#like all the genders in the world and you happened to just fall perfectly into those preassigned ones????

[vulpinesaint]

gender is so funny. y'all really identify yourself with one thing or the other and actually feel connection to those two constructs? that's fucking crazy

[pipwritesoccasionally]

midnight emotions (two little lines pt. 2)

in which your stepson has a bad dream and you feel guilty.

this one has less to do with your pregnancy but it is still relevant!

toji x reader (same stuff from last time applies, technically AFAB because of pregnancy but it's also a world with sorcery so I am not here to stop AMAB people. kept it pretty gender neutral, but let me know if it doesn't seem like it.)

wc: 850

pt. 1 pt.3

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

the darkness floods your eyes as you blink awake for the second time that night. body aching, you roll over, feet fluffing the carpet of you and toji’s bedroom. your arms reach up, exposing your growing stomach to the cold air. 

as you stand, the bed creaks, and you hear your husband groan. 

“doll?” his voice is low from sleep, and you place your hand on his arm. 

“i’m good. i just have to pee.” 

“again? you went two hours ago,” you’d never think that toji could be so whiny, but it sure was a very cute surprise. 

“babe, a whole human is growing next to my bladder. i’m going to be peeing all the time for the next few months,” you chuckle, and you hear him roll over on the bed. 

“fine. see you soon.” 

with that, you begin your walk to the bathroom, able to navigate the dark hallways perfectly after following this routine for weeks. after doing your business, you walk back down the hall, but this time you find that it’s much easier. 

in fact, there’s a light on in one of the bedrooms, which you quickly discern to be megumi’s. you knock, hearing a little “come in” on the other side. 

“megumi? what are you doing up?” you whisper, seeing him sitting up in bed. he furiously rubs his hands with his face, and the sight brings tears to your eyes. 

“i…had a bad dream.” he says, his little voice full of sadness. you move to kneel next to his bed, hoping to reassure him. 

“what happened? you can talk to me about it, if you want. or i can get your dad if you’d prefer.” he shakes his head, but still seems to hesitate. 

“dad’s not going to…leave us, will he?” worry strikes through you. 

“never. what would make you think that?”

“i don’t know, i guess i just wish we could see him more. he’s always pretty busy and only comes home for dinner.” another tear falls down his little face, and you can feel one mirror on your own. curse your hormones. 

“he’s busy, yes, but it’s because he’s trying to provide for you as best as he can. he just wants you to be happy,” megumi nods, but you can see that there’s still something on his mind. 

“it’s just that…when the baby comes, will he still have time for us?” your heart brakes at his statement, guilt shattering you. 

“of course he will. i promise you that he will always have time for you. he can be gruff, but he loves you.” 

“pinky promise?” he holds his little pinky out, and you immediately hook your much larger one around it. 

“pinky promise. now go back to bed. if you’re tired in the morning, let me know and i’ll call you out of school.” he nods, and you walk to the door, turning his light off. 

“sleep tight kiddo.” the door closes with a soft click!, and you immediately head back to your shared bedroom. your face feels wet, and you realize belatedly that you’d been crying. 

the bed is comforting, but you feel your breaths come out shakily. 

“doll? what’s wrong?” you jump, not realizing your husband’s still awake, and scoot in closer. 

“megumi’s worried that you won’t have time for him once the baby comes, and i feel so guilty. i didn’t even think about how this would affect them.” you’re hiccuping now, and his large hand comes to rest on your back. 

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i should be here more for them.” he whispers, and you shake your head. 

“no, you’re just doing what you can to help us.” he sighs, and you place your head on his chest. 

“yeah, but maybe it’s not enough. i’ll try to cut back on how many jobs i take weekly so i can be here more. we make more than enough money between the two of us anyways.” 

you hum, remembering exactly why you fell in love with him all those years ago. he isn’t exactly the most open person, but he does love his kids in his own way. 

“you need to stop being so cute. this isn’t good for my blood pressure,” he snorts, squeezing you lightly. 

“cute, huh? never thought someone would call me cute,” you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around his body. 

“why wouldn’t they? you just ooze cuteness, from your thick biceps and rippling abs-” 

“i’m starting to think you might be in love with me.” you can just hear the grin in his voice, and you move to roll away before one of his strong arms stops you. 

“ah-ah,” he tuts, “need my doll next to me so i can protect her.” 

“you sure you’re not the one in love with me?” his chest is firm as you run your fingers across it. 

“you wish,” he presses a kiss against your temple, and your body heats up. you huff, feigning annoyance, and his hand comes to cup your face. 

“fine. i might be in love with you. just a little bit."

[yunirgo]

someone’s someone - steve harrington x reader

summary: steve wishes his heart belonged to someone who will truly and devotedly love him, and so do you.

tags: sfw, reader is gender neutral; it’s implied they’re a virgin and inexperienced, allusions of steve not wanting to live anymore, bit of angst but mostly fluff. sorry for any mistakes or incoherence, english isn’t my first language!

wc: 728

Steve still remembers his first heartbreak as if it was yesterday. He can perfectly remember how his chest felt so tight and how much his heart ached to the point he swore he’d die. He gets sick to his stomach just thinking back at the hours he spent laying on his bed wondering what he did wrong in his life to not receive love from the people he held closest to his heart, wondering if it would be better to stop being the loving boy he was and just turn into a new person who didn’t believe in love because it's not real. 

The feelings of hopelessness and unworthiness, the desire of not seeing the light of day anymore… He wouldn’t wish it upon his worst enemy, or the cruelest person in the world; not even his parents. 

And though the months go by and he feels he’s healed from the heartbreak, there is still a tiny crack in his heart that gives way to despair and misery.  

Then, the unexpected happens: he meets you. 

You, the sweetest and kindest soul he has ever met. You, the classic hopeless romantic who has never even held hands romantically with anyone in their life. You, who thinks will never experience love because everyone your age is either sleeping around or eloping and having kids. You, who just like him, wonders what’s wrong with yourself that no one seems you worthy of love. 

He falls suddenly hard for you, of course, he does. He spends every second he can with you just to hear you laugh at his lame jokes, hold doors open for you, and share secret touches with you when all of his friends are around. He especially loves it when you absentmindedly take his hand on yours and play with his fingers while talking to him or any of his friends, and when you look up at him with that glimmer in your eyes you seem to have only when you’re with him.

It gets to a point where Steve has no other choice but to open his heart up to you, and you do the same with yours. You share your deepest darkest secrets and concerns and build this special and intimate friendship with him, wishing deep down it was more than that.  

“I feel unlovable sometimes,” you told him while stargazing.

 He’d called you over to his house for purely selfish reasons, because he couldn’t stand being apart from you even if you’d had an 8 hour shift together at Family Video earlier that day. 

His heart skipped a beat when you turned your face to look at him, a small, sad smile grazing your face. 

“I just want to be someone’s someone, you know? I want to be someone’s everything,” a deep sigh escaped your lips. “I wonder if I’m meant for someone. What do you think?,” you asked. The boy just stared at you.

 How could he comfort you when he knew that feeling all too well and without giving himself away? 

“I think…” he finally spoke after a few seconds, his hand searching for yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed them gently before speaking again. “I think we’re all meant for someone. I know one day we’ll meet someone we can’t live without.”

“I hope so.”

“I hope so too,”  You knew he was trying to make both of you feel better, but the gentle whisper of his voice made your heart ache uncontrollably. 

Steve Harrington was the person you wanted to own your heart. He’s the one you wanted to dance under the rain, go on silly dates, and share secrets and gossip like two old ladies with. He’s the one you wanted to have all your firsts with. But most importantly, you wanted to mend his broken heart and remind him how deserving of love he is for the rest of his life. 

So, you decided right there and then that you would show him how much you wanted him to be your someone in exchange for you being his someone.

Funny enough, Steve was just thinking the same thing. 

And four years later, after both your plans were taken into action, the two of you can say with certainty they were successful as you vow your lives to each other with your shared loved ones as witnesses.

-

an: thank you for reading!! i hope you guys like this bcs it was very scary to post😭 i will say i might have started a mini series inspired by the “all bout luv” album by monsta x around january this year because it’s one of my favorites ever so you can imagine how long these ideas have been brewing in my mind for💀 so idk, lmk if you’d like to read a bit more of what goes inside my head lolol. anyway :p that’s all, thank you sm again for reading<3

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

��She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[bones4thecats]

Hi can I get a seperate scenario request where Cooler, Cell, and Whis have to help Fem reader with their sprained ankle, because they fell down the stairwell on accident. And F! reader just kinda looking around not knowing if she'd just broken a bone or not. (Note: Based on irl experiences, I just had something like this the 2nd time 😭)

Hope you have a good night by the way 💜

When Their Fem/GN! S/O Sprains Ankle

Characters: Cooler, Cell, and Whis Requester: @silkyshulks A/N: Holy crap, you sprained your ankle twice? That must be tough. I swear that I stub my toe or hit my head everyday, pretty sure I'm one more table-to-forehead thump away from brain damage, lmao. Anyways, hope you get healed up from your sprain and enjoy this! By the way, the Reader has no gender mentions in this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Spraining your ankle, maybe? ⚠️

Disclaimer: I have five requests left, let's hope I can get them done!

