier. Let me ask you something. You know how dangerous she is, the threat she poses just walking around. Do you think she should live?" We had stopped our trek toward the stairs in favor of looking at each other. I waited for him to say something, anything at all.

"Well," he paused, eyeing the wall besides me deep in thought. "Tony has the power and potential to be a very dangerous man. We all do, really. That's not far from asking if you should live even though you have the power that you possess."

I should've expected such a reply from him, but it didn't stop the brewing anger I felt writhing in my stomach. "Let's get moving." My heel spun on the pavement before I pushed away from him on my march towards the stairwell. 

I didn't get very far before I came face to face with a silver-eyed assassin.

She looked equally as concerned as I did until her haunting eyes snapped to something behind me and she took a couple steps backwards. The bolt of fear I felt at the thought of her fleeing had me sending a surge of power out and around the fallen doors and yanking them from their place down the hall and hurtling towards the empty hallway behind her. I aligned them with the hall and crammed them into place, the echo of metal scraping cement filling the air. 

Ghost didn't so much as flinch as she watched the dust settle from beneath them. Her eyes only shifted back towards me with a chilling steadiness. A hand came up to press against her side and for a moment her eyes dragged down to the bloody leg of her uniform and the small pool of red that had begun to collect under her boot. Having her injured gave us an advantage.

Vision still hovered at my side in silence, watching her every move. Ghost plucked a knife from her belt and sent it flying towards me, but it stopped short as my power stole its momentum and left it hovering mid-air. 

Ghost tilted her head, clicking her tongue, before she threw her body towards us.

I could almost laugh, really. She was closing in, barreling down the hall towards Vision and I at full speed, and all I had to do was wait for the right moment before I could deliver a blow. My powers itched to be released, whispering around my fingers and winding over my shoulders. Her feet pounded the ground a foot away from me, and I released a surge towards her in hopes it would knock her clear into the barrier I had created. I almost felt giddy at the thought.

That was, until her fist connected with my nose with a sickening crunch and pain erupted across my face.

Vision yelled my name, and a blurry image of his form flickered into view before a splotch of white whizzed by. He turned away from me and shot off down the hall. I pushed myself up and wiped viciously at the blood trickling down my nose.

Why hadn't it worked? How did she evade my powers? It was impossible! She should be smashed against the barrier doors!

Anger fueled me to my feet as I caught sight of Vision and Ghost down the hall circling each other. Ghost's eyes were wide and her jaw was clenched. She stood a little to the left, keeping her weight off her right leg which continued to bleed across the concrete floor. Vision shot forward and gripped the front of her uniform before he slammed her against the wall beside him. She struggled against him, clawing at his arms and chest, but it was no use. 

Her fist connected hard with his face, knocking him back a step and easing his grip on her uniform enough to give her other fist a chance to knock into the stone glowing against his red skin. Vision recoiled, blinking rapidly in a daze. She tried to shuffle away to escape down the hall, but he grabbed the back of her utility belt and pulled her to the floor. With her pinned below him, vision lifted his fist and smashed it across her left cheek, knocking her head to the side. Our eyes connected as she spit blood across the ground, anger lighting her silver eyes. 

My body stilled, vision tunneling in on her. Something akin to vines snaked across the floor, vibrant and blue. It wasn't until they inched close across the floor towards me that I realized they weren't vines at all. Much like my own power, the blue tendrils twirled and crawled as they reached towards me. I tried to move, to shift away, but I was locked in place. One of them curled around my leg and another sprung up to wrap around my waste and suddenly I was being lurched forward into darkness.

Complete, and utter darkness.

The tendrils of blue were gone and so was the floor and the chill of the mountain. It was quiet, eerily so, and my body felt like cotton. I turned, but I was met with more nothingness in every direction. "Vision?"

No one responded. My voice didn't even echo. The darkness just swallowed it up. I began taking hesitant steps forward in hopes that I would find a way out. I had no idea how I had even gotten here or where here was.

I walked for several minutes until something cold caught my foot and sent me stumbling a few steps. I twirled around, spotting a cold metal handle protruding from the ground. A withered wooden door was attached to it and it groaned as if a weight was pressing up against it. 

Something about its appearance sent a chill running up my spine. It was the only thing I had seen other than pitch blackness for several minutes, but something about it wasn't right. The wood groaned again, and a cry resounded from behind it muffled by the surface. I dropped down beside it as I heard it, pressing my ear against the rough exterior and willing my hearing to catch it again.

And it did, soft and pleading.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled hard, yanking against whatever force held it in place. It took a few tries before it snapped open and I hauled it to the side, peering into more darkness below. But the cry came again in the form of a scream. With the door out of the way, I could tell it was from a child. Their voice was high pitch and filled with fear and sobbing.

"Please," it cried, "it was an accident! I didn't mean to Commander, please!" There was a harsh thump and the child wailed louder.

 I clamored down, my heart pounding in my ears. Why was a child here? What on earth was happening?

I pushed my arms out, fumbling around in the darkness. There was another door illuminated by a single lantern hung on the wall. It looked old and weather worn, barely clinging to life as the flame fluttered inside it. The handle was cold under my fingers as I swallowed, hesitating to open it. "Hello?"

I didn't have to pull for the door to open this time, it opened on it's own. I was thrown back by the force of it, colliding with the floor as it swung open and crashed into the wall beside it.

Screams filled the air, thousands of them, in a cacophony of noise that slammed into me. Hands reached out from the doorway covered in blood and grime as they clawed towards me. A whip cracked from somewhere beyond them in the darkness and the child continued to wail in the chaos of all the noise. 

I covered my ears, overwhelmed by the sorrow and horrors that began pouring out of the doorway. I couldn't shut my eyes in time though, not before a body fell out of the frame and flopped to the floor beside me. My eyes were drawn to his familiar face, to the blonde curls sprouting from his head and the smooth shape of his nose. 

Pietro.

But his eyes were grey and empty, and his body was limp as black blood pooled out of the wounds he had died from. It colored the bottom of my boots and spread across the floor towards me. I shoved away from it, mortified by the sight of his dead body here of all places.

And I screamed.

Tags<3

@blackbirdwitch22 / @greatmistakes / @greatenthusiasttidalwave / @cjand10 / @hzdhrtss / @calwitch / @imdoingathingmom / @readawaythereality2

[goatakiart]

Please don't forget me (Part 2)

(Mirage x Reader)

Art by me 🥰

Warning! (Adult themes, triggering topics, blood, alcohol etc.)

A month has passed

Mc could befriend Mirage in the end, he accepted to be in her squad and everything was fine at first but they had some conflicts...

The battlefield is going wild, the sun is hot and their lives are at stake all over again. Mirage wears a painful expression, his clothes ripped and dirty and his hair messy, strands falling all over infront of his face, hastily he is closing the door behind him where he has trapped mc inside, she yells at him conflicted "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING???",she bangs at the door till her hands bruise, while on the other side of the door, Mirage falls down, you can only face his back from the glass of the door where he now rests ,he is groaning and sweating in agony while holding tight on to himself, she can see blood trailing on his clothes, all while an enemy team is fighting nearby, she tries to convince him to let her out but no use, his breathing is heavy and his eyes are losing focus, unable to hear mc's voice anymore.

