#nice to feel my heart does more than pump blood

[slumpsalot]

Car seat Headrest.

[noircheols]

🪓୨୧ — THE MONSTER AND ME . . . ♡

synopsis. scenarios of seventeen and their monster!s/o

genre. fluff, established relationship, horror (ish) prns. they/them cw. NOT PROOF-READ, gore (duh), death, being murdered (decapitation, fire), the ring movie reference, I PERCHANCE HAVE APPROPRIATED WITCHCRAFT IM SO SORRY TO ANY WHO PRACTICE, pet names (sweetheart), toxic relationships, cheating, allusions to suicide, GROSS!!!! in a sappy way

an. happy (belated) halloween!! I COULDNT COMPLETE THIS SMH CUS I HAD MEETINGS FOR A WHOLE WEEK

THE VAMPIRE. ⸺ seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, seungkwan, chan

he thinks it's cute; your love of fashion. how every outfit you manage to coordinate is always so emblematic of your personality and the long life you have led.

"where's this one from?" he asks, gingerly twiddling the cool metal of the necklace dripping just below your chest. he could pretend all he wanted, but 400 years of living didn't fail you when it came to hearing the surge of blood pumping through his heart. and it certainly didn't help that he was slightly blushing. it makes you happy to know that even after three years of living together, you still had that impact on him.

"this one's from 1894!" you moved closer to him, wanting to feel his warm skin against your cold flesh. "long story short this random guy who stole from the nearby village came to my cabin to hide but i kinda-sorta-maybe decapitated him!!"

"that's nice sweetheart WAIT WHAT"

he also thinks it's cute how desperate you are for cuddles. he is more than aware that you love the sound of blood flowing and how much you love being pressed into him, because it meant you could hear it up close. he knows it has nothing to do with you viewing him as your next meal, but the reassurance that he was still alive. he was not gone yet, like all the others in your life. he knows you would never dare to go as far as graze your teeth against his skin. although... he wishes you would. what? he goes crazy for your teeth poking out every single time you smile. why else do you think he puts so much effort into being funny?

the most cute thing about you though? when you pout over pictures. what's the point of mirrors and phones if you can't see if you look good or not? if you can't record the most precious moments of your long life? how are you supposed to know if purple is your colour? but he simply laughs when he hears your complaints, kissing you deeply and telling you "you are everything i could ever have wished for."

THE GHOST. ⸺ jun, wonwoo, minghao, vernon

he knew something was wrong with his house the day he moved in. when the wires were still intact, the TV kept switching from his desired great british bake-off to the deluded brain-rotted show that was dance moms. what? can you blame a guy for wanting to see what they had in store for patisserie week? it only got worse from then on. he knew he had reached the boiling point when he had left for groceries, only for the magnets to be arranged ever so crudely.

TV

sorry, but he didn't have the budget to buy more magnets. in this economy too? whatever, maybe mindlessly scrolling through netflix would give him purpose. as he settled himself into his couch once more, he noticed another set of eyes. big, doe-like eyes, but haunting. his imagination, right?

another click, and he noticed an elbow tear through the screen, slightly distorting the actor's face. he wished he had the strength to get up from his seat, but something about you was pinning him there. you were like a predator staking out its prey, the way you focussed on him. but good lord you were hotter than anybody else alive. maybe everybody else unalive too. he knows now that he doesn't regret sitting there. legs began unravelling themselves as you slithered out the TV screen, crawling on all fours. you stood up as you unfurled your hand towards his chest, he braced himself, hands digging deep into the sofa. his eyes still remained trained on you. was it right to think you are attractive?

"chill out, i'm a ghost." you smoothly responded, trying to hide your smirk from the startled man sitting in front of you. "although... you don't seem too scared of me. what are you? are you also a ghost?" you mused, floating just enough to try and touch his hair. it looks so soft, you mused to yourself. when's the last time you played with somebody's hair again? he yelped a little, shutting his eyes for what was about to happen. to your disappointment, your hand went right through his head.

"so you're the one messing around with my TV- putting on all those trashy 2000s reality shows." he huffed, brushing himself off. weird. you put your hand threw his head but he doesn't feel anything.

"guilty as charged." you sighed, spinning around mid-air. you swirled around the man, fascinated by the newest tenant. "can you blame me for being nostalgic?" you explained how you had moved into this house with your then-boyfriend. things began to go sour and you never knew why. all you knew was that every single time he came home angry and slamming the door behind him, you knew it was time to turn on the TV and melt the world around you. soon enough you realized he was cheating on you, and when you confronted him about it, push came to shove. your last memories were the TV engulfed in flames, and you choking on smoke as the door quietly closed itself. "i used my ghost skills of manipulating electric currents for the first time by turning on the news and realizing that the police ruled my death as a suicide."

you have both developed a symbiotic relationship. he would let you watch your TV shows and re-introduce you to the joys of the mortal world, like reading books and making soup. he didn't banish you from your house, but looked after your every need (its shocking how many things ghosts need), and for the first time, loved.

as a ghost, you could touch whatever was important to you when you were alive. the TV, fruit tarts, and the magnets you would hang your to-do lists on. weirdly enough, you could touch your new roommate. "maybe i'm becoming super important to you." he teased. "would that make you feel weird?" you remarked, as you entwined your fingers among his. "no at all." he hummed, enjoying the way you traced the warm skin of his palm. peering up to look at him, you eagerly asked. "am i important to you, then?"

more than you could ever know.

THE WITCH. ⸺ jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon

as a witch, the burning of incense and candles were familiar spells, intended to expel bad energy. but right now, you need more than to expel bad energy. you needed a guarantee from the universe that the life you lead now would be like this forever. being a witch was isolating, devoting time to a continuous cycle of researching and perfecting non-stop. like being a phd candidate, only minus the glory of being called "doctor." normally, witches have familiars, or "animal friends" as disney would like to call them that substitute the regular human's need for friends. but you didn't have one of those either. it was why it was such a blessing when he had entered your life by accident. all you remember is him asking for your number and the next thing you know you spent your days lounging in his studio apartment, with the coffee table scattered with copies of old esoteric spells from a bygone time.

as you heard the apartment entrance creak open, you knew your beloved was back. likewise, he knew you were doing well. the smell of cinnamon burning was comforting to him because it meant you were at your best condition and continuously experimenting with new spells. it was your way of saying "i've been thinking about you." that you spent hours concocting the best spells to guarantee your and his eternal happiness. it was an absured thought to him, for you to be slaving away when you already had what you wanted.

"i'm sure you don't need to worry, we're just fine without magic." he remarked, flopped onto the couch. he gazed into the kitchen, noticing you submerging a piece of paper in a bottle of water.

"have you ever thought that magic is what's keeping us together? and you're taking it for granted?"

"touche. but i still think-"

you could argue his spells were just as effective too, and that maybe he was a better witch than you could ever be. the way he brews your coffee just right in the morning, like an effective energy potion singing through you and keeping you awake. maybe that coffee also contains a love spell in it, because it makes you think about him non-stop. after all, the only reasonable explanation for the blooming feeling your chest had to be magic. "when will he come home?" "he's gonna be so excited when he figures out i made his favourite!" all those dumb, sappy, romantic thoughts plagued your mind. it's humiliating, but... maybe love is a force that not even the greatest of witches can control. wait- why did you catch him looking at your spells? did he take a peek at your notes?

@noircheols DO NOT RE-POST/COPY/TRANSLATE

[b0nten]

IT’S YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD (THE CRUEL ONE I’VE DRAGGED YOU INTO)

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ kakucho takes you to meet his family. or, the closest thing he has to one, besides the one made by you two.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ FIRST KAKUCHO FIC WOHOOOOO. timestamps may be a little off so yeah. sorry4dat. anon i hope you like it!

today is the day.

straightening your clothes with your palms, your eyes scan your body in the mirror.

“i thought i told you something casual was enough?” a shirtless figure emerges from down the hallway of the apartment, toned muscles flexing as he stretches.

“and i thought i told you you should ditch the blue and go natural, kaku.” you sarcastically answer, turning to him.

he’s got an amused expression painted across his face, eyes softly laid on you and mouth corners sewn into a delicate upward smile.

“so you really hate my aegean blue hair that much?” he jokes again, and, as if teleporting himself, emerges from nothing next to you.

“that’s not true, after all, this aegean blue is the one that charmed me the second time around, but your natural hair color is beautiful, and you know that!” by fake-punching his chest you earn a laugh, “i’ll dress casually when you stop dyeing your hair!”

“alright, alright,” he muses, “are you ready to go?”

“shouldn’t you get dressed first, princess?” you question back, stressing the second word and inspecting his ‘outfit’. “you look handsome like this, gotta give it to you, but i’d like ti think i’m the only woman that gets to see you like this.”

“shoot, you’re right.” he laughs as he grabs the neatly laid out shirt from a nearby chair, “what would i do without you?” he asks, awarding you with a forehead kiss.

“go to work half-naked, apparently..” you fake a disapproving head-shake and make way to the door. “i’m gonna wait in the car, try to not be late, please.” you warn, jingling his car keys in your right hand.

“yes ma’am.” kakucho fakes a military greeting rushing to the bathroom to brush his hair.

✣ ✣ ✣

looking at the high building in front of you, you let out a shaky breath.

“you ready?” kaku asks, blue hair shining in the hot summer sun.

in response, you only hum a weak ‘mhm’, accompanied by a slight nod. you ponder — are you really ready? — you know what kakucho does for a job, he’s a mafioso. not only that, but he’s the no. 3 of japan’s most feared crime syndicate. if every single one of his coworkers is as serious as your kaku is whenever he talks business on the phone (which happens very rarely, as he values his time at home and with you more than drug deals and murders) then you’re screwed, to put it lightly.

“hey, c’mon,” he looks at you, face contorting into a goofy grin, “you really don’t have to be nervous. they look scary but each one is dumber than the other, i promise you. you’ll like them, and they’ll like you.”

his reassuring words tug at your heartstrings a bit, and warm your worry-frozen heart just enough to get it to pump blood again. so, you take a deep breath and nod again, only this time, confidently.

“let’s do this.” with the corner of your eye, you see kakucho smile proudly, before stretching out his arm, allowing you to loop your’s through.

you enter the building: the lobby is cool and and feels so much better than the scorching heat of the outside. the decor is nice, it brings a certain richness to the place, with accents of gold and spanish oak and baroque elements here and there. it’s not flashy, and certainly not like any other japanese office tower interior you’ve seen before.

your heels smack against the macael marble as you allow yourself to admire the interior.

“ran redesigned this whole place when we bought it.” having observed you until now, kakucho chimes in with some fun facts.

“he really has the eye for art.” you add, and watch his eyes light up as he presses the elevator button.

“and he’s quite the snob too. god forbid we touch his montblanc pens or he goes apeshit.”

“oh, kaku…” you can only sigh as he bursts out laughing. “i really don’t know what to expect from you guys.”

he calms down his laughter before entering the lift, “and that’s just the beginning.”

the elevator ride is long, their offices being the second to last floor, which is not so bad as kakucho gets to tell you more about the guys.

“the pink mullet with the piercings is sanzu. he’s quite… eccentric, sometimes.. even uhm..” kaku swallows, uncertain if he should say more, but sure enough that this slip-up may cause you some fright.

“sometimes what, kakucho?” you urge him to continue his sentence.

“well, he can be scary or creepy sometimes. but just sometimes. other than that, he’s a dumbass.” your boyfriend scratches the back of his head, almost relieved. “he’s also no. 2.

as you know, I, your handsome boyfriend is no. 3, while the advisor is takeomi, sanzu’s brother. he really likes trench coats for some reason, so he’ll probably be wearing one today. he’s got a long scar on the right side of his face. oh, yeah, and sanzu also has two scars at the corners of his lips.”

“two down, five more to go, including montblanc guy.” you comment, leaving kakucho somewhat surprised.

“ye— wait, how do you know?” confused, his head darts in your direction.

“by paying attention to your phone calls, during conversations and doing some simple maths.” you reply, sarcastically.

“oh, my beloved einstein.” he kisses the crown of your head gently, “yeah, we have montblanc guy, ran, and his younger brother rindou. ran has short hair, black and pink and rindou also has a mullet, blue and purple. and they both have the tattoo on their necks.

then there’s mochi. well behaved guy, but his beard almost makes him look like an npc or the daiso version of a pimp. he’s the guy with the jumbo dumplings i told you about!”

“oh, that’s mochi! good to know, good to know!” you reply, just as excited as he is.

“and last but not least we have koko. he’s got really long blonde hair and a… unique hairstyle. his tattoo is on his head.

i think that makes them all.”

“are you not forgetting someone?” you quirk up a brow and kakucho mimics you. “maybe… that mikey guy? your leader?” you finally ask, long pauses between each word.

“it’ll be easy for you to see which one’s mikey once he enters the room. but don’t be fooled! he’s tougher than he looks.”

you nod and run through the information one last time before the elevator light pings and the door opens. you step onto a soft carpet, kakucho right next to you, eager to explain more about his workplace.

“we each have our own offices but usually meet in the conference room, where we do most of the work. for separate tasks we use our own spaces, tho. mine is… right here!” the turns left and points to a black door. it’s not hard to see it’s his thanks to the nameplate.

“across from mine is sanzu’s and the one behind us is mikey’s. over here is akashi takeomi, just beside the elevator is mochi, across from his is the conference room, and then there’s kokonoi’s, and the haitanis’ offices towards the end of the hall.”

you would’ve liked to see how the offices looked, being sure kakucho’s was just as neat as he keeps the one at home, interested in the older haitani’s the most, to be frank. you could’ve bet money he also took charge of the floor’s design, this time more simple and elegant than the ground one. muted colors, different textures and simple paintings; the guy really seems to know what he’s doing, maybe he should ditch organized crime and do interior design.

“let’s get this over with.” you turn over to kakucho, who’s just looking around, as if it’s also his first time visiting the place. when he hears you, he smiles, and takes small steps toward the conference room, hand still looped through yours.

you un-loop your arm from his, resting it on his shoulder as he opens the door. he enters, aegean fringe bouncing with every small step. you come in just behind him.

analyzing the room, you really can’t believe these are japan’s most feared:

ran is filing his nails. next to him, legs propped up on the table, is his brother, playing a video game on his phone, occasionally hissing as his eyebrows twitch in frustration.

across from them is sanzu, pink mullet covered by a long white towel, dripping on the wool carpet. just beside him is his older brother, takeomi, wearing a tan trench-coat. he’s reading — you rub your eyes to be sure you’re seeing everything exactly as it is — a guide to becoming a multi-millionaire through bitcoin.

mochi is doing paperwork, and koko — god have fucking mercy on their souls — is reading the same book as takeomi.

“can you close the fucking— ” the younger haitani bangs his fists against the table in a fit of rage, freezing completely when he sees you. “oh my god, it’s the lady whose picture he keeps on his desk! KOKO GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY YOU MOTHERFUCKER HE HAS AN ACTUAL FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!” he grabs his hair while pushing past every chair to get to the mentioned, disturbing ran in the process.

“rindou, try to look whenever you’re running around like a wild boar, i hurt my nail when you pushed me!” his brother accuses, but rindou is long gone.

when he gets to koko, he’s met with a book in his face.

“i’m not giving you jackshit, bitch!”