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cooler ════════════════════════════════╝

🧊 You looked at Cooler and smiled. It wasn't a smile full of love, no this was one that you put up to make the other members of the Force feel freaked out

🧊 It was when you started going down the stars that you slipped and fell, causing you to hurt your ankle, but, as you were used to pain much worse than this, you looked around and up at Cooler, whom was panicking, wondering if you had broken anything

🧊 When he brought you to the ship's doctor, he was beyond angry that you had sprained the area between your foot and calf. He wasn't angry at you, he was angry at himself for allowing this to happen

🧊 The doctor handed you a medical note of everything you needed to do for the injury to heal; mainly just some rest, an ice-pack being placed on it from time-to-time, giving it a wrap of sorts to keep it from getting worse from moving, and getting it raised above your heart's level while resting

🧊 Cooler sighed as you shifted in your bed, not being used to having your ankle raised so highly. He grabbed a nearby ice-pack and placed it on your ankle, causing you to suck in a deep breath quickly before scoffing and looking away from your lover

"You don't have to be ashamed. Injuries happen to the best of us."

"Coming from the guy who didn't sprain their ankle in front of their lover and multiple members of the Frieza Force then having to keep it up despite having dealt with worse injuries than this."

"Are you done with your little tangent?"

🧊 He tries to stay around you as much as possible to make sure your injury would heal as quick and perfectly as possible. While he cannot always be there, due to some issues within the Force, he makes up for it all by sitting beside you with his head on your chest for you to slide your hands on while trying to cure your boredom

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cell ═════════════════════════════════╝

🔬 This world that you both lived in was utter chaos. So getting injuries wasn't something to out of the ordinary for anyone, but for you? It was completely new

🔬 Cell always made sure that you stayed safe, keeping you from falling and injuring yourself multiple times. Hell, one time he was fighting someone and dashed to keep you safe from a boulder crushing you!

🔬 This time, he hadn't noticed you got injured because he wasn't there

🔬 Cell had gone out to deal with some humans and came back to find you wrapping your ankle and putting some ice on it, flinching and trying to keep yourself calm despite the obvious pain from the injury

🔬 You were shocked to see Cell kneel in front of you with a darkening expression, and you knew what he was going to ask you

"Who did this to you?"

"Nobody, Dear. I just fell down the stairs on accident and ended up spraining my ankle. It should be healed in about a week at most."

"Are you sure nobody harmed you?"

"Yes, Cell. I'm sure."

🔬 After that, he stayed by your side 24/7. You never suspected that the Bio-Android could be so clingy before this, but here you were, having him on his hands and knees for you

🔬 He always replaces your ice-pack, making sure there were always two. One being frozen while the other you could use so you didn't have to wait on some compression being added to your injury

🔬 Cell also may or may not have almost destroyed your stairs after the incident...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Whis ═════════════════════════════════╝

😇 Whis values your health above all else. He knows that you're more susceptible to getting sick than him, so he always kept up-to-date with your symptoms, making sure you couldn't get to ill

😇 But this was an injury that he did not expect to happen

😇 Beerus and Whis had finally gotten to go to Earth after destroying a few planets about 7 galaxies away, and Whis was happy to get to finally see you again after nearly four weeks worth of destruction and traveling with Universe 7's God of Destruction

😇 He made his way to you door was confused why you didn't come right to the door when he gave the special knock you both made to let each other know it was you. So, after three tries, he opened the door was began looking around for you

"Y/N? Where are you?"

"I'm-uh, I'm over here, Whis."

"Oh my."

😇 You sat on the bottom stair of your home, your face had some light scuffing on it while your ankle's slight movements caused you to shiver and groan in pain under your breath

😇 Whis kneeled in front of you and laid his staff nearby your head, just within your grasp. He then picked up your leg lightly, draping the back of your knee over his thigh as he rolled up your pant leg to see your ankle

😇 He saw how your skin darkened at the marking around your ankle. It looked much like a bruise, but he had treated enough injuries dealt by Beerus and Goku to know that this was a sprain and not just a horribly-placed bruise

"Don't worry, love. I can get this fixed up in a mere second!"

😇 Motioning for his staff, you reached to your side and handed him it, to which he thanked you and laid your ankle back down on the ground, making sure your leg was laying straight and not bent from your knee

😇 He then allowed his staff to glow before he tapped it right above your injury, which caused it to slightly ache in pain before it went away. He had healed it in a mere couple seconds!

😇 Whis reached out for you, to which you grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled yourself back onto your feet. While your ankle did slightly pound from the pain, it wasn't as bad as before

"While it may look healed, you may want to put some ice on it and wrap it up if the pain gets worse, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks, Whis."

"No problem, after all, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let my S/O just writhe around in pain?"

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐮𝐡𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP/ISFP

Gryffindor

Chaotic Good

Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You know when you meet someone, and you don't have to force your personality to fit into some kind of shape?

・That's what happened with you and Ruhn

・Ever since you met, there was a spark. You were both curious about each other.

・You were drawn into the way he looked. Not many fae tattooed themselves from nearly head to toe, or had so many piercings

・It made your heart beat faster and faster

・You knew you were attracted to him

・And he made you laugh within minutes

・But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction

・So, the one thing that has stayed throughout your relationship is the goddamn bickering. Which really is just another form of banter.

・This has caused a lot of angst between the two of you.

・But you both knew it was pure play. Flirting. Humour. Banter.

・Everything changed when you had a panic attack in front of him. You were so embarrassed. But the way he held you, cupping your face, moving your hair behind your ears, wiping away the tears.

・His purple eyes bore into your own and you felt instantly calmer.

・From that day on you thanked The Maker. Because staring into his eyes - something clicked. Like a piece was perfectly placed; one you never knew you were missing.

・Making you blush is one of his favourite hobbies. Seeing you duck your head, cover your face or roll your eyes makes his day.

・Very protective; is able to stop himself from taking a swing at the asshole. He's more of a rip him to shreds verbally and then wrap an arm around your shoulder and walk away.

・But don't think he won't get physical over you. Because Ruhn definitely will.

・Would rather take your last name when you get married - his holds too many bad memories

・He knows his smirk makes you weak in the knees but when you brush over his bare skin, he nearly gets on his own knees to worship you

・Would walk to the ends of the earth to find you. There's nothing Ruhn would not do for you. Kill, maim, avenge, even die for you.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔��𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Ruhn) x The Top (You)

Overly arrogant, flirty (Ruhn) x Pretends To Be Unfazed, But Is Dying On The Inside (You)

“Shut Up” x “Make Me”

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Fire In The Water by Feist

Blood Moon by John Lunn & Eivor

The Lure by The Weeknd

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

・Every time with him is hot and heavy; it's hard to breathe when you're both in the mood. It's as if the world doesn't exist and all you can do is be in one another's arms

・You're both as dominant as each other, but when you tease him, gods help you. He'll have you bent over any flat surface, taking you from behind.

・Definitely an ass slapper.

・Growls in your ear both in the bedroom and in public

・Something turns primal in him whenever he's with you. Sometimes it feels like he's a hairs breath away from completely ravishing you

・Ruhn is definitely one to keep a naughty polaroid of you

・At times you think you're both insatiable; no matter how many times either of you cum, nothing is good enough.

・As Mates it's easy to explain. Your souls were made for one another, and so is your biology. Therefore, you both have high fucking sex drives.

・You're obsessed with Ruhn's hands and he knows it. Large, veiny and usually with a few rings. He rests his hand on your thigh, and will slowly move it closer and closer to your core - no matter who is around

・His cock is 8 inches when hard, veined, 3cm in girth. Circumcised; when he's horny the tip is a dark weepy red and when after orgasm it's slightly darker.

・As much as he can be serious and passionate, Ruhn also loves when you two can be silly while having sex. Talking about your day, or laughing when you two almost fall off the bed.

・The first time you had sex, Ruhn didn't last as long as he usually does. He was a whiny, whimpering mess, head in the crook of your neck, pumping in and out of you relentlessly.

・It was like fucking for the first time.

・Nothing compared to being with the person you were supposed to be with.

・Ruhn couldn't stop kissing you, and not just your lips. His favourite part was behind your ear. Trailing hot breathy kisses down to your neck.

・He apologised, but it didn't mean he was done. It just meant there was more natural lube for you.

[osleeplessflowero]

Sooo I've gotten really into Epic: The Musical recently and the song "Suffering" gave me the idea for this! I've been missing Mer/Siren!Nightmare..so let's give him some content! ;)

Gender Neutral Reader

Reader is pretty much anyone you want them to be as long as they can stand/sit on a boat

No this is not connected to the Mer!Nightmare oneshot I wrote, it's a different plotline focused on them being more like Sirens.. buuut if you wanna check it out.. Click Me!

Immune

Oh, does Nightmare hate you.

Ever since you befriended his brother, he's rambled on and on about you nonstop. He's sick of it! And the way you try to act all buddy buddy with him too..oh, he despises that. He definitely does not think fondly of you. Not in the slightest. And so he's decided to get rid of you. So he doesn't have to feel so confused.

Dream had left early in the morning, muttering something about meeting up with some old friends next to a waterfall. Nightmare waved him off, grinning with malice once he'd vanished. Swimming beneath the darker parts of the sea water, he began making his way to the destination he'd visited countless times: the location of your boat.

After mistakenly getting caught in one of your nets, Dream had ended up befriending you as a way for his life to be spared. And in turn the two of you grew quite close, the worry of hunting one another having long since faded. Nightmare had been dragged along with him on more than one occasion, begrudgingly making conversation with you as you stood on the deck of your boat with that charming smile.

And here you were again, standing on the edge and leaning your arms along the railing, mere inches away from falling into the water to a quick demise. You inhale the ocean air with a smile, relaxing without a care in the world. Nightmare peeks his skull out of the water momentarily, grinning madly when he spots you before quickly moving back down so he isn't spotted. Using his magic a little, he takes the form of his brother. You're more trusting when it comes to him..perfect for his plan.