She frowns and gets up in steady, heavy movements as she's mumbling angrily, taking off her jacket, "MOTHERFUCKING DOOR!!!" She screams at the top of her lungs as she suddenly raises her leg to kick the barrier between her and Mirage. He falls down from the force together with the door, he whispers to her not to go, her furious stare is piercing him, she feels the urge to murder him herself, however she choose to ignore the anger at this urgent moment. Everything is loud, explosions are heard and the smell of blood and gun powder is making her feel dizzy, anything is barely seen beyond the smoke and the strong sunlight, she kneels down to Mirage and caress his hair away from his face, he gives her a pitiful look as he's unable to move and stop mc from fighting, "You're really cute when you can't get in my way." She smiles at him seductively and slide her hand lower to his belt, his cheeks flushed, "Wha--", the moment doesn't last long, he couldnt finish his sentense as he realized mc actually stole his gun, her smile now is turned to a grin as she gets up and stands in front of Mirage's collapsing body, "Let me handle this." She takes both weapons on her hands, she shoots maniacally towards the enemies, nothing is clear through the smoke, a grenade comes their way, a second of silence falls between him and mc, she panics for a moment looking around but having no time she decides to kick the grenade towards the enemies and shoot it without hesitation before it explodes on her face, blasting everyone away from them. He definitely thought she's cute but now she seems a bit scary. "Not bad right?" She turns to face him proudly, he shakes as he can barely move and does thumbs up with an awkward smile then passes out from blood loss.

The next day

Mirage was taken to the hospital for treatment, Mc sat next to him, waiting for him to wake up, brought him some snacks, and placed a glass of orange juice on the table. She is not surprised at all and looks rather annoyed, not because she doesn't care, but because he keeps trying to play the human shield every time they are on the battlefield. This has happened four times already in a whole month. "Unacceptable..." she mumbles. When he finally wakes up he raises his head, knowing exactly where mc sits thanks to the frequency of these accidents, he's awkward about the whole situation and tries to smile but he finds himself hurting even with that simple gesture, she doesn't even turn her head from her phone, just sitting and playing a game, "The meds are doing this, the doctor said all your muscles will be stiff for awhile, you luckily didn't break any bones again, you just hit your head, leg and you had a small internal bleeding, it stopped immediately after the shots the nurses gave you." His expression changed, he's thoughtful, he opens his mouth to talk even tho it hurts, but he'd rather not stop."I'm sorry." She raises her head slowly radiating a threatening energy as she puts the phone down, she tilts her head to stare at him in anger and he knows why "It's not that I don't trust you, you know that right?" He makes an attempt to calm her down, but her expression remains cold, she replies to him, not moving an inch "But I don't trust you. I can fight, you can fight too, then why do you make our survival chances thinner and thinner? You're not a shield, Mirage, and I'm NOT gonna die if that's what you're scared of." She gets up and walks up to him. She leans on top of his head, placing her arms on the sides of the bed, "Why are you doing this? The others won't tell me anything, and you just avoid having this kind of conversation with me, I didn't know you're a coward." She let go of the bed, straighten her position, preparing to leave, but in her surprise, Mirage grabs her arm pulling her back in, thanks to the force now their faces are inches away from each other, the room suddenly feels hot, they stare at each other unable to talk, he finally tries to make a move "Y-you're right. Thank you for coming to see me again." He smiles innocently, her eyebrows frown in embarrassment as her cheeks feel warm, but she moves away before he notices "Of course I would, you're my squadmate." She throws the snacks at him "Get well soon. We have a drinking party in a week." Now she walks out of the room and closes the door behind her, stopping to relax on the wall outside his room. She feels her heart flying out of her chest. "This fucking idiot, I swear..." She mutters as she walks away hastily to meet the other legends outside the hospital.

[empressaraceli1992]

So, we've all read one-shots or parts of stories where Ghost reacts violently to a nightmare, and (depending on the writer) usually stops before any real damage is done. I.e. knife to the throat, punch to the face nothing broken or irreparable harm done. So what happens if Ghost DOES hurt the person? Badly.

You knew what it was like to have nightmares. You knew the horrors that you faced everyday did things to your mind. So when you heard the low keening of someone fighting a nightmare, you didn't think twice. Slipping out from beneath your warm blanket you padded over to the suffering party.

To your surprise - though it really shouldn't be considering the man went through the same hell you did day in and day out - it was Ghost who was keening. Ghost was not a fan of being touched when conscious, there was no telling how he would respond unconscious. But you knew, sap that you were, you could not let him suffer alone. Gently, oh so gently, you lay a hand on his back.

Three things happened in very quick succession.

Ghost whirled -

A flash of metal -

Pain, oh God the pain! -

Ghost buried at blade into your left shoulder between the bones. You gasped. You knew he didn't mean, knew he didn't want to do, but God it hurt. You could feel blood gushing down your arm. Ghost's wild eyes bore into you. You feel like you're going to puke, but you know if you move wrong he will kill you.

Breathing carefully through your nose you loft your right hand, slowly, to Ghosts. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist you speak to him in a soft voice.

"Simon, it's me. It's _____." You rub your thumb across his wrist. It takes a moment, several minutes in fact for Ghost to calm down enough to see you. When he does his dark eyes go wide in horror.

Shit, no he cannot panic right now.

"Simon, Simon look at me." He's shaking. "Simon, come on you've done training for this." You soothe him despite the growing dizziness. "Come on, access the damage. Is the wound life threatening?"

Ghost examines your injury, carefully letting go of the hilt of the blade he places his fingers on either side of your shoulders.

"N-No." He sucks in a deep breath through his mask. "It's clean, between the bone, no major arteries have been hit."

"Good." You run your tongue across your lips. Why were you so cold? "Is it safe to remove the blade?"

Ghost nodded, but he made no move to pull the knife out. "We need to get you to medical."

"Am I stable enough?" You argue, careful to keep your voice level.

"Yes...if I hurry." Ghost scooped you up, apologizing when you hiss in pain, and sprints to the infirmary. "Stay with me___. No don't close your eyes."

You wake up, alone, three days later. The doctors inform you that you almost bled out on the way there despite no major arteries being hit - your attempt to soothe Ghost nearly cost you your life.

Not that you minded. You you would do it again. If it meant saving him, and ultimately someone else from him. Price had his hands full trying to avoid disciplinary action for Ghost.

You tell him there will be none, you're fine, and Ghost didn't mean it. Ghost, who sat in Price's office pale, and obviously exhausted looked at you funny. You pat his shoulder and ask him to come speak to you later.

When he arrives in your room sometime later you tell him to lay down. He does, confused, wondering if this is his punishment. You curl up next to him, your left arm draped carefully over him.

"Sleep, you need it."

"I don't want to hur-"

"You won't." You assure him. "You didn't before."

He snorts angrily gesturing at your bandaged shoulder.

"You want to make it up to me?" He nods. "Shut up and sleep. You need it, I need it, we'll deal with the rest later."

[heliads]

Can I request a Peter Pan imagine? Based on the pic of what I wrote

i don't write for OCs anymore so i just made this a y/n fic, but i really liked this one so i hope you enjoy!

masterlist

The night is getting to you again. You’ve felt it in the recent months, or even in the recent years, this all-encompassing wave of grief for a family you never had, but it seems to hit especially hard once the sun goes down. None of this is really your fault, of course, and there’s nothing you can do about it, but still. There is something horrid in knowing that your mother was the Evil Queen Regina, a woman who could handle any spell or challenge that came her way except her own daughter. 

You suppose you should be grateful that you’re not dead. She tried to leave you that way, anyway, had her guard leave you out in the Enchanted Forest unprotected the day you were born. You ended up surviving by pure coincidence, taken home by a farmer and his wife who didn’t really want another mouth to feed but could use a strong set of hands when you grew up. To this day, you don’t know if you’re glad they found you or not. Perhaps it would have been better to fade into that forest as an infant, to let the dark greens and murky shadows take you away. 

Now, however, you don’t have that choice. Whatever glimmer of appreciation the farmers may have had upon seeing you for the first time has quickly faded. They thought they were getting a workhand they wouldn’t have to pay, but instead, they got a witch. 

You are, after all, still your mother’s daughter, even if you don’t know how that’s supposed to shape you. You’ve been careful to keep your magic under control, but it just adds another set of chains tying you down. You don’t know how your mother felt when she looked at you for the first time, but it must have been something like how you feel now, as if she knew then and there that she would never have an ounce of freedom again. 

Tonight, you escape the cluttered, cramped farmhouse and retreat to the very edge of the farm, where the carefully cultivated rows of crops meet the wild, untamed forest. You stare into its depths as if expecting to see someone staring back at you, yet it still comes as quite a shock when you do. 

