#like i feel like i need to save me setting up an emergency Please Help post for like a more emergency emergency

[gwensy]

ok maybe in the next life im born someplace that isnt falling apart w parents willing to raise me ok

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[shatterinseconds]

julance '24 week 2 : fire

Lance strikes the makeshift flint and sparks catch the tinder, igniting into a nice roaring fire by the time he’s done feeding it. Pleased, Lance sits back on his heels and grins at Keith.

“I know you didn’t learn that in Boy Scouts,” is all Keith says, staring blankly at the fire that will certainly help keep them alive until their teammates rescue them from the forest moon they are currently stranded on. A little gratitude would be nice.

“That’s insulting; I feel very insulted right now.” Lance forces his face to fall in mock outrage. “How do you know I’m not a boy scout? Don’t think I have what it takes?”

“Please,” Keith mutters. “You’d probably be too distracted trying to climb a tree or something.” 

“Eh” —Lance considers Keith’s reasoning— “I guess that’s accurate. Still, next time start your critiques with, ‘thank you for saving us, Lance.’”

Keith shakes his head, though the corner of his mouth twitches—slight but present. “‘Thank you for saving us, Lance.’”

“Perfect.”

Lance returns to tending the fire, working to make sure it will remain stable for the next few hours, as they set up their camp in silence. They gather all the necessary supplies from the crashed Altean pod—emergency rations and a couple blankets—preparing to wait hours for a rescue and hopefully not days. Though, their team has to realize they’re missing first. But when Lance can no longer ignore Keith’s curious gaze boring into him, he sighs. 

“One of my uncles is a survival nut,” Lance explains, giving into Keith’s silent version of excessive questioning. “I went on way too many camping trips with my siblings.” But he whips around, pointing at Keith. “I just don’t understand why Mr. Lone Wolf who lived in a freakin’ desert for a year doesn’t know how to start a fire.”

“I always had matches.” Keith shrugs. He’s at least made himself useful by gathering logs for firewood and clearing out a space on the forest floor for them to sleep. “And there was a convenience store a couple dozen miles away that I could get gas at.”

“Oh my god. Your impressive meter has just dropped like a good five levels.”

Keith raises a single eyebrow that disappears behind his bangs. “You’re impressed by me?”

“No,” Lance quickly corrects his mistake. His cheeks heat. “I just think you’re too good at too many things for your own damn good. Be human for once.”

“I’m half Galra.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Be half human, half alien for once, my god.”

“I have no issues saying that I’m impressed by you,” Keith comments as he tugs his hair into a stubby ponytail—not that it makes his hair any less mullet shaped. 

“Oh really?” Lance suddenly brightens, changing his whole demeanor. He lays on his side; his arm props up his head as he bats his eyes. “Tell me more. I love hearing how clever and handsome you think I am.”

Scowling, Keith lifts his leg and gently shoves Lance off balance with the toe of his boot. “I only said you're impressive.”

“I can read between the lines.” Unperturbed, Lance flashes him another grin, even though leaves and dirt tangle in his hair now as he sprawls out beside his hand-made fire, where no help was needed, thank you very much. Yeah, he is impressive. “Got a B+ in Literature once.” 

“That’s just so hot,” Keith deadpans, and Lance cracks into a gut-wrenching roll of laughter. 

The next few hours are going to be fun.

[river13245]

We are here for you

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Dean x Reader x Castiel

The sun was starting to set, it was at the perfect height to be directly into your eyes as you drove. You were reaching to pull the sun visor down so it would block at least some of the glare as your phone began to ring.

There were only a select few people who called you. Other people texted because they know you don't like talking on the phone unless it was an emergency. So once the visor was down you picked up your phone to see it was Castiel.

When you answer you put it on speaker and place your phone on your lap as you continued to drive. "Hey angel" the nickname you had for him rolled off your tongue easily and you knew that there would be a soft smile on his face. "hi y/n"

He wasn't one for nicknames really and that was okay. However that wasn't the thing that had you nervous is was the fact that after he had spoke your name a sigh escaped him. "Castiel what's wrong?" he never called you if there was something wrong. He would just appear so the fact that he hasn't yet really has you worried.

"its Dean" his words were forced out as if he was becoming frustrated with something. You knew that Dean wasn't doing to well with the passing of his mom, and the whole Jack situation.

That's actually why you were out running around trying to find any way to get his mom back but also to find any trace of Jack. There hadn't been and you knew they were not going to be happy with how there was no progress being made. "What's going on with him. Is he okay?"

Rustling was heard and a incoherent grumble was heard before you heard Cas telling someone to stay out the fridge. A few moments later Cas spoke into the phone again. "I cant help him this time. He needs you, we need you to come back to the bunker. He's drunk and no one can get him to calm down"

As you rest your head against the seat you sigh. You weren't angry or anything you just had to figure out how you would approach Dean to get him to calm down. "alright ill be there as soon as I can. I love you"

Before he hung up a soft "we love you too" was heard before the beeping sound. Tossing your phone to the passenger seat you pressed on the gas. You were known for always being a safe driver usually but on cases and when people needed you, all caution was thrown to the wind.

When you pull up the bunker you park beside baby and walk inside. The sight inside breaks your heart, Dean is standing with what looks like to be his fourth beer in his hand as he argues with Sam and Cas both. Cas is trying to be gentle with him but you can tell they had just got done arguing because of the tension through the room.

Sam is the first to notice you and he gives you a look that's like "save me". You point to tell him that its okay to leave and so he does but not before kissing the top of your head in a friendly way.

Now it leaves the three of you in the room. You walk up beside Castiel and look at Dean. "Dean can you please put the bottle down?" your voice was soft not wanting to come off as demanding or anything to tip him off but you should have known that wasn't going to work. Instead he lashes out. "of course you come as backup. I'm fine its my fourth beer I don't need you here. Neither does Cas"

The words he spoke were intended to hurt you and it works. He doesn't usually say hurtful things like that towards you its usually your own insecurities and other people that do. But you choose to not feel it at the moment instead you look at him and tell Cas that he can leave. He places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it letting you know that whatever Dean says isn't true before leaving.

Dean is taking another drink of his beer and you take it from his hands and toss it in the trash. This earns a incoherent mumble of words and you just shake your head. "come on dean you stink of sweat, dirt and alcohol. Lets get you cleaned up we could both use a shower"

As you spoke you were running your hand up and down his arm gently and it seemed to calm him down as he leaned into you. "never seemed to bother you before" This earns him a light slap on his arm as you begin to walk the both of you to the shower.

Closing the door you see him taking off his clothes and then you go over and start the water making sure its a nice temperature for you both. Then you take off your clothes and hold his hands as you walk under the water.

Making sure that he was the one under the water first you run your hands through his hair and then hold his face in your hands. "Dean Love." He looks down at you but doesn't respond "Me and Castiel love you. and so does your brother. Hell there are a lot of people who love you. You aren't alone in this. I promise"

He pulls you into a kiss and its sloppy but you both keep it short because tonight is not the night. "alright now clean yourself up. Ill wash your hair"

When you grab the shampoo he begins to wash off his body. You watch as the dirt washes off him and goes down the drain and then you begin to wash his hair. This results to him resting his head against your chest. Its the reason you choose to wash his hair at times like this.

Your hands run through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. The whole time you do this he is resting against you. Only pulling away to rinse his hair out and then you do your own routine before the both of you get out and into your pajamas.

Dean had only put on a pair of sweatpants while you put on sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt that was Castiel's. Dean was the first in bed and you got in beside him. When you both get comfortable you grab the remote and turn on scooby doo. This causes Dean to laugh a bit and he watches it.

You knew that Dean would be apologizing tomorrow for how he acted because its something he has been working on is apologizing for when he says or does things that are hurtful to people he loves. So tonight you push it to the side.