“come on man, you can’t go back now! we had a bet!” he whines and pleads, but koko is nowhere near turning his decision around.

all of a sudden, rindou kicks koko’s chair, sending him flying into mochi.

the bearded man looks up from his papers distraught, an evil look in his eyes.

“do you even know how long it took me to convince this corn company to deliver corn directly to my house?” he asks, and both shake their heads no. “do you have any idea how long it took me to write this goddamn ‘thank you’ letter?” he asks again, and they both shake their heads again. “THEN ARE YOU TWO GOING TO WRITE IT AGAIN FOR ME BECAUSE YOU JUST MADE ME THROW AWAY A MONTH’S WORTH OF CALLIGRAPHY CLASSES?” this time, they nod.

from the left, sanzu groans.

“CAN YOU FUCKERS STOP SCREAMING? MY HEADACHE IS GETTING WORSE.” he roars, ripping the towel off his face, ready to jump out of his chair. thankfully, takeomi holds him back.

“i think you should all calm down. this is no way to greet the lady.” he says as he closes his book and stands up, bowing to you from afar. “akashi takeomi, bonten’s advisor. nice to meet you.” he says, smiling slightly.

“thank you takeomi.” kakucho starts “this is y/n, my girlfriend, just like rindou has correctly observed.” he shoots the man a judging look, “we’ve been dating for a little shy of, what? nine years now?” he looks at you and smiles, and you give an approving note, signaling he has gotten the time right, “she wanted to meet you all, so i brought her here.”

he steps forward, stretching out his hand toward you. you take it and follow him, nearing the guys on the left side.

“y/n f/l. nice to meet you, everyone. i hope we can get along well. i heard lots about you.” you take your turn and bow, looking at every single one of the guys as you speak.

every one of them continues with the introduction, except for takeomi, since he had already done it while lecturing the guys.

kakucho pulls a chair out from under the table and gestures you to sit. he sits down next to you and surprisingly, the boys are all eager to talk as soon as they get the possibility to.

rindou and koko apologize for their behavior and you just shrug it off with a laugh, reassuring them smilingly that it was funny. you compliment ran’s interior design skills to which he seems very grateful and laugh with mochi, hinting that you know about the jumbo dumpling incident. sanzu compliments your ear piercing setup and asks you about some more jewelry and you offer to go with him shopping sometime, and bond with takeomi over your shared interest of the sengoku period, finding out that he shares the same birthday with his idol, samurai akechi mitsuhide.

everything is going smoothly, when all of a sudden, the door flies open, every one of the executives jumping up in an instant, with you closely behind. when they bow, you do the same, although you didn’t get to see who came in.

when you all pull your heads up again, the short blonde who has entered looks at you puzzled.

“who are you?” he tilts his head to the left, analyzing you carefully.

“mikey, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i brought her to meet everyone!” kakucho explains instantly, and watches him approach you.

“you… you’re the one … that makes those cute bento boxes for kakucho?” he asks, serious look plastered on his face.

unable to control your excitement for your work being recognized, you beam up, hands clasping each other happily: “yes! that’s me!”

as if he wasn’t the ruthless leader he is, mikey’s eyes widen with the childish love for food he’s had forever.

“do you think…,” he starts off shy, unusual for him, “but only if you have the time, do you think you could also make one for me?” the head of bonten inquires, eagerly awaiting your response.

ever so flattered, you smile so hard you can barely see anymore, screeching out in a delighted tone.

“of course!” you’re amped, ready to cook fifty bento boxes because of how happy you are, “do you have any allergies or themes you like?”

as if having been offered a million dollars, mikey answers you enthusiastically, “i don’t like spicy food, and… i like omurice, and if you could add a mini- flag on top, please…” he says, hands meeting behind his back.

“of course!” you affirm, high on the rush of dopamine and continue asking mikey about how he’d like his bento boxes. he himself feels like a kid in a candy store.

the rest of the guys are left dumbfounded, kakucho’s mouth having hit the floor long time ago already.

he picks it back up when mikey interrupts his own conversation.

“i’m sorry to cut it short, y/n-san, but we should start the meeting. we can discuss after it more, if you want!” he apologizes, subliminally saying he wants to talk about these upcoming bentos more with you.

“that’s alright, and of course!” you smile again, “kaku, i’m heading to your office!” and turn around to face your red-faced boyfriend.

“of course, i’ll see you there after we’re done.” he smiles, nodding, assuringly.

“kakucho, does she know where your office is? are you not gonna walk her?” mikey intervenes and before kaku can say anything else, he offers himself to guide you to your lover’s workroom.

“take your places, guys, we’ll start when i come back.” the blonde orders, closing the door behind him.

“looks like boss is gonna steal your girl, kaku.” sanzu teases his subordinate, while ran makes kissy noises and coos ‘kaku’ in the background.

“wait…” rindou interrupts abruptly, “you said you have been dating for nine years? that means.. koko! do the math, please!” he orders.

“you’ve been keeping her secret ever since kanto manji!” the blonde gasps in shock.

“you bastard! you kept her hidden through that— ” mochi is just as angry.

“and tenjiku too?!” kokonoi, having redone his math, is in utter disbelief.

kakucho tries to drown out the sound of the guys accusing him of treachery, thinking about the end of the meeting and heading straight for his office to get you home and spend his time with you, alone.

[dude-ew-gross]

Happy Birthday, Victor

2k words and some change

@void-my-warranty @simplynerdilicious-blog

Thanks for the brainrot. Had a lot of fun writing this. I'm going out for a gyro now.

It was nice to do regular girlfriend things with Victor. It was easy. All you had to do was be there, and what a relief it was not to walk on eggshells for once. The history of your relationships was a list of long, sordid affairs. A few flings here and there that never went beyond the bedroom paired with one miserable marriage and a divorce under your belt, you never thought that you would be where you were now, and where you are now is using your boyfriend as a pillow while he uses you as a blanket. An equal trade, laissez-faire and all that jargon.

You had to admit it was pretty damn nice to have someone around who matches your love of physical affection. The fact that he just so happened to be a walking furnace was merely a coincidental bonus, and if you were being completely honest, cuddling into him was probably your number one source of therapy. Victor never once rejected your advances, much less affection, gladly opening up his enormous arms and adjusting himself to make room for you in his lap to your incoming attack.

There you are, late in the morning on a random sunny Tuesday, so late in fact that most people would be taking their lunch break right now, you are now gleefully loving Victor up on the living room couch, nuzzling into his neck the way he does to you, snuggling into your boyfriend with all your might. You feel him plant a kiss on the top of your head as he hugs you to him just tight enough.

Laying your head on his shirtless chest, you listen to his heart pump his blood through his body with every beat and relax into him with each breath he takes with those strong lungs. You can't help but feel quite pleased when it doesn't take long for him to begin, for lack of a better word, purring. That familiar rumbling starts up and the solid torso underneath you begins to vibrate as he runs a large hand up and down the length of your back, the greatest indicator of “Hell Yeah” there ever was.

“There's that motor,” you giggle, burying your face into a furry pec as if trying to sink into the sensation. His chest hair scratches your face wonderfully. You inhale his scent, taking a deep breath of him and letting it out long and slow. For a moment you two lay there, basking in the warm compassionate touch of a lover. You know you could fall asleep on him right now but something snaps you awake just enough to ask a question that's been drifting in and out of the forefront of your cortex.

“Victor,” you begin. “How old are you?”

“Old.” He answers matter-of-factly. You take it that he didn't take offense to the question on account he didn't immediately stop purring, a good sign.

You continue. “How old?”

He's silent for a moment as he considers what to say. You knew he'd been around the sun a few times more than the average person and had been trying to guess his age for a while but didn't know how to bring it up until now.

“I was a grown man when I saw a light bulb for the first time,” he says.

The absurdity of that statement makes you lift your head up to quirk an eyebrow at him. He's stretched out beneath you, one arm wrapped around you, the other he's using to rest his head. The muscles of the arm that cradles his neck are handsomely flexed under his skin but you are not paying attention to that. He looks completely relaxed at the moment, unbothered. His eyes remain closed and his face doesn't change when the only response you can provide is a blunt “What?” because while you know he's old, there is absolutely no way he's that... old.

Victor makes an affirmative noise, refusing to elaborate any further. Well, if the motor underneath you is still going, that's a good indicator as any that it'd be ok to ask a few more questions. You think for a little bit, attempting to do the math but since the official year of whenever the lightbulb became patented then commercially available escapes you at the moment so instead you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“So you're older than indoor plumbing?”

This makes him chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Cars?”

He nods. “Yep.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Did you ever have to tell time by looking at a sundial?”

His immediate response was to laugh. “Once or twice,” he grins, finding your questions amusing. His fangs are on full display. “Used to get around by horse, if you could afford one. I remember riding in the back of a sled pulled by a single mule led by my father. My mother rode next to him with a shotgun,” he begins to fiddle with a strand of your hair, finding a small knot to loosely work his fingers through. “My brother was next to me. Suddenly, he's pointing up at something in the trees.”

The tangle is smoothed out and he resumes brushing his fingers through your hair with just a little bit of claw, careful not to give you an accidental trim.

“I look up, and there's this barn owl staring down at us. Takes off and flies above us without a sound.”

You blink at him. That was a core memory of his, a little piece of something long ago. Before he figured out he was a mutant, before he and his brother were locked away in that cellar. The paradox in the shape of a man that is Victor Creed who used candlelight and horses as a main resource during most of his formative years, yet he looks like some guy around your age, in the prime of life forever stuck at his physical peak until time itself remembers that he has to age, but that probably won't happen for quite some time. He's older than social security, older than the wars that shaped this continent (probably participated in a few from what you could gather) and was probably older than dirt, and you make an attempt to bite that comment back because he may not find that funny as you, but you say it anyway.

“Heh,” he snorts. “Good way of putting it.”

He probably doesn't even have an official birth certificate if he's as old as you think he is, and he's telling you all this as if his entire backstory is nothing more than just idle chit-chat. You think of how many centuries turned over for him to get here. He sees your expression.

“C'mon, let me hear it,” he goads, a soft smile gracing his face.

You adjust yourself a little to lace your fingers together and tuck your hands under your chin and look him straight in the eye and with all seriousness, you ask “When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”

This makes him pause. The prolonged silence carries on a bit too long for your liking as his brow furrows, as if he never really considered his birthday before, much less celebrated it. His eyes drift away from yours and his eyebrows knit together even tighter as he takes a moment to think about the last time someone thought about his birthday, and that makes your heart ache.

Finally, he opens his mouth. “A while.” He lifts the hand that was in your hair and brings it to his face to scratch his scruffy chin. “Pretty sure the year started with “eighteen.””

You blink. “You're shittin’ me.”

The look he gives you has no indication that he's being facetious in the slightest. He stops scratching his chin and returns to using you as an armrest, draping the long limb around your upper back. His hand comes to rest on your upper arm, running his thumb back and forth on the flesh of your delt.

“Oh my god,” you begin, laying your head back down on his chest. You listen to his heart for three beats. “You really are older than dirt.”

He laughs at this, and you lift up and down with each laugh. It's nice to hear, it's deep and warm, and you can't help but laugh with him.

It takes a while to calm down. “Do you have any idea when it is?” you ask when you finally regain control of your breathing. He hums and you feel his arm constrict you ever so slightly as he squeezes you to him. His other arm comes out from under his head to completely cage you in, not that you mind. You feel him press his lips to your hairline as he takes a deep breath in, chest expanding with the volume of air he could breathe in, then slowly exhales.

“Sometime in the fall,” he finally says. “I don't remember the date.”

You “hmm” at this. “We're totally celebrating your birthday as soon as I see a leaf turn yellow.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nostrils and you feel his chest shudder with a silent laugh and he relaxes underneath you. Time passes and you end up spending the rest of the morning on the sofa with your legs tangled together. You're pretty sure you fall asleep on him once or twice or more, but he doesn't mind. You're pretty sure he falls asleep, too, and you're both content to let the world pass by as you nap together on a sunny weekday afternoon.

….

Months pass, and you decided you weren't kidding when you said you were celebrating his birthday. Seasons change, summer gives way to Autumn, the days are getting shorter and cooler, trees turned from the supple verdant green to the brilliant hues of Fall. Your backyard is a blended masterpiece of reds, oranges, yellows, and on a particularly chilly October day Victor decides to take your dog on a long walk on the trails in the woods behind your home.

You take advantage of his absence, preheating the oven and bust out the ingredients needed for a cake recipe you found in one of your mother's old cookbooks that you think Victor would like. You remember to separate the wet ingredients from the dry until you're ready to combine the two parts in one large bowl. You pour the batter into two equal size round pans, eyeballing the level to make sure they are even, then place them in the hot oven to bake.

You set a timer on your phone and place a kettle to boil on the stove for tea. Soon enough, the kettle is whistling and you pour the boiling water into your favorite mug with your favorite tea. You pocket your device and decide to pass the remaining time by spending it outside, parked in the big rocking chair with a steaming mug of tea keeping your hands warm and a small blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

It's a perfect Autumn day. The sky is overcast, the wind brings a chilly breeze, and the wonderful colors of the trees as the leaves lose their chlorophyll and fall to the ground has you beaming. You sip your tea and think about the present you didn't get your boyfriend. That's been bugging you for a while; what do you get a man who can buy everything in the world and still have spare change? Oh well, you hope the cake and the card you made are enough.

You're still outside and Victor has yet to return when the timer goes off in your pocket. You head back inside, locate your oven mitts, and carefully slide the rack out of the oven and transfer the pans onto a cooling rack. You poke the cake with a toothpick to check that it has baked all the way through and can't help but pump your fist in victory when it comes out clean. You keep the oven on to toast the coconut flakes you bought specifically for this and set to work making the frosting. The kitchen is smelling nice and toasty as you run a knife along the sides of the cakes, separating the layers from their pans. Both layers come out clean when you flip them over (another victory). You apply a liberal coat of frosting to the cooled layers and stack them, then add the toasted coconut to the sides and top.

You take a step back to appreciate your work, pride swelling your chest. You grab the pack of candles you bought specifically for the occasion and stick one right in the center of the cake and retrieve the card you made, placing the envelope right next to the cake. Just in the nick of time, too, because right on cue, the back door opens and Victor returns with your dog. Once inside, he immediately turns his head in your direction to see you standing behind the kitchen island with a freshly baked cake and an envelope, looking expectantly at him. Both eyebrows are raised in pleasant surprise.

You greet him with a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoes, stooping to unleash the dog. “What's this?”

You shrug. “I've decided it's your birthday. Happy Birthday!”

The leash comes off with a click and your dog rushes to greet you, nails clacking on the kitchen floor, tail wagging as he gives your hand excited kisses. You kneel to give him a few scratches and ask how the walk was, and your dog takes this opportunity to lick your face.

Victor huffs. “Little guy decided to take a swim, that's why we were gone so long.” He gives your dog an accusatory look, to which is blissfully ignored as the accused attacks your face with wet kisses. Your dog's fur is completely dry. You stand to get away from the barrage and your dog trots away to go lay on his bed.

You hand the homemade card to Victor. He considers it for a moment before opening it to read the little message you scrawled out for him in what you tried not to look like your regular chicken-scratch. While he's distracted you get two little plates out from the cabinet and the necessary silverware out from the drawer. He doesn't look up until he hears the flick of the lighter you're using to light the single candle on the cake. You return the lighter to your pocket.