You blink hard, but when you open your eyes again, the boy is still there. Now, he’s smirking as if pleased that he’s startled you. He glances around, then gestures for you to follow him into the woods. It’s a terrible idea, certainly, but you do it anyway. 

The boy is waiting just a few yards within the limits of the forest, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. In the shadows of the night, his eyes seem just as sharp a green as the grass beneath your feet. 

“You came,” he says almost proudly, “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

You fold your arms across your chest. You may be talking with him, but that doesn’t mean that you have to trust him. 

“I was curious. It’s not every day that you find some strange boy in the woods.”

His smile deepens, although you’re not sure that what you said was a compliment. “I have a question for you. Do you know who I am?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering this. “Seeing as you’ve gone out of your way to ask me, I’m assuming it’s someone important.”

The boy chuckles. “I’d certainly like to think so, yes.”

You raise a brow at his comment. “I don’t know. Who are you?”

The boy leans idly back against the tree. “You’re not even going to try and guess? I have to say, I’m disappointed.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why do you care? You don’t even know me.”

The boy grins, and his teeth flash in the moonlight like blades. “Ah, but I do. Your name is Y/N L/N, and you live here with people who aren’t your true parents. Your real mother is Queen Regina, and you’ve inherited her magic. I can keep going, if you like.”

You back away from him. “Whoever you are, I’d suggest that you leave me alone. I don’t know what you want with me, but you aren’t going to get it.”

The boy rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, obviously. If I wanted you hurt, you’d be dead.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” You ask. “Because it’s not really working.”

He seems proud of that. “I’m not typically one to reassure people. Either you trust me or you don’t, that’s up to you. If you want to, you can leave right now.”

You certainly could. It would be quite easy to turn back around and return to the farmhouse. You’re not even sure that your adoptive parents would notice that you’d left. That, however, is exactly why you stay. 

“So you know who I am, and you have to emphasize the fact that I have magic. Can I guess that means you have magic, too?” You ask.

The boy looks pleased that you’re responding. “You can. Is that your answer?”

You consider this a second longer, then nod. “Yes. You’re a boy who can use magic, someone who likes messing with other people’s heads. Is life a game to you, then, that you can go up to whoever you want and expect them to play along?”

He nods. “Precisely right. If you want a name, you can call me Peter Pan.”

The boy bows as he says it, like his name alone is a title fit for a king. 

“And what do you want with me, Peter Pan?”

Peter straightens up from the tree at last, and starts to walk past you, towards the open fields of the farm. “I suppose I’ll ask you about that tomorrow,” he says. 

You call after his retreating figure. “I’ll make sure to have a better answer, then.”

Peter pauses long enough to turn around and smile at you again. “I hope you do.”

Then he’s gone, no trace of him anywhere even after you hurry over to the spot where he’d just been. It’s as if he’s vanished, practically materialized into thin air. You shake your head slowly, and wonder why you’re grinning. 

True to his word, Peter comes the next day, and the next, and the next. Each time, he asks you some sort of question. The second and third days are about him: what you think he’s doing, where you think he would be going. The next three days’ worth of questions are about you: if you would consider yourself lost, whether or not you’re afraid of your magic, what would you do to get revenge on Regina for abandoning you. You do your best to answer as truthfully as you can, and in return, Peter starts talking more about himself as well. 

On the seventh day, Peter doesn’t bother with the usual routine of engaging in parlor conversation, merely strikes at you with a question the second you meet up. 

“Would you go home with me?” He asks, voice eager. “To Neverland, I mean. Would you go with me?”

Peter’s eyeing you almost hungrily, as if the entire fabric of his being will be torn into pieces if you don’t answer. All the same, it’s a rather difficult thing to consider. You don’t always enjoy your life here, but it’s all you have. These people saved you from certain death as an infant. 

Also, you don’t know anything about Peter’s Neverland other than what he’s told you. He could be lying about every little detail down to the sapphire depths of the oceans lapping at its shores. Are you really going to stake your future on what you know of this boy, the one with the bloodthirsty smile and penchant for driving you mad?

The answer, as it turns out, is yes. Peter looks delighted once you tell him so, and holds out a hand for you to follow him. You take one last look over your shoulder at the farmhouse, still looking gravely out at the surrounding night, then turn back to Peter and accept the offered hand. It is time for your new life to begin. 

Neverland is one of the best things in the world. You forget your doubts the moment you step foot on its shores, too busy taking in every sight of your new home. It’s as if it was meant for you, this life, and you can scarcely even imagine a time before it. 

You find that you fit in remarkably well with the other Lost Boys. You get along swimmingly with them, and you pose enough of a threat with a knife or your fists that they have no choice but to treat you as one of their one. Peter likes that, you can tell.

Admittedly, he didn’t like it quite as much when some of the boys started developing crushes on you. There was a time when Devin was practically shadowing your every footstep in a misguided attempt to get you to notice him. Peter had been simmering with an ill concealed rage for weeks during that experience, and it took a turbulent confrontation between the two of you for him to admit that he was actually jealous of the other Lost Boy because he was secretly harboring feelings for you. 

After that, it was easy. You love Peter, and he loves you. The days stretch into hundreds, then thousands, and you never grow tired of a single minute. All is perfect, all is well, and then it isn’t. 

Peter tries to hide it at first, and when he can’t manage it any longer he tells you the truth. He’s dying slowly, a river running dry, and as he does the last vestiges of magic start to leave the island. There’s nothing either of you can do except search for a cure, and that’s far more difficult than it sounds. 

At last, Peter happens upon something. It’s called the Heart of the Truest Believer, and should infuse the possessor with enough magic to defeat any curse, or, say, stay alive despite the fact that their clock is actively ticking down the seconds they have left to live. Getting to the actual Truest Believer will be hard, but their son, Henry, should do the job.

Henry Mills. That’s the part that makes this infinitely harder, isn’t it? To kidnap Henry, you’re going to have to risk the wrath of Henry’s family coming after him. You can handle a Truest Believer, but Henry’s adoptive mother is Regina, your birth mother. After all this time, you might finally come face to face for the first time since she left you to die. It is both terrifying and thrilling.

However, you’re not about to let your own hesitation about meeting Regina come in between Peter and his only shot at survival. Within a week of finding out the truth, Peter has sent for a couple mercenaries of sorts to go kidnap Henry and bring him to Neverland. After that, you and Peter are going to have to figure out how to convince the boy to give up his heart to Peter, but you’re fairly sure that you can handle that. If there’s one thing that the two of you can do well, it’s persuasion. You both lie with the same gilded tongue.

You get your chance to meet Henry a while later, and the boy quickly grows to like you. You’re sure that he’s a nice kid, but every time he opens his mouth and talks about how fantastic it was to grow up with Regina, you want to cut his heart from his chest yourself. How could he possibly have it all when you grew up with so little?

Peter knows this, and he gives you a chance to act upon your vengeful feelings. By now, Regina and a small traveling party have arrived on Neverland in the hopes of getting Henry back. They won’t manage it of course, not if you and Peter have anything to say about it, but you don’t want them stumbling into trouble while either of you are distracted.

Peter offers you the opportunity to act as a false friend of sorts. You can pretend that you’re a Lost Boy in need of rescue, and keep an eye on Regina’s group while reporting back to Peter all the while. It sounds good to you, and soon enough you traipse through the woods and just happen to stumble by their camp long enough for them to find you.

They’re desperate, you can see that. It truly haunts Regina to be so separated from her child. You don’t think she recognizes you, and you certainly don’t tell her your name, but she keeps regarding you with far more suspicion than the others, even excluding the fact that you’re obviously a Lost Boy. Could she suspect that the two of you are closer than first meets the eye? Maybe, but she doesn’t have any proof except her own rambling thoughts.

Still, if anyone’s being affected by your presence at Regina’s camp, it would have to be you. It’s odd to see her after all of these years, to pretend to guide her through the forests as if you’re on the same side. She abandoned you, and now you’re right there beside her as if she never left. 