Hours later Castiel comes back to the bunker and sees the both of you asleep. He had been out looking for anything that would help us all so it was nice to see the two people he loves most asleep without any worries.

He walks over to the bed and covers the both of you up and kisses you and deans forehead. When he does this he uses some of his power to enter your dreams so he could make sure they were good ones before he walks off after saying "I love you both"

[scumbagjaeger]

Rating: 18+ mdni!

Whatever you do, do not imagine Porco realizing he has a breeding kink after inheriting the Jaw Titan (but in an angsty way)

Imagine knowing the Warriors, being friends with Reiner and the others but Porco always hating you for some reason? Like the constant bickering between you two, nothing you say will ever be right in his eyes, etc. You're friends with them all but you're vocal about how heartbreaking their line of work is. Thirteen year lifespan? Porco's adamant that it's their duty to protect and serve Marley, and that it's their legacy to do so, but their abandoning their families and giving up the chance to have families of their own? He just thinks your selfish for putting your own needs before your country.

After Fort Slava, Porco and the other Warriors return, now Porco has inherited the Jaw Titan and there's is a power and honor that he has, but he does feel the weight of his choice as well, and sometimes it keeps him up at night when he thinks about the clock that has started counting down in his mind? And about what you had said about legacy?

Sometime during the first battle in Liberio, Porco is in his titan form and he spots you rushing into a building that's too close to the fighting for his comfort, and he feels an overpowering urge to scream, to emerge from his titan and pull you out of there himself, before you get hurt. But then you're quickly running out, holding a child in your arms? He watches you bring the crying infant to the mother and father. They envelop you with open arms and are crying too, thanking you for saving their child, just moments before the house you were in gets crushed as the battle continues. He thinks about that at night too, how you risked your life to save another. He also can't get the imagine of you holding that child so close to your chest. He remembers you smiling as you discussed your desire for a child someday, and rather shamefully he can feel his chest tighten, a familiar pool of heat forming in his abdomen as he lets his thoughts wander.

Days later, you're with the Warriors again, still fazed with how close you were the warfare and the brutality of it all, and Porco can't even look at you because he's realizing now how close he got to losing you? But you're not even his, what is he talking about. He excuses himself from dinner as soon as you set your plate down next to him, and he can feel your gaze on him as he heads to his room.

Not too long after, there's a knock on his door and it's you, and it's like a dam has opened up. He unleashes everything onto you. How stupid are you, you could have gotten yourself killed, what is he supposed to do with himself if you're gone. It slips out before he can even think about it, but you're holding him, trying to calm him down because somewhere during his meltdown at you he's begun to cry, but he can't help himself from grabbing your jaw and bringing your lips to meet his.

When he feels your hands make their way through his hair, he wastes no time leading you to his bed, not breaking the kiss for a second until you are both panting for air, your back pressed against the cool sheets on his bed and he's already undoing the buttons on your shirt. He's not thinking straight, too delirious and drunk on you to even remove it entirely, so he undoes as many buttons as he can manage before dipping his hand under your shirt and letting the other hand tug down your pants.

Do not think about how messy and sporadic he would be desperately clinging to you as he ruts you into the mattress, biting and leaving marks up and down your body that he wants to stay forever. He wants to stay in your forever, buried deep inside you as your legs are wrapped around him, eyes rolled back and you're letting the prettiest sounds escape your lips.

The request probably falls out of his mouth before he can even process it, all in one go, can-I-cum-in-you and he can hardly contain himself as he hears you whine back yes, please, Porco, cum inside me.

Do not imagine him letting out a whimper when he cums, letting his head fall in the crook of your neck as he shakes, trying to fill you up as much as possible. Not long afterwards he feels your walls tighten around him as you climax and he continues to thrust into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while feeding his own arousal once more.

He'd beg you to let him fuck you once more, just to fill you up further with his cum, and to make sure he's put a baby in you. His logic is already out the window but his hands find their way to your jaw and he kisses you so gently as he begs to breed you. His body shakes at the idea and he rambles, half out of his mind in post sex haze and delirium as he babbles about putting a baby in you, his baby, making you his and giving you that child that you so desperately want.

And you let him fuck you again, bringing another orgasm out of the both of you that makes him ache. If you feel your neck start to moisten, the cloth of your shirt dampening as he cries into it, you never say anything. You rub his back and kiss his hair as he fucks into you with the last of his strength, even staying buried in you for a moment after.

After he finally pulls out, he stays in between your legs, resting on top of you, holding you so close it's almost like he's melting into you. He might even snake a hand down and coax his cum back into you as it seeps down your thighs.

Do not think about the type of pillow talk you have with Porco afterwards, where he tells you that you should leave Liberio and find somewhere safer. He promises that he'll find you, no matter where you go, and that maybe you two can even run away together. He'll promise that you'll never work another day in your life and that he'll keep you safe, always.

Whatever you do, do not think about the quiet voice that fills the room as Porco looks up at you and asks, "if it's a boy, d'you think we can name him after Marcel?", and do not think about how his eyes light up when you agree. And do not think about waking up as he's preparing to leave in the morning, promising to be there, but then he's not. Do not think about Reiner looking at you with dread as you ask him where Porco is after the next battle in Liberio. Do not imagine waking up alone the days to come.

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-two

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

"How is she?"

I clutched my phone between my shoulder and ear as I carried the box of merch to the table that was set up inside the venue.

"This morning was rough, but we managed."

"Yeah it was like that the other night," I sighed.

Three days ago, after I came home to the lingering smell of gas in the house, I decided that no matter how much it cost I would hire a live-in nurse to stay with my mom while I was on the road. It would only be for one month then once the tour was over, I would quit and find a job that let me be home with her. That night, I woke up in the middle of the night from screaming coming from the front yard and that's where I found my mom only wearing her underwear standing in the middle of the yard. It was cold and her blue lips were trembling, guilt ate away at me because I didn't know how long she was out there. I think she must have been in a catatonic state and woke herself out of it with her screams.

Then the night before I left for tour, I woke up to my mom looming over me in my bed with a bat clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't recognize me and threatened to beat me with the bat if I didn't get out of her house. It took a soft voice and calmness but I coaxed her back into bed, the fear of my life eating away at my insides.

Of course, when I hired the nurse, I was one hundred percent upfront with her about all the bad. The nurse, Lana, never cringed or ran out like I thought she would. She was a few years younger than my mom and worked with Alzheimer's patients for longer than I'd been alive. She was used to patients like this; it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Which is why in one week, I needed to send her first paycheck.

$850.

Every week, for five weeks.

It may have not seemed like a lot but for someone who struggles to pay their bills already, it was a lot. My pay for being a merch girl barely covered it and I didn't get paid until the tour ended. To say I was stressing about how to pay Lana was an understatement.

"She's resting in her room right now." Lana's voice brought me back to our conversation.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. "Is the door locked?"

"Don't worry, dear. I'll take good care of your mother while you're gone. Enjoy the time away."

"Please call me for anything, no matter the time," I stressed while letting the box fall to the floor at my feet.

The sound echoed through the room and I waved off the stares from Davis and Matt, who looked at me with raised brows. Lana and I talked for a few more moments before I reluctantly hung up, knowing I had to get to work. Noah was already upset with me being late getting to the venue, the last thing I needed was to get caught slacking off. It took me a long while to gain the courage to leave my mom, much to the pushing from Lana, and I ended up missing the call time for the bus to leave. I texted Davis an emergency came up and I would take a cab to the first city. It was only two hours away but the hole that burned in my wallet because of how much it cost continued to gnaw away at me.

So instead of dwelling on it, I focused my attention on getting my area set up. The table with our credit card machine, a jar for tips, and then the fence-like wall where I'd hang up every merch that we had while the boxes lined the floor at my feet. I set my area up on the other end of the ballroom where the guys would perform in which meant I could watch their set. It was like that sometimes but other times, I would be placed outside the room and wouldn't get to watch; not that I ever cared too in the past. It was our first show of the tour and I wanted everything to look perfect, not giving a reason for anyone to get upset with me being late.