You take a deep breath in. “Ha-”

“Don't.” Victor stops you from subjecting him to the mortifying experience of being serenaded with your acapella rendition of “Happy Birthday”. You're thankful for that.

You giggle and he smiles, and he's looking at you with those peculiar eyes of his with so much warmth and love you feel like you could fly.

“Alright,” you say with a grin. “Blow out the candle and make a wish, birthday boy.”

With a roll of his eyes he does as he's told. His lips form an “o” as he lets out a puff of air, immediately snuffing the candle out. A small plume of smoke rolls up to the ceiling and you can't help but clap in delight.

“Yay! Don't tell me what you wished for, it won't come true if you do.” You warn. You cut the cake and serve him a large slice, then you cut yourself a slice and you both decide to take this into the living room. The first bite he takes has him making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. That's the only criticism you receive because he's silent as he eats the rest of his slice. The cake is supple and moist and the frosting melts on your tongue as the rich flavors of vanilla and coconut play together on your palette. You're barely halfway through your portion when he gets up and goes back to the kitchen, returning with another slice of cake.

“This is really good,” he tells you, gesturing with his fork. He takes another bite and voices his delight, making you smile as you take another bite. Excellent. He could eat the entire cake and you would not feel bad about it. It's his cake, he deserves to eat it, too.

When you're both finished he grabs your plate and you're about to protest that people don't wash dishes on their birthday when he sets them aside and stacks them on the coffee table. He turns to you and suddenly you find yourself wrapped up in a strong hug and a sweet tasting kiss is planted on your lips as he pulls you onto his lap. “Thank you,” he whispers, kissing you again.

It's not quite the birthday bash you think he deserves, but you did what you could, and he's enjoying himself and that's all that matters. You cup his face with both hands and kiss him back.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you tell him in between kisses.

[envy-of-the-apple]

OKAY SO. u know. yandere-sin's monstober challenge right?? i knew i wanted to write gojo so i skimmed their list, saw "eldritch", remembered some of our conversations (or just your posts maybe) and. my brain was beamed forbidden awful celestial cosmic horror gojo knowledge form the heavens.

can you think of how profoundly unsexy regular human sex would be to anything that didn't have that kind of biological impulse?

gojo does not have a physical corporeal form so he doesn't really get the whole. insert tab a into slot b. that's utterly inane to him. you could describe sex to him and he's no more interested in it than he would be in ikea assembly instructions.

what he does find sexy is you. YOU. not your corporal form, but the "you" that lives inside it. "you" are what he wants to go inside of, lovemaking after his own fashion, revealing to you his true form on a plane of existence you can't perceive, becoming a part of you in some way

tldr; gojo wants to fuck your brain and cum inside it. he literally wants to fuck your grey matter, but like, cosmically. dw you'll be okay (tm)!

and gojo's true form is like. i once heard a joke about an engineer at a mathematics convention. the engineer was desperately confused at this math problem that started talking about 10-dimensional space.

he's like "how could you possibly visualize 10-dimensional space??"

and a mathematician next to him goes "just imagine n-dimensional space, and let n=10!"

and gojo fucking your brain (erotic) (sexual) (not clickbait) is basically that, him forcing your brain to perceive things your visual cortex literally doesn't know how to model. you SEE space in 10 dimensions now, an extra 7, but your brain doesn't know what you're seeing.

but dw gojo is there to guide you <3 that's what the mindfuck lovemaking is all about! he is fusing with you! moving parts aside to make new room, blazing new pathways, routing in a few extra optic nerves for more eyes to help you out. isn't he so nice??

there's more but this is already intensely long skhfglshdgsdg god why am i inspired for this i need to write my kinktober day 4 AAAAAAAAAA

*sighs and opens a03 to read CGT for the 24438th time*

(tw: death, death, even more death, unsafe sex , dark content, dead dove do not eat, just don’t read this)

ah so the Qu but like way worse

you know that saying “I wanna be in your heart” eldritch horror Gojo would take that literally as he rips open your chest cavity and tries to insert himself inside of you cuz you’re so perfect and amazing and he just needs to find out why he likes you so much!!! eventually he realizes that he finds nothing just a bunch of blood and this thing that would pump the blood around your (now) lifeless body so he just gives up and resurrects you (cuz what is death in front of a being who’ll never experience an end)

I think he would definitely try to change you to be in his image but then he’ll realize that he likes your humanity the most. Two arms two legs two eyes so useless and terrible design but he finds it so pathetically cuuuuuute. When your brain turns to mush from your activities he just restarts you again until eventually you just adapt to the horror fuck.

but like alternatively….would eldritch gojo even have a feeling of fucking?? I don’t think cosmic horror beings need to reproduce right? I think it’s more horrific if he thinks he’s doing YOU a favor by mindfucking you into oblivion cuz you’re human and below him and ya ofc u need this. not understanding that humans don’t rlly claw out eachothers brains to get down.

[8makes1newworld]

Mine Forever

a vampire Seonghwa + human reader scenario for the beginning of Halloween season

I hope a certain someone likes this

warnings: wax play. unprotected sex. touch of degradation. blood drinking.

The candles burned low, casting an intimate and somewhat erotic glow around the room. The vampire studied the body of his subject closely, admiring the curves and angles. The wax and candles were a plaything to him, and so were you. His subject. He couldn't wait to see your reaction as the hot wax dripped onto your skin.

You knew you loved the pain that was dished out, and that was why you stayed all these years with him. Seonghwa knew it too, and that was why he wouldn't let you leave. You were stuck here with him, and he knew it, and that was part of the fun. He could do whatever he wanted with you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You gasped sharply as he poured the hot wax onto your skin, mind reeling with pleasure despite how painful it was.

"Taking it so well, pet~" A sadistic smirk twitched at the vampires lips. His face drew near yours as he watched your face contort with the mixed feelings.

His brow quirked as you whined. "Good. Taking it so well without uttering a single word just like how I trained you~" He smiled devilishly.

Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted the candle over your chest. The sticky warmth running along your nipples was enough to cause your eyes to roll back from the sickening pleasure while terrified of what he would do to you next. Finding it exhilarating just the same.

Seonghwa purred with pleasure as he watched the substance pool on your skin, his grin mocking as he watched you where you lie before him helpless and accessible to every whim that he had for you. Being indulged in all of his dirty ideas as you accepted innocently without question.

"You like being a vampire's toy~? Aren't we both so lucky~? You're all mine to play with." The low sound of his purrs made your hair stand on end even more than you thought was possible.

The vampire admired your curves. Finding you even more beautiful then the goddess venus herself as well as Eros.

His glowing red eyes surveyed your body where you lied down.

Indeed you were everything he wanted and more. Always stirring a feeling inside of him that he had thought was long forgotten to never return again.

With you he could remember he was a man as well as vampire, craving the sweet essence that pumped through your veins as well as the feel of your creamy soft skin that enticed him to touch you.

"Does my little one yearn for a reward?" The vampire smirked as he watched you nod eagerly.

"I wonder what I should give~ Such a gorgeous jewel would need something nice, maybe something that would leave a deep impression on you~" Seonghwa's voice rang in your ears as his fingers touched the wax that had now hardened on your nipples. Giving a tug that showed to whom your body belonged to.

You whine from the lack of sensation. How he loved to hear your sounds. So soft, so innocent and literally gifts stolen from a captured angel.

"Mh will this do, little slave~?" He slots himself between your legs suavely. His crotch pressed flush against your entrance.

You nod frantically as his face draws close to yours. The menacing look of hunger mesmerizing you.

"There, there. Such a cooperative little dumb pet~" His voice was like velvet, caressing your ears with unseen hands.

"You're all mine. No one will ever have you, little darling." His voice was a firm but gentle hiss. He discarded his pants hastily and climbed onto you with the grace of a cat.

Your heart pounds. Everything you ever dreamed of with this being was in this moment when it happened.

You moan in ecstasy when you feel his tip press into your hole. Your body arching as you tried to use your arms to crawl away from the stretch that threatened to fragment the remainder of what sanity you had left.

"How can I resist such a delicious delicacy?" Seonghwa smirks at you while your eyes screw shut. He groans in enjoyment as your wet cunt envelopes him in a heavenly embrace.

Your sweet moan electrifying him and making him feel every inch of his body come to life.

"So beautiful, made just for me the warmth of your sweet embrace of love is such a succulently sweet craving to feed~" His voice tender with hints of lust.

He thrusts into you deeply, getting closer to you to inhale your sweet scent. His eyes holding contact with the big beautiful eyes that he so frequently lost himself in.

You were more than just a plaything to him. But the darkness in his heart prevented him from ever saying so.

Your moans spur him on to thrust harder and your hands tangle in his hair passionately while his fangs mark across your neck. Branding you as his.

"My little slave~" He coos sensually and effortlessly coaxed your walls to flutter with arousal. The heat within yourself growing unbearable as the union of your bodies slapping together grew louder.

"Let it out, my little doll~" He growls against your neck, "No one else will have you."

You wildly writhe beneath him as your climax grows nearer, gripping onto the vampire for dear life as all reasoning threatened to shatter.

He smirks when he feels your throat constrict with a gulp. The temptation growing stronger as his mouth closes in on your delicious, pulsing artery.

You release with a screeching cry that could easily rival a banshee. Though the sound was far more soothing and spine tingling. The sensation of his fangs burying into your neck was more than your body could handle.

Pure ecstasy racked your senses and the only thing that you could think of was him. Sucking the blood that you willingly gave him.

He groans lowly as he empties himself inside of you. The heat lulling you to sleep. As well as the loss of blood.

"Mmnh~" You moan softly and close your eyes. Drifting to sleep as the vampire withdrew his bloody fangs from your body.

The vampire gazed down at you, admiring your sleeping face in the candlelight. Your serene expression reminded him of what he had once lost.

With care, he picked you up and carried you to his chamber. The Victorian-style canopy that accented his bed was what he felt was a fitting place to lay you down beneath.

He silently wished that he was a different being now, haunted by endless memories and regrets. But every moment of seeing your peaceful face and your body lying peacefully in his arms, he couldn't help but dream of what might have been.

"As Van Helsing once said 'there's no use in crying over spilled milk'" Seonghwa whispered to himself as he admired you while you slept peacefully in his arms.

He couldn't fathom how things could have been had he been human, but for now he was content to relish every moment with you.

Whether it was love or something else entirely, you were essential to him. He needed you, and he knew you needed him just as much, maybe even more.

No one could ever desire you like he did, and that made your submission to him all the more special.

He was going to savor every instance he had with you, and try to hold on as long as he possibly could. Then maybe, one day you would be a thirsting creature just like him.

The moonlight filtering in through his gauze curtains made a gorgeous, pearlescent glow.

Your peaceful breathing was hypnotic as he watched your beautiful face.

A dark smile played upon his lips as he admired you.

One day, he would be able to have you in his life forever, and this thought filled him with a sadistic joy that he could hardly bear to imagine.

"You're mine forever, y/n~"

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 9)

A thousand apologies my dearest does and bucks ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

This took much longer than anticipated; I hit a bit of a wall, and time escaped from me. But we're here! We trekkin' on! The story continues \( ᐖ)/

.... And we're actually splitting this into 3 rather than 2 because over 6k later and we're still not done yet so ahaha! Whoopsies~ (´∀｀);

｡°⚠︎°｡ Final note. This is a WARNING that this chapter includes mention of VIOLENCE, GORE, and SEXUAL ASSAULT so please read with caution if this is a trigger for you!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Thank you all for your love and support, honestly ꨄ I've been feeling down lately and re-reading comments has really helped to boost my spirits and push me to keep going! I love y'all dearly ( •̯́ v •̯̀)♡

OK! Without further ado~ SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You venture off on your own to grab Alastor's gift, unaware of the dangers to follow... Word Count: 6.2k Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your feet pounded on the pavement below you and you jogged towards the coffee stall. Your eyes were sharp and alert and your grip on Alastor’s microphone tight. You knew you had to be quick and extra careful now being on your own. But surprisingly enough, you weren’t afraid. Your blood was pumping with adrenaline, and with Alastor’s staff, you felt more powerful than you ever had in your entire life. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

Dodging in between sinners and recognizing landmarks, you were able to find the vendor in question without any problems. You breathed a sigh of relief, coming to a stop in front of the display table and taking a moment to catch your breath. A large, older imp with a white goatee raised an eyebrow at you questioningly from behind the counter. Finally, you stand up straight and give him a quick smile before your eyes flickered over everything he had to offer. 

As much as you enjoyed some of the quirky mugs on display, you knew in your heart what you really wanted. The problem is, you only knew the bare basics about coffee; you had no idea what made a good machine or not. You glanced around at all of the modern tech and felt your shoulders sag. Alastor would hate all of these; you needed something from his time; something more classical. 

“Somethin’ ya looking fer in pa’ticular dollface?”

You lifted your head to the imp across from you. He was leaning against the table with his other hand on his hip, his eyes tired and dull. You gave him a sheepish grin, clearing your throat quickly. 

“Ah, yes please…” you start, “This might sound weird. I’m looking for something from the 30’s that helps to brew coffee.” a thought crossed your mind, and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat, “I… uh. Actually. I don’t even know what they used back then… A kettle? Or some sort of special press…?” Your eyes drifted down awkwardly. Satan’s Ass, you have no idea what the Hell you’re looking for. This guy’s gonna think you’re an idiot. 

To your relief the imp said nothing, but you could tell he was judging you hard. He looked you up and down before simply shrugging off the table and turning on the spot. He began to shuffle through the shelving unit behind him, tea kettles and mugs clattering as he searched. The imp spoke to you over his shoulder.

“Ehhh, I don’ know girlie. I know I had somethin’ a while ago, but might’ve been snatched already.” he shuffled some more, “Antiques like dat are hard ta find, n’ when ya do, dey sell pretty quickly. Humans n’ nostalgia n’ all ‘at.” 

You could feel your fingers fidgeting nervously; you really hoped you didn’t just risk your safety for nothing. The excitement from earlier was beginning to fizzle out with the thought of not being successful. Maybe you could get him a nice mug instead? Or maybe one of those cute, little stirring spoons…

“Well I’ll be blessed th’n damned again…”

You looked up to the seller to see him turn around, a crooked smile on his face as he held what looked like two glass pots connected like an hour-glass. Your eyes widened in amazement at the strange looking contraption. 

“Called a ‘Silex Vacuum Siphon’. D’know what year it’s from, but ya ain't gonna find something more vintage den dis, I can guarantee.”

You tucked Alastor’s mike under your arm as you carefully took the glass contraption in your hands. It was definitely used, and could use a good cleaning. But there were no cracks or chips to be seen, no major damage that could affect its ability to brew. Given it was nearly a century old, it was in fairly good condition.

“It’s perfect.” you breathed, thumb grazing over the glass tenderly as your heart pittered excitedly. Alastor would absolutely love this, you just knew it. You had to get it for him, it was like it was destiny. Your head whipped up to the seller.

“How much?”

Said imp looked you up and down for a moment before his eyes landed near your arm. A sly smile crept up his mouth as his pupils flicked back up to your face.

“How ‘bout that fancy lookin’ cane o’ yours?”