The worst part is that after a couple of days, you’re starting to lose your grip on that familiar hatred. Regina is cruel and calculating and utterly without morals as compared to, say, the Charmings, but she’s doing all of it for her child. The child isn’t you, but she’s been starting to turn some of that focus on you as well. 

It all comes to a head about a week after Regina’s party first touched down on Neverland. You and your mother have been cautiously lowering your guards around each other, and tonight, you were pretending to scout out the edge of their campsite when Regina approached you, alone. 

Her voice is quiet, her gaze trained on some cluster of ferns on a nearby bank. “Why are you helping us?”

You shoot a quick glance her way. “Pan’s island is a prison. I want a chance to feel like the entire world isn’t against me.”

It’s the excuse you and Peter agreed on when you were first drawing up this plan, and Regina seems to buy it. It’s what she expects to hear, so of course she’ll believe it. 

“You can come with us, you know. After we get Henry. Storybrooke isn’t exactly a paradise, but after this place, it can’t be that bad.”

This time, your eyes stay on her. “You mean it? You’d let me stay in your town?”

Regina chuckles. “No need to sound so surprised. You help us, we help you. That’s how things work. Besides, not all of us are as evil as we like to think.”

You nod slowly. “Wow. I’ve never really had another place to call home other than here.”

Regina’s brow furrows. “That’s why you came here, isn’t it? You figured any place was better than where you came from.”

You remain silent, figuring she’s said enough to make your point. After a moment, Regina picks up where she left off. 

“Listen, I don’t know what happened to you beforehand, but it’ll be better with us. I swear it. You’re one of us now. Just don’t let Swan hear that I was nice or she’ll never stop making fun of me for it.”

You laugh. “I appreciate it, honestly.”

Regina almost smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, you’re one of us, and we protect our own.”

That’s the part that gets you, in the end. ‘We protect our own.’ Like she had protected you when you were a child and she left you for dead? Is that Regina’s protection, letting you die? You murmur excuses about needing to get back to the Lost Boys’ camp before someone notices you’re gone, and all but vanish into the woods as soon as you can. 

Peter is waiting for you in his quarters, and you’re grateful for the walls protecting you from view. Peter’s face twists with concern when he sees you, and he’s scarcely crossed the room to pull you close before the tears start to come, pouring like a flood and leaving you dazed, your head a dizzy mess. 

Peter stays with you the whole while, hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. In the end, it is the reassuring sound of his heartbeat that makes you calm down. Him, and nothing else. 

At last, you step away, and dash a frustrated hand over your eyes to wipe away the last of the tears. “Let’s give Emma the map,” you say, “I want them to feel like they’ve lost.”

Peter agrees, and the next day, you get to pretend as if everything is normal while watching Emma and Regina struggle to figure out how to solve Peter’s clue. Their fighting is going to tear the party apart, which is exactly what you’d hoped would happen. 

You don’t think you’ve ever acted a better part. You color your expression with nerves, especially after Regina gives up and tries to use her magic on the map. 

“I don’t know, I really think you shouldn’t do that. Pan doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t play his games the right way. Trust me, I know.”

You actually know quite well, but even Regina in all her charity doesn’t want to hear it. “Yes, but this is different. He can’t stand against us, not for long.”

She pushes recklessly ahead through the wilderness of the island, and you wait until nobody can see the look on your face to smile. They have no idea what’s coming for them. Peter Pan always wins, does he not? Regina is about to find that out for herself. 

Indeed, when Regina triumphantly rounds the final bend to see what should be Henry standing with his back to her, she couldn’t be happier. The delight starts to leach from her face, however, when her so-called son starts to speak with Peter’s voice. 

“You know, you really should have listened to Y/N. I don’t like people who break the rules.”

Emma and the rest stare at Peter in horror, but Regina seems stunned the second Peter says your name. You use your magic to appear by Peter’s side in a second, further confirming her suspicions. 

Regina looks as if the ground has been pulled out beneath her feet. “Y/N? You’re alive?”

You smile, although the expression is as cold as frost. “Yes, mother. Although you had nothing to do with that.”

Emma swings around to stare at Regina. “Did she say you were her mother?”

Regina starts to answer, but she’s cut off by the loud whoops of the other Lost Boys arriving on the scene. All of a sudden, fighting breaks out, and you couldn’t be happier to see it. It feels like revenge, your true family having your back against the family that could have been yours if your mother hadn’t given you up. 

Regina tries to use a spell to knock out a large cluster of Lost Boys, but you block it just as easily. She looks stunned that her powers are equal to yours, which makes you laugh. 

“Oh, come now. Your magic is mine. Surely you don’t think you could take me down that easily?”

You raise your arms and a wave of shadow crests around Regina, blocking out all signs of the fight around her. No sound makes it through, nor a stray beam of light. Regina calls out to her friends, but she hears and sees nothing. You can see the terror on her face, how horrified she is that she could be left alone. 

Then Peter’s calling for the Lost Boys to fall back, and you go with them. You lift the spell only once all of your boys are gone, and Regina stumbles out of her daze, face drawn in sickening fear. 

Peter laughs, later at the campsite. “You certainly look pleased with yourself. Having fun ruining your mother’s life?”

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Only a little bit, of course. Let’s get to Henry, I want this done. The longer we wait, the more chances Regina and the rest have at stopping us. I’m not risking you, not if we have a chance to get that heart.”

Peter presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sounds good to me. What do you say we get him tonight?”

What you want to do is solve this now, but it’s Peter’s life counting down, not yours, so whatever plan he wants is good with you. You nod your assent and watch Peter slink off into the forest to go talk to Henry again. You know he wants to convince the boy to give up his heart without a fight, so he’s taking his time about it, but you still can’t fight the fear that something is going to happen before the two of you can save Peter’s life. 

As the night draws to a close, though, the plan seems to be working accordingly. You and Peter take Henry to Skull Rock once the young boy proves himself capable of believing, and Peter starts the spell to prepare for the change of hearts. You watch the entrance of the cavern, eyes flickering between the hourglass, which has scarcely any time left at all, and the mouth of the cave. 

About twenty minutes after your arrival, you hear footsteps and call them out to Peter. “We’ve got company.”

He nods, brow dotted with sweat from concentration. “Keep them at bay for as long as possible.”

You may not be able to calm your own fears, but you can do that. Regina, Emma, and the rest of the party burst into the cavern, but they find themselves unable to progress any further due to the magical barrier you’ve created to impede their movement. 

Regina tries to break through, and the combined force of keeping her back while maintaining the barrier is harder than anything you’ve ever done before. Still, it's saving Peter, and that is all that matters. You could do this forever if it meant saving the boy you love. 

Regina must realize this, because all of a sudden she stops her magical attacks and walks towards you, as much as the barrier allows. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to do this.”

You laugh, voice strained from the effort of maintaining the magical barrier. “Of course I do. If Peter dies, I die with him, and not just because Neverland would cease to exist.”

Regina nods slowly, realizing what that means. “You love him. Alright. I love Henry too, though—”

You cut her off. “What, like you didn’t love me? You left me to die when I was just a baby. Growing up, I wished you succeeded, but being here with Peter makes me want to live every single day. If you’re such a concerned parent, maybe you shouldn’t have abandoned me first.”

Regina’s voice is quiet. “I know. Leaving you behind was one of the greatest mistakes I ever made. I tried to find you the next morning, did you know that? You were gone by then, but I searched for weeks. I wanted you back, Y/N. I know I can’t heal what I did to you, but let me try. Please.”

You shake your head, although you’re feeling decidedly less sure of yourself than when you started. “You’re just saying that to get Henry back. You don’t mean it.”

Regina inches forward. “I do. You can tell that, can’t you? I need Henry, yes, but I need you too. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m just asking you to spare Henry’s life. He hasn’t done anything to you. Please, let him go.”