No one cared, I knew that, but the nagging voice in my brain wouldn't shut up.

"Need any help?"

Turning on my heels, I gave a small smile to Bryan and shook my head. "I'm all finished, thank you though."

He returned my smile with one of his own, his camera slung around his neck. "Mind if I snap a few pics?"

"Not at all," I shook my head. "Just don't get any of me, I haven't showered yet."

Since I was late, I had the cab driver drop me off at the venue, not having time to check into the hotel we would stay at tonight to shower. Our next show was in two days about ten hours away so we weren't in a rush to get there.

Bryan chuckled while snapping a few pictures of the merch area.

"Well, I'm sure you can sneak away for a bit."

I groaned, the thought of a shower making me smile. "Tell Matt if he needs me to text me?"

With a quick wave goodbye, I gathered my things and quietly slipped away from the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the show.

With the two trays full of coffee in my hands, I entered the venue through the back way and made my way towards the ballroom where I knew everyone would be. I was only gone for less than two hours, using that time to get a quick nap and freshen up for tonight. Davis texted me a long order of coffee, almost everyone wanting some sort of caffeine. Thankfully, he also sent me the money to cover paying for it.

I made some small talk as I handed Matt, Bryan, and Davis their coffee. Ruffilo and Folio came by to grab their orders while Jolly, who opted out of coffee with a shake of his head.

"Who's the last coffee for?" I asked.

"Noah," Jolly answered. "He's up on stage if you want to bring it to him."

I'd rather pour this hot coffee over my head than go talk to him.

I haven't seen him since I got the call from the fire department. He over heard the conversation, knowing something happened with my mom, but I didn't know if he would bring it up. Hopefully, he'll take his coffee and go back to whatever he was doing.

"Sure," I forced a smile on my face.

With his coffee in hand, I walked up onto the stage where I saw Noah standing looking over to the empty floor. Hearing me walk up, he peered over his shoulder at me. I did my best to not to gawk at his bare tattooed arms; the muscles tensing under his white tank top.

"Your coffee," I raised it towards him.

As he took it, our fingers brushed and the spark that shot through me made my toes curl. If Noah felt it too, he gave nothing away. With my back turned to him, I was about to walk away when his voice halted me.

"How's your mom?"

That's a loaded question.

"Uh, she's fine," I did my best to have a straight face, not wanting to give anything away. "She locked herself out of the house the other day and tried getting in through a window. A neighbor thought she was breaking in."

I was shocked in myself at how easily I came up with that lie.

"Good," Noah nodded.

Silence fell between us for a few beats and deciding that the conversation was over, I walked back over to the merch stand doing my best to ignore the burning gaze at my back as footsteps followed close. Noah was following me not stopping when we reached the merch stand.

"What are you doing?" I asked when I saw him riffling through one of the open boxes on the floor.

His eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch of me with his static gaze then pulled out a shirt and handed it to me. When I didn't take it, confused on his actions, he let out an annoyed breath.

"Either you change into this shirt or I'll do it for you, angel and I don't think you want others to see you," Noah said nodding to the group of guys a few feet away from us.

My cheeks burned hot as the blush spread everywhere over my skin because of that damn pet name. But I still didn't take the shirt from him, unsure why he wanted me to change.

"You never cared before if I wore one of your shirts during a show," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Be a good girl and go change."

The way something rushed straight to my core shocked me. I never thought being called a good girl would turn me on the way it just had.

Licking my lips, something Noah watched intently, I carefully took the shirt from him and stalked over to the bathrooms to change.

Holy shit.

The ballroom was fucking packed, and I was running around like a madwoman at the merch stand for the last two hours. The openers finished their set, Bad Omens coming on soon, which meant everyone wanted to grab the last bit of merch before. I was so busy I barley had time to stop for two seconds to take a drink of water, something Jolly dropped off undetected by the fans before he went to the green room in the back.

"Here ya go. Enjoy the show tonight!" I gave a smile as I handed two shirts and a sweater to the couple in front of me.

With the few seconds I had between customers, I took a large gulp of water then made work of grabbing a ski mask and a shirt. It went on like this for another twenty minutes until darkness cascaded over the room, the opening sequences of Bad Omens set echoing around us. Finally, having more than two minutes for a break, I sat down on the table and took a deep breath. I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Lana.

She didn't call which meant good news but that didn't stop me from checking in.

Your mom is fine, dear. I'll have her call you in the morning. I think hearing your voice might help her remember you.

After I responded, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and busied myself by cleaning up around my station as Bad Omens played their set. I didn't bother packing up because I knew once the show ended, more people would line up for merch. Before and after the show is the busiest time for merch. Every once in a while, I would watch Noah stomp, dance, and come alive on the stage as he sang or screamed his lyrics. By now he had lost the ski mask and jacket, donning his black cargo pants and black tank top. As much as seeing him in that mask made my pussy clench, seeing him in this outfit practically made me whine with want.

I'd been attracted to guys in the past, hooking up with a few but had nothing serious. Noah, however, was different. I'd never been this infatuated with someone even though he could be a dick to me sometimes.

No, don't think about his dick.

I shook those thoughts out of my head, not wanting to go down that dark tunnel of thoughts, and texted Davis wondering if he could cover me for a few minutes so I could go to the bathroom. Instead of responding, he showed up two minutes later with a smile.

"I'll even give you five minutes for a break," he said.

"My hero," I called out over the sudden screams while rolling my eyes.

Once in the somewhat quietness of the hallway, I stood there for a few seconds taking a deep breath. My ears rang from the screams and loud music so this bit of solace was nice; until I saw the line for the bathroom. Even with Bad Omens playing, it didn't stop people from rushing to the bathroom.

I knew there was one in the green room so turning around; I followed down the long hallway before slipping behind a door at the end. It was way quieter back here, a soft thump of the bass banging against the wall as I walked into the green room, feet halting when I noticed Noah in there alone, throwing back a water bottle in one large gulp. It was at the point of the show where they had a few minutes intermission.

"Who's at the table?" He asked breathless.

Ignoring how his skin glistened under the light, I pursed my lips. "Davis. I just need to use the bathroom but the line for the one in the hallway is insane."

Noah nodded before tossing the bottle in the garbage and I walked passed him towards the bathroom but his fingers grazed over the inside of my wrist, stopping me. I stared down where our skin touched then back up to his face. He said nothing, simply brushed a strand of hair away that fell into my eyes, his fingers lingering on the skin behind my ear. Having him this close to me was enveloping my senses; I could think straight and his scent was deep in my bones. My breath hitched at how close we were and if I didn't know any better, I thought he was going to lean in to kiss me until a persistent knock pounded on the door.

"Noah! Let's go, we're going to miss our mark!" Jolly's voice rang out as he opened the door.

The speed that Noah pushed away from me made my stomach drop. He clearly didn't want to get caught touching me.

Jolly looked between Noah and I. "Am I interrupting-."

"No," Noah shook his head, not letting Jolly finish. "I was grabbing something to drink. Ready?"

As fast as Noah moved away from me, I was alone in the room just staring at the ground below my feet.

"What the fuck was that?" I grumbled, forgetting the whole reason I came in here.

[mj-iza-writer]

Warning: Forced self cannibalism and cannibalism. Wing mutilation and amputation.

Fresh blood trickled down Whumpee's back as they leaned weakly against a wall.

Moving hurt too much, even breathing felt like they were tearing their back apart more.

Their wings were the only thing Whumpee could think about.

The muscles that worked the wings sent shock waves of pain through Whumpee's back.

"It's like they're crying. They feel empty", Whumpee's breath hitched.

Their feathers scattered the floor around them. They had lost quite a few because of stress.... and nervous preening.