Immediately you placed the siphon back down and clutched the microphone close to your chest, shooting daggers at the creature in front of you. “Absolutely not.”

To your relief, the imp just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. Was woith a shot.” he chuckled, helping your tense shoulders to slowly relax. His eyes darted between you and the siphon, clearly deep in thought before crossing his arms.

“400”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. For fuck sakes, you figured it would be expensive, but this was highway robbery. And you knew very well that he knew that too; he was totally upping the price knowing how desperate you are. And as much as you needed it, you didn’t have enough on you. A thought crossed your mind, something you had observed when you explored the market. With as much confidence as you could muster, you laid your hands flat on the table and leaned in, giving him a very serious look.

“200”

The imp’s smile creaked up to his ears. “375”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and breaking the facade. It was working. Thank God, he seemed like the type who enjoyed a little haggling. If you could just get him down a little more, maybe you could actually pull this off.

“250”

“350”

“300” You finally declare, before quickly adding, “And! you wrap it up nicely for me.” you stare him down, leaning back up and crossing your arms in front of you. “That’s my final offer.”

The background noise of the market droned on as you both glared at each other across the booth. Eventually, the imp’s lips curled up devilishly before giving a sigh and shaking his head.

“Ya drive a hard bargain toots. Deal.” He cocked an eyebrow and reached a clawed hand out. You shook his hand coolly, but it was so hard to contain the excitement bouncing around in your chest. There was something exhilarating about negotiating prices; you could see why some demons got such a high off of coming to markets like these. Of course, this purchase was still going to drain you of all your cash, but it was well worth it. 

While he got to work bubble wrapping the siphon, you basically dumped your purse out and gave him every cent you had. He made sure to cushion the glass carefully and even found an empty box to place it in for double security. You honestly didn’t know how this interaction would've gone; you were initially worried he would’ve robbed you blind or threatened you. But as he handed you the bag with the goods and gave a final nod, you were beyond relieved to find that he actually seemed to be a decent guy. Maybe this market wasn’t completely full of thieves and swindlers like you had thought. 

You were practically skipping down the alley, one hand tight around Alastor’s microphone and the other holding your precious gift (but careful not to swing it around too much). You couldn’t wait to give this to him. You could feel your whole body tingling with anticipation. You really hoped that it did make a good cup of coffee; it would be a shame if it didn’t. Even so, it was such a funky looking thing, at the very least it could make for a cool decoration and hopefully bring back fond memories… You wondered how much of a difference there was between drinking coffee from a coffee machine or a siphon. You’d have to brew a pot with him tomorrow morning and-!

Your daydreaming was instantly snatched away as you were quickly dragged into the darkness of the ally beside you.

You went to scream but a large paw had clamped around your mouth before you could utter a sound. The bag slipped from your grasp and fell to the ground with a clatter, but thankfully you kept your grip on the staff tight. You immediately went to swing your arms, but both your wrists were grabbed, looking like mere toothpicks in the claws of the Hell Hounds that pulled you in. You kicked your feet up in protest as your yells were muffled, but you were no match for the sheer strength these creatures had as they dragged you further into the darkness and away from the crowds. They hauled you backwards until you felt your heels no longer dragged, indicating you had stopped, but you were barely aware of your surroundings. You continue to thrash your shoulders around and kick your feet up, desperately trying to escape like a caged wild animal. 

“Now now, there’s no reason to cause such a ruckus.”

Your eyes flash open and whip to the deep voice ahead of you. Your eyes fall onto a large silhouette leaning against the wall to your right, the brightness of the market ahead of you shading your captor’s full appearance. But as he pushed off and stepped closer, your eyes adjusted and were finally able to take in the finer details. Dripped in a rugged leather jacket and ripped jeans, the wolf looking Hell Hound sauntered towards you. His grin was fierce, and neon-yellow eyes practically glowed in the darkness. You could feel your mouth go dry and your legs turn to jelly. 

Your initial frenzied shock subsiding, you took a moment to look up at your two captors holding you back, One seemed to be a tall, muscular Mastiff with a slobbery snarl, his paws holding your right wrist and shoulder. The other was a Doberman type with cropped ears and sharp eyes, gripping tightly to your mouth and other wrist. You mumble out a pathetic plea and shimmy your shoulders again, trying to get their attention and hope that they take pity, but they pay you no mind, focusing instead on their alpha. 

“Don’t even bother chickie,” the silver dog snarked, making you turn your attention back to him, “We Hounds are very loyal to our pack; they’ll only listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed into angry slits, shooting daggers at the alpha. He merely snickered in reply. 

“You’re probably wondering who we are,” he mused, putting his hands behind his back and calmly pacing in front of you.  “Wondering what we want, why you’re here, ‘yadda yadda ya…” the dog babbled, making a yapping motion with his claws. He turned to you and gave you a cocky grin. “You should know that we don’t usually do this kind of thing… we’re actually nice guys once you get to know us!”

The two dogs behind you chuckle darkly, not at all making you feel reassured. 

“We’re nothing but humble thieves,” the wolf continued, sauntering back over to you, “Steal enough to make a humble living. Only take what we need. Provide for the pack. Today was supposed to be like any other…” 

The alpha’s yellow eyes suddenly grew dull, his smug smile slowly falling to a sneer as he stopped in front of you. The look on his face made a nervous shudder crawl down your spine. 

“... Until that ugly ass, bob-cut bastard stepped in.”

Bob-cut…? What in the Hell is he-

“Tyrion was so sneaky about it too, I was sure the wallet was as good as ours.” the wolf continued, his voice a mix of sorrow and venom. “But then that red-clad fucker saw him and…” you noticed his paws clench into tight fists, his eyes narrowing angrily. 

Red-clad… Oh god… could he mean?

“I saw it with my own eyes. That mad-man butchered him like a pig. Didn’t even give him a chance to apologize or make amends.” His nose was scrunched up in rage before it softened, his eyes holding the tiniest bit of horror, “But I think what was the most haunting was the way that creep smiled the entire time. Almost as if he was enjoying it.”

… God fucking damnit Alastor. 

“You seemed like such an easy target too.” the alpha’s neon eyes flicked up to you. “We didn’t realize what kind of monster you had on a leash.”

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you recalled that wild look in Alastor's eyes earlier, the way his smile seemed sharper... Damnit, you felt so stupid now. How did you not notice? Dear God, how many others had died today by Alastor’s hands? It was clear that this ‘Tyrian’ was trying to steal from you, but did that really warrant death? You felt a twinge of guilt settling in your stomach. 

“So when my boy’s noticed you gallivanting on your own, I couldn’t believe our luck.” the wolf chuckled, leaning in closer until you were face to face, “You seriously made our job so much easier.”

Your cast-down gaze immediately scrunched into one of distrust, feeling your body become on-edge as you focused back on your captor. The wolf smirked at your helplessness, eyeing you up and down before his gaze fell to your left hand. His eyebrows shot up in interest.

“And look at this!” He taunted, leaning back up and reaching for Alastor’s staff, “You even brought us an apology gift! What a nice little girl~”

Your eyes widened in horror, trying to jerk your hand away from the wolf’s grasp. But the Doberman held your wrist tight, making it near impossible for you to do anything as the alpha grabbed hold of the microphone and ripped it from your grasp. You let out a whimper of despair as it left your hand, to which the silver dog’s ears perked, and turned to give you a hungry look.

“Hmmm, what a pretty sound. Almost makes me want to hear it again~”

You could feel your blood boiling at his words, and in a fit of rage, you kick your feet up aggressively. To your dismay, the leader jumped out of the way in time, a joyous laugh escaping his muzzle as he hopped to the side. The two dogs holding you immediately tightened their grip on you, pulling you back and holding you more securely. You huffed through your nose like an angry bull, shooting the wolf a venomous glare as he howled and dusted off his jacket. 

“Wooh! And feisty too. Gotta admit, that just turns me on more~” he grinned, showcasing his sharp fangs and blackened gums. His pupils flicked between his friends, “Do me a favor boys, secure those legs of hers so she doesn’t do that again.” 

Almost immediately, the two henchmen each step on your feet with their large paws, pinning your feet underneath theirs. You try to lift your legs up and away to test your mobility, but sure enough, your feet were locked in place. Panic started to settle now realizing just how much trouble you were in, and instinctively, you jut your shoulders out aggressively to try and once again escape. The wolf snickered at your struggles, slowly moving closer to you. 

“Now originally, we were just going to kill you and leave it at that.” the alpha hummed, eyes slowly grazing your body, “But hey, why stop there? Why waste a perfectly good meal without getting the chance to have a bite~”

Faster than lightning, his free paw came up and slashed at your chest, making you cry out in pure agony underneath the Doberman's paw. White specs blotted your sight as your mind froze in shock. You didn’t have to look to know; you could feel what he had done. Your body felt both cold and hot, from where your dress was torn and your body exposed to the air, and from where you could feel your blood begin to soak into what remained of your dress. You tried so hard to not make too many noises after the wolf's disgusting words, but the way your skin was burning, it was hard not to. Your eyes were beginning to water as you focused your attention back on the leader. Guilt be damned, you didn’t feel a thing for these bastards anymore. You wanted to make them hurt the way they hurt you. 

Outrage helped you find the strength to thrash around again, desperately trying to free your limbs so you could land a punch, a kick, anything. The Hell Hound took a step back to avoid your violent thrashing, chuckling at your display and licking his lips.

“Calm down now Sheila, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It will be over before you know it…” He began his advance again, and you could feel your skin begin to prickle with panic. You continue your thrashing, lifting your legs and pulling at your arms, hoping that something would give way before it was too late.

And by the grace of God above, you felt your left shoe loosen under the paw of the Doberman.

An opportunity.

You spring into action, giving your left knee one final thrust upwards, making your foot pop out of your shoe and free from its confinement. Without even thinking, you slam it down hard into the Doberman’s bottom foot, making sure to dig your heel in deep. The skinny dog howled in agony, his grip on your arm and mouth loosened, giving you the chance you needed to act. As he bends over to grab at his tender paw, you bring your left arm across your chest and swiftly ram your elbow right into his muzzle. The force, along with his now injured foot, is enough to send him toppling over and slamming onto the ground, clutching his now bloodied nose.

Not wasting a precious second, you take the momentum from your left elbow and swing it over to your right, turning your body and socking the Mastif right in the face. He too yelps in pain, letting go of your right arm and freeing your other foot. As he steps back, distracted by the punch you landed, you grab him by the shoulders and lunge your left knee square into his groin. The Hell Hound let out a pathetic squeak as he immediately crumpled to the ground, curling into fetal position as he cradled his tenders.

Two down. One to go.

“Oh you BITCH!”

Right as you turn to face the wolf, his arm was already raised and ready to strike, swiftly bringing it down and backhanding your cheek. You cry out in pain, the sheer strength knocking you off your feet and making you fall harshly on your backside, cracking your head on the pavement. Your bun had come undone, your hair curtaining your glassy gaze as you watched the alpha throw the microphone to the side and stomp towards you. Too dazed by the blow, you felt him come down on you and straddle your hips, bringing his paws down over your throat.

“You think you’re tough shit girlie?” he snarled, his grip on your neck tightening, “Let’s see how tough you are once you beg for mercy.” 

You gasped for air desperately, your hands clawing at his paws and legs kicking out behind him. Your heart was racing anxiously, eyes darting all around you to see if there was anything around that could help you. A shimmer of light catches your eye, and you're just able to turn your head ever so slightly to your right. Your silver hair pin glistened in the light beside you, like a gift from God himself. 

You turn your attention back to the wolf, not wanting to reveal your plan to him. You could feel your vision begin to spot from lack of oxygen, but you stretch out your right arm, desperately trying to reach the pin without making it obvious. You felt the cool metal suddenly come in contact with your fingertips, rolling it closer to you into it finally was tight in your fist. With as much strength as you could muster, you swing your arm up and over, stabbing your assaulter right where his shoulders met his neck.

The wolf immediately howled in pain, rolling to his side and off you to grasp at the makeshift weapon lodged in his neck. You gasped for breath, feeling your blurry vision slowly speckle back as you choked in air. Exhaustion was taking over at this point; your head felt heavy from all the blows, and you could feel your body becoming numb from the blood-loss. Your eyes lazily scanned the area until they locked on Alastor’s mike, and you knew this would be your last chance if you wanted to survive this. 

You force your weak body to move, crawling on the ground as quick as you could towards the staff, scratching your arms and stomach as you went. You whimpered in agony, wishing to just give up and let sleep take over. But Alastor was waiting for you. Your friends back at the hotel were waiting. You couldn’t give up, not after coming this far.

Finally, you manage to stretch out and grab the mike, pulling it close to your mouth and taking a big breath.

“ALAS-!”

A fuzzy hand gripped your ankle and yanked you whole body away, making you cry out in fear as your plea was cut off. Your body scrapped painfully on the ground, dirt and tiny rocks grating against your open wounds. You whip your body around, cane still tight in hand and flinging it over to strike your opponent. But the wolf caught it skillfully in his paw, his pupils constricted and baring his fangs, the fur on his neck now sticky and tainted red. 

“Enough of this shit.”

The hound threw the staff out of your grasp and to the side, straddling you once again, but this time pinning both your arms over your head with one arm and leaning over you dangerously. You sobbed out in agony, your mind desperately telling your body to fight, but too exhausted to react. The alpha sneered down at you, panting and eyes wild with fury.

“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in killing.” he growled, his hot breath hitting your face and making you whine out in dread. “But now…” The dog began to raise his free arm high in the air, his claws extracting with a sharp sound. 

“I’m gonna enjoy watching you bleed out.” 

A sob escaped your throat, tears streaming down your face in thick streams. This was it. This was going to be how you died. You had never actually died in Hell yet, and a part of you was scared. How long until you came back to life? Would you remember any of this… Fuck, would you remember anything at all? You couldn’t imagine a life outside of the hotel, not now. Not without the friends you've made. Certainly not without Alastor. The thought was unbearable. 

His arm came down swiftly, and you cried out in terror, shutting your eyes tight and turning your head, trying to block out the nightmare in front of you. You heard a slash of skin being torn and felt your whole body tense at the sound. You waited for the searing pain, for the blood to gush out from you until you became numb. 

But oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything.

You dared to peek up at the wolf on top of you, a peculiar look on his face as he was frozen in mid swing. His eyelid twitched, mouth partially open before his top half suddenly began to … slide?

“Funny you should say that, I was thinking ₮ⱧɆ ɆӾ₳₵₮ ₴₳₥Ɇ ₮Ⱨł₦₲.” 

Before you could comprehend where the voice came from, the wolf's upper body slid clean off his waist, toppling to the side and beside you on the ground. You slowly sat up, unable to speak as blood began to pool around you, both from his severed chest and his hips and legs. A large black tentacle came up from behind you and grabbed onto one of the wolf's ankles, picking up the severed lower section and flinging it off of your body. You blink in recognition, feeling your  initial shock subside and your chest tighten with hope. You turned around towards your saviour, but had to hold in your gasp at the creature behind you.

Microphone once again tight in his grasp, this demon was as tall as the buildings surrounding you; body barely able to fit between the narrow alleyway as he bent over you. Horns tripled in size and much more resembled deer antlers, black tentacles splayed from his back and writhing around, huge hands and talons sharp, eyes black as night and scarlet pupils in the shape of  dials, and a red ‘x’ on his forehead burning brightly. 