You risk a glance over your shoulder at Peter, who’s going to take Henry’s heart at any moment. Henry looks absolutely terrified, and it— oh, it reminds you of you, how it had been to grow up knowing that you were utterly alone in the world. You can’t fault Henry for having better luck than you did, and you can’t kill him for it. This would be so much easier if Peter needed a heart from some nameless kid, but it isn’t. 

Across the room, Peter meets your gaze. He knows what you’re thinking, you can tell, but he doesn’t try to stop you. Perhaps he knew all along that this would never work, perhaps he’s been counting down the days until he would well and truly fail. At least now he won’t do it alone. 

You drop the barrier and Emma surges forward, snatching Henry away from Peter, who just backs up. Regina approaches you hesitantly, but you hold up a hand before she can say anything. 

“I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for Henry. You owe me, you know? You owe it to me to treat Henry like he’s the best you’ll ever have. Never make him feel like I did.”

Regina nods slowly, looking almost regretful. “I will.”

You jerk your chin towards the door. “Now go. Let me be alone with Peter.”

Regina nods again, murmuring something that almost sounds like a goodbye under her breath. The rest of the party sweeps from the room, leaving you with Peter and the resounding stillness. 

You run to him, you have never been able to stay away for long. “I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry. I just can’t let Henry die for something he never did.”

Peter’s hands touch your brow, then dip, tracing the curves and contours of your face as if he’s afraid that he’ll never see them again. Maybe he won’t, if you’ve damned him by letting Henry go. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. We can find another way. That’s what we always do.”

It’s true. You reach for every healing spell you know, combining some with Peter to see if the two of you can come up with something, anything, to give him at least a few more hours of blessed life. Nothing works, though, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the hourglass relentlessly ticking down the time you have left. 

Eventually, when the sand has all but disappeared from the top of the hourglass, Peter takes your hands, forcing them to still the never ending stream of magic. 

“This is it, then. Don’t waste your energy on a dead man, huh?”

You shake your head desperately. “There must be something else. Anything.”

Peter’s eyes flash a somber shade of green. “There isn’t always a way to win, love.”

You hate hearing that from him, from Peter Pan of all people. Through sheer desperation, you lean forward and kiss him, so you don’t have to keep seeing that dejected look if anything else. You kiss him and wait for him to die in your arms, but for some reason, he doesn’t. 

Indeed, when you pull away, you realize that Peter’s glowing, or perhaps that’s the light emanating from the hourglass as all of the grains of sand fly back up towards the top. This time, they refuse to fall, but stay there victoriously. 

When you look back at Peter, he’s grinning ear to ear. “True love’s kiss. Why didn’t I ever think of that?”

You laugh incredulously. “It worked. Oh, Peter, it worked.”

You don’t know that you’ve ever felt as lucky as you do right now. A strong contender might be when you arrived on Neverland for the first time, or even when you first met a strange boy in the woods back when you were still living on that farm. The connecting thread, though, the one person who always makes you feel worthwhile, is Peter. Now, you have him forever. You couldn’t be happier. 

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

[teaandfiction-28]

🗄 + Alexis + “No, don’t look at me like that.”

The alternative to @acdassenza​‘s prompt - hope you enjoy!

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

“Yo Sarg, I think she’s finally asleep.”

Hank lifted his gaze from the ever-growing stack of papers on his desk to the doorway of his office at the sound of Kevin’s soft tone, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards at the sight of one of his most trusted officers cradling his six-month old daughter against his chest with a gentleness that belied his hulking frame. 

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and, despite the fact that every desk in the Intelligence bullpen was occupied, the 21st district was surprisingly quiet. His team had spent hours on end sifting through video footage, phone records and financial reports in an effort to track down the sender of the sinister package.

It had been almost a week and still he refused to let either Kate or Alexis out of his sight which naturally meant that the Intelligence Unit were operating in shifts to keep their newest member occupied. While she was generally a laid-back, easy-going baby, the major disruption to her daily routine had made her spectacularly irritable until ‘Uncle Kevin’ had scooped her up, swaddled her in her favourite blanket and paced around the bullpen until she had eventually succumbed to exhaustion. 

“Thanks Kev.” He murmured, placing his pen down and jamming the heels of both hands into his eye sockets in an effort to ease the dull throbbing.

“Hey, you mind if I tag out? I gotta meet a CI in Pilsen in thirty.” 

Rolling away from his desk, Hank pushed to his feet to met Kevin half-way so that he could gently transition the slumbering baby into her father’s arms, both men holding their breath when she stirred slightly before burrowing her face against Hank’s chest and immediately drifting back off to sleep. 

“Take Adam with you. I don’t want any of you ridin’ solo at the minute.”

With a nod and a quiet ‘yes Sarg’, Kevin turned on his heel and strode through the bullpen, tapping Adam on the shoulder as he passed and Hank watched their retreating backs until they disappeared down the steps. 

Adjusting his sleeping daughter so that her head was nestled in the crook of his neck, he slowly lowered himself down onto the black leather sofa and took a moment just to breathe in her sweet baby scent, reassuring himself that she was here in his arms. She was safe. 

A subtle movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned his head towards the doorway where Trudy was leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded across her chest, a wry smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she watched him rub soothing, rhythmic circles up and down the baby’s back. 

“No, don’t look at me like that.” Hank mumbled after a few long moments of silence, the weight of Trudy’s stare burning a hole into the side of his head. His eyes tracked his friend as she moved further into his office only to brace her weight against the edge of his desk, eyeing him cautiously.

"Like what?” 

“Like I’ve...” He tailed off as though the words had stuck like treacle in the back of his throat.

“Go on.” She coaxed, clearly having no intention on making it easy for him. 

“Like I’ve gone soft.” He ground out the last word as though it were particularly offensive but, in truth, he was irritated with how vulnerable the threat had made him feel. The thought of somebody, anybody, getting close enough to harm a hair on his daughter’s head made him feel wild with rage. 

When he eventually met Trudy’s eyes, they were shining with something that looked suspiciously like pride. 

“Hank, I’ve known you for over thirty years and, believe me when I tell ya, this right here...” She lifted an index finger, gesturing towards him and the slumbering baby. “...is as far from soft as you could get.”

Pushing away from the desk, she paused at his elbow, reaching down to place a comforting palm on his shoulder.

“You know, protecting your family doesn’t always mean puttin’ a bullet in whoever wants to hurt them, Hank.” She said quietly. “And needing to keep them close certainly doesn’t make you weak.”

Just as she was about to leave, she hesitated briefly in the doorway, her eyes suddenly alight with mirth.  

“Besides, s’not like anyone would believe me if I told them that babies liked to sleep on the chest of the dreaded, dangerous Hank Voight. It’d be like trying to convince Adam that he’s not God’s gift to women.”

With a parting wink and a squeeze of his shoulder, she left him alone to consider, perhaps for the first time in his adult life, a solution that didn’t involve actual, physical violence. 