They shook as they reached for one of the feathers. Tears flooded their eyes as they cuddled it close.

Whumper carried a plate in and set it down by Whumpee.

"I thought you'd be hungry after losing that much blood", Whumper smirked, "just some leftovers from my dinner."

Whumpee side glanced the plate, "I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on, they taste really good", Whumper chuckled, "I didn't do anything to them. Those are from my plate. They're fresh to. You need something to eat to regain your strength."

Whumpee cautiously reached for the plate and grabbed a small piece of meat.

"Is this chicken?", Whumpee smelt it before taking a bite.

"Well, kind of", Whumper smirked, "it is wings from a bird like creature."

Whumpee stopped mid chew, "what?", they squealed.

"Your wings are delicious, aren't they?", Whumper laughed.

"I'm going to throw up", Whumpee threw the food away from them and leaned forward to puke.

The movements caused their back to tear open the scab that formed on their back. More blood oozed down.

"Why? Why did you cut them off?", Whumpee yelled.

"I was tired of trimming your feathers, and you fighting me. Plus I was hungry", Whumper picked up the plate, "you eat these or I force feed you. Your choice, my hard work making these won't go to waste."

Whumpee looked at the plate, "I can't eat my own wings. Please, don't make me."

"You didn't even take care of them. Look at all the feathers everywhere. You pulled them off yourself", Whumper yelled, "eat."

"You did this. You did all of this", Whumpee yelled back.

Whumper slapped Whumpee before picking up another piece of the meat and forcing Whumpee's mouth open.

Whumpee sobbed as they were forced to eat their own body.

Blood loss was getting to Whumpee. They thought they saw Caretaker opening the door and running to them.

Everything was blurry.

What was being said? Everything sounded like echoes.

"Who's there?", Whumpee jumped suddenly, "please no more, I'll be good. Don't touch me."

"It's Caretaker. Shh, it's Caretaker", someone held down Whumpee's hands, "don't fight. We are here to save you."

"Car-Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered, "Caretaker... you're here for me?"

"Yes, you are safe now", Caretaker stopped and rubbed Whumpee's head to comfort them.

"M-my wings, they cut off my wings", Whumpee cried and tried to bury their head in Caretaker's body, "they cut them and ate them. They forced me to eat them."

Caretaker sat on the ground to comfort Whumpee. They saw some pieces of bone that had been tossed away. Feathers were everywhere... Whumpee's feathers.

"I'm sorry Whumpee. I am truly sorry", Caretaker frowned as their friend shook, "I wish I could have found you sooner."

Emergency responders worked around them.

"Where is Whumper?", Whumpee looked up fearfully.

"They are being arrested", Caretaker soothed, "you are safe now. I finally found you."

"Could you grab some of my feathers so I can keep them", Whumpee asked as they were loaded onto a gurney.

"Of course I can do that", Caretaker comforted, "these nice people are taking you to the hospital. I will be there soon to help you okay."

"Okay", Whumpee nodded, "please don't forget me."

"I won't Whumpee. I promise."

Caretaker gathered several feathers of different sizes and color patterns.

They were shown the leftovers of Whumpee's wings.

"This is a nightmare", Caretaker sighed as they patted the wings gently, "this person is sick minded. They will pay for this."

Caretaker quietly watched Whumpee sleep.

They had had a busy few hours as the doctors had to carefully take care of Whumpee. Anything done wrong to the avian's back could be disastrous, especially if the wings were able to grow back.

Whumpee winced as their eyes opened.

Their eyes darted around the room. Their field of view was limited due to not wanting to move.

"Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm right here", Caretaker quickly knelt beside them, "right here."

"What's going on?", Whumpee frowned.

"You just got out of surgery, you were under for a few hours. You are resting now", Caretaker knelt beside them, "do you have any pain?"

"Not right now", Whumpee frowned, "is it bad?"

"It's not great", Caretaker sighed, "but the doctor believes if your wings do grow back, you shouldn't have any problems."

"Even if they grow back, it will be years before I have them the way they were", Whumpee felt a tear form in their eye, "do you think they'll grow back?", Whumpee whispered.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. An avian having their wings cut at the base doesn't normally happen", Caretaker sighed, "whatever happens I will help you get through or try my best to help."

Caretaker looked down, "I am so sorry I didn't get to you sooner. You were so hard to find and I know that isn't a good excuse. I'm sorry."

Whumpee weakly held out their hand to Caretaker.

Caretaker gently held it.

"You tried your hardest. I appreciate you saving me", Whumpee smiled weakly.

"Here is, uh", Caretaker quickly wiped a tear away, "your feathers you requested, I hope the ones I grabbed are okay."

"Thankyou", Whumpee reached for a feather.

"The leftover parts of your wings and the rest of your feathers are being taken care of by the Avian Society. I didn't know what was best for your wings and feathers, I hope it's okay I trusted them to the leaders", Caretaker sighed.

"That's okay, they will probably destroy them", Whumpee frowned, "I'll receive the cremated remains."

"Are you okay with that?", Caretaker made a concerned look.

"That's normal, because of what we are, most of our bodies are cremated.... unless it's an honored person. Some avians believe those people are gods and follow them", Whumpee sadly rubbed their feather across their face, "we don't want the bodies of our people to be dug up and studied in years to come."

Caretaker nodded, "I guess that makes sense", Caretaker glanced at Whumpee's back, "you should get some more rest."

"I feel like I've been hit by a bus... do you think I can eat yet? My last meal was my wings, and I don't want that to be the only thing in my stomach."

"Let me ask your nurse, and I'll go get you something if they allow it", Caretaker stood.

Caretaker came back into Whumpee's room, but was startled to see a few winged people in Whumpee's room. They figured it was part of the Avain Council.

They all glanced at Caretaker.

"Sorry, I'll come back when you are...", Caretaker knew they weren't exactly welcomed, they put up with Caretaker because of Whumpee.

"Wait, you are Caretaker right. You saved Whumpee?", someone stepped closer.

"Y-yes sir, I was able to find them. I wish I could have found them sooner though", Caretaker frowned as they looked at Whumpee.

"Please come in, you're a hero for saving them. Please eat", another invited.

"Oh this is for Whumpee, they were hungry", Caretaker started to walk to the bed.

"Ah yes, thankyou for feeding them", they stepped back to allow room for Caretaker.

Caretaker knelt beside the bed, after a second of Whumpee struggling Caretaker started to help them eat.

"Thankyou", Whumpee smiled after swallowing a mouthful.

"You're welcome Whumpee. I'd do anything for you", Caretaker smiled.

"The council will leave now and allow you to eat and rest. Please let us know if you need anything. We will happily provide you with anything you need", they started to leave, "we will also return the remains of your wings to you when you return to your home."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou for visiting me."

Caretaker sighed as they got up and sat down.

"I hope that was okay. I wasn't exactly sure what to say to them", Caretaker frowned, "I get nervous around them."

"You did good, I think they will be showing you a lot more respect after this", Whumpee smiled weakly, "I wish I had my wings to cover me up, I'm a little chilly."

"Though your wings are softer, I hope this will suffice", Caretaker pulled up a blanket and covered Whumpee.

"Yes thankyou, and thank...you", Whumpee yawned, "for the food."

"Your welcome Whumpee, get some rest. I won't leave you", Caretaker smiled as Whumpee's eyes slowly closed, "I promise."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems @lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

[featherandferns]

3 maybe a fluffy smut

3. Technically speaking, this is not my fault.

Additional ask by same anon: Okay wait I sent in 3 but that has a pregnancy blurb would be everything like smutty fluff

dude this is pure filth, I am so sorry. But hey! Hope you enjoy lol (I'm going to hell)

content warning: sexual content (fem receiving, p in v technically protected) - MDNI; mentions of emergency contraception; unplanned pregnancy

plan b - prompt 3

Thank God the chateau is empty save for you and JJ, because neither of you are being particularly quiet.