He pops his skull out of the water, smiling brightly just as his brother always does when he sees you. You look over and wave, turning more to face him directly.

"Dream, hey! Good to see you!" You smile, blissfully unaware of his true identity as you slide to sit on the other side of the railing to kick your legs back and forth. Nightmare's eyesockets narrow briefly as he pushes himself up onto a rock, 'Dream's yellow scales glowing brightly once the sun makes contact with his body. Though not as bright as usual..

"Hi there!" He mimics his brother's voice perfectly, having practiced for the occasion. "How are you today, friend?" He rests his arms on top of the rock, Dream's tail swishing back and forth in the water in place of Nightmare's usual tentacles.

You raise a brow slightly, but your smile doesn't falter as you rest your arms in your lap.

"Good, I suppose. Had to run from some sharks earlier so that sucked, I like the skeleton sharks a bit more. Just get 'em to play cards with you and they'll let you pass." You shrug, taking a card deck out of a satchel and waving it around before you finish your sentence, putting it away again. "What about you, Dream? Anything exciting this morning?" You raise your hands, resting your chin between them.

He rests his cheek on one of his hands, pretending to think and letting out a hum. He taps his fingers against the rock for a moment in a rhythmic pattern.

"Hmm, well..I can't say anything too interesting happened..not until I ran into you, of course!" He smiles cheerfully, watching as you let out a chuckle or two.

"Really? That's strange..usually you have lots to talk about during the morning. Lazy day today?" You kick your legs, looking down at him curiously. Observing.

"Yeah..just a bit slow!" He lowers his arms. "But now that I've found you I'm sure it'll get so much more fun! ..Say..why don't you come down here and swim with me for a bit? Just the two of us?" His spell begins seeping into his impersonation of Dream's voice, his eyes faintly glowing with magic. He holds out his arms out towards you, open and inviting.

You pause for a moment, hearing a slight difference in his tone. Familiarity overtakes you, and you narrow your eyes at him. ..Why is he using his magic? You'd happily go, and he already knows that it doesn't..

You glance over his demeanor again. Well mannered body language, slightly narrowed eyesockets in contrast to his usually wide open ones. Slightly dimmer than usual..

Oh, so that's what this is.

You smile, deciding you'll mess around a little. "Oh, I dunno Dream..I'm awfully scared of the water! What if another shark comes by?" You shrug, smiling apologetically. Nightmare's browbone twitches, but he keeps up his act.

"Don't you worry, I'll keep you safe! I know the sea like the back of my hand, so I can keep you out of harm's way!" He wonders silently why his spell isn't working, sliding off the rock and swimming over, reaching up to grab your legs. But before he can, you swing them back up over the railing, now standing on it to look down at him. His hands twitch at the absence of your legs, but his smile doesn't falter as he moves back a bit.

"I'm sure you could.. but I just don't know!" You drape your arm over your forehead dramatically, earning a very brief deadpan from the siren beneath you. "I think it might be a little better if we stay right here..y'know?" You smile.

"Aww, don't you trust me?" He presses a hand to his ribcage. "We don't have to go far, just jump in the water with me right here! We can swim around your boat. C'mon, just join me!" He splashes a little water your way, making you jolt a bit. You nearly fall, but balance yourself quickly.

"Why don't you come up here, Dream? You can jump this high, you've done it lots of times. We can talk here on the railing. And maybe I could jump down with you from here!" You crouch, patting the rail below you. Nightmare pauses a moment, thinking before smiling again and pushing himself upwards to lean against it. You slide off the rail, standing in front of him and resting your hands at his sides. Quite close..

"..Okay, I'm here. So..jump with me." He finds himself staring into your eyes, beads of magic sweat forming on his skull as the exhaustion of holding this form accurately begins taking a toll on him. Why isn't his spell working? There's nothing blocking your ears, you should've obeyed the first time.

You trail your hand along his jawline, making him shiver. Lifting his chin, you give him a sly smile. He freezes, eyesockets widening a bit. His hands lay suspended midair, twitching a bit.

"Hi, Night. Y'know, if you wanted to see me so badly you could've just said so..I wouldn't mind, big guy." You grin, your face slightly darkening. A bright shade of green crosses what's supposed to be Dream's skull, as the illusion finally drops. Nightmare's true form finally manifests before you, an irritated (but also flushed) expression on his face.

"How? My trick was perfect, I don't understand." He furrows his browbones, narrowing his eyesockets. You let out a chuckle, replying softly.

"I'm immune to siren calls, Nightmare. Dream tried it on me to see what would happen a while ago..nothing. Nice try, though."

"..You know, I could just as easily pull you into the water right now and devour you." He glares at you as he speaks, and yet he doesn't shy away from your touch in the slightest..you narrow your eyes, reading him like a book.

"But you won't..you like me too much for that, don't you?" You smile as you tease him, watching as his face glows a little brighter. "Admit it to yourself..you don't hate me one bit. In fact, it's the opposite..isn't it?"

"You're a fool." He begins to back away, but you put your hand over one of his.

"But I could be your fool..if you want me to." You raise your brows, earning a scoff from him as he moves away. You shift your arms, resting your cheek against one of your hands.

"Don't be ridiculous. I loathe you. I want you gone." He crosses his arms, tentacles writhing about beneath him as he leans against the railing, the only thing keeping him in the air.

"Yeah..and I'm half mermaid." You let out a little laugh, earning a light shove from him. Falling over, you kick your legs a bit before pushing yourself back up. "Admit it! You liiiike meee.." There's a hint of a sing-song tone to your voice, making his browbones twitch.

"In your dreams." He averts his eyelight, ignoring his still-pounding heart.

"I heard my name?"

Dream's voice startles you both, his bright and cheery smile ever present as he sits on the rock Nightmare had just been lying on.

"Hi Dream!" You wave down at him, earning a very enthusiastic wave in return. "I was just talking to Nightmare."

He gasps, putting his hands on his cheeks. "Night, you came to visit them on your own! That's awesome! Such progress!"

He puts his hand against his forehead, groaning into it. "Stop bringing it up.."

You give his shoulder a nudge, smiling smugly as he lets out an annoyed sigh. As you turn your focus back to Dream to hold an energetic conversation, he smiles a bit in the corner of your vision.

[lunarfleur]

Miles Morales Dating Headcanons

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:fighting mentions

A/N:I’m in love with him he’s a cutie patootie ☹️☹️

This is x gender neutral reader!

He’s honestly just so cute

The type of guy to smother you in kisses and hug you really tightly every time he sees you

Simple nicknames like babe. Throws in a Cariño or Hermosa every once in a while

Like I said, he’s a hugger in every universe.

If you don’t greet him with hug the second he comes into view, there’s a problem

“Not a hi…? Not a hug? A kiss? Hello??”

Just like Earth 42! Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

Like it’s typically organized anyways, but he makes sure to clean clean before you come over

Vacuums, dusts, picks up clothes

Makes sure his bed is made perfectly, fit for only the best cuddles

Movie nights happen as often as possible

You’ll cuddle up on his bed, suffocatingly close to each other

It’s so easy to fall asleep because he’s so warm and he smells so good

Initiate any form of affection with him. He’ll die.

You kiss him? Dead.

You compliment him? Dying.

Tell him you love him? On the floor.

He’s just so in love

He never gets over it

Same with Earth 42! Miles, he’s young and you make him excited

Playful, giggly make out sessions that never lead anywhere except tickling or play fighting with each other

Lip biting, laughing, uncoordinated movements that have you both making fun of each other

The sweet, happy make outs that make it seem as if the world is perfect.

In no way is this boy ashamed of PDA.

You know the scene in ITSV, where his dad drops him off at school and makes him say he loves him?

He’s like that.

Nothing can come between your feelings for each other.

Ankles hooked under the table and shoulders touching when sitting next to each other.

Holding hands when walking together.

Those kinds of things.

He’s a dork. Everyone knows it. He knows it. You know it. The whole school knows it.

He’s come to terms with it. It doesn’t bother him anymore.

He doesn’t have many friends, but it doesn’t bother him.

He’s friendly to everyone and, even though he isn’t besties with everyone he’s ever seen, people have respect for him

He’s got this showy kind of confidence to him, and it’s so easy for him to make people laugh.

He’s warm and playful, almost in a nostalgic kind of way.

Miles loves his parents more than everything. Not only did they give him life, but they’ve been there for him through everything.

He knows that.

He wants you to meet them, for you to become a part of the family.

He wants to show you everything that makes him Miles.

And, of course, he wants to meet your family.

He wants to see where you come from.

But if you say no, that you just don’t think it’s a good idea, he won’t push it.

His parents are sweet people

They’re understanding

So when they walk in on one of those playful make outs?

The first few times they drill him about being safe. The rest of the times they let it go.

Fighting with Miles is one of the biggest differences between him and his Earth 42! counterpart.

This Miles will yell. Not necessarily at you, just in general.

He’s got big feelings and a lot to say

Of course he hates raising his voice at you, but he honestly does it without thinking

But fights with him never last long.

He won’t let you go until the problem is resolved.

Even if you’re at his place and his mom hesitantly reminds him that he has to walk you home

He makes it clear that nobody’s leaving

He does his best to stay calm, and you two talk it out

And then he kisses you and gives you one of those big hugs

Everything’s always okay with you two.

Miles was honestly okay with telling you about being Spiderman.