You had never seen Alastor in this state; in his true demonic form. You almost didn’t believe it was him. But his characteristic smile was ever present, your skin feeling that familiar buzz of electricity from his sound waves. You knew just how powerful he was, but to witness him at his full potential, it truly was a sight to behold. 

The giant form was watching you this whole time, dials flickering over your tiny body below him. From your face, to your torn chest and dress, to your bloodied legs, and back up to you. You felt a chill crawl down your spine as you locked eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Any other person would have been terrified looking up at such a creature, but oddly enough, you felt the safest you had ever been. Though you could feel the outrage that was emanating from his very body, you could sense the recognition in his eyes, the kindness deep within those haunting eyes.

The clatter of a loose can snapped you both out of your gaze, Alastor whipping his giant head up and forward, once again sharp and on alert. You heard a whimper of fright and manage to notice the Mastiff tumble out from the shadows and begin to run, yelling like a child and scrambling to get as far away as possible. There was a sudden buzz in the air, the Radio Demon’s smile curling up on his face and drooling blood. A chilling laugh escaped his throat, his jaw practically unhinging like a snake. 

“Well that was not a wise decision on your part…” Alastor growled, his voice deeper and booming as the sound practically shook the ground beneath you. His large body began to move forward, crawling like an animal and the screeching of static ringing out in the air.

“Don’t you know a hunter ⱤɆⱠł₴ⱧɆ₴ ł₦ ₳ ��ØØĐ ₵Ⱨ₳₴Ɇ??”

The Overlord pounds forward, surprisingly fast for his size as the Hell Hound screeches in horror, sprinting further into the darkness of the alleyway ahead. You sat in the pool of the alpha’s blood, still stunned at the events of this afternoon and unable to do anything other than sit and stare. You numbly look over to the severed wolf beside you, his eyes already glossy and deprived of any life.

One.

You look back up to the large lanky demon stomping forward, laughing maniacally as whimpered screams of the Mastiff could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.

Two.

You blinked for a moment, your brain slow to process, but eventually catching up to the current events and what seemed wrong about this picture.

Fuck. 

Where was the Doberman. 

You heard some shuffling from behind a dumpster and whip your head over, your previous question instantly being answered. The skinny dog limped forward, eyes locked on Alastor and unaware of you watching him. He limped forward, his right paw still sore from you stomping on it. But his arm was tucked into his jacket suspiciously, and you felt your eyes narrow dubiously. A soft click snapped from inside the cloth, and the Doberman pulled out what appeared to be a gun, pointing it right at Alastor’s back. 

But there was something about this weapon that made you feel uneasy. The silver finishes that swirled around it, the way it practically radiated light in the darkness. There was something about this weapon that felt unnatural; like it didn’t belong in this world.

It seemed almost… Holy… 

You felt your blood run cold. 

It was all a blur. Rage and fear had taken full control of your body. Whatever exhaustion you had felt earlier was forgotten, whatever aches and pains slowing you down were no longer a hindrance. Completely fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, you scramble forward, bending over and grabbing your hair pin splayed on the ground. You sprint at a speed in which you never had before, screeching out Alastor’s name in warning before leaping onto the hound from behind.

The Doberman shouted in protest, raising his arms in defense and misfiring. The sound ricocheted off the walls, causing the Radio Demon to whip his head around, mouth half full of the Mastiff to a sight truly unbeheld. 

Your legs tight around the Dobermans waist, your one hand gripped at his head while the other continuously stabbed him in the neck. The dog clawed away at your arms desperately, howling out in pain as blood began to gush from his throat. But his screams were nothing compared to yours. Like a wild animal, you shrieked in fury, holding him tight and eyes feral as you punctured his neck again and again. The Doberman’s eyes eventually rolled to the back of his head, falling to his knees and landing face first on the ground. But as you went down with him, you continued your assault, kneeling over him with both arms overhead and slamming the hair pin into his back again and again and again.

Alastor watched from afar, jaw hanging open and the Mastiff’s carcass falling out from between his razor teeth. Never had he imagined he would see a spectacle such as this, certainly not from the likes of you. Not the girl who sang jazz in the kitchen, laughed at his horrendous puns, and slept so peacefully in his presence. He was convinced you were an angel in disguise, too pure for this damned world. 

And yet.

Here you were, stabbing and slashing and drenched in another's blood.

And he got to witness it.

Your furious screams started sputtering into sobs, and Alastor immediately snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately shifted into the shadows, slithering to you at lightning speed and emerging beside you, back to his regular appearance and hesitating a moment before gently placing both his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/n,” he spoke tenderly, “Y/n, darling. It’s ok. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

The sound of his voice made you whip your head up to him, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes were wide with horror making Alastor flinch, unsure how you were going to react. Immediately, you turn your upper body to him, grabbing onto his cheeks with bloodied hands and inspecting his face all over.

“Are you ok??” you sob, eyes panicked and looking all over his body, “you didn’t get hit, did you?? God please tell me you’re ok!”

Alastor blinked back his confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. “Of course I’m alright my dear, whatever do you-!”

A glimmer of light caught his eye, and his gaze was momentarily pulled away from your frantic face. Upon laying eyes over the peculiar weapon, he felt his eyes widen in recognition. There was no mistaking the silver swirls decorating the gun. He had heard rumours of such weapons, not yet having the pleasure of seeing anything of the like in real life. 

He had heard the gunshot earlier, and was worried you were on the other end of the rifle which had triggered him to turn. But he hadn’t considered that the bullet was intended for him. Of course, a regular bullet wound was of no concern to him, he had survived much worse. 

But a bullet from an angelic weapon? 

As he formed the picture in his head, you calling out his name desperately and your sudden panic for his well being, it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together. 

You didn’t kill out of self defense.

You had killed to protect him.

You had killed for him. 

His mind was tumbling with this new wave of information and emotions, something that he didn’t often struggle with. But he felt your hands slip away from his face, causing him to focus back on you. Your head was bent down, hair draping over and covering your face, and soon your shoulders began to tremble. The distinct sound of you crying caused a jolt to shoot up Alastor’s spine, and immediately he lowered a hand under your chin to tilt your head up towards him. Sure enough, big salty tears were streaming down your face. But what caught him the most off guard was the weepy smile spread across your face. 

“Thank God.” you wept, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “I-I was so worried… I couldn’t live with myself if…” your lip trembled as you burst into tears. Whether they were tears of relief or fear, he wasn’t sure, but one thing was for certain.

Alastor had never seen someone so shaken at the thought of him dying.

And that made him feel… something. 

But he didn’t have time to delve into that. Not right now. He had to address this situation before he could dissect his thoughts. He knelt beside you, truly taking in your state of dress and being. Your dress was torn to shreds and blood-soaked, your chest bearing deep claw marks, the side of your head had dried blood spilling from your hairline, cheek swollen, scrapped stomach and legs, and bruises scattered all over your body. 

Rage swelled up in his body. Furious at the hounds who did this to you. Bitter at you for thinking that going off on your own was a good idea. And most of all, outraged at himself for allowing this to have happened in the first place. And when that last thought trickled into his brain, he felt something else slither in his mind to replace that anger. An ancient feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time; ever since he was alive. 

Guilt.

What a terrible emotion. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He never felt regret or sorrow for the actions he took since descending to Hell. Why would he when dealing with demons and creatures alike that he saw as mere obstacles in his way? But as he looked down at your crumpled form, his usual sunny sparrow clipped of her wings and trembling before him. Knowing that he had broken his promise of protecting you… 

His eyebrows furrowed, ears falling flat on his head as his jaw clenched tightly. 

Of course, you weren’t at all aware of the torment currently happening in Alastor’s mind. You were just so damn relieved he was ok, and that you were alive to tell the tale. Your choked sobs were slowly lessening, trying to focus on your breathing and just so freaking grateful to still have oxygen in your lungs. As you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you could feel your eyes growing tired, body slowly relaxing finally knowing the horror was over. The aches and pains were coming back to life, your chest especially burning painfully and your dress sticky with blood. Whatever adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was fastly subsiding, blood loss making your head heavy and limbs numb. 

You didn’t even realize you were falling over until you felt long arms catch you, holding you up so you didn’t hit the ground. You could hear the familiar buzz of Alastor’s radio-like voice speaking to you, but your head was swimming, and your ears weren’t able to pick up what he was saying. You tried to look up at him, but your vision was so blurred, he was just a red fuzz in your eyes. You were so tired; you just wanted to sleep. And Alastor’s body was so warm and familiar, it was like a comforting blanket. You leaned in closer to his body, desperate for that feeling after such a harrowing event.  

You could feel yourself fading fast, and a single thought emerged that made you panic a moment. The bag. The present. You can’t leave that damned thing behind. You reached out a hand and lazily padded at Alastor’s chest, mumbling out a string of words that you prayed made sense. The red blob tilted to the side, and you knew he was confused, but you couldn’t fully explain yourself. He was smart, you knew he would figure it out. And you knew he would take care of you; you were in safe hands now. 

You could finally allow yourself to sleep. 

Your vision was quickly dimming, darkness beginning to surround you until eventually your eyelids fell shut and you blacked out completely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT

My beautiful does and bucks: @saccharine-nectarine @doowopshewop @mysterypotatoink @wendds @crispybelieverworld @raicomme ((WE GOT MORE BEAUTIFUL SINNERS YAY ꨄ ))

[svcredveins]

Fast heartbeat file time. It’s a 5 minute one! 🫀

Honestly, I’m not that proud of this one, and it sucks too because previously I recorded a fast heartbeat file and it sounded a bit better than this; there wasn’t much thudding or creaking either, which in this one, is kind of annoying. The other one unfortunately did not record because of a recording failure (somehow my phone was low on storage) so all of that nice recording went to the bin haha.

I had to turn the volume way, way up to the max for this one in my editing program because of how muffled my stemo was with bad quality. My apologies for that.

Next time, I’m going back to my phone. I love hearing my little lady’s valves pump blood through her chambers, but with the stemo, it was just so muffled that it just was thudding to the motion rather than focusing on what’s going on with my little lady. Also another issue with the stemo is it’s about a half a second behind real time. It threw me off as I get her pounding after doing squats; felt like I had two hearts beating in one body, it was kind of odd.

Anyway, my apologies for the run down on that, but on the bright side, I did to another fast heartbeat file.

Any other good recommendations? I don’t want to say that I’ve wasted my money on it, and I’m probably doing it wrong but I don’t know. No matter what I do it seems to still be muffled, actually, worse than before. To clarify, I had it on the custom filter so I feel as though that doesn’t pick up my little lady as well as the actual heart filter does, maybe that was my issue but I don’t know haha. I tried though despite the creaking and thudding being worse in this one. Ah well. I’ll try again at some point and see if I can get it less muffled and more focused on my little lady, but for now for another fast heartbeat file, I’m using my phone; my valves are even better picked up there, but yeah, I tried anyhow :)

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the lovely @exhuastedpigeon, @hippolotamus @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley and @ladydorian05 Thank you all so much!

I am in a very generous mood today, so for this tidbit Tuesday I am sharing several teases from different wips. Enjoy!

NFL Buck: Athena hits the intercom above the code box, taking note of cameras that swivel slightly towards her way. A deep voice seeped with weariness comes through the speaker, "What can I do for you officer?"

In the back seat of her cruiser, Eddie immediately perks up and cries out, "Buck! She arrested me and I don't like it and I swear those tiny humans put her up to it! But I didn't do it! I swear!"

4+1 Buck is too nice: Eddie is actually contemplating stealing Bobby's nice knife set away from the firehouse. Stolen knives for Eddie's stolen boyfriend. Seems fair. Sort of.

When in reality Eddie more than understands. Athena is working, Bobby is covering for Captain Royce, and trying to get any sort of non-familiar (free) transportation from LAX was a disservice to May.

Kidnapped Mpreg Buck: Eddie grips his tiny newborn daughter tight to his chest. Its too quiet. Buck is silent, no longer screaming in agony. Their baby has gone quiet after her first cries. Doug will never make a sound again, lying dead by the fireplace. He can barely hear Hen muttering under her breath, pumping her fist hard over Buck's chest. Chimney hasn't said a word since announcing the loss of Buck's heart beat, frantically working to try and stop the omega from bleeding out. And Maddie...is slumped against the wall near the bed where her brother lays dying, covered in blood from Doug, herself, and Buck. Catatonic. Quiet. Too quiet.

Parental Chimney w/ Teen Buddie: Chimney does a double take when he see's Eddie standing just a step inside the bay doors. The older teen is wringing his hands together, looking nervous and very lost.

Tapping Hen on the shoulder, he motions towards the kid and Hen nods in understanding. "Yell if you need back-up." She jokes somewhat serious.

Chimney rolls his eyes, "Doubt he's here to cause harm."

Hen shrugs, "Your new to this parenting thing, and so am I, so asking for help won't hurt." She glances over to Eddie, "Just don't be too hard on him. From my understanding, kids been through enough and losing Buck must feel like rock bottom."

Return of sperm donor kid: “Carson, Connor is your dad, okay?  I just-well-um” Buck was floundering to find the right way to explain to a beginning 5th grader how sperm donation works. 

“He’s not my dad! I heard my mom say so!” Connor shouted, anger and frustration starting to take over.

Buck raised his hands up in gentle defense, “Okay. Okay.  Let’s just,” He sighs in frustration, looking upwards.  Buck didn’t really pray, but he did believe in the universe and Eddie would be his entire paycheck that he was cursing it right now. “I’m calling your parents.”

Carson opened his mouth to object, but Buck immediately cut him off, “I am calling your parents, and that includes your dad, the same man who has fed you, clothed you, LOVED you since the day you were born. I am calling them and then we are all going to sit down and talk. Understand?”

Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

[lxvebun]

gentle hearts

request: would like to request megumi/yuji dating a reader that is very emotionally sensitive :) if you don’t feel like writing it that’s perfectly okay! I love your work <3

buns notes: hi angel!!thank you for requesting and for being so patient! I hope you like this as well and I hope you have a good day!

content: Sukuna/Yuuji/Megumi x gender neutral reader. Fluff + comfort. Kissing. Crying. Mentions of violence in Sukuna's part.(not towards reader) blood (sukuna). English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

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dc/dark blogs, k!nk and ed blogs do not interact or forever have bad wifi connection<3

Sukuna

This was disgustingly self indulgent forgive me anon

♡-He really admires your sensitivity. He barely has any :)

♡-It piqued his curiosity that you feel everything so deeply. From love and happiness to grief and sorrow you carry these emotions on your sleeve, even if you don't necessarily want to.

♡-Although it makes him curious, it doesn’t mean he’ll purposefully make you emotional. He hates seeing you cry. He's done terrible things, made scenes that put everyone else whose eyes laid upon it guts twist, without as much as blinking. He doesn't feel anything when his hands are dripping in blood but God seeing you cry feels like his veins are starting to pump poison through his body and his non-existent heart is being ripped out of his chest.

♡-And he had to learn the hard way that storming over to you and harshly demanding what happened. Who made you cry? Give him names. Is not exactly the best way to soothe you.