You’re practically screaming as he eats you out, a vibrator held steady on your clit. The asshole that he is, JJ has the audacity to laugh at you. He keeps chuckling against your shaking thigh, pressing kisses into the skin because he can’t keep his mouth off you for even a second. 

“Feel good, baby?”

He already knows the answer to that. You nod against the pillow, forehead damp with sweat. JJ toys with the settings of your vibrator and another moan racks your body. 

“Jesus Christ, why did we wait to get one of these?”

“Fucking do something, JayJ,” is your slurred response.

JJ laughs again, voice deep and husky, before obliging. His tongue slips in and out of your hole, lapping at your wet, parched like he’s been lost at sea. You aimlessly grasp at the ruined sheets, feeling your third climax fast approaching. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasp as it builds. 

JJ leans back, replacing his mouth with his fingers. The cold metal of his rings presses at your entrance and it only amplifies everything. A strange but satisfying feeling builds deep inside of you, unfamiliar. Practically seeing stars, you come with a broken moan of his name. But as you topple over the edge, you soon realise that your body is reacting completely different to how it usually does. You lose all control, succumbing to the pleasure. Finally, as you come back down, you can make out JJ’s astounded laugh. 

“Holy shit,” he mutters. 

Panting, you shift yourself to take him in. You’d squirted. If it weren’t for the expression on his face and the raging hard on in his boxers, you’d be embarrassed. But you can’t find it in yourself to be with the way JJ is looking at you, like he wants to devour you whole. 

“Oops?” you meekly say. 

JJ flips you over frantically, looming on top of you. His lips crash onto yours, consuming your every sense as he sloppily prods his tongue into your mouth. He grabs at your thighs and shoves your legs up so your knees are practically by your head. And then he’s shoving off his boxers and lining himself up. It’s when his dick prods your entrance that you come back to your senses. 

“Wait, wait, wait! Need a condom!”

JJ groans, annoyed and impatient. He rifles through the bedside drawer, his frown growing deeper and deeper with every passing second. 

“Shit, there ain’t any,” he mutters. 

“Please tell me you’re messing with me,” you beg, hands coming to cup at your face. It’s ironic you saying that when he’s the one that’s been patiently holding out for the last hour.

JJ gets to his feet and turfs through the door thoroughly. Nothing. He goes through his wallet, his short pockets, your bag. Nothing. Cursing up a storm, he shoves his way into the bathroom and turns the place upside down. You hear a loud whoop when he returns, holding the packet up like a trophy. You sigh out a laugh, elated with relief. With that, JJ doesn’t waste another second.

He fucks you hard and fast, holding out longer than you expected considering the edging torture he’d undergone whilst praising your body like a temple. It was an unspoken agreement that this part was more for him than for you. Besides, you’re so wound up that it hardly takes anything for you to come again. 

The post-sex bliss is short lived though. After JJ peppers your body with groggy smooches, he moves away with a promise to grab a flannel to help clean you up. But then he stops mid-sentence. You crack open an eye, smiling doppily as you take in your boyfriend. His expression kills the joy. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

JJ stares at you, wide eyed. “The condom split.”

You jolt up in bed. “What!?”

“It must have been an old one or something!”

You scramble for the packet and look at the date. Expiration date: 2017. Your mouth slowly falls open. Wordlessly, you hand it to him. 

“Shit. We gotta get that plan B pill now,” JJ says. 

You agree. Legs wobbly, he helps you dress and the two of you head out to the nearest pharmacy. Morning after pill equipped, you take it and put the whole nightmare to bed as a lesson learnt. Crisis averted. 

Easy to say your victory was far too early. So, four weeks later, as you and JJ stare down at the positive pregnancy test in his bathroom, he sheepishly smiles at you. 

“Technically speaking, this is not my fault.”

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

Once upon a time when employees are being interviewed at SI:

.

.

Interviewer: So what is it like working for Iron Man?

Employee A: Oh! Easy question. I like that. It is an honor, you know. It's what I thought when I joined, and it still is now. But also, I did not expect that SI is a place where we are allowed to prioritize things like family. Like last time, I left my phone on silent at my desk cause I had to go to a meeting. My kid at home was having an emergency and I couldn't be reached. But apparently, Friday, Mr. Stark's AI, keeps track of phone vibrations so she made the report and someone came to notify me. I didn't even know there was a protocol for that. Turns out my daughter was having her period for the first time! And I'm a single father so I had no idea what to do and I was panicking. Next thing I know, an SI nurse came and apparently she was sent by Mr. Stark to walk me through how to help. Apparently, Fri also caught my panic rumblings and triggered 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE PROTOCOL' or something. (*laughing*) The next week, we received an official email introducing a new department called Human Care. They encourage everyone to reach out if we ever find ourselves out of our depths on non company emergency matters.

.

.

Interviewer: How long have you been working here?

Employee B: Eight years, two months, six days and counting.

Interviewer: What's the weirdest thing you've witnessed here?

Employee B: (blanks out)

Employee B (struggling to think): Ahm. Really? Just one? Er- That's a tough one. Maybe that one time they set up a room for everyone to try lifting Thor's hammer? Or wait, no, maybe that time there when flying roombas were everywhere following Mr. Stark and reminding him to eat? Or when a villain came via the vents but before he could come down, Hawkeye accidentally hit him with pepper spray? I don't know, man. Weird things happen a lot. We're used to it by now.

.

.

Interviewer: Do you feel safe working here?

Employee C: Yeah. The avengers live here. But to tell you the truth, I think Happy Hogan and his black tux team of agents scare all the potential bad guys away. I heard rumors that Black Widow personally trains them. Like, I know two of them. Jake, for instance. He's like a giant, and he is intimidating but I saw him crying one time and when I asked him why, he just said Mr. Hogan.

.

.

Interviewer: Which avenger have you met?

Employee D: Oh, I've met two of them. Captain America and Thor. It was odd but one time, they were in the cafeteria and carrying trays of food and I do not mean just one each. Nope. Like, a ton! Like they're feeding an army. But it makes sense. Can you imagine the workout? With bodies like theirs? And the battles they go to? Man, if I have to save the world from aliens, I'll probably need the same nutrition.

.

.

Interviewer: Which avenger is the kindest?

Employee E: Ahm...We all know they're all badass. But kindest, I think Spider-Man. Last Thursday, it was raining, and then Spidey suddenly came all wet and holding a box and I'm gonna quote him now. He said, "Friday, can you please ask Mr. Sam Wilson Falcon sir to come down? The shelter is close and I have a box of puppies and I really, really want to bring them up but Mr. Stark is gonna ban me from the lab again."

Interviewer: Aww. So what happened next? What did they do with the puppies?

Employee E (grinning): Falcon came down, alright. But he came with Iron Man who zoomed past everyone to drag Spidey to the penthouse. I am not sure what I heard but he was muttering about oven toasters and frozen spiderlings? In the end, aome employees volunteered to take care of them. But I believe two of them are at the avengers' floor. We saw Mr. Stark ranting about puppy paw paint marks on his armani.

Interviewer (gasps): Oh my. Was he mad?

Employee E (ends up laughing): Mad? Try grunting fondly? Peter really likes those puppies. Mr. Stark tried to act like he hates them but really, he adores everything about the kid, puppies included. He even had custom made collars with avengers logo made for them.

.

.

Interviewer: I'm sorry? The Winter Soldier was asking directions to where?

Employee F: The Lego Store.

.

.

Interviewer: How would you describe the workload? Do you still get work life balance?