He knew he was gonna disappear randomly. So after a bit, he told you.

It was surprisingly nonchalant

And he told you about how it all happened

He included his uncle’s death, Peter, Gwen, even “the pig who sounds suspiciously a lot like John Mulaney” as he calls him.

He takes you swinging and you two have dates where you watch he sunset on top a building

He doesn’t miss out on things as much as Earth 42! Miles does.

Miles takes every opportunity to draw you

He has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks filled with pictures of you

You sleeping, you smiling, you doing literally anything.

He just thinks you’re so cute, he can’t help it.

[cringecompanionapologist]

Why Turlough Is Rarely Written Well

Classic companions have a habit of falling into Susan/Ian/Barbara archetypes. You have Men (strong, attractive, brave, good at the physical stunts the often older Doctors can't do), you have Women (okay there's actually some variety with this one since they're the most common. There are the sensible women who have none of the Doctor's shit or the plucky girls who love assisting the Doctor but are often written as stupid for plot reasons.), and you have Children (usually girls, but Adric also fits perfectly into the archetype. They're young and vulnerable but usually made abnormally smart to make up for it, with the exception of Dodo because the writers didn't know what to do with her).

Sometimes things can mix. Leela and Ace basically functions as all three categories at once. It's why they get so much EU material. They can fill basically any companion role depending on what you need. Some are sort of vague in their roles. Victoria switches between Woman and Child, not as a combination, but as if the writers didn't always agree on which one she was. Nyssa probably isn't a child, at least not by Season 20, but she generally plays the Child companion role. And, as I said, the Woman companion role is all over the place.

But, generally, Man doesn't have to be male if you're willing to let a girl fight and Child doesn't have to be a child if they still come across as innocent and/or unfamiliar with the world around them.

Throughout the 60s and 70s, Woman evolved (compare Barbara's role in the show to Jo's. This isn't bashing Jo. The character were just handled very differently) and Child was sort of phased out due to not fitting the UNIT setting. Man was also phased out once the Doctor learned space martial arts. You could also say that UNIT collectively was Man. This led the show to slowly transition from three companion teams (Man/Woman/Child) to two companion teams (Man/Woman or Man/Child depending on the team) to the single Woman companion you see throughout most of the 70s. Harry Sullivan was a brief revival of Man but you once again had a Doctor who could do the action stuff himself, so the writer's weren't sure where to go with him and he was written out after one season. The show stopped having male companions (unless you count K9, but I'd put him the secret fourth category of Robot).

The the 80s happened at the decided to have male companions again, but Tom Baker was still Tom Baker, and Peter Davison was the youngest, most physically capable Doctor yet. So, they took the Child archetype that had previously been exclusively female (Susan, Vicki, Dodo, Victoria sometimes, Zoe) and gender flipped it. Adric is basically a gender flip of Zoe, a teenage mathematical genius that stows away in the TARDIS and basically forces the Doctor to adopt them.

But then Adric blew up, but they still wanted a male companion around, and we got Turlough. And Turlough doesn't really fit any of the archetypes. He's not the brave, physically strong Man and he's too generally familiar with the world to be a Child. He's an alien, an outsider to what the audience thinks of as normal, like Leela and Nyssa, but he's lived on Earth for a while and is familiar with it enough to hate it. He doesn't carry that same sense of innocence.

That leaves Woman and though female companions had covered Man before, they'd never really reversed it. The sort of did at times with Steven, since he was sort of a merge of Ian and Barbara, but that was because the writers were used to having Barbara around and weren't sure how to make the show work without that role.

Turlough doesn't really fit the Woman archetype either. The Sensible Woman variant has to have a certain moral high ground and Turlough's morally ambiguous. The Plucky Girl variant needs to either be enthusiastic about travel, or be either very brave or borderline oblivious to danger. Turlough is very much aware of danger and is not a fan of it.

So Turlough doesn't really fit anywhere. Writers struggled to figure out what to do with him. Too much of the traditional companion role, especially for Men, was defined by courage and selflessness. Turlough had to learn to be that way as a character arc. There had been companions that struggled with being brave before. Susan and Victoria come to mind. But Susan was kind of all over the place and Victoria started off being pretty brave before being in constant peril made her a nervous wreck and she chose to leave the TARDIS to save her sanity.

So, you end up with a companion that didn't really fit any archetype and the previous companions he could most easily be compared to were Susan and Victoria.

So, when writing Turlough, writers end up with two choices: to lean in or back out. They could write Turlough in a way similar to Susan and Victoria, intelligent enough to be reasonable competent, but physically and emotionally fragile. Or, they could try to make the character a bit more like earlier male companions, except he's complaining about it the entire time.

Writers prefer backing out to leaning in. That's because there's a bit of a double standard when it comes to gender stereotypes. You give a woman traits more associated with men, it's usually received positively. Leela stabs people, Ace beats up a Dalek with a baseball bat, everyone loves it. And they should. It's great. But when it's the other way around, giving a man traits more associated with women, it's usually based in negative traits and not received well.

It isn't always that straightforward. A female character who's assertive and tries to take charge but doesn't usually stab or beat people up will be classified as a "bitch". Strangely, a male character who's cowardly might also be called the same word. "Bitch" is apparently an insult specifically connected to gender nonconformity. Women who are too bold and men who aren't bold enough.

I've written before about how this affects fandom (and a good number writers) attitude towards Tegan. She's assertive, but not in a beat-up-daleks-with-a-baseball-bat sort of way.

This makes the TARDIS team of Tegan and Turlough interesting. They both play gender in a way that's usually seen as negative. Writers, if they want the characters to be likable, have to tone it down. Or, they play it as annoying and something for the audience to make fun of. They can't just accept it. Which would be the most interesting thing to do.

In my previous Tegan rant, I said there should be a story where the Doctor has to overcome his pride and listen to Tegan in order to save the day. She might not be a STEM genius, but she can be right about something. I also have another vague idea, a conflict between Tegan and Turlough, that would focus on Turlough saving the day by being non-confrontational.

The premise is that Tegan and Turlough get captured and locked up in a prison. Tegan fights with the guards and tries to escape, while Turlough tells her not to bother because the Doctor will show up and rescue them. Time goes by, the Doctor gets stuck in another plotline, and Tegan and Turlough are at risk of being executed. They can't just wait this out. Tegan gets more frantic in her escape attempts and more annoyed with Turlough, who is intimidated by the guards and doesn't really seem to be trying.

Then, there's a brief period where Tegan and Turlough are outside their cells, quite close to the keys to their cell. The guards are keeping a close eye on Tegan in case she tries anything, but they're not watching Turlough as closely. They don't think he's going to try anything. He basically uses Tegan's usual quarrel with the guards as a diversion so he can grab the key. Tegan catches on to the plan.

They're returned to their cell but Turlough doesn't actually have the key. Tegan gets pissed that he wimped out and this was all for nothing, only for Turlough to reveal that the cell is unlocked. He didn't take the key. There were keys to multiple cells around and he swapped their cell's key with another key, so the guards used the wrong key on their cell, leaving it unlocked. No one expected anything of him and there wasn't a missing key to attract attention. He found a way out to get around the guards without confronting them.

Then, to avoid making Tegan look bad for being defiant, she frees the other prisoners and rallies them to overpower the guards and escape, because sometimes the direct approach works too. Then they both have to rescue the Doctor.

I should probably just write this fanfic, but I don't have enough specific details yet.

Anyway, writers who try to make Turlough more "masculine" are cowards and boring.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Ink and Magic - The Rose-Red Tyrant

Author Notes: So this is a sort of halfway non canon compliant what if with the overblots and their aftermath. I've been considering, for quite some time now, why the Prefect (reader) gets to see what amounts to the overblot victims memories and hear what seems to be their thoughts regarding said memories. So I guess you could say this is a kind of headcanon for what happens in those moments. This isn't exactly romantic. in fact, I would say it counts as more platonic, but it certainly can be taken as shippy. This will also be a series, though the Diasomnia section won't come out until that entire matter is resolved in game. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Spoilers for Book 1: The Rose-Red Tyrant!!

[Heartslabyul: You're Here!] [Savanaclaw] [Octavinelle] [Scarabia] [Pomefiore] [Ignihyde] [Diasomnia: To be released]

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fic series/ Can be platonic or romantic/ fluff/ angst/ comfort/ Spoilers for Heartslabul overblot.

Word Count: 2311

The ground was a brutal red. Covered in crushed and bruised rose petals that mixed with dark ink and made everything slippery. 

All I could hear were the screams and shouts from those nearby, but rather than fleeing or continuing to shout directions and warnings until my voice was hoarse, I stood silently. Watching in quiet horror as Riddle stumbled, reeling from the magical attacks he’d just received from his fellow dorm-mates. 

His once soft gray eyes were a violent red and wide open as he stared at me with an expression that spoke of shock. Like his entire world had just come crashing down like a house of cards around him.

He was no longer a form of horror, as the monstrosity behind him collapsed in a flood of ink that spread across the already-soaked ground. 

Instead, Riddle now looked pitiful. Like a lost child. He was trembling all over, but he’d at long last stopped attacking, and I honestly wondered if he’d simply run out of steam.

But as I looked at him, an unexpected sorrow swelled within my heart and caught me off-guard as the young man looked down at his hands, still blackened with ink stains.

Bitter tears began to fill his red eyes, and his previously loud voice wavered as he began to speak, “I…. I was wrong?! But that’s…. Impossible…..” 

His hands came up to cover his eyes and hide the tears that now threatened to roll down his too-pale face.