[fartoo-sensitive]

our cross to bear

i've been working on this for like?? two weeks??? idk it's been a long time lol but i finally finished it<3 i hope y'all like it^^

word count: 1498

warnings: canon typical violence

character(s): vincent sinclair x gn!reader

deep breaths. in. out. stay quiet.

you had to keep reminding yourself of that. well, not yourself. the girl. your eyes flickered over to her. she was shaking like a leaf, her breath coming in huge gasps. you were sure her sides had to be cramping by now. tears had been steadily falling from her big brown eyes for hours now; not surprising considering the things that’d happened to her and her friends. you whispered softly for her to stay quiet.

the hand that wasn’t holding the paring knife imbedded in your side in place - “never pull anything outta ya if ya get stabbed, y/n,” your father’s voice echoed in your head, his chuckle along with it; a silly memory from watching an old movie together - came up to shove the hair off your forehead. you knew bo hadn’t meant to get you with the knife, but even with as small as it was you weren’t gonna pull it out until you had the supplies to keep yourself from bleeding all over the place.

you weren’t 100% sure where the girl - tessa, you thought her name was - had led you. acting as another victim was hard, but you weren’t too keen on giving yourself up and having her turn on you so soon. you knew how desperate a scared human being could be, and the sinclair brothers - especially vincent - would never forgive you if you got irreparably injured after you’d begged them to let you help out.

a soft groan from your side broke you from your thoughts, and you turned to see the girl standing and looking around carefully. ambrose was quiet. you knew the boys were out looking for you.

after a few seconds the girl touched your shoulder, silently pointing up the road to the house of wax. you looked around, realizing you were in the gated part of the old churchyard. not really a good hiding spot, but you guessed you hadn’t been found yet so she’d done okay so far. you nodded at her, a hidden smile taking over your lips when she turned to carefully make her way out of the yard.

the sign on the door still said closed but that didn’t deter her, not that you expected it to, and she slowly pushed it open, wincing visibly when it creaked. her wild eyes flashed back to you and all you could think to do was shrug helplessly. she finally pushed it open enough to slip through and you went through right after her, shutting the door closed as quietly as you were able behind you.

nighttime fell long ago, and while sometimes bo had the town turned on especially when visitors were around, he’d cut the power sometime before sunset to make it harder for the girl to navigate. he knew you’d be okay; you knew ambrose like the back of your hand at this point.

you followed the girl - sometimes your brain made you want to call her tessa, but you knew you couldn’t do that, not when she was gonna die soon - through the house of wax. she was a jittery little thing, her head whipping back and forth, looking around at all of the figures, scared they were one of the brothers come to get her like they had her friends earlier. eventually she came to sit beneath a window, her back pressed against the wall. she closed her eyes, trying to even out her breathing. you sat down beside her and leaned your head against the wall. you were starting to get sleepy. maybe that was the knife in your side.

a noise from outside the window jolted the both of you, a hand flying up to cover the girls mouth before a whimper could come out, and then a voice sounded.

“where the fuck is she, vincent?”

your heart stopped in your chest for a second, eyes flickering to the girl before going back to the window. you prayed bo wouldn’t say your name. he couldn’t be that dumb, could he? you listened for a moment while vincent gave his reply.

“well you better fuckin’ find her. she’s one girl. how far could she have gone? an’ what if she’s hurt y/n?”

a scuffle beneath the window for a few seconds.

“get your shit together, vincent.” a pause. “i’m sorry.”

a muffled bang, then silence.

your heart was beating a mile a minute. you didn’t wanna look at the girl. she knew now. she had to know; you weren’t helping her, you weren’t another insect caught in the brothers’ web. you were a key player in their game, leading her right to them.

“you tricked me.” her voice was barely more than a whisper, and you hear the tears falling again.

immediately you stood up, shoving yourself back from the wall and away from her. sharp pain from the knife raced through your abdomen.

she stood up on unsteady feet, stalking towards you. “how could you do that?”

“i was just helpin’ the family, sorry.” your voice was shaky, but you shrugged and put a small smile on, flippant.

she glared at you. “you’re all monsters.”

“maybe we are, but that’s our cross to bear.”

the girl roared, grabbing the closest thing she could get her hands on - one of vincent’s smaller sculptures from a side table - and threw it with all her strength. it hit you square in the shoulder, painful, yes, but that wasn’t really what concerned you.

“hey, be careful with those!”

“oh, fuck you!”

and that’s when she lunged at you. you’d never been in a physical fight, not since you first came to ambrose a few years ago and you’d stupidly gone toe-to-toe with bo on your own. you didn’t win that fight and although you were a bit bigger than this girl, you did have a knife still sticking out of you and you had lost some blood.

maybe this whole idea of acting as a victim to help out had been a terrible idea from the get-go. that’s all you could think when the girl wrapped her hands around your throat with surprising strength and rammed your back into the piano. vincent hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, even bo thought it might be a stupid idea, lester wasn’t really up for debating with you on it because he never won those with you, but they saw how excited you were and said fuck it. now you were thinking maybe, maybe, they were right.

“vincent!” it was hard getting anything out with someone choking you so hard but you thought you did a pretty decent job, and hopefully vincent was still close by and would hear you.

in either a stroke of pure genius or stupidity, your hand shot down and yanked the paring knife from your side. the thought went through your head that it didn’t even hurt coming out, but that was probably the adrenaline, then the thought was gone when the girl shoved you harder against the piano, a low whine escaping your throat.

just when you were about to use whatever strength you might have left to stab the knife into whatever surface you get to on the girl, she was ripped off you and thrown back against the wall you’d both been sitting against not 10 minutes ago.

you collapsed to the floor, your legs too weak to hold you up any longer, and watched as vincent stalked towards the girl who was now slumped back under the window. he had a knife in each hand and you turned your head away when he reared back with both of them. the sounds of them impaling the girl went on for awhile before he was finally back in front of you, kneeling.

vincent's hands were covered in blood, fluttering between the weeping wound in your abdomen and the bruises already forming around your neck.

you tried to give him an encouraging smile. "i'm okay, vinny."

he shook his head, damp hair slapping the sides of his mask and the shoulders of his sweater. the anger and worry was evident in his eye.

"just-" you stopped, having moved towards him too quickly and incited a sharp pain up your side, "just a scratch."

he growled low in his throat. <<bo.>>

"it was an accident, vincent, you know that. don't start a fight."

<<fine. tomorrow.>>

you almost laughed. "no, not tomorrow. let's just go to the workshop, okay? get me patched up, i'll be okay." you reached out and took his bloodied hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and placing soft kisses on the knuckles. "i'm okay."

he took a deep breath through his nose. "never..again."

you nodded. "never again. promise."

vincent stood up, carefully pulling you with him and up into his arms. he would get you patched up and take care of you for the night, the girl could wait. maybe he wouldn't even yell at bo tomorrow.

maybe.

[miabrown007]

brutal

(aka a 600 words S4 meltdown fic)

now with follow up hurt/comfort on [AO3]

"Marinette, can I ask you something?"

She looks up from her notes, a small smile on her lips. "Anything, Adrien." 

"Do you ever feel replaceable?" 

She just blinks at him, as if not understanding the question. Maybe she doesn't understand why he is asking her this. They aren't all that close, after all. But he can't ask Chloé, can't ask Kagami, and sure as hell won't ask Nino or Alya, so here he is. Explaining. 

"I have this friend. My best friend, actually. Or I used to think of her as such for quite a long time. But lately, she acts differently. She's ditching all of our meetings, she's keepings secrets, and it's really hur— I'm not a fan," Adrien says, running his thumb over the cold band on his ring finger. Over and over.

Marinette's expression darkens, her lips a single thin line as she searches for the right words. "You know, if this friend of yours doesn't appreciate you — I mean, I don't want to be too quick to judge but secrets are a pretty serious issue. So, if you confront her about it, and she doesn't change anything…" Marinette shrugs. 

She is clearly thinking of Chloé. Adrien won't correct her. 

"You have to set your own boundaries. Sometimes a friendship just doesn't serve you anymore, but that's okay. You don't have to stay friends only because that's how it used to be." 

Adrien smiles at her, his fingers digging into the flesh of his palm under the table. "Thanks, Marinette. I'll keep that in mind."

***

And he does. But the first part of the advice can't escape his mind, because he can't help hoping, that somewhere, deep down, it hurts Ladybug just as well. Can't help hoping that she still cares, that he still matter, that they are still something to be saved. 

But Adrien knows he's too much of an optimist for his own good. He knows he can't let go, so with trembling stomach, he asks. After an akuma attack he — as usual — barely contributed to, because patrols are a special occasion lately, just him and Nino.

"Ladybug, do you… Do you still think secret identities are inevitable?" 

Her head whips up, her eyes searching his in a wild panic. He can see she's calculating how much he knows. So he smiles at her, his most reassuring smile. 

Ladybug takes a sigh of relief. At least she has the decency to look guilty when she says, "now more than ever. I'm sorry, Chaton."