Employee G: I guess it depends. I work in R&D and we're all nerds there. So like, we're typically busy but it's play for us. Some days, we're really cramped with work, mostly when deadlines are nearing or sometimes, we're just really in the zone, we do not want to stop. Peter activated 'NIGHT NIGHT PROTOCOL' for that. Had Fri lock us out of the lab and we had no choice but to go home or nap at the sleep wing. And would you believe? After the product launch, we got emails on mandatory vacation leaves with bonus to spend! Like, who does that? So yeah, it's cool working here.

.

.

And then, there was this:

Interviewer: How does it feel to be the heir of a multibillion dollar top green tech company?

Peter (stares quizzically, dumb-founded): Uhhh-....Look, sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room. I'm not- Maybe you got the wrong questionnaire? I'm just an intern-

Interviewer: Oh. Wait. Is it top secret then? Sorry, I was told of your identity as Mr. Stark's kid so I thought I could ask. But if you're not comfortable-

Peter: WHAT!?? Who said that? They're probably just joking.

Interviewer (chuckles nervously): Ms. Potts did actually.

Peter (freezes): Oh.

Suddenly the door opens and Tony walks in.

Tony: Hey kid, and Ms. Carrenland. How's the interview going? Thought I'd drop by for moral support, you know.

Peter (looks torn, but excuses himself to go to Tony): Uhm, Mr. Stark, can I talk to you for a second? Look, sir, ahm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. The interviewer asks me how it feels to be your heir. Like that's real. I don't-

Tony (has his brows rising to his hairline): Kid. Peter. Breathe.

Peter (groans and sighs embarrassingly): I just didn't want to lie! They mistook me for someone else. It was a misunderstanding!

Tony (smirking): It's really not.

Peter: What?

Tony: Kiddo, I was the one who gave Pep the approval to sign the questions. And really, you've been managing the R&D department and shadowing Pep at management for a year now. You never wondered why I make you do that?

Peter: Oh.

Tony: Yup. Genius child here.

Peter: I just wanted to help. You seem stressed out with the Avengers' work and dealing with the government. I thought I could lend a hand. I didn't- I don't expect you to- I'm not worth that, Mr. Stark.

Tony (scoffs): I beg to differ. Look, I'll be honest with you. Even if you aren't interested in the company, it's still gonna be yours. Look around you, kid. Do you think I let just anyone go around with a free pass at my tower? You have a room at my home. This place is your home, as where as everywhere else that I own. Plus, it's another motivation for you to take care of yourself when you go out as Spidey. Imagine all our employees. They need you, kiddo.

Peter (mumbling softly): I'm just Peter Parker.

Tony (smiles and pats his shoulder): And that is why I chose you.

[thehereticdiaries]

Dead Man Walking: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: A herd is closing in on you. Everything feels hopeless until you get dragged into an alley and brought to a new group.

Warnings: Nothing too bad in this chapter, zombie chase, weapons mentioned

Not beta read we die like men

Series Masterlist

Your lungs burned as your feet pounded across the asphalt. You’ve been sprinting full speed for more than ten minutes and fatigue threatened to trip you up. The herd of the undead drew closer and closer. The smell of rotting flesh only made each breath more difficult. You’d think zombies would be slow, right? They should be shuffling around, brainlessly swiping their arms at the living. Well, they do. Unless they were freshly turned. That classic “zombie walk” didn’t set in until they decomposed a bit. Before they lose muscle mass, they can run just as fast as any living human. 

You dodged the mangled hand that shot out at your shoulder. Your hands burned when you used the corner of a brick building to make a sharp turn down yet another side street. God, these fuckers were everywhere. You screamed when another set of hands succeeded in yanking you into an alleyway. You threw your body weight into the body behind you, hoping to throw them off balance.

“Hey, stop that! I’m trying to help you!” The sound of a living person’s voice shot a spark of hope up your spine. You spun around to face a young man with dark hair and wide eyes. A moment of silence passed between you, but it was quickly broken by the groans of the undead closing in. The guy grabbed your hand and pulled you along the alley. He pushed you forward, towards a ladder on the side of a tall building. A very, very tall building. You hesitated, craning your neck back to try and find the top.

“Up! Up! Up!” Your new companion shouted. He practically lifted you onto the first rung, forcing you to begin climbing. You didn’t dare to look down. Even though zombies can run, they luckily lack the motor control to climb ladders. At the top of the building, two more sets of hands yanked you onto the roof. You crumbled to your hands and knees, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“Who the hell is this, Yeosang?!” You forced yourself to look up at the group that saved you. Four men stood a few feet away from you. 

“Chill out, she’s alone and she needed help getting away from the herd,” the man you now know as Yeosang sighed. 

“It could’ve been a trap, did you even think of that? Send a girl out on her own so some poor bastard saves her.” You cringed at the shorter man’s venomous words. He pointedly glared at you. “Then the rest of her group shows up to rob or kill you.”

“I don’t have a group.” You were still panting, but you needed to defend yourself from this guy. “I’ve been on my own for, like, two weeks now.” Yeosang sends his friend a look that screams ‘told you so���. 

“Right, whatever. You did your one good deed for the day. Let’s go.” Panic swelled in your chest when two of the four turned to walk away.

“No! No, please, don’t leave me alone again.” You scrambled to your feet. “I’m going to go insane without other people.” The man that was lecturing Yeosang turned back to you, looking incredibly unimpressed. “I won’t be dead weight, I can help your group.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I’m a doctor.” The other three all snapped their heads to you.

“You’re really a doctor?” A guy with very large biceps asked, looking skeptically hopeful. 

“Well, almost. I was in my final semester of medical school when shit hit the fan. I was doing my residency at Saint Damian’s.” You explained while fiddling with your fingers. “I was going to be an emergency room physician.”

“Minho, she could be a huge asset. None of us really know what to do with our medical supplies.” Muscle guy failed to whisper to his mean friend. Minho sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The weight of four sets of eyes fell onto his shoulders.

“Fine.” He threw his arms up in defeat. Relief washed over you, and you couldn’t hold back your grin. “But you’re going to explain how you ended up here to the leaders of our group. They’ll decide if you can stay.” 

“Okay, yeah that’s totally fair.” Minho shook his head. He turned and gestured for you to follow. Yeosang took the lead, keeping the group on rooftops for most of the journey back to their home base. On the outskirts of the city, the buildings got shorter and shorter. Skyscrapers and tall apartments gave way to humble one or two story offices and houses. Your group jogged up to one of the offices. The front door was barricaded shut with wood planks and barbed wire, but you could see a tiny slit for a guard to peep through. 

Yeosang led you to the back of the building. You stopped in front of a heavy-looking metal door. Minho stepped forward. He knocked on the door three times, paused, then knocked twice. The door swung open and a very pretty man with blonde hair and freckles appeared. 

“What the hell took you guys so long?!” His voice was much deeper than you anticipated. “Who’s that?”

“Some girl that Yeosang decided to keep.” Minho pushed past the freckled boy, who scrunched his eyebrows at his friend. You glared at his back, annoyed that he spoke of you like you were a dog.

“She was being chased by a herd. Probably would’ve died if I didn’t help,” Yeosang clarified. He nodded towards the door and everyone filed inside. The door thudded shut, and the freckled boy slid several locks into place. It looked like you were in what used to be a maintenance room. Most of the equipment had been removed in favor of shelves of weapons. 

“Minho probably went to grab our group’s leaders,” the muscular man began. “We need to check over your bag and pockets before we let you in.” You nodded, kneeling down to empty the contents of your backpack onto the concrete floor. You had an extra t-shirt, a thin hoodie, socks, underwear, a sports bra, two granola bars, and a flashlight. The pockets of your jeans were empty except for a hair tie.

“What weapons do you have?” The fourth guy from the roof finally spoke up. He hadn’t said a word the whole way back to their base. 

“Hunting knife, .380 with no bullets, pocket knife, and a machete.” You placed each weapon on the floor as you listed them. The quiet man crouched and checked the pistol to make sure it was actually empty. 