 He was no longer a creature perfectly fit for nightmares, and my heart seized painfully at his next words. So soft and broken that they were barely audible, “Isn’t it…Mother?”

 With those words, he gave a shudder and stumbled forward, his hands limply falling away from his face, which was now streaked with ink from his stained hands.

This was a Riddle I’d never seen before. One that was completely different from the mature but tyrannical young man I’d met.

 This was a young boy who was lost, broken, and one that I simply couldn’t abandon in this moment.

I didn’t know if it was instinct or something else, but something drove me forwards. Spurring me into running towards the young man, who had begun to collapse forward. 

My feet slid against the inky but tattered rose petals that littered the ground. Evidence of the horror we’d all just witnessed. The other students' voices followed me as they let out alarmed cries. Ace’s voice was perhaps the most prominent as he shouted my name. 

The panic in his voice almost made me want to stop even as my tired legs continued to carry me forward.

In truth, I had only one thought in my mind: that the young man in front of me, Riddle, didn’t need to be alone. 

It was a truth that was whispered to me from within my own mind. Something I knew as a solid fact even though I had no proof.

I barely even knew Riddle. All I knew of him was tyranny.

But I held out my arms, catching the small young man that I now realized was quite frail despite the immense magical power he possessed.

 He clung desperately to my shirt with trembling hands, and a sob tore its way out of him. I could practically feel the cold ink staining my shirt as it seeped through the thin fabric, and we both sank to the ground. 

He was exhausted, with his head drooping towards me like he could no longer stay awake. And as my knees hit the soggy ground, a wave of fatigue washed over me that promised me peace if I would just let it carry me away. 

I faintly heard my name get called yet again, but it sounded far enough away to be in an entirely other world.

Perhaps it was a voice from my world, trying to call me back home.

But even with that thought in mind, I didn’t respond. Instead, I fell into a darkness that consumed me, and I slumped forward. Still holding the small, broken boy close to me. As if that could bring him the peace he seemed to so desperately need.

But I wasn’t meant to slumber peacefully here, and though the deep darkness of what I thought was deep sleep surrounded me, I was not truly resting.

I looked around in confusion, looking for someone else in this deep darkness. After all, it didn’t feel like I was alone. It felt like I was surrounded in a space that was filled with only myself and one other person.

 It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling out of my depth as I glanced around in confusion. Finding that here, I was no longer exhausted or sore from the events that had just unfolded in Heartslabyul. 

Like a glitch on a television screen, the blackness flickered, and a hazy scene appeared. That reminded me of an old black-and-white movie recording. 

Even the voices were crackly.

“Happy 8th Birthday Riddle….” I frowned slightly and shook my head, wondering what I was seeing. 

I had to be dreaming, but…. Something about this didn’t feel like a dream. It felt more like I was trying to sift through my memories and was instead being faced with wholly unfamiliar images. 

A large woman stood, smiling down at an adorable red-haired boy whose face I immediately recognized with an alarmed jolt. 

Riddle. Without a doubt, that was the very same young man who’d just attacked me, my friends, and the other members of the Heartslabyul dorm in the midst of what I could only describe as a psychotic break.

I stared in a strange mixture of fascination and confusion at the scene before me as a voice that, unlike the others, was perfectly clear began to narrate the scene that lay before me. Riddle’s voice.

It sounded like he was right next to me, but when I turned, he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I appeared to be alone. 

Alone, but I was wholly surrounded by the scene of what seemed to be his, Riddle’s, childhood.

 “I’d always wanted to try one of those tarts with the bright red strawberries….”

His voice was as solemn as ever as it calmly explained the thoughts and feelings of the child Riddle, who seemed to star in all of these scenes. But the image before me did not stay peaceful, and I soon came to realize a darker truth about what was unfolding in front of me.

I listened and watched with mounting horror as memories from Riddle’s childhood, barren of playing and fun, played in front of me like a film. Every bit of it was narrated by a numb-sounding Riddle himself.

My eyes went wide as a young, brightly smiling Trey flashed in front of me. He was accompanied by another boy, whom I soon realized was that cat-like fellow I’d met in the Heartslabyul maze. Chenya, I believed his name was.

It was then, right after their appearance, that everything truly began to snowball out of control. 

Tiny Riddle finally got to experience the joys of childhood, only to be caught by his mother, who enforced even more rigorous rules on him. And it was painful to see the small child, who would someday become the young man I’d met not too long ago, weep as he was denied some of the most basic aspects of childhood.

I was beyond enraged on behalf of the small child in front of me. But what made it worse was Riddle’s voice, which was still narrating each scene even though tears were slowly beginning to choke off his voice, “But Mom… Why? Why does my heart hurt so much?”

I covered my mouth, as if that could somehow help me cope, as I listened to the young man whom I could hear crying, but I couldn’t see nor comfort.

The scene in front of me slowly faded to black, leaving me only with Riddle’s voice, begging for an explanation as I turned, searching for him in vain. But he was invisible, in this darkness, as he pleaded for an answer to his questions, “Tell me, Mom, please….. What rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?”

I closed my eyes, shaking my head as if that could somehow help me figure out what to do, and then, like flipping a switch, it all stopped.

I opened my eyes wearily, only to find I’d been crying silently as I‘d held Riddle close to my chest. My cheeks were even still wet, judging from how cold the breeze was on my face.

Riddle himself was still asleep. His expression slowly relaxed from an upset that matched his tear-choked voice, which I’d just been listening to, to a more peaceful one that suited him far better. 

And it was a relief to see him relax after having seen what I’d just witnessed in whatever that dream was.

 One of his hands was still fisted in my shirt as he clung to me like a small child, causing me to smile slightly even as I shifted to better examine him. I froze mid-motion as I heard a sharp inhale from just next to me. It was then that I realized that both me and Riddle were not, in fact, being supported by one another.

Instead, it was the young man who knelt next to us who held us upright with his arms wrapped securely around the two of us in a sort of embrace.

I looked over and made eye contact with warm, honey-colored eyes that stared at me, relief sweeping through them as I managed to croak out the man’s name, “Trey.”

He let out an exhale, a relieved smile appearing on his face as his grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly, almost like he was trying to reassure himself that I really was present and that all was well.

“Thank goodness. You’re back,” His voice was soft, more of a breath than anything, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by ‘back’. 

But I didn’t get to ask, and he didn’t get to continue since I heard three familiar voices both yell the same name at the same time.

“Y/N!” 

I half turned, finding I was still exhausted and slumping against Trey a bit more as I spotted Ace and Deuce both staring at me in wide-eyed relief before they both took off as Cater, who was right behind them, was still turning to look at me. 

The two boys' feet dug into the still-inky ground as they darted towards where I knelt with Trey and Riddle. 

Deuce reached us first, hitting his knees and grasping my arms as he scanned me for injury, “Are you alright?”

His voice was trembling as he questioned me, looking up at me with wide, panicked eyes. His expression was mirrored by Ace, who was desperately asking me what had happened while Cater appeared behind them. Carefully scanning both me and Riddle.

“Hey, hey. You’re crowding them. They only just came too,” Trey’s grip on me shifted in an almost protective fashion as he spoke, and I realized I was still relying heavily on him for support.

Crowley walked up far more slowly than the others, his eyes on me and a frown on his face as he began to open his mouth to say something. 

But before he could speak, one of Riddle’s hands, which had been gripping my arm this entire time, tightened slightly, and he made a mumbling sound.

All eyes darted to the young man, who slowly opened his eyes, once more a soft grey not unlike that of a dove’s feathers, with a groan. 

He looked up, making eye contact with me before looking at Trey and then back at me. 

Cater was saying something to both of us, but I'd tuned it out almost completely as I scanned the boy for any injuries. 

Riddle continued to look up at me with hazy eyes as I carefully scanned his small form, frowning as I noted exactly how exhausted he still looked. 

After a brief moment, though, he pulled away from both me and Trey. Distancing himself as his eyes slowly cleared and the gravity of the entire situation sank in.

From there, the situation devolved fairly quickly, with numerous questions being asked and reconciliations being made. Trey swept in towards the end of things, with Cater by his side like two concerned parents. Demanding that me and Riddle both go to the infirmary for a checkup.

It wasn’t until we were alone in that cold room filled with cots that Riddle made eye contact with me once more, “My… memories. You saw them, didn’t you?”

I was silent for a moment as I recalled those strange scenes in flickering black-and-white before I at last nodded, “Yes, I don’t know what caused it but…. Yes, I believe I did…. I heard you too.”

He nodded, falling silent as we waited for the nurse to enter and give us a clean bill of health. After a few moments, he met my gaze again, “I think we…. Connected for a moment there. I don’t know how, but you saw my memories and heard my thoughts. And I… I felt you there.”

I watched him quietly, not sure of what to say as he fell silent. But I couldn’t blame him. I too wouldn’t know what to say or think if some had seen my memories.

After a moment, though, he looked over at me with a troubled expression before he spoke  quietly, “If I were you, I would tell the Headmaster about this.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say since something told me neither of us knew what this meant for me or him.

[wonnieluv]

Enhypen…

Surprising you at your graduation

!HYUNG line!

masterlist

tried to be gender neutral but there’s mentions of heels/dresses

Sunghoons got very derailed and has a mild suggestive joke towards the end so be warned

Heeseung

When you found out they were doing an extension of the FATE tour in May, you were a bit scared because that aligned with your graduation. Heeseung had assured you he’d do anything he could to make it but as it would appear there was overlap. Of course you understood, he was always supportive and understanding and you would be too so as sad as you were you made sure to plan a little celebration for when he’s off the tour.