♡-So when he sees you flinch and more tears start to spill out, his attitude immediately changes. He's the king of curses he knows that he can be terrifying and to some even uttering his name shoots fear into their heart, but you look at him with such a soft love-filled look, so much light and admiration, when he's with you he kinda forgets that he is so scary

♡-Don’t worry tho! every day he’s learning more and more about how to take care of you. So rest assured he’ll be there to wipe the tears away. And give you a big smooch for good measure.

Yuuji

♡-Yuuji is honestly just like you. He feels everything strongly and deeply. At first it didn’t bother him, it was actually one of the traits he liked about himself. When he loved someone, he told them, which would lead to stronger bonds and when he needed to cry, he cried which after a good session would make him feel a lot lighter than he felt before.

♡-Now though, with everything going on in his life, and he quite literally carries the safety of the world on his shoulders, he hates the fact he feels everything so deeply. it's a constant state of happy and depressing emotions because he did meet Fushiguro, and Gojo, and Nobara, and he is sure his grandpa is proud of him, but he's already feeling the dread and fear of leaving this world, his friends behind. He's already afraid of what comes next and with every finger he consumes it just gets stronger. until you, ray of sunshine entered his life as well

♡-It’s nice to meet someone who was also emotionally sensitive, which lead to many late night conversations under the stars or on the floor of his bedroom, which eventually lead to your first kiss<3

♡-Whenever the emotions get to heavy to carry, just being around you overflows him with enough love to drown all these negative feelings out. Truly your presence alone is enough to soothe him and vice versa

♡-Yuuji is only one call away. If you need him he will be there as fast as he can

♡-It’s difficult being a sensitive person in such a cruel world, but as long as you and yuuji have eachother, you know you can survive it.

Megumi

♡-He's quite soft-spoken which is great! His voice is calming and when he's letting those sickeningly sweet words of love and adoration for you fall from his lips, you're basically melting into a little puddle. But, when he's just talking normally, his voice doesn't carry a lot of emotion and neither does his expression. So it is pretty easy, especially for you, to start assuming he's annoyed or bored which with your heightened sensitivity isn’t great and it shoots you into a heavy spiral of overthinking that maybe you have upset him in some way which eventually leads you to  distance yourself

♡-STOP IT

♡-He recharges on YOU. One hour spent with Gojo or Yuuji drains him of his brain cells and energy and the only cure is you. So when you start avoiding him, distancing yourself from him, And he's not receiving his daily kisses and cuddles that he very much needs, the expressions and emotion in his voice become even more sour.

♡-He won’t let it go for long though, megumi is nothing short of persistent. He will give you puppy eyes. Please let him in

♡-And after you do open up to him, expect to be showered in precious little kisses all over your face along with soft whispers thanking you for letting him in and trusting him with this.

♡- Even if he does sound annoyed or he’s feeling a little irritated, you will never be the cause of it.

♡-As much as he tries he can’t really help his expressions and voicetone, BUT he’ll become a lot more physically affectionate to let you know, everything is okay. Even if he is actually annoyed or mad it's not directed towards you. Its towards Gojo ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

Thank you for reading bunnies!<3

[jjungkooksthighs]

Right now, he needs to make her pussy cry for him one more time. And this time, every living creature near and far would hear it.  “You want me to have my way with you, female? Fine. I’ll have you here and now with my fingers fucking your nice little asshole while my cock is still hard inside your tight, wet pussy." His vulgarity has her skin pebbling, the unfamiliar brusque edge to his voice leaving little for the way of her dissent if she had any of it. She's given little time to think once again, because then his index finger that he'd slotted into her asshole is joined by his middle finger and the both of them are curved deliciously against the soft spongy flesh of her walls there when he rams them knuckles deep. That has her whimpering, her lids fluttering as she keeps her sights on her alpha. He hums low, "You will come for me, female. You will show me how much you meant it when you said you just want to impress me, and you will let everyone hear how much you love being all mine.” He curls his fingers in a devastating come-hither motion inside the tight channel of flesh inside her, her back arching in a mouth-watering visual as she pleads for her end, her words starting to slur and string together louder and louder. His lips lift at the edges. She was waiting for his permission. “That’s a good fucking girl, omega.” He pumps his fingers in and out of her once, twice, and then, “that’s a good girl. I knew you could be obedient for me. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To let me take control and take care of everything.” Her pussy tightens around his member in her way of an answer and then he’s hissing at the sensation. “Of course you do, female. You like feeling and knowing that you’re wanted. And fuck, there is no one who desires, who craves for you, more than I.” He thrusts a third finger past the ring of muscles in her ass and the friction of three digits ramming into her is almost enough to send her over the edge. It’s so close she can fucking taste it- He knows. Of course he does. Her body was a gem he’d long since learned all the curves and edges to. Making her glint and gleam in her afterglow, in her every happiness, brought him no greater satisfaction. “Let go one more time for me, my mate. My one and my only. Scream, bite, or quiver all you need. This belongs only to me. You belong only to me.”

Her walls close faster and tighter around him, his member throbbing once again within her, and that last command of his is all that she needs to drive her over that frustratingly close edge. She feels something within her snap, the rush of endorphins and adrenalin hits her like a fucking truck, her limbs a flailing mess beneath her as her throat goes dry from how loud she's been. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her head falls back, loud, loud whimpers of his name leaving her lips like a prayer. Her eyes threaten to close as she draws in long, sharp breaths of air, greedily trying to regain composure as the heady, heavy, and downright overwhelmingly pleasurable wave floods her mind, washing away all her thoughts, her mind blank. Her alpha beneath her seems only the slightest bit pleased, and yet, that comforts her more than anything ever has. The small little 'good girl' that leaves his lips doesn't escape her either, the word squeezing at her heart, tears escaping the corner of her eyes, trailing down the side of her face. Her back slumps, and it takes all of her strength to stop herself from drifting away right there, her body's weight all on him now as she sits there with his cock still nestled in her snug walls, small whimpers leaving her as she slowly feels herself being brought back down from that high he pushed her to. Her lidded eyes feel heavy, and her chest rises and falls, her little heart beating rapidly against the walls of her chest, the sound loud and clear in her own ears as blood rushes to her ears, her face no doubt red as a cherry now. She stays still for a moment, letting her tired form aimlessly cope with the demanding situation, her mind growing fuzzy as her vision zeroes in on him. His eyes are fixated on her, seemingly studying her, his irises blown wide, his gaze still stern. But, she knows she's done well from the small smirk that pulls up on his lips, and she can't help but grow shy from the attention. "i.." she stutters, unable to handle the heat of the situation, far too flustered and excited for her own good. She whispers, voice soft and breathless as she attempts to please him more now. "t-thankyou.. sir."

He’s never seen anything quite so beautiful in all his life.

The way she tips her head back when she finally comes and the vision of her with her lips parting even wider in an ‘o’ as her eyes fall closed…The way her spine arcs just the slightest bit more as her pussy squeezes and clamps down onto him… it is simply fucking divine. It’s something that he’s sure he must be blessed to witness, because the sight of her shaking, trembling body while she helplessly creams all over him is nothing that could belong to the mundanity of mortality.

She’s coming harder than she has ever come before, and if the visuals of her with her back to him-seated on his cock like it’s her fucking throne- weren’t enough to let him know, the sounds and sensations do.

Her breaths come quick and short, as if the pleasure flooding her body is all consuming and drowning her in her rapture. As if the pleasure is so good that her mind can’t keep up with the rest of her body.

Every second that her pussy flutters and clenches around him is one she spends panting loudly between sobs, the tears that fall from her eyes ones of relief after having been at his mercy for so long.

“So beautiful,” he fucks her with his fingers through her final orgasm, and only when her cunt has stopped spasming and her juices have ceased to squirt all over his palm and cock does he ease them out of her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you needy, pretty girl.”

Color fills those cheeks of hers, and then she’s thanking him again, her voice now somewhat broken from all the screaming, crying, and moaning she’d been doing.

He’d need to give her some water for that.

But clearly that could wait, because as soon as his fingers depart from her soddened depths, her lids begin to lower as the fatigue and weakness from their illicit activities quickly drag her under.

He’s gentle when he grabs her sides, easily lifting her up and off of his now much more manageable size now that his cock was no longer swelling into the massive knot it had become inside her.

He hisses as does, his female gritting her teeth from sensitivity in the action.

That has satisfaction rushing to his head, and then he’s uttering, “You’re welcome, by the way, my love.”

He sits up, gathering her in his arms before he stands to walk them toward their chambers. All the while, he looks only at her, assessing her for any damage beyond the love bites and bruises he’d left.

He glances back only once, and seeking his attentive gaze, her sight follows his to the open window they’d left by the cushion that he’d taken her on.

The female who had been hiding behind the biggest and thickest tree had slipped back into the shadows and had vanished.

Good.

She’d no doubt heard and seen that his affections rested with the female who had begun to drift to sleep in his arms.

“Rest now, my love.” He peers back down at her, the silver that had been flecking his irises is burned away by the golden color he knew his lover loved to bask in. He tucks some tendrils of dark hair behind her ear as he says, “You have earned it.”

[spacedoutman]

【𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 | 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙪】

(𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩)

Description: The world crumbled but their love stayed intact. Caught in a firefight over food, Paul's been shot. Does Ace have any hope of pulling him through or pulling through this at all?

♥ Paul Stanley x Ace Frehley

Note: The fuck? I actually have to copy these little formats from each of my fics and something stuck from Pygmalion I thought I fixed. I KNEW something was off sksk (it was also super late when I did this haha))

Warnings: Blood/Grief/Death

𝙖𝙤3

Paul slammed against the wall. The ground thundered like a volcano about to erupt. Gunshots jetted, cutting down overgrown vines like a saw. Paul’s heart drug a muffled beat. He took a shaky breath of the thick musty air through clenched teeth.

“Is e-everyone alright?”

Paul fought his head. It blurred. The faces around him, down, up or rushing across the decayed floor smeared. His world swayed like a tree in the wind. Frantic shouting clashed in his ear. Ace drug himself up by a string, staggering forward and hitting the wall beside someone else. Paul’s hand went white around the pistol—the other red.

He clenched his stomach. His blood pumped. It felt like he’d stuck his hand in a void. An even stream of blinding light bleached the building through the massive gap in the wall, somehow climbing over the buildings collapsed like dominoes and rubble-conquered streets. Ace tossed his arm out pistol in hand. He shot off a few rounds into the distant rubble or vivid blue sky outside.

Paul’s legs wobbled. Seeing something other than a bird or two after all these years would be nice.

“We’ve got to surrender.” A horrified voice grated Paul’s ears.

“T-This isn’t the end.”

Paul choked out. Paul.. choked out? His eyes shot wide. Ungodly wide. His breaths sped up. “We’ve got to eat.. what we came for..” Paul groaned. His legs turned to jello. He stumbled back. Every pinch of air in his lungs fled. He hit the rocks. Glass crunched. Everything waved in and out. Red burnt his eyelids. Singing birds soothed his mind like a lullaby before-

“Paul!”

A polished suburban house, surrounded by an ocean of green bathed by soft sunlight and a little American flag off the porch flashed. There was a grill on the lawn.

Paul smiled. His heart tried to flutter. His chest and throat loosened. A little more air slipped into his lungs. He curled into a tight ball. Two warm hands swept him up. Black took over his vision. Yelling boomed. Paul shut his eyes as tightly as possible. Echoes of pain crept through him distantly. Cool seeped through his bomber jacket.

Ace held it together.

“Y-You’re gonna’ be alright, Paul..” Pain grasped Ace’s shuddering voice like a lover.

“I’m.. I’m not. I know it.” His hand crawled onto Ace’s. “If those bombs go off.. all ten stories are going to collapse. You.. You can’t carry me out.” A bit of certainty spiked.

“Please.” Ace’s eyes shot wide, he quickly shook his head. “Don’t say that..”

“You can’t.. I’m dead.”

Ace grabbed Paul’s hand. Some feeling like vibrant colors exploded. Paul couldn’t help but to grin. “I love you.” He whispered, laying his head on Ace’s chest. The chaos around them died. Ace hugged him tightly, pulling him as close as possible. Tears poured down their faces like a river, soaking their shoulders.

Ace clutched him. He swallowed sobs. Paul took a deep breath, savoring the gentle homey smell clinging to Ace’s leather jacket. Iron coated his tongue.

“I’m not letting you go.” Ace forced strength into his voice. “I can’t.”

“But you gotta’ live..” Paul faded into murmurs.

“I swear to god—we’ll get out, I swear..!”

“You will.”

The suburban house flashed. Ace relaxed on the stairs, dressed in something clean with a grin shining on his bright face. Another person slammed into the heavy duty crates. Paul sunk into Ace. Ace shut his eyes as tight as he could. Paul’s limbs loosened in milliseconds. His smile spread into a grin.

“I always imagined us with kids..” Paul’s features softened. A little light sparked in his voice. “.. How many would you want?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“It’s gonna’ be okay, Ace.. you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Don’t talk like that. We..we still have a future.”

“Maybe in another life.”

“Paul?”

“Think of it..”

“Paul. We have people in the future waiting for us—w-who don’t even know our names!”

…

“Paul?”

[deadly-diminuendo]

WIP Wednesday

It is now technically Wednesday in my timezone and so WIP Wednesday it is! Sharing a nice chunk of my upcoming tailor Astarion x fem!reader Tav lovers-to-friends-to-lovers two-shot (maaayyybe a short extra epilogue as a chapter 3?) I included the intro on this post, so this one has been a long time coming! Snippet under the cut:

“Well, darling, let’s get you out of those clothes and into that dress, hm?” Again with the flirting. You almost let your imagination run away with you, but of course he gives you your privacy. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” You peel off each layer piece by piece, trying not to think about the fact that your former lover is on the other side of this curtain, trying not to remember the slow and sensual ways he used to strip you bare. But you do think about it. You do remember. You are just friends now, you remind yourself. No more. And no less, you hope. To be without him all this time has left a hollow in your heart. You want to fill its empty spaces with his presence. You want him to be part of your life again. So why does being here only make your heart ache harder? And why are you still so godsdamned nervous? You sigh and slip into your gown, admiring its a-line silhouette and its delightful shade of purple. Not quite the right fit, but that is why you are here after all. Astarion can surely fix that for you. He does work wonders with his hands. Hands that you now realize will have to tie up the back of your dress because there is no way you’ll be able to accomplish that by yourself. Hugging the loose garment tight against your chest, you call for help. “Astarion?” “Yes, dear? Don’t tell me you’ve managed to fall into peril right here in my dressing room. You do seem to have a knack for finding trouble wherever you go.” “Just… come in, please.” He pushes through the curtain and you are instantly and acutely aware of just how snug this little space is. “Ah, you need to be tied up, I see.” Of course he would choose to phrase it like that. Now you are thoroughly convinced he is thoroughly enjoying your embarrassment. He always did like to make you squirm. In more ways than one, the Astarion in your head adds. Ugh. You feel a fleeting sense of relief as you spin around, but the mirror betrays you, putting your mortified expression on full display while the look on his face remains a mystery to you. The chuckle you then hear at least helps you picture his smirk. He takes his time with you. Like he always did. Words he once said echo in your mind. A treat like you deserves to be savoured. Does it tempt him still to be so close to you? To sense your blood pumping through your veins? To see your neck so deliciously exposed? You ponder and you reminisce and you catch yourself tilting your head to one side. It seems the tempted one is you. You wonder if he noticed. He may be ‘tying you up’ as he so eloquently put it, but you feel more like he is undressing you. Like he is uncovering you bit by bit, inch by inch, piece by piece. Like he could reach into your mind and read your most intimate thoughts even though the tadpoles are long gone. “There we are,” you finally hear him say, snapping you back to reality. You pause in front of the mirror together and you wonder what it isn’t telling you. What he thinks when he looks upon you.