“You can put your stuff back in your bag. The weapons stay here while you talk with Chan and Hongjoong.” You shoved your belongings back into your bag while the quiet guy and the muscular guy took your weapons to a desk along the wall. The inside door opened and Minho returned with two more men in tow. 

“Leave your bag in here for now, we’re going to one of the private offices to talk.” A man with an Australian accent instructed. He and the other man Minho brought over started down a hallway. You rushed to follow them, eager to explain yourself and (hopefully) be accepted into this group. They led you into a spacious office. Sunlight peeked through the slats of wood nailed to the windows. The desk was cluttered with loose paper, notebooks, and maps. They pulled an office chair in front of a small couch, which they swiftly occupied. You hesitantly sat on the office chair, suddenly feeling like you had been called to the principal's office. 

“I’m Chan, or Chris, and this is Hongjoong.” Chan gestured between him and his co-leader. 

“Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, can you explain why you were alone, and how you ended up being chased by that herd?” You looked down to your lap. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to answer Chan’s questions. They sat in silence, patiently waiting for you to collect your thoughts.  Shit, this was not going to be fun to talk about.

[hiraya-rawr]

That scene in genius invocation tcg where Diluc enters the cat's tail looking for margaret, but instead meets Kätzlein MC 🐱

// dialogue writings

"You must be Master Diluc! Miss Margaret told me you'd be coming, but I'm afraid there was a family emergency and she had to rush home."

Diluc isn't very familiar with the Kätzlein clan, they're a race that kept to themselves, with very few remaining in Springvale. Diona was probably the only one he knew personally and even she tended to avoid him.

So seeing you —with a pair of fluffy ears on your head and a tail swinging behind you, wearing the cat's tail uniform— he couldn't help but feel distracted, red eyes set on your more unique parts.

"Umm. . . Master Diluc?" You tilt your head, he notices the way your ears fold in, as if consciously shy of his gaze.

He coughs into his hand, "Ah- yes, I see. It can't be helped if Margaret is away. I could always come at another time. Although. . . I must say, I frequent the cat's tail enough but I don't think we've ever met before."

Your ears perk back up in greeting, and he reminds himself not to stare too obviously, "I'm a new employee! Please, call me (Name). I believe you're acquainted with my cousin Diona."

"Diona? Ah, the bartender," He folds his arms in thought, "Your cousin doesn't seem too fond of me."

You chuckle, gesturing to a faraway table where Diona, Sucrose, and the traveler sit playing cards. "That's only because she hates alcohol, and you have a winery. Please don't take it to heart."

"Really? To think I'd meet another bartender like myself," He mumbles under his breath, "Is that the Traveler playing TCG?"

"Oh! You know them as well?"

"We've. . . worked together a few times."

"They've helped me out with a few tasks. Even saved my life once— Please follow me to their table. You came all the way for miss Margaret, the least I could do is offer some drinks. Diona could also mix you something if you wish."

Normally, Diluc would excuse himself -he has more work to do in the Tavern anyway- and he hardly needs a drink (alcohol or not, he practically owns the beverage industry) but seeing you walk to the table -tail swishing behind you- he can't help but be pulled along.

He is quite fond of cats after all.

// wrote this sleepy

[punkshitposts]

genuine question, sorry if it's stupid or something

I'm all for ACAB truly, I mean that

but genuinely... if let's say someone I know goes missing or gets severely injured, what do I do instead of call the cops?

This ISN'T a stupid question at all actually this is a really common thing that comes up on both sides of the pro vs anti cop debate:

there's no good answer i can currently give you, and any answer i CAN give might not be accurate to where you live. AFAIK, in America, you can't call 911 and specifically request they don't send cops (I guess you can, but the operator doesn't have to abide by your request). In America, at least, our system just isn't set up to minimize cop interactions because cops ARE the center of the system. Telling you that you can absolutely in all circumstances get away with not interacting with cops would be irresponsible of me- you don't have to like it, I definitely don't, but until a better one is put in place we'll occasionally have to use the system to get what we want and need.

any potential 911 alternatives are generally situation specific and regional.

so, what can you do instead:

INJURY: assess. is this person already critical?

YES: you are likely going to have to bite the bullet to call 911, unless you live somewhere you can call the emergency direct to EMS.

NO: Can you move them? Can you or someone else transport them? Will they MAKE it to the hospital using these means of transportate? <- if all of these are YES, take them directly to the Emergency Room yourself and forgoe 911. If any are NO: you are likely going to need to call 911 and interact the cops that show up to save injured person.

MISSING PERSON: I don't think I can in good faith tell you that this would be a situation where you could avoid cops. It could both further any potential danger the missing individual is in, and i believe not filing a report could potentially get you yourself into trouble.

what you may be able to do instead: assess. Where SHOULD the person be? Is there any likely alternative places they could be at? can you or someone else check those places? What reason could they have to not be in the place they should be? Is this out-of-character? How long has it been since they were last seen? Do you believe they could be in danger?

Depending on the answers: First: Assuming that to classify someone as a "Missing Person", several people know their missing and not just you. if that's wrong... you should probably go tell other people. Second: I hate to say it. This is a bite-the-bullet and file a report. Third: Call applicable hotlines. Fourth: Organize search efforts. While official channels have now been used for all legal reasons, Do Not Rely On Them.

YOU ARE IN ACTIVE DANGER: Assess. Do you have the time or ability to call someone else to come help you?

YES: Make contact attempt with this person. With key words being "Active Danger", it is might probably be time to bite-the-bullet again after that. Self-Defense laws vary wildly regionally, even city-to-city, so know what yours are ahead of this. If you have to defend yourself and the offender is injured or killed, the 911 call will in most cases help you PROVE self defense.

NO: See above, minus first sentence. For clarity, I'm NOT using"Active Danger" as ye olde hostile interaction or generalized unsafe situations, but more on the lines of "active home invasion" or "person actively Trying to kill me dead right at this very second"

im not going to tell you that you should absolutely never call 911, that's incredibly irresponsible of me. im not going to tell you to let yourself or someone else die to avoid cops. in an ideal world, we would have a completely different system to use wherein "is it safer to call or to not call emergency services?" isn't a question anyone has to ask, but we don't live in that word right now. And, again and as always please feel free to add your own opinions, stances, takes, ect and to ask me to clarify things that don't make sense. This is an incredibly loaded topic that I make no claims to be an expert on, but I did answer you to the best of my current ability. I apologize for any and all clunky/awkward wordings and phrasings , and this post will probably get edited™ sometime in the future.

[birdsnout]

My Family and I Are Facing Eviction:

(I posted about this on Insta, and I've decided to crosspost here. Read below the cut for info on the situation)

TLDR: we are being evicted after just a 1 year and 7 months in our new apartment and exhausted our resources during our last move. So, support of any kind is endlessly appreciated. I'm keeping my commissions open (link in bio along with my Ko-Fi), but the wait time is N/A. My close friend and I will be hosting a Rise themed Kickstarter as another option for those who want to support and get something in return for their kindness.

You may comment or DM questions 💜

(BTW, our landlord owned our old unit too and rumor has it, he’s evicted many other low income tenants like us in the same time span...)

As a low income household, it hits hard. Government aid has kept us afloat as my mom and I attended college full time. It was especially important when our lifestyle had to adapt to my little sister's Mitochondrial disorder diagnosis (it's serious, lifelong and deserves a Google search), and my mother's autoimmune diseases.

We need the aid until my mom settles into a job post graduation and we sort out whether I can be registered as a home aid for my sister. (I went on break from college to help my mom after an invasive shoulder surgery she had in Feb. Financial, college and family health issues are why I’ve extended it.)

Unfortunately, setting up a Crowdfund isn't easy for us. I've researched and it can’t be tied to a bank account in our household. Thankfully, my friend @Mimunaii has offered to help, but because I’d feel wrong not giving back somehow, the Crowdfund will be a Kickstarter. (Regular donations also don’t seem against aid rules).