What you didn’t expect was to see Heeseung grinning ear to ear with a bouquet in his hands sitting in the front row when you walked across the stage. It took everything in your body to keep yourself from leaping from that stage and running into his arms but you kept your composure and proceeded to make your way across the stage. The smile on your face with the happy tears forming in your eyes almost made it hard for you to walk down the stairs in your heels but fear not, no one could ruin this moment for you. It was like hell sitting through the rest of the ceremony when the only thing you could think of is getting up from your seat and running to him. When the time came to finally move your tassel you locked eyes with him once again. You didn’t expect to be so emotional but seeing him be there with you on such a huge moment meant the world. You felt as if you could fall in love with him all over again. The bone crushing hug you gave him almost made your family upset that you went to him first before them but the smiles on your faces mixed the tears streaming down your face made any complaints (although joking) go away immediately.

Jay

You were going to school in the Seattle-Tacoma area and your graduation just so happened to PERFECTLY align with the FATE+ tour in Tacoma (ig you could say it was fate 🫣). Despite them having a little extra time in the area compared to other cities, the schedule was absolutely packed. From the concert to the baseball game to trying to find time to rest throughout the days in the US, Jay told you he wouldn’t be able to make it. There were conflicts within the rehearsal time and he already had barely any time to spend with family and friends that you assured him that you would be okay and you would see him at his concert the following day

You pledged to yourself that you knew Jay would support you through anything so you made sure to hold your head high because this was your moment! You worked so hard to get here and you should be so proud of yourself. You received your diploma and sat through the rest of the ceremony watching your peers receive the celebration they deserved. After the ceremony ended you met with your family and friends. They all gave you flowers and their congratulations all being well aware just how hard you worked for this moment. They also knew Jay couldn’t be there sadly so they decided to surprise you with a life size cardboard cutout of him in your favorite outfit from MAMA last year. It brought quite the chuckle from you knowing they were doing it to cheer you up.

“I think I look much better in 3D” you hear from behind you. It doesn’t take more than a second for you to whip your head around and see Jay standing there with the most beautiful bouquet in his hand with a smile to match. You threw yourself at him almost knocking him over as he said a congratulations into your ear. You stayed at the ceremony for a bit longer before he took your family to a restaurant for dinner. When you asked how he was able to make it he told you “we finished our rehearsal just before, I just had to be here to see you.” His reply only made your smile widen. The warmth you felt from his words made the day that much better

Jake

I’m not sure who was more excited for your graduation,you or Jake. He went with you to pick your dress and made sure that you could wear his favorite chain that he always wears when you walk across the stage because, despite his begging, you were not allowed to have him walk across the stage with you. He’s just the cutest throughout everything and he makes sure that you’re staying positive through all of your finals so that you aren’t too stressed. If he can help you with any paper, presentation, project, whatever he’ll sit with you at your desk for hours.

A week before the ceremony he comes up to you and quietly says that he has something to tell you. Believing that something was wrong you sit him down and he can’t even look you in the eye until he says quietly “I can’t go to your graduation baby.” Now of course you’re sad but you never doubt his love and support for you so you comfort him.

Now it was originally his idea to surprise you but he CANNOT LIE. He couldn’t look you in the eye because he knew that if he did he’d bust into a smile and that would ruin the whole plan so he opted to look away. Let’s just say he lasted pretty long. He lasted all the way to the ceremony thinking he did so so well in keeping the surprise but when you entered the auditorium with the other grads and looked him directly in the eye with the brightest smile, he knew that you’d probably known all along but let him have his surprise anyways. So he wasn’t too sad. Just know that he’s made it his life goal to properly be able to surprise you. Who knows his success in that venture might end with a ring on your finger.

Sunghoon

All grads are given a certain amount of tickets so when you had an extra you made sure you’d save it for Sunghoon just in case he could make it. You had asked him if he could and his immediate response was “I’m sorry baby I can’t be there”. Of course you wish he could be there but you both have your busy lives to attend to and you know he’d be thinking of you and was as supportive has he could be without physically being there.

You sent him pictures of all the different dresses and shoes and he gave you his honest opinions on what he thought looked best. He also made sure you had at least one piece of jewelry from him to wear that day as well.

Now as much as you wanted for him to be there, it’s not like you were alone. You were surrounded by friends and family and you were excited to celebrate your achievements with your loved ones. You had all planned to go to a restaurant that you frequently went to for special occasions in town and your parents made a point for you to ask Sunghoon if he could make it. You had to told him he would most likely be busy but you chose to ask anyway. He replied “I’ve got an important event to attend with the boys. It should be over around 5:00pm and I can join then.” Which that was perfect timing because your graduation was set to finish at 5 anyways.

Ceremony day came VERY quickly. You were wearing a very simple Tiffany necklace and bracelet that Sunghoon gifted you that went perfectly with your outfit! You walked the stage and got your diploma that you’ve worked so so hard for before joining your family in the reception area. You had exited the hall and were met with your own eyes staring right back at you. No there was no mirror in sight. You were face to face with your face except it was about 10x bigger the large cutout of your face being held by none other than Park Sunghoon who was also adorning a T-shirt with the same exact picture of your face on it (that may or may not be matching with your parents). You didn’t know whether you wanted to cry out of gratitude for him being there or embarrassment because OH MY GOD there’s a jumbo cutout of your head in this largely populated room. Regardless you go up to him and embrace him in the tightest hug possible.

Let’s just say he’s not impressed with how quickly you try to usher him out of there.

“What I wanted to talk to that professor more? Are you embarrassed baby? I can always take the shirt off you know? But my hands are kinda full can you help me?”

Can you tell he likes to make you flustered 🫣

That was quite the rollercoaster. Let me know if you want a maknae like version!!!

[ghxstfacesgf]

anchor: ethan landry x reader

Ethan returns from a ghostface attack to find you waiting for him, the only person who can ease his mind. His anchor.

Warnings: ya know violent ghostface things

Note: I wrote this super fast bc I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head. I realized after I wrote it that it’s pretty gender-neutral so enjoy! Let know how you like it! <3

A loud crash echos through the small apartment as a ghostface mask smashes into the dresser. An unlit candle falls, coating the wood floors in shards of glass. Ethan Landry tramples over them— breathing erratic, hands shaking, curly brown locks coated in sweat. The events of the night clouded his memory, an unsuccessful attack on the Carpenter sisters. He tried, he really did try, but to no avail. His father would return to the apartment any minute now. The apartment they had purchased as another hideout, other than the shrine. The boy could practically hear his father now: unfocused, sloppy, weak.

Ethan frustratingly ripped the cloak off his body, chucking it on the ground with a groan. With brown eyes prickling with tears, he collapsed on the bed head in hands. A small, comforting voice called to him from the corner of the room,

“Ethan?”

You. Of course it was you. Your voice laced in empathy and the only voice with the power to instantly calm Ethan Landry. He let out a sigh, not even needing words to communicate to you what he needed. You moved in front of him while he remained seated, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. Those eyes closed in relief and your delicate hands cupped his face. His medicine. His anchor.

You brought him closer to you, head nuzzled into your chest. Ethan melted instantly at your touch as you stroked his hair lightly, his eyes still closed. He had no idea when or how you’d gotten here and, frankly, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were here. You were there to save him from his own devilish thoughts. That’s what you’d always done for Ethan— grounded him. It was you that helped him balance along the line of good vs evil. He was a killer, yes, but he didn’t want to be. At least not when he was around you. Your glossy eyes, your perfectly imperfect smile, all of you made him forget his family’s plan. No— his family’s mission. One that he almost considered aborting at the sight of you. Almost.

“What happened, Eth?” His eyes fluttered open at your question. He didn’t know why, but he felt like dumping all of his trauma onto you. The only person in world he felt like would truly listen to him without judgment.

“I failed. Again, y/n, I failed. And my dad and Quinn will be back here any minute to berate me for it. He will go on and on about Richie. “If Richie was here this”, “if Richie was here that,” it’s exhausting never being good enough,” Ethan rambled, his voice cracking. Tears were begging to be released but he blinked them away. He sighed, bringing a hand to your face to brush away a stray lock of hair.

You smiled down at him understandingly. “But how did you fail?”

He scoffed at your comment, “how did I fail? Y/n, I didn’t kill anyone that’s how I failed! That’s all he cares about!” Ethan’s hands, that were wrapped about your waist, tightened in his annoyance.

“No.” You spoke calmly, pulling back from the boy in front of you.

“What?”

“No.” Ethan’s eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he, too, pulled away. You were starting to sound like a parrot at this point. “Ethan, what happened tonight?”

He blinked at you. Why did you have that look on your face? Why weren’t you scared? He had just admitted to you he was ghostface, you’d even seen the mask once he entered the apartment. Why were you still here?

“I already told you. I didn’t kill anyone. I was supposed to, supposed to attack Sam and Tara.”

You closed the gap between the two of you once again. A smile full of pity played on your pink lips. Ethan felt his heartbeat begin to race again and he wasn’t sure why. He tried to think, but he couldn’t. How did you even get here? How did you even know this apartment existed?

“You didn’t fail, baby,” your hands cupped his face again, though they were colder now. “You did kill someone.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, he could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. His eyes closed, the memories of the night flashing across his mind faster than he could stop them. And boy did he desperately want to stop them.