His heart breaks on the concrete in front of the Louvre. Adrien's sure, she can hear it too.

***

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Plagg asks, for once paying attention, just as tired of the cheese as Adrien. 

"Yes." Adrien nods earnestly, swiping the sudden dampness from his face. "Will you stay with me?" 

"No one has ever asked that from me before," Plagg laments, his voice almost touched. 

"Well, there is a first time for everything, right?" Adrien smiles weakly, pushing in the door of his father's office.

***

It's easy. Really. Gabriel is technically ecstatic to fulfill his son's wish, and enroll Adrien in a prestigious boarding school overseas.

It's the most batshit crazy thing but maybe he'll get lucky. Even if luck is not his department.

He doesn't tell Ladybug, though. And he doesn't tell Marinette. 

But they notice. 

They must. 

Because Hawkmoth does, and he rages and goes on a rampage, but Chat Noir doesn't show. Not like the heroes need him to defeat their enemies. 

And then, just as swiftly as he started his akumatizations, Hawkmoth stops. And for once, unbeknown to all parties involved, he and Ladybug are of the same opinion.

Without Chat Noir, what's the point?

[cigarettesmokerkaite]

Losing the v-card

Summary: your 16 and alex is 18 you've been dating for a few months and you decided that tonight you and alex take the next step in your relationship

(Smut)

Word count/1069

❥┈┈┈•˼͝ʹ͜ ˓̇͜∙͡∘ ∘͡∙̇͜˓ ͜ʹ͝˼•┈┈┈❥

I was 16 when I met Alex Turner he was 18

I moved to Sheffield with my mum and dad about a year ago that was when I met Alex we only stayed a few doors down from each other

Me and Alex started dating three months after I moved to Sheffield I became friends with him a few days after I moved

We only kissed and cuddled but we never had sex I was too nervous I knew Alex wasn't a virgin like me but he didn't want to make me do anything I didn't want to he wanted to wait until I was ready

My mum and dad where going to visit my grandparents back in London for a few days

So I invited Alex over since I had the place to myself

The door bell rang I ran downstairs to open the door to Alex

"Hi Alex" " 'Ello luv" Alex replied

I moved to the side to let him in

"So what do yeh wanna so 'en" he asked taking his shoes and jacket off by the door

"Well I was watching a movie in my room" I said looking at him there was something about a bit different but in the best way possible

"What movie?" He asked

"R-rocky horror picture show" I said blushing as we walked upstairs to my room

"Yeher favourite" Alex pointed out making me blush more

We sat in my bed cuddling until the movie ended

"Luv yeher singing Y/N" Alex said smirking

"Oh shut up you can't watch that movie and not sing along to the songs" I said pretending to be offended

"I kno' luv I'm sooreh" he said kissing my lips

We started making out the kissing was passionate and did things in my stomach like butterflies you would call it but it felt like a dozen birds trying to get out a cage

I moaned in the kiss and got on top on him straddling him

"Y/N what yeh doin" Alex asked raising an eyebrow at me since I didn't do this before

"I'm ready al" I said kissing his neck

"Are yeh sure I don't want yeh doin anyfin yeh don't want to" Alex said in a shaky voice

"But I want to Alex I want you" I said I started to remove his brown polo shirt and I removed my top to reveal my bra

it was Alex first time seeing my body I immediately got nervous again

"Yeher absolutely gorgeous Y/N" he said running his hand up and down the sides of my body

He flipped us over so he was ontop his fingers on the waistband of my leggings

"Are yeh sure luv" he asked again

"Yes Alex I'm 100 percent sure" I said look into his eyes I could see the wildness and lust in them

He pulled my trousers down and threw them on the floor

He kissed my thighs sucking and slightly biting definitely leaving marks

He then removed my underwear and bra leaving me completely exposed feeling a bit self conscious about myself

He then removed his trousers and boxers

He crawled on top of me "are yeh sure now" he asked again "yes" I said back  he then started toying with my clit he didn't really need to I was already wet for him

I whimpered at the feeling

"Yeh ready sweetheart" he said

"Wait" I said he looked at me worryingly

"Whats wrong" he said panicking

I sat up a bit and reached into my draw beside my bed and pulled out a condom "you need this" I said blushing

"Where did yeh get tha' from" he asked

"I stole it from my mums drawer"I said

"Safe finking" he chuckled opening with wrapper and placing it on his hard member

"Right this will hur' a bit luv" he assured me

I nodded he then slid into my entrance

I winced at the pain he paused "dya want mEh to stop" he said worrying he hurt me

"No no keep going" I said

He slid further into me he kept sliding into me a little bit further every couple of seconds for me to get used to him

Once he fully inside me he stayed still for a few minutes until I told him to move

He slowly moved in and out of me

"Fook Y/N your so fookin tight" Alex groaned while I moaned

"Fuck Alex faster please" I said bucking my hips towards him more

"Yeh sure" he asked

"Oh god yes" he started to pick up the pace

Our breathing become more heavier and our moans filled the room with the sound of our skin hitting off each other

I dug my nails on Alex back whilst he dug his head on my shoulder

"Fuck Alex I'm gunna cum" I cried feeling the not from in my stomach

"MEh too luv" he said he then started to rub my clit with his hand again causing me to moan loudly

"Oh fuck" I said

My hand where running through his hair tugging at it causing him to groan in satisfaction

"Cum luv" Alex said thrusting harder into me

I felt my walls tightened around Alex

And a wave of pleasure over me I moaned Alex's name loudly as Alex came a few seconds after me he was riding out our highs

"I love you Alex"

"I luv yeh too Y/N" he said pulling out of me I whimper at the feeling Alex took the condom off and tossed it in the big he got his boxers back on and handed me my underwear and his polo shirt to wear

He climbed back on the bed and I cuddled into him with my head on his chest

" what yeh wanna watch" he asked me pecking my head

"Grease" I said smirking

"Not another fooking musical" he said chuckling

"It's other one of my favourites and you like that one" I said I knew he secretly likes that movie

We stayed like that for the rest of the night cuddled up with movies and sweets

Sharing a few kisses and telling each other things we love about each other and what we Love in general

Alex was really the best boyfriend a girl could ask for

And for him to be my first was a even better thing to have

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

"Beached" (Giant merman Krogan and marine biologist Viggo)

A/N: Welp hello greetings i am alive lol I also may just turn this into a multi chapter on ao3

Characters: Viggo, Krogan

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: N/A

Summary: Krogan gets beached and severely injured after a storm and is taken in by a marine biology campus, where Viggo Grimborn is his handler.

Krogan's ears pinned back. Slowly, he shifted awake to cuts and scrapes on his flesh. Rocks had battered him, in the bit of shallow water he was in, however, it was only smooth silt that stuck him down because of his weight.

He drug his nails into the silt, as he spun, trying to thrash his tail enough to get himself moving. It only splashed water on his back and sides from his partially submerged tail.

Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his arms, and then he blinked. His dark eyes shone with a deep fury, one that radiated with pain and anger. Foolish. It was quite foolish to go out during a tropical storm.

Krogan snorted, looking up, towards a cliff that overhung the beach. It soared hundreds of feet above his head, sheer and dangerous, however for his 27-foot long self, it would be even harder to scale if he ever wanted to try, as his fingers wouldn't have as many handholds to grasp onto than if he was smaller.

He gritted his teeth, and shook out his hair, flaring his fins out, as he settled back into the silt underneath himself. It was damp, and comfortable enough. He couldn't do anything with himself anyways, not until the tide came back in, anyways.

He snorted, and closed his eyes, a wary sort of look in them. He stared for a moment, at the darkness under his lids, until it all washed away from him.

_____________

While Viggo had seen some... interesting sea creatures in the past, he had never quite seen anything like this beauty. The creature was curled haphazardly in the bottom of one of the deeper pools at the aquarium he worked at.

Never would he plan on actually showing the being to guests, no that was against international magical creatures laws, as mers and sirens were and have been shown to be just as intelligent as humans themselves, but because of their tendency to not do well among their land-faring brethren in large numbers due to disease.