Reaching out like this on social media is a last resort as I've struggled to find any other options to help with this very serious and stressful situation. Just sharing this post is enough, and no donation is too small for us to be grateful for as we try to save and keep up with bills/costs our aid doesn’t cover. The Kickstarter will be another way to help, but give you something in return for your kindness 💜 (Pet supply wish lists are also linked in my Beacons)

To those who are interested in commissioning me, please be aware that my comm wait times are funky. I thought my break would be calmer compared to 2022 (besides that year's abrupt move, there was also a vet emergency and health scares), but so much has happened in my personal life.

It’s honestly been a struggle mentally and has effected my productivity. However, I am still putting 110% into what I draw for all of my generous clients, and will always do so.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

[books-not-people]

Ok so fic idea please let me know if you use it cause I suck at writing but can't stop thinking about this.

So one of the batfam\bruce find and or save a very abused (no sa please) very scared little girl maybe like 3ish and of course she is adoption bait inky super curly hair bright blue eyes and of course at some point the stabby Robin becomes a either big brother or uncle and I imagine he's like 13 here and this tiny child latches on to him as like top 4 people after parental figure and Alfred of course. And has to stay at the mansion at some point wake up terrified and run to his room crying and when he asked her why she is in his room she just looks at him tears in her eyes and tells him he's safe and that he would protect and just melts his heart because this small vulnerable child chose him of all people as a safe space and so let's her sleep with him for the night and the next time she sees him he shows her a little corner in his room with a little kids tent set up and it's all cozy inside with fairy lights she can turn on so that she can feel safe if he's not there.

And if he teaches her how to stab enemies secretly and she does in fact do that with a little emergency knife he hides in a bear he gives her after someone (possibly joker because ✨drama✨) then that would be great

Duke would help teach the others how to handle her hair best cause he has the only experience with super curly hair and is one of 3 people she let's do her hair the other two are her parent figure and Alfred (for angst I imagine her hair is a trauma point so it makes Duke feel very special)

Dick teaches her gymnastics and how to climb any thing

Cas teaches her sign and dance

She forces Tim to take naps with her cause he's "grumpy looking"

Jason reads to and teaches her to read and helps with panic attacks.

Damien does art with her (and secret self defense training)

Steph helps her learn it's ok to be loud and to tease family that it's safe to be the center of attention

Alfred let's her "help him" cook

And bruce goes full protect mode on her if he is grandfather in this he does regular trips with her for "practice being in public spaces" but is just spoiling her rotten if is father then goes full girl dad mode.

Needs uncle Clark and co with aunty Diane

I like to imagine she loves stars and birds and is named Aurora.

PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[fictionalsownme]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS 💞

SKETCH $10 - COLORED $20 - RENDERED $30

Hi everyone! Unfortunately times have gotten very tough the last few weeks, I'm in the process of moving right now and things will be better once that's done but resources are running very thin until we can get there ;v; I'll explain in more detail under the cut for anyone who wants to know or is curious, but I'm not here to trauma dump or guilt trip or anything 💞 I also want to say that I know times are incredibly tough on everyone right now, so if you can't support, please don't feel bad! 💞

I'm gonna keep it super cut and dry so no matter what you want, if it's a sketch it's $10 total, if you'd like it colored it's $20 total, and if you'd like it rendered it's $30 total. Can be fanart, OC, self insert, anything you want! If you want an extra character we'll just take the base price and multiply it by the number of characters :) prices are negotiable, especially if doing multiple characters!! And if you want to support but can't afford $10, just let me know! Any little bit helps, I'd love to do a little doodle for you or something like that :)

Payment is through venmo, kofi, or paypal! Please DM if you're interested, thanks for reading :)

----

So yeah to kind of explain what's going on, I moved out of my parents place two years ago, and recently we realized that we just can't afford it anymore, so we're moving back in :) we're actually very excited about it, I have a wonderful relationship with my family and it'll be a great opportunity to save money and set up our futures a little bit!

The problem came up when my dog got sick. She's a nine year old pitbull mix, we've had her for five years now. She is the absolute sweetest girl in the whole world, and we found out this last month that she has heart failure. I won't keep you on the edge of your seat, she is doing much much better now. But it took lots of expensive tests, medications, and even an emergency vet visit at 2am to get her back to this point. You can probably imagine that considering we were already running out of money to the point that we have to move back home, these unexpected expenses have completely crippled us financially. We're very lucky that she's doing better, since there were a lot of treatments she would've benefited from that we just couldn't afford.

Now, all we need to do it make it through the next five weeks paying rent and utilities and groceries and stuff-- and we'll be pretty much home free, including being able to afford more treatments for her. So yeah! Commissions will hopefully help us across that finish line. Thanks again for reading :)

ps, this is my dog. her name is Asia :)))

[artiststarme]

Robin has a nut allergy

Just a little snippet of Robin being allergic to nuts with some Steddie on the side. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

It’s a well known fact within the Party that Robin is allergic to nuts. Whether it be because of genetics or her lesbianism that had her allergic to even being in the vicinity of nuts, male or otherwise, she was deathly allergic. And ever since an incident involving carrot cake, walnuts, and an ambulance ride to the ER, everyone knew it. 

She didn’t have an Epipen herself (they were too expensive and she’d rather die before spending $600 on something that might save her life) but Hopper now had three of them on his person at any given time. And Steve had stolen one of his emergency pens to put in the Beemer in case of emergencies. 

Either way, it had been a long time since she’s needed one and a long time since she had any sort of allergic reaction. Robin felt secure with her friends. With them, she didn’t have to check all of the ingredients on food containers or worry about one of them trying to murder her with concealed tree nuts, unlike her parents. Or so she thought. 

Because when she stepped into the Hopper-Byers’ house one afternoon on what was supposed to be her introduction to her first DnD campaign, her throat swelled shut. Within seconds she was choking, her face turning red and her eyes watering. She couldn’t breathe. 

She clawed at her throat in an effort to get air in. She vaguely felt Steve pulling her out of the doorway of his house and distantly heard him yelling at Eddie to grab something from his glove box. Meanwhile, Robin was panicking. She couldn’t get enough air in and her muscles were starting to weaken. She could feel her body fighting itself as it responded to the airborne molecules of nuts in the air. 

Her vision was tunneling and her breaths were labored by the time she felt a sharp stab in her right thigh. Immediately, the swelling in her throat started to lessen and her vision began to clear. Her chest heaved for the air it was deprived of and her ears tuned back into her surroundings. 

“C’mon Eddie, help me pick her up. We have to get her to the hospital. Let’s go!”

“Hey Stevie, calm down. She’s fine now. We’ll get her to the hospital and she’ll be okay. I’ll drive, you just hold onto Robin.”

“What even happened? She was having an allergic reaction?” She thinks that was Jonathan but she couldn’t be sure with her eyes still closed. 

“She’s allergic to nuts. Especially pecans and walnuts,” that darling voice was Will’s. She’s recognize his soft tone anywhere. 

“Oh my god! I was making pecan pie, I forgot! I feel horrible!” That was Joyce, no one else could sound so hysteric. 

The rest of the conversation escaped her as Steve and Eddie set her in the Beemer and took off towards the hospital. She nodded off in Steve’s arms in the back of the car and Eddie drive like a bat out of hell to get her help. 

When she woke up, she was resting on a hospital bed with IVs in her hands and a blanket pulled up to her chest. Night had fallen and Steve and Eddie were still by her bedside, curled up on a single chair with their limbs wrapped around each other. 

Knowing she was safe in the presence of her best friends, she let her eyes slip closed and went back to sleep. There would be apologies made in the morning and hysterical promises made but for now, she would rest in the presence of her capital P platonic soulmate and his boyfriend, her other best friend. Everything else could be dealt with later.

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