Sam and Tara’s apartment. Glass breaking. Screaming. Ethan lunged for the sisters, managing to slice Sam’s forearm. She fell to the ground— this was his moment. The moment he would finally make his father proud. The blade raised above the boys head. He brought it down, hard and fast. Although it wasn’t Sam he’d just mutilated. It was you. Those eyes he’d once became entranced in looked up at him one last time. This time filled with hatred and fear. Blood soaked your navy top as he removed the blade from your chest. You’d gotten in the way, how could you be so stupid? The others called your name and Ethan ran. He wanted to stay and help you, he really did. He wanted you to be alright. The sounds of Tara’s screams confirmed his fears.

Ethan’s lips began to form a reply but you’d cut him off, “you didn’t mean to.”

His eyes looked up at you frantic, unable to stop the tears from flowing now. “I don’t understand, you’re here! I can feel you,” the boy pulled your hand from his cheek. Both of his hands cupped yours as he brought it to his lips, kissing your hand softly. “You feel real.”

“You know I’m not, Ethan. You know what you did, you know you didn’t mean to. This isn’t what you want, you’re not a killer.” Your words seemed to pierce him like a blade. Like the blade he’d shoved into your chest just hours ago. He cried now, cried harder than he ever had. At some point his hands released yours and those curly locks fell wet against his forehead.

The door to the apartment swung open harshly. Ethan’s attention was torn away from you. It was Detective Bailey.

“There he is! My boy,” Bailey smiled wildly, arms widened for a hug. “I didn’t think you had it in you, to kill y/n.”

At the sound of your name Ethan’s head turned back to where you were standing. Your figure gone now, only a window overlooking the city replaced it. He felt like he had been the one murdered.

“I’m proud of you, son.” Those words, the only words Ethan had wanted to hear, snapped him away from his sorrow. Eyes glistened up at his father. They embraced.

You had been Ethan’s anchor, the one thing keeping him somewhat sane. But, you were gone now. It had to happen, it did. Ethan knew that now. Without you, he could finally live up to his fathers expectations.

He could become a true psychopath.

[cheesus-doodles]

Since I rarely saw (y/n) being an executive alongside Hanma and Kisaki, here I go with platonic Hanma, (y/n), Kisaki trio. Those two spoil you when you are very much capable of buying your own things, probably teased you for being single when those two ARE THE REASON WHY YOU'RE SINGLE, won't date you but won't allow anyone to touch you either. You're probably hated by the girls Hanma and Kisaki surrounded themselves with tho.

IM FEELING SOME HCs SO HAVE SOME ANON - these takes place in the future between the Bloody Halloween arc and the Black Dragon arc

Masterlist

‎

Toman Executive Reader + Yan BFF Hanma & Kisaki HCs

Yandere Platonic Hanma & Kisaki

how you managed to befriend these two delinquents of all people is a different matter, but needless to say once they were fixed on you, they don't ever leave again

if you already had another job, too bad, you don't anymore - Hanma and Kisaki would have pulled out all stops to get you out from there, even if it meant burning the entire company down

these two (mostly Kisaki) definitely only agreed to you being a Toman executive alongside them because it would be so much easier to keep an eye on you

none of the other Toman executives understand why you are even an executive to begin with, as you’ve never been a formal part of Toman before - you only pulled in much later on once Kisaki became Mikey's right hand man

and neither were you able to stomach the mere mention of murder, let alone any of the more more awful and gritty crimes that Toman gets up to

you're barely even present at the regular earning meetings, since your job is a very surface level job, in charge of running of their smaller shell companies, and you don't exactly bring in the big bucks for the gang

but of course no one is going to question Kisaki about it, especially not if Mikey has already agreed to it

you're still given a hefty salary despite contributing almost nothing though, courtesy of your two friends

but that doesn't matter, since they would buy everything for you

house? nope, you stay with them in their Toman penthouse for "safety reasons", and no one seems to be be willing to rent or sell to you for some reason

clothes and bags? oh whaddya know, they mistakenly bought the wrong size/fit/style/gendered clothes again and its perfectly in your size and suits you - you don't want to these extremely expensive items to go to waste do you?

food? why do you want to go out and eat when they have their own personal, vetted team of chefs who can whip anything you can think of up?

you're spoiled and pampered whether you want to be or not, because Kisaki and Hanma are incapable of seeing you as anything but that small fragile friend that they made all those years ago

and you would always be that small friend to them who couldn't even take a fall without crying, let alone throw a punch to save your life

you weren't built for this world, certainly not their dark, messed-up world, and therefore it's up to them to shelter and protect you

you brighten their bloody lives, so its no wonder that these two love to spend every minute they can with you

anything that the two don't like, such as clothes that were too skimpy for their taste or that they didn't look good on you, gifts given to you by people they didn't approve of, would evaporate the moment you turn away

and you can't get a straight answer out of them what happened - they wouldn't lie to you, but that didn't mean they wouldn't run circles around your head with what they did with your stuff

no way would you be ever able to beat either men in their game of words

if not one or both of them being at your side constantly, they have an excuse to have a full team of their most trusted security forces accompany you absolutely everywhere

cameras and microphones absolutely everywhere in your home, at your office, in your car, hidden trackers on you and your stuff

these boys can't function without knowing everything about you and what you were doing - they just simply have to know that you were still alive, you were okay, and you weren't doing anything they wouldn't approve of behind their backs

like meeting strangers, getting into trouble with other gangs, or worst of all, finding a partner

even during meetings they have updates on your whereabouts and actions constantly pinging their phone

starts getting visibly fidgety when the updates go quiet for five minutes, to the point one or both of them would stand up and leave the room to call and get a hold of you

despite being part of the literal yakuza, you still have a set of rules that you have to follow, laid down by your two friends, which included not allowing you to get your hands dirty with actual yakuza work (the irony)

good cop, bad cop kind of system I would image, though the boundaries between good and bad are kinda blurred when it comes to Hanma and Kisaki

Hanma is more often than not the good cop; a lot more relaxed when it comes to you and your rules - more than happy to turn a blind eye to anything less than serious if it met you would come running to him to hide from Kisaki

would also be the one to spoil you rotten, taking you out for shopping and partying (at private Toman clubs with selected people only of course)

whereas Kisaki would be more the bad cop more often than not, being the one that has to remind you and hold you to their rules, and dish out the punishments whenever you break them

be it smacking you on your hands to the more severe locking you in a room for a week with no contact

but Kisaki does have his soft moments and Hanma does have his tougher moments - each of them have their boundaries when it comes to you and your antiques

they don't want to have to break bones or cut flesh to get you to listen to them, but push them to far and you probably wouldn't like what they become when their need to protect you and their jealousy get out of hand

no dating is an unspoken rule for you laid down by Kisaki, especially so among the other executives, though not that you know about it

doesn't matter if its a boy, girl, or anything in between, the only people in your life should just be Hanma and Kisaki

but you're still a sight for sore eyes when you do get invited to their manager meetings, with the rest of the executives being able to breathe a bit easier and relax even in the presence of Kisaki

they know that your presence means that none of the two would be pulling any funny business

neither like to have to beat the living shit or execute someone in front of you, so that is usually kept behind close doors

they keep an eye on the few executives who they think might be more of an issue to handle if they get to you, or they think you're one charming smile away from falling for

you have tried making small talk with a few of them, only for the reaction you get being for them to simply look away and pretend you haven't said anything, to whoever it is scrambling to get away from you

friendly, smiling face at you; dirty, warning side eye when facing away at everyone else

neither Hanma nor Kisaki would touch you either - no no, they can never see you in that kind of light

and neither did you see them as potential romantic partners

so single you remain, even if its against your will - none of your dates ever seem to go right, if they even turn up

Hanma lives for excitement, so drugs and girls seem to be up his alley whenever he ventures out into the night, whereas Kisaki doesn't seem to be the sort to go out of his way to get girls, but no doubt with his position of power there will be those who want to be seen with him and maybe even catch his eyes

so no doubt you would always be crowded around by jealous girls who can't believe that of all people you're the one that seems to always have Kisaki's and Hanma's attention

they won't tolerate any sort of actual malice or slander tossed your way though, and especially not any sort of advance on you though Toman should know better

a general increase in crime can be noted on those nights that they allow you out

p.s. if you read this, thanks for reading to the end! do consider coming to join us on Discord! i'm always there and I love TR

[murderturtles]

To my American followers, I’m going to make something perfectly clear. As much as I hate the idea that the U.S. is the centre of the planet, shit that happens there has tangible effects on the rest of the world. That’s not hyperbole or theoretical. It’s already happening, even in countries you haven’t invaded in about 212 years.

We have MAGA here. In Canada. For presumably no reason. We inexplicably have people here with Trump stickers and flags all over their ugly trucks.

We have people here who only watch American news sources, including Fox. We have people who don’t understand our own political system because they’re too busy consuming American media.

We have provincial governments rolling back protections for trans children. We have protests in the street over SOGI, which for the record, is just a policy in place preventing teachers from answering questions about gender and sexuality with a religious lean. We have pushbacks against immigration. We have people who think the recent BC election was stolen, not because our politicians are perpetuating the idea, but because yours fucking are.

Not voting is not an act of defiance. It does not do anything but forfeit your power. If everyone wakes up and thinks their vote is pointless and they shouldn’t bother, then of course it fucking will be, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Don’t think for a second that the way you vote only affects the U.S., which should be enough of a reason to anyway. If the United States falls to fascism, everyone else is fucked.

Vote like you’re voting for about eight billion people. Vote for those of us who can’t, and can only sit here and watch and scream.