I will post a link here to the first chapter when it is up on AO3, and the complete text will also be posted here in full when the fic is done. I'm still a bit shy to tag anyone, but I am open to being tagged for wip sharing and tagging others who might be interested. And of course let me know if you want to be tagged when this fic is complete!

(P.S. I did also recently post a quick one-shot in the mean time!)

[milkymoon2483]

Hidden Magnets

Push & Pull - Episode 3 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Previous episode | Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: Frank pulls you closer just to push you away again. Not able to contain your feelings for Frank you finally speak up, only to be met with more rejection. However, when you find yourself needing him the most he finally shows up for you.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), Mentions of alcoholism, drinking, smoking, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, fat shaming, sexual assault, violence, blood, and FINALLY some SMUT. Sensitive folks this is not for you. WC: ~5300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

Hidden Magnets

Frank sat at the window for longer than he’d like to admit, keeping his eyes on the light blue house across the street. He preferred to look at it as an act of protection rather than voyeurism, but he wasn’t sure you’d agree.

It’s been two days since you last spoke, since he almost kissed you, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to text.

You didn’t text either, perhaps shaken by what almost occurred, perhaps burned by the sting of his rejection. He saw it in your eyes, the disappointment, the hurt he caused you. Yet he still watched, convinced that this was for the better, that this was what’s right. He could make out your red sweater as you moved around the house,  a smear of color behind the glass and sheer curtains, like a koi swimming endlessly in an aquarium.

He was still being pulled in your direction, and watching from a safe distance seemed harmless enough.

Come noon you were making little trips outside, carrying some boxes and trash bags. wrapped in your unzipped puffy coat, your face pale and somber. 

When he heard the familiar sound of a car ignition refusing to start, he bit back smile.  An excuse. A perfect reason to see you, no false pretenses. Just as suspected you showed up less than two minutes later.

You were hardly surprised that your dad’s old Honda refused to start, the battery had probably died over the span of the past two weeks. At least you hoped that the little light indication was correct and it was nothing more serious. You didn’t have the money for anything more serious.

You hated to have to do this, but what choice did you have? You set your pride aside in favor of being pragmatic, because of course he'd help. You’d be nice and normal about it and he would come to your rescue, like he always does. 

With a heavy heart you crossed the street towards the humble dark gray one-story. 

Frank opened before you could finish knocking. 

“Hey Han, what’s up? ” He greeted you with a hushed tone. The tiniest bit of stubble showed on his otherwise clean-shaven jaw, he was wearing a gray melange pullover hoodie and cargo pants. You could smell the whiff of fresh laundry, battling the need to nuzzle against his chest. 

“Hi, Frank, um..the car won’t start, I think it’s the battery. Can you maybe take a look?” 

“Sure, come on” He smiled briefly, pulling on his boots and heading out after you.

What followed was a display of masculinity the likes of which you haven’t witnessed before. You were gawking yet again as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing those toned forearms, and popped the hood of the car open, furrowing his brows in concentration. He proceeded to replace the car battery with a spare one from his garage. He checked the oil and the brakes, filled up the windshield wiper fluid, and even got an electric pump to top off the tires. 

There was a self-assuredness about his movements, each one deft and precise.

It was an even more potent aphrodisiac than seeing him shirtless at the pool all those years ago. Each accurately confident action only served to remind you of other things he must know how to do accurately and confidently.  You couldn't help yourself when it came to him, your body reacted on a biological level.

Acutely aware of your gaze, Frank knew your eyes followed him as he moved, he was the one on display now, and a small part of him loved it. 

“I think she’s ready to go” He smiled, softening his stoic features.

“I can’t believe you just did all that, thank you so much, that was impressive!” you gushed as you both walked back into your house. Frank washed his hands of the grime in the kitchen sink. When he turned back, there was that look in your eyes again, filled with gratitude and awe, the one he couldn't get enough of. An overwhelming sense of pride swelled in his chest. He was still useful, still helpful to you. 

“Don’t mention it” He replied, laying both palms on your shoulders, slowly running them down your arms, making heat skittle across your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you Han” his voice was quieter, softer than before, as you drew closer to him, Hidden magnets pulling you towards each other.

“Anything?” you asked softly, keeping your eyes on his hands holding yours, caressing the backs of your palms with his thumbs. Your heart galloped at his proximity. 

“Yeah” he replied, exhaling sharply.

His palm came up to your face, thumb gently tracing the seam of your lips, reminding himself of what he was not supposed to taste.

“So goddamn beautiful and sweet, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasped. 

“Frank…” you pleaded. For him to kiss you, to do something, anything. To ease the agonizing ache in your chest that grew more unbearable with each time he was near.

He shook his head silently. Anything but this, anything but what you both wanted. 

He didn’t know why he was doing this to you, to himself. Maybe he felt like he deserved this self-inflicted punishment. Like a masochist pushing himself to the breaking point.

"You can…have me" you finally spoke, just barely, heart slamming in your chest at the words you thought you'd never say in his presence.

Frank sighed heavily. This was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Hannah, baby, you don't want this.." he replied, regret painted heavily on his face.

"You'd be surprised" your voice was tinted with annoyance. "I'm not a child Frank, haven't been for quite some time" 

"But you deserve someone your age. We're not even supposed to be talking about this" 

"Yet you keep almost kissing me. Maybe you should do it, get it over with." You cocked up a brow in defiance.

Frank chuckled, then turned serious. "I'm scared that if I start I’m not gonna be able to stop" 

You shuddered at his words. The thought of him actually reciprocating your feelings, and admitting it, seemed so far-fetched. 

"Well I might be a terrible kisser" you smirked, stepping closer to him, faking confidence to the best of your abilities. 

"I wish I could believe that" He clenched his jaw, eyes darting to your palm lying on his chest.

“Only one way to find out” You teased, glancing up at him.

“m’sorry” He stepped away, dropping his hands.

“Coward” you muttered under your breath, hoping he’d hear it. Anger flooded you, he was doing it again, pulling you towards him just to push you away. As if he had no idea how badly it fucking hurt. 

“Careful now babygirl, you don’t know what you're asking for” 

He issued a grave warning, shutting the door behind him, not giving you a chance to respond.

*******

17:45 Hannah I’m sorry

17:46 Frank Me too

17:48 Hannah Are you mad at me?

17:51 Frank No Han. Not at you

17:52 Hannah Who then?

17:53 FrankI gotta go 

17:54 Hannah OK

The exchange you had replayed repeatedly in your mind, making you feel increasingly pathetic. You practically begged for him to take you, made it abundantly clear you wanted him, and he still said no. Out of honor or dignity or god knows what abstract concept. It wasn't because he didn't want you, but you could see him trying to convince himself he didn't. That stupid fucking age excuse. You wished he’d just tell you the truth.  When the tears finally came you allowed them to wash over you. It felt foolish to cry over this, frivolous and vain in comparison to your father’s death, but it stung just the same. 

********

You bumped into Rebecca Levine on your maiden voyage with your dad’s Honda, deciding to go into the nearest Starbucks would be tempting enough to make yourself drive it. 

“Hannah! Omg! Hi!” She greeted you warmly, setting her cup on the counter so she could hug you.

“Hey Beck! Good to see you” you were genuinely happy to meet her. 

You’d see her every time you came to visit, and the two of you quickly struck up a friendship.

“I heard about Saul, I’m so sorry.” she grimaced, pulling her eyebrows together.

“Yeah, thanks, it’s ok. I’m just clearing out the house now” you mirrored her expression.

“I just got into town for the holidays actually, Do you maybe wanna go out? Catch up a little.” 

“You know what? Sure, I need to get out of that house” You agreed happily. Finally you had something to look forward to.

That night you stood in front of the mirror, applying your lipstick and pushing your breasts together in your top. You tossed your hair from side to side, mindlessly asking yourself if Frank would find you pretty like this. 

Doesn't fucking matter. Does it? 

Anger began to bubble inside of you at the thought of him. He made his choice and it was probably for the best. Whatever was pushing him away repeatedly must be a good enough reason. 

You wished you knew, maybe it would help you stay away from him out of your own volition. 

*******

The place was packed. Being one of three bars in a 20 mile radius it enjoyed quite a crowd, on Fridays in particular. The air was heavy with the smell of beer and smoke and you took your jacket off as soon as you were escorted to your table by the hostess.

After a brief conversation Rebecca ran into some more friends, leaving you to nurse your second drink alone while she entertained them. She did introduce you but the conversation went over your head, the music being too loud for you to follow.

Frank's image refused to leave you, as you touched your own lips, tracing the ghost of his fingers. 

By drink number three you pulled out your phone, opening your text chain with Frank. What an infuriating asshole. You riled yourself up, which was much easier in your drunken state.

What a fucking mess. He thinks he knows better than me, that he can make decisions for me… cant fucking decide for himself. He keeps torturing me, probably likes it too. Probably enjoys the desperate look in the fat girl’s eyes. Acting all fucking high and mightly and righteous. Fuck him. 

23:03 Hannah I thought about it again. I dont think I am sorry. I think YOU should be sorry. I think you enjoy torturing me. 

23:06 Frank Are you ok?? Where are you? 

23:06 Hannah Im great. Went out to find someone more age appropriate.

23:06 Frank Thats not funny. Are you drunk? 

23:08 Hannah Why do you do it? Why do you try to kiss me and then act like its all my idea?? Do you know how bad it fucking hurts??

23:08 Frank Where are you?? 

23:09 Frank Hannah??

23:09 Frank ??

23:11 Frank Han im sorry. Where are you??

Frank’s heart sank, guilt flooded him and settled low in his gut. He was making you collateral damage. Each time he was drawn closer to you and pulled away, each time he denied himself, he also denied you, rejected you, inflicted the same pain on you. 

And now you were drunk, god knows where, and with god knows whom. 

He opened his phone to text you again when he saw the instagram logo. Might help.

He scrolled past a few images and then he saw it.  Your delicate hand, nails manicured in black, holding a cocktail glass. The red logo on the napkin gave away your location. 

You returned your phone to your clutch bag and threw the rest of your cocktail back, the sweet tang of it causing bile to rise in your stomach. Need water, or tomorrow's gonna hurt like a bitch. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much, suddenly finding it increasingly hard to walk as you got up and made your way towards the bathroom, wobbling on two left feet and leaning on whatever your hands could find. 

“Hey! What the fuck dude!” The sharp voice was familiar, and you realized you were grabbing a man's shoulder.

“Sorry..sorry” you mumbled as he turned, making the color drain from your face.

Caleb. 

Even in a hundred years you’d remember the face of the person who turned your high school years into hell.  You dared to reject him once, and he made it his life's mission to make you regret it. 

“Would you look at that…heavy Hannah?” He smiled, without a trace of sincerity. "Should have known you'd come looking for me"

You blinked at him, dumbfounded, silenced. You were reminded of how powerless he always made you feel, of that awful nickname that caught on. 

“Aren’t you gonna apologize?” He continued, voice dripping with venom.

“Already did. Leave me alone.” 

“Hey!! Hey!! Come back here Friedman! Let's catch up!” He shouted at you as you desperately attempted to get away, pushing people to the side and squeezing in between them, clawing your way out.

Your eyes caught the back exit sign and you darted towards the glowing light as fast as you could, adrenaline pushing out the alcohol in your veins. It all felt like a nightmare, the ones in which you tried to breathe, but your lungs wouldn't fill with air, tried to run but your legs were stuck in quicksand.  You turned your head back, and for a moment you seemed to have lost him, as you quickly slipped out, closing the door behind you.

Your lungs burned, waves of cold sweat washed over you. You shivered from the cold, realizing your jacket was left behind, attempting to think of a plan that will allow you to slip back inside, grab it, and make a run for it as fast as possible. It was clear to you that Caleb wouldn’t leave you alone. The asshole could never resist the temptation of torturing you. Fucking sadist.

You leaned against the wall, drawing deep breaths of cold air. The sudden noise of the door opening drew your attention but it was already too late as he tightly grabbed your wrist.

You were in no shape to fight or defend yourself against him, but you knew you’d have to try.

“Gocha… lucky you can't run fast, can you?”

“Caleb please leave me alone” you insisted, trying to pull your hand, knowing it's hopeless, you were an easy target and he was nothing if not lazy.

“I’d say you seem a little cold, even with the extra padding” 

“Your fat jokes are super funny. Now go away please”

“Maybe I could warm you up, huh?” 

“It’s still a nope from me, now fuck off” You desperately tried to make your voice more intimidating and determined.

“You're being rude, you should be thanking me, you're lucky I even wanna touch you, most guys probably don't. But I'm feeling generous"

“you're being a creep, do not touch me.” You attempted to pull your hand out of his steely grip

Fear flooded your veins as he loomed closer, constricting your airways and making it harder for you to think and breathe.

He crowded your space, shoving his face into yours. His other palm grabbed your cheeks tightly, squeezing painfully.   “Come on baby, give me a little kiss, that would be a good enough apology for me” 

You could smell his foul breath as he slotted his mouth against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your throat, making your teeth clash.

Your body finally responded, you bit into his tongue and pushed him back as hard as you could, causing him to stumble backwards, finally letting go of your wrist. “Get the fuck off me!!” you shouted, hoping someone could hear you.

Anyone. 

“Fucking bitch!” he spat, blood drizzling from his mouth.

His palm moved fast, the sharp sting flooding the right side of your face, burning your skin. 

Your ear rang so loudly you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“You heard her” the grave voice was filled with more rage than you’ve ever heard.

Frank was an unstoppable force moving towards Caleb at maximum speed, crashing into him, sending him flying against the wall. His arm restraining Caleb in place.

“Fuck off man, let go of me” Caleb whimpered, his voice small and pathetic.

“I’ll let go when you apologize” Frank growled, not moving a muscle.

"So..s...sorry” Caleb squirmed

“Not good enough, fuckface. Try again” 

“I’m sorry Hannah” His voice strained against Frank’s arm pinning him by the throat.

“Atta boy. Now say thank you” 

“Thank you?” Caleb’s features twisted with a question mark.

“Say ‘Thank you for breaking my nose, sir’ ” 

“What?? Whah…what’s that supposed to mean?? why?” Caleb’s eyes filled with terror

“Cause you hit her, and I have decided to spare all other bones in your body” Frank's tone was flat, low and thick like gravel.

“Come on, let’s hear you” His steely eyes pierced through Caleb, cold and unforgiving.

"No man..your'e crazy" Caleb tried to protest

"You have no fucking clue" Frank replied, eerily calm. There was a pause that stretched between the two men, but Frank's eyes remained on Caleb, unflinching.

“Th…thank you..for..” his voice finally shook

The sickening crack sound was followed by a howl of pain. Caleb dropped to the ground, trembling, grabbing his bleeding nose with both hands.