Viggo sighed deeply, watching the large mer- a male, probably in his mid to late twenties, judging by his teeth, because he hadn't yet grown iin his rear teeth, which would replace the front ones in the case that the mer ever lost any of those.

The creature shifted, long ear fins twitching slightly, as his long, eel-like tail curled and coiled along the smooth bottom of the pool. Twenty-Seven feet long. He was one of the largest specimens Viggo had seen to date, and it was unfortunate that he was going to be unable to physically be re-released back into the wild, due to the massive gouges in his tail, that would cause permanent damage to both the stability of his fins, as well as nerve damage, which would make the mer susceptible to poaching for his scales, or for harvesting his tears, which, while valuable, were most of the time, unethically sourced.

Viggo knew they could heal and cure most ailments, however the way they were harvested- through torture- was sickening.

The mer mumbled something underneath his breath, as he slowly opened his eyes, and blinked at Viggo. He had dark, brown eyes that were large, almost puppy-like in innocence, however this mer was covered in scars. Most likely from other merfolk, or from boats, or from even being tangled in fishing line.

Viggo slowly leaned over the edge of the pool, reaching a hand down into the water.

"If the water is too cold, you can let me know." He said simply, and the mer slowly lifted his dorsal fin, a slight expression of panic on his features.

Viggo sighed, shifting the strap on his wetsuit slightly.

"It is alright." He said, lifting his hands for emphasis, before he gestured around himself. "This place is a safe haven for those who have been injured. We do not hurt the creatures in our care here."

The mer slowly lifted himself in the water, until his dark-haired head was poking from it. Thick, black curls swirled around his face in long, puffy strands.

His skin was olive in complexion, dark, elegant, with a light smattering of freckles across his cheeks, and on his shoulders.

"You are not like the other place?" The mer questioned. His voice was deep and silky smooth, however it was tinged with nervousness. He'd had bad interactions with humans in the past, Viggo surmised.

He nodded.

"You... will probably need to stay here." Viggo said, looking to the side. "The damage to your tail is too great, and we were lucky to be able to fix it before you... bled out." He blinked his eyes slowly, gauging the reaction of the large mer, who slowly moved up, and placed his large hands on the side of the pool, next to Viggo. His gills still had a few fishing hooks stuck in them, so when the mer leaned down to inspect him, Viggo reached up, and quickly pulled the hooks from the delicate flesh.

The Mer hissed, however he shook off, drops of blood beginning to drip from his neck.

"Easy. Had to pull something out of you there." Viggo said simply, as he strode back over to the table, and set the hooks down on it.

He could feel the mer watching him carefully, as he then turned back around.

"I have been formally assigned as your caretaker for... however long you need to be here, so I would like to formally introduce myself." He smiled.

"I am Doctor Viggo Grimborn, however I would prefer if you simply referred to me as Viggo." He tilted his head. "What would your name be?" He then asked.

The mer blinked at him quietly.

"Krogan." The mer watched Viggo for a moment longer, and then he slipped back off into the water. His long tail coiled around the outside of the tank for a moment longer, and then, it was gone.

Viggo sighed softly. There was always more to that, he supposed. He wasn't scared of the mer, but eventually, he'd need to get him some food, which... they didn't exactly have much on hand at the moment.

He slowly walked out of the more private room, and into an office space, hopefully to talk to someone about ordering different things for Krogan.

[josiebelladonna]

literally stumbled upon a blog just now, one that i never interacted with once in my life, and saw they had blocked me.

the reason why i’m making a big post about this is because... holy shit. this one is nuts. like, some of the people on here, i get it completely, i get why you don’t me to interact with you. but the more i think about this, the more i feel tumblr going this way in the future. like, this is legit terrifying when i think about it.

now, understand, after the block party of last summer, at this point, no skin off my nose—does seem a little strange that i have never seen you in my life, let’s see your pinned post:

um… 🤭

i’m sorry, i have to laugh at this. it’s so over-the-top that it actually got a laugh out of me. why are you here if you don’t want people to follow you? this isn’t instagram or twitter where you can put your account on private and refuse who follows and who doesn’t. i mean, i do see the logic somewhat—instagram will shadowban you when you make art with eroticism or violence and twitter is virtually impossible to use now, but still. sort out your shit before you come here.

okay, that first part makes complete sense. i post risqué stuff from time to time and i want everyone to use discretion as a result because i’m a wild card—after the shit with daveigh/xxgreendruidessxx i am so wary of ageless blogs. that second part, though. i’m not into that stuff myself (i think it’s gross, tbh) but saying it’s not “true” bdsm or that it can’t be is a little overblown, don’t you think? (never met anyone who wanted to gatekeep bdsm of all things, too, like damn)

”usually”, meaning there are exceptions and they can be taught how to dominate properly, you just are refusing to do the work for whatever reason. next question.

excuse you, it is just a word, like in the phrase “come to mama, baby”—emphasis on “come” and i like to call him baby because he’s precious to me and he gives me butterflies.  something tells me you read fifty shades of gray and took it way too literally.

hey, i have hang-ups with fandom myself but i’m a fan of a lot of stuff. this blog is all me. what’s wrong with that? that’s kind of sad, actually, not being a fan of stuff. bring in the gatekeeping and i feel you must not have a sense of wonder. like, your private life must not contain anything childlike or pure (notice i said “childlike” and not “childish”). that’s really sad, such that i kind of feel bad i’m doing this. like, hehehehe, see some tumblr bitch make fun of someone who doesn’t like stuff hur hur.

that being said…

jesus fucking christ, are you serious? i h8 the utter circle jerk of posts about each other’s mutuals because they’re obnoxious noise at this point but i’m always flattered when that happens. like, whoa, dude, i woke up to a shitload of notes on my posts, thank you, person! (bonus if it’s my art.)

hey, i do, too, but you don’t see me bitching about people going through and reblogging a bunch of things. the fact you outright declare you post memes (and not art) tells me everything i need to know, too. *twirls paintbrush*

so, according to you, kinks outside of bdsm are invalid. you think people who are into porn, either out of curiosity or genuine enjoyment, are brain dead. you think people who like erotica are brain dead. get out of your sight? how bout i fart in your general direction while i leave? make you smell me because i have a delicate stomach and shaming people for their kinks is not okay.

forget a private life being sterile: your private life is more poisonous than the basement at chernobyl.

THEN WHAT THE HELL AM I LOOKING AT, LADY

and you’re one to talk given you came here in the first place, and you use the colored text, an html modification. something tells me that you do understand it.

and to really revel in the insanity:

yeah, i bet you would also tell people they’re fat and ugly so they lose weight. also “20% effective”? i like how she—and i checked, it’s a “she”—forbids people who are into adult diapers and yet she probably hasn’t had hers changed since she first got off the potty. love the use of the word “perceived”, too—why not just say “seen”? and again, if you’re so hell-bent on controlling your own image, why are you here? you can’t control how someone sees you. that’s just life: people will misunderstand you no matter what happens. yet another person so consumed with appearing mature and sexy that she winds up being immature.

i’ve known a fair number of people who were into “tightly knit” groups and they were just like this, too. there was nothing you could do to convince them otherwise, either. they’re misers, caught up in their own echo chamber to the point they no longer think very broadly. i worry, that with the aforementioned circle jerk of posts directed at each other’s mutuals, this will spread to the rest of tumblr. this place will become like this woman here: obsessed with each other’s mutuals until they start telling newbies to gtfo.

moreover, there’s this trend i’ve seen with blogs that have blocked me is that they’re run by very miserable people. there is nothing about them that strikes me as “oh, man, why did you block me? you’re awesome, i wish i could do something to fix things.” i think there was one where i actually thought that (and really, the only reason why it was all so upsetting for me was because it felt as if every time i turned around it was happening. i never saw explanations or anything like that, just angrily worded vague posts. it was upsetting because of the frequency and no one would give me a straight answer).