[decaffedthoughts]

Kinktober Fic 1

Kinks: corruption and dacryphilia

Other content: daddy kink (it's Chan, I have to), lingerie, and overstimulation

Gender neutral afab reader

980 words

Happy birthday Chaniel! I'm a liiiiittle late, but it's fine

Chan has been nothing but the sweetest man in the world in your entire relationship so far. It's kind of insane honestly, especially compared to the other guys you've been with or talked to. In the realm of the sexual it's even more clear, with how he checks on you constantly, something that probably hadn't even crossed the mind of those other guys.

So, yeah, Chan's been great. But right now, you want more from him and you know you won't get it unless you beg and convince him that you really want it. Good thing you have a plan.

Buying the skimpiest and prettiest little set of lingerie you could find, in a nice baby blue, exuding innocence that just says 'ruin me'. Now you just have to hope that Chan gets the hint. Though you are not above begging for it.

Good thing to, cause it turns out you just might have to. There's nothing strictly *wrong* with what's happening, of course not, you just need a whole lot more than what he's giving. And you know he can give more.

You take a little bite into his neck and then, "Channie."

He stops, clearly your tone or something is different, even if you didn't strictly mean for it to be.

"Yes, angel? Is something wrong?" He's so adorably concerned, you feel bad for making him worry about something like this.

"No, nothing's wrong just. How do I say this."

"You know you can tell me anything, darling. Anything you need, anything you want." Oh what a sweet man he is, not a clue what is about to come out of your mouth.

"Chan, I want you to ruin me. To make me dumb, to make me cry, get just shy of completely breaking me. I know how much you go to the gym, I know you can. And I bet you want to. Daddy." You lean back and blink at him coyly through your lashes.

As if you hadn't heard him refer to himself jokingly as 'daddy' one too many times and caught on. The sudden title doesn't even seem to process for him, it's as if you've just stun-locked him by accident. It takes a minute, and you start to wonder if you've gotten it all wrong, and you projected your desires onto him.

"You want me to make you cry? Tell me one more time that you want it, baby.

"Daddy, please. Wouldn't I be so pretty if I was laying there crying because you make me feel too good?"

His head falls back and he groans loudly, his eyes closed.

"Alright, yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Daddy can do that darling."

At first, you worry he's hesitant, holding back and not actually committed to making you cry, and you begin to whine about it. Chan shushes you, with his grin a little wild, he clearly has a plan that you can't see.

He fills you up perfectly, as always, and makes you feel so good. At this point he knows exactly what to do to make you fall apart, and he's as attentive as always. Then he doesn't stop. Usually he gives you a break before he continues to make himself cum, but this time he didn't. You hardly have time to think about it though, since the sensitivity makes you begin to whine and squirm a little. It's not bad, just different, and you're nowhere close to asking him to stop.

This time around he cums first, and you're so close that he just fucks you right into it after. Now, he does take a break, mostly for practical reasons. But he wastes no time replacing his cock with his fingers, and you gasp and moan out abruptly. It's just two, but the way you're stretched out means he can easily fit in a third, and he does. Two orgasms chained together and chasing a third has you nearly thrashing a bit more fervently now. This is what you asked for, and still you wouldn't dream of asking him to stop.

You're so close now that two little brushes of his thumb over your clit has you cumming, and it takes hold of your body in a way very new to you. Your back arches and doesn't allow you to force it down, though you can't try that hard right now.

"You okay, lovely? That one looked pretty straining." Chan pulls back, hovering over you with a slight furrow in his brow.

You smile up at him, nodding. "So good. You make me feel so good, Channie. But I haven't cried yet."

Chan raises his eyebrows at you, checking if you're serious. When you just nod again eagerly he shakes his head and sighs. "Alright, what my baby wants, my baby gets."

He goes straight to three fingers this time, and your back arches and you clench down on them. You're still so sensitive and not prepared for the sudden sensation. It only gets worse, or better, when he puts his mouth on your clit, tonguing at it. Your hands grip at his hair, trying in futility to push him away while your legs squeeze together around his head.

"Channie, Channie, Channie!"

"Nope, that's not what you call me. Say it properly and you can cum."

"Ah, sorry sorry. Daddy please! So close, so good, please. I need it."

"There you go, go ahead. Wanna taste you."

You finally feel the tears build and fall from the corners of your eyes, and they fall fast. There will be a print on the pillow tonight to remember this by. Your body is tired, not making you contort into odd positions, but still twisting feebly away, even if you don't really want to get away. Chan stops as soon as you start whimpering too pathetically.

"There's the tears. You got what you wanted, baby."

[johnwickcaretaker]

Hola

¿Crees que podemos hacer que John Wick sea tímido por primera vez?

¿Por ejemplo, cuando conozcas por primera vez al lector? ¿Cómo crees que reaccionaría? ¿Qué pensarías? ¿Sería torpe al respecto? ¿Tendrías ansiedad por miedo a no dejar una buena impresión?

Esto no me deja dormir.

English:

Hello!

I wasn't sure if you were talking about a first time meeting, or a first time having sex. So I wrote both! Here are three first times with John x Reader (gender not specified).

Español (de Google Translate, lo siento 😔):

¡Hola! No estaba seguro de si estabas hablando de un encuentro por primera vez o de una primera vez que teníamos relaciones sexuales. ¡Así que escribí ambos! Aquí hay tres primeras veces con John x Reader (género no especificado).

First Times

1: First Sight

The morning before a job, John took a seat at one of the little round tables outside a coffee shop. He was in an unfamiliar city, just passing time while he waited for night to fall and to bring death down on his mark. That was when he saw you. He watched you take a seat at another table and sip at your drink while you watched the world go by, the sun and wind playing in your hair. It was mesmerizing. Suddenly, he didn’t want to pass time anymore. He wanted to freeze it in place.

He wasn’t one to try to get a stranger’s number - in fact, his mind hadn’t even gotten that far. He just wanted to talk to you, to make you smile, to…he hardly knew what. But for some reason, he couldn’t bear to leave without learning your name. 

He couldn’t talk to you though, how dare he… What if you asked him a perfectly normal question, like what he was doing in a place like this, what brought him to this city? The nature of his life left a stain even on cute, innocent moments like that. Not to mention the look of him. He felt too big in his little wooden chair at a brunch table under that quaint scalloped awning, too out of place, too huge and obtrusive and…scary.

He was just stealing another glance at you out of the corner of his eye when he saw you looking back. Your eye contact set his every nerve on fire, and the fire spread right into his chest where it glowed incandescently. You raised an eyebrow and waved. He lifted one hand and waved back, a tiny movement laced with disbelief. And before he knew what was happening, you were calling him over, asking him to sit next to you. The first question was already a hard-hitter. “What’s your name?”

He should lie. “John. John Wick.” For the first time in weeks, maybe longer, he was beaming.

2: First Date

He had to look good for this date. He was used to looking good for important dates, but they were usually dates with death. This was something new. The suit wasn’t black, it was a soft grey with an open collar underneath. He had never had a relationship with a civilian before, and what he experienced with fellow underworld types could only generously be called even a situationship. Does one bring flowers on a first date? He didn’t know, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. You deserved flowers, and so much more. So when he came to pick you up, he was holding a bouquet of simple yellow marigolds, nothing too fancy.

After ringing your doorbell, he spent a few moments wondering if this was all just a cruel trick of the universe, giving him hope only to make things worse for both of you later. He glanced up and down the street, as if he expected his secret life to pop out from behind a fence and attack you. It wasn’t out of the question. If anyone wanted revenge for that job last week, this would be a good time to make a move, when he had someone to protect. But the evening remained peaceful, and the door finally opened. 

“John! Sorry about that, I was just finding my keys.” You paused, looking him up and down. He was standing so stiffly he’d probably need a massage later. (You wouldn’t mind terribly if he did…)

But he melted as soon as he saw you. “You…you look stunning.”

You were blushing, and you had to get him back for that. “I might say the same about you. You look…more like yourself this way. I don’t know if black is really your color after all.” Revenge was swift: his ears turned faintly pink and he didn’t seem able to respond. But there was a deep happiness in his eyes.

“Let’s go,” was all he said. And he touched you for the first time, his hand on the small of your back to guide you into his Mustang. It was a strong, careful motion, an effort to express his devotion to you even in the smallest touch. A thrill rushed outward from that small point of contact, up his arm to his heart, and he was glowing all over again. 

3: First Time

You’d been dating for a while. This moment had been coming. And by the time it arrived, he didn’t even realize how fast things were moving until it had already happened. One minute you were dancing in the living room, and then you were kissing, and then you’d pulled him down on top of you on the sofa, and there you were, right under him, so much of you, your scent enveloping him, your heartbeat racing against his chest, your knee between his thighs. He felt lost in a new world, and suddenly something sharp and bitter dropped into his stomach. You were so beautiful, and his hands were all over you, these terrible hands…what would they do to you? Would they corrupt the angel that had come into his life so unexpectedly? Could you really want this?

He was shaking. 

You leaned back to look at him, breathless. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I - are you?” His eyes squinted down at you, almost pained. It was a very earnest question. He wanted you to like this, for everything to be perfect. He wanted to believe this was happening at all.

You nodded. “I am. I trust you, baby. Completely.”

Your words affected him so deeply. A wave of tenderness passed over his features and his mouth swallowed yours again, his hands weaving into your hair. Slowly. Reverently. A heat spread between you, glowing and pulsing through both your bodies in sync. If you really, truly wanted him, he would deliver. He would put as much determination and care into pleasing you as he’d put into anything else for his whole life.