“Come on, let’s go” Frank wrapped his arm over your shoulder, leading you towards his truck.

“You’rer shaking, take my jacket” He removed it, wrapping it around you. The residual heat from his body was so incredibly comforting.

You nodded without saying a word, keeping your eyes down.  You felt yourself sinking deeper into shame, and he didn't have to say anything, you disciplined yourself sternly enough.  Youv'e never felt more like a scalded child in your life. Helpless and irresponsible. Having the grown up clean your mess for you.

So fucking embarrassing. So messy. Drunk texting him, having him save you from the big bad creep. Pathetic.

“Whatever you’re saying to yourself now, stop it” Frank’s deep voice cut your train of thought. 

His heavy hand came to rest on your thigh, the warmth of it seeping through your jeans. 

“I’m sorry…” Your voice shook, tears began to pool in your eyes, the combined weight of every way you have embarrassed yourself was too heavy for you to carry. 

“Nothing you should be sorry about Han, It’s not your fault, none of it.” 

He kept driving in silence , his palm never leaving your leg, seeking constant physical validation that you are in fact ok and within his reach.

When Frank parked the truck the sudden absence of his touch left a cold void, making goosebumps run across your skin. You weren’t sure what you needed more; to crumble and cry yourself to sleep under your blankets or to cling to Frank's body heat and wrap around him like a cold blooded reptile, seeking warmth and comfort. 

“Thanks Frank, I’m sorry for this. I’ll go home now” You muttered, deciding that you have inconvenienced him enough.

“Do you wanna come in?” He asked softly, grabbing your hand.

“Okay” you replied, not finding it in yourself to resist the invitation.

Frank’s home was always minimalist to the point of being spartan. Nothing more than the bare essentials. Always spotless though you couldn’t imagine him cleaning. It fit him perfectly, being surrounded only by things that had a function, a purpose. 

You plopped on the couch with a heavy sigh, still wrapped in his jacket, shivering from the cold.

“Here, drink.” He handed you a glass of water, which you gulped quickly.

“How many did you have?” he asked 

“Three, pretty strong ones.” 

Frank took the empty glass from your hand, refilling it again, and sat himself next to you on the couch.

Your breath was heavy in the silence of the room, when tears began flooding your eyes again and you sniffled. You could sense him looking at you, disappointed no doubt, at the crushing way you managed to embarrass yourself. Your skin itched with the need to hide but your body refused to move. 

“C’mere” He grunted, scooting closer to you. 

A sign of relief left your lungs as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Seems like all I do is cry on you, I should really stop that” you murmured.

“S’ok Han, You know it's alright with me” He replied, voice muffled by the hug.

His palms ran down your back, sliding beneath the jacket, fingers brushing gently on the sliver of skin at the base of your spine, above your jeans. You fought your need to straddle his hips and press yourself fully against him, acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers on your bare skin.  His face nuzzled into your neck, breathing the scent of your hair, pressing himself against you. For a moment it seemed that he was the one begging for your warmth. 

Frank wished he could tell you. How sorry he was, how badly he wanted to kiss you, how his hands fucking burned with the need to touch you. He knew had no right to you, no right to claim you for himself, it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

Slowly your body went soft and limp in his arms as you began to doze off. He laid you gently on the pillow, covering you with the throw blanket. 

He brushed the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear, swiping a finger along your earlobe. He wished he could kiss it, draw the velvety skin between his lips and tug gently with his teeth. You'd shudder, goosebumps would run along your side as you'd press closer to him. God, he wished he could. 

The sound of the shower being turned on made you stir awake. You blinked once, twice, before connecting the dots in your mind. 

Your body ached, throat was dry, and limbs were heavy, but a voice in your head spoke loud and clear. Get up.

You obeyed.

You took off Frank's jacket, then your top, your jeans, socks, bra, and panties. The neatly folded pile of clothes was left on the couch as you walked towards the shower.

Steam filled the small room, the spray of water hiding your presence. Your heart slammed in your chest, so violently you could hear it, but a stronger force possessed you now.

You watched him for a moment, standing under the hot stream, eyes closed, he ran his palms on his face, combing his hair back with his fingers. You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing yourself onward.

Frank’s eyes flickered open, he felt like he was being watched, and it took him a second to realize what exactly he was seeing through the steam. The sight of your naked form made his breath hitch, unsure of what you'll do next.  He barely flinched when you opened the shower door and stepped in silently, your eyes finally connecting.

He was cornered, you left him no choice but to face this head on. 

Brave girl.

You lifted your hands to caress his face, in a silent plea, but he grabbed your wrists. A final pathetic attempt to stop you. He felt weak, desperately holding on to his reserve by the thinnest thread. 

He looked at you with an expression you could not decipher. His dark eyes wide open, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. He seemed angry but he did not speak, did not move. The deafening silence rang in your ears, and you felt yourself breaking under his stare. 

He released your arms slowly, as you gently cupped his face in your palms. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows, wearing a pained expression. The tension inside you boiled, begging to be released, clawing under your skin and rising like bile in your chest. You were ready to confess it all, every last agonizing thought, every dirty fantasy. 

You came closer, tilting your head and ever so gently pressing your lips against Frank's. His muscles tightened under your touch and your heart began to sink, as he did not move. 

This is a mistake, stop it now. His brain screamed, but all he could feel was the touch of your hands, the softness of your mouth on his. It was a balm on his nerves, forcing him into submission in the gentlest of ways. 

He drew a deep breath, allowing himself to finally surrender to you. His arms wrapped around your plush body, fingers digging into your wet skin, pulling you in, reciprocating your miserable kiss. 

You whimpered as the tension rolled over you in waves. He deepened the kiss, his tongue asking permission to taste you. He licked into your mouth, with infinite softness, nothing like the bruising kisses you imagined, he was tender and sweet and patient. His fingers rested on your cheek, guiding your mouth onto his, tracing your lips between kisses. 

He leaned you against the shower wall, pressing his body into yours, and you melted with delight, clinging closer to him, as your touch starved skin finally found relief. His patience spoke of a need to hold back, to protect you from himself, but you wanted to be consumed by him, devoured until there was nothing left. 

Your naked bodies slotted against each other yet you kissed as though you were still clothed, hands gently skimming along the sides, caressing the neck and arms. Exploring carefully into new territory, hiding desperate urgency.

Frank's mouth trailed slow kisses from your jaw, down your neck, until he realized there was no fabric separating you. Hesitantly and carefully his palm cupped your bare breast, his thumb circled the areola until he took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue and causing the sensitive bud to pebble. He muttered a soft “fuck” before moving to your other breast, cupping them both and feeling the weight of them in his hands. “So goddamn pretty” he whispered and kissed his way back to your mouth. 

You allowed your fingers to trail down his torso, skimming the firmness of the body you used to conjure in your mind for years. He felt so big, so real, his imaginary form turning solid. Your lips pressed against the column of his neck, licking greedily at the junction of his jaw and up to his ear, grazing with your teeth just barely, just like you desperately wanted to, a thousand times. 

The weight of his heavy cock on pressed into your hip, and as you rutted against it the friction made him groan, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, grinding himself against you. His thigh slotted between your legs, causing your breath to quicken. You were reminded of all the times you thought about rocking yourself on his thigh until you came.

You dragged your core on him, wet heat emanating from you, each moan you made swallowed by his hungry mouth. “That’s right, rub yourself on me baby” His voice was pure sin, and the words made you clench around nothing. He didn’t even have to touch you, he could talk your pussy into cumming if he damn well pleased.

His grip grew tighter and greedier as his fingers spread across your ass, grinding you against himself harder, each slippery drag of your soaked cunt punctuated by a breathy moan.  The heat rose steady in your belly, spurring you on, pulling you closer towards your release. Your hands rested on his chest, bracing yourself for impact. 

Opposing needs pulled Frank in both directions.The need to protect you, be gentle and careful and reverent. But also the need to ruin you, to watch you come undone, take more than you could give and give more than you could handle, until you were a quivering mess in his arms.

He broke from the kiss to look at you, transfixed with the way your face contorted in pleasure. If he was doing this, surrendering to this, he wanted to see you. The way your chest rose and fell, your brows pulled with concentration, your parted lips emanated those pretty sounds. He wanted to see what he was doing to you. His eyes flicked downwards, to where your slick folds rubbed against him, where his cock was pressed into your soft flesh. 

“Look at me Hannah” he asked, and your eyes fluttered open, heart galloping at the sound of your own name. 

“Shhh..look at me, s’ok baby, your’e so fucking pretty like this” his thumb ran along your bottom lip and slid gently into your mouth, you began sucking greedily, running your velvety tongue on the pad of his finger. He pumped his finger in and out, mesmerized by the way your plush lips wrapped around the thick digit. 

“Are you gonna cum baby? Hm?” He continued, as you quickened your movements, whimpering around his finger, dragging your drenched core on his thigh again and again, searching for more. "Cum for me honey, make a mess on me" he rasped,  brown eyes almost black with lust.  The pressure in your belly tightened, arousal stirring deep within you, rising higher and higher. A series of strangled moans tore from your throat as your thighs pressed around his tightly. Your blood flooded with bliss, bubbling to the tips of your toes in wave after wave of pleasure. 

You searched for his lips once more, tasting him deeper, pushing your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. He surrendered willingly as you purred against his lips.

He let you come down from your high before switching off the water. Your eyes flickered open lazily, still drunk with pleasure.

"Come on, let's dry you off" his voice sounded softer than you've ever heard it.

The post orgasm haze faded into a fragile sense of careful hesitancy.  He wrapped a large towel around you, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. 

“I can take the couch” He said with a tint of apology to his voice, as he sat beside you on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Your eyes flicked to his, looking for disappointment or anger, but you found none.

“Don’t go, please.” you pleaded, reaching for his hand.

You were scared that if you’d let him leave the room the moment would pass, the magic would fade. Afraid that he’d be back to being his strong stoic self, preoccupied with what’s right and proper and dignified.

You scooted closer to him as he ducked his head, kissing your bare shoulder, earning himself an immediate satisfied hum that spurred him to trail kisses all the way up your neck and jaw until reaching your lips. 

"Lay back baby" he rasped, leaning you on the pillows. 

Exhaustion settled in your bones, laying heavy on your lids as they fluttered shut. His coarse palm caressed you gently, lulling you to sleep in moments.

Frank thought he’d be angry at what you did, but he felt lucky, undeserving of your trust and affections. If he was a better man he would have been able to stay away from you altogether. But he wasn’t. And now he probably deserved this, to have a taste of you before he had to deny himself again. After what he knew he put you through he was willing to pay that price. 

*******

You stirred awake suddenly, being pulled from a dream that did not make sense into a brightly lit room. Your neatly folded pile of clothes laid on the pillow next to you. 

It took you a moment to register Frank's presence, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you, he turned his head a moment later. 

"Mornin' Han" his voice was grave, expression somber. 

"Get dressed, we gotta talk." 

Fin. 

[wheredidmyheadgoing]

"Does it hurt, little one?"

So,

Basically, I was supposed to insert this as a super duper extra comic for Mother's Day. I planned everything nicely, so that I could make it for May 26.

...Then I found out that Poland is literally the only country where Mother's Day is celebrated on that day.

Shoot. You live and learn, they said.

Let's just pretend that I posted this on 14 May 2023, okay?

Nooow that we've got that out of the way, let me explain what's actually going on here. (As if you can't just show everything so everyone understands, you stupid potato-)

1. Why Gregory looks like a zombie

Here we have something I wanted to describe before, but didn't have the opportunity. It's about the workings of the "bloodstream" of the robot children (Gregory and Ella to be more precise). As you can probably guess, there is no need for their heart to pump anything, so everything here is apparent. Which doesn't mean, however, that they don't need their "blood". Oh no.

You see, they do have a device inside them that imitates a heartbeat, but the fluid inside them circulates completely on its own through their bodies. It doesn't just act as a substitute for human plasma - it makes them better able to feel emotions. They are able to feel pain. Thanks to this fluid, their feelings drive their mind. Fact, it is darker and more viscous than ordinary blood, but combined with stage blood and a bit of illusion, it does not arouse suspicion.

Viscous Dark liquid...sound familiar?

Ah yes - good old agony.

This, by the way, solves the possible problem of running out of artificial blood if the robotic kid gets too much damage, because if anything, his pain and the negative emotions associated with it will automatically fill his body with another amount of fluid. Besides, the agony spreads to other objects, including other robots. This gives a lot of new possibilities and...well, that's why Gregory has so many bandages on him. Afton likes to experiment on him sometimes...

Are you keeping up? Great, then how about this?

The reason Gregory is so bloody here is the punishment he received. Our little gremlin can usually handle the commands given to him, but stress, pressure and general overwork mean that sometimes he'll slip up and make a mistake.

Unfortunately, his father doesn't tolerate mistakes.

What is all this punishment about? Well, as Gregory nevertheless consists in part of a computer, Glitchtrap has access to his head. He can talk to him, influence his memories of his past live, and, most importantly, control his mental state. So, if he does something wrong, unpleasant consequences await him, in the form of a huge headache and vomiting blood/agony, which gets too much in him and just pours out through all the orifices of his body. A rather uncool feeling.

2. The relationship between Vanny and the little gremlin

It's a pretty difficult. For Gregory, I mean. Technically, he shouldn't feel anything for her; another tool, possibly an accomplice, alive today, she could be dead tomorrow. Yet he cares, heck, he sees her as some kind of parental figure, as his father is a psychopathic murderer turned AI, and about his mother, for some unsuspecting reason, he can't remember anything specific, except that she had light hair and was called Christine (Hehe, because, you know, Christine!...heh....begins with a C, like Clara, okay?). He would never admit it to himself, but he feels damn sorry for her, because of everything that happened. Especially since he was complicit in pushing her away from her loved ones, worsening her mental state, and ultimately helped bring about her possession. Yep, a manipulative little manipulator. Oh well.

So Gregory feels guilty, while at the same time insisting that he shouldn't, because, after all, he's not doing anything wrong - he just wants to put his family back together. Therefore, he rather tries to avoid her, and is often just plain mean - the fact that she is such a nice person to him simply overwhelms him.

I'll bet my caramel and hazelnut chocolate that I made some stupid translation mistake.

[littlemissmanga]

Matchmaker queen would you do me the honor of pairing me with a strapping young lad from the GAR?

I’m short, incredibly loyal, pretty nerdy/easily fixated on a topic or subject (pretty sure I have ADHD or am a little neurospicy). I find my people and feel honor-bound to take care of them. I’m not quite the mom friend, but over the years I’ve grown into kind of the “momma bear” stereotype. I love the water and am incredibly unhappy when I’m not out on a ship or near it. I love tattoos (have quite a few of them with plans for more)! I love cooking and while I struggle sometimes with my health, one of my biggest ways of showing my love is cooking for/with that person. I HATE bullies and people who can’t accept others for who they are or can’t value their differences. I don’t have a ton of friends, but those I’m close to, I love unconditionally and would give anything for them. When I really get to know someone I finally show them the side of me that I often hide, I love singing and dancing all goofy. I’m a little nutty when I go too long without working out or dancing, but I’m pretty physical touch-oriented and almost always down for a good cuddle with my loved ones.

Yen Ori'ken's Valentine's Day Matchmaker Services

Yen: The honor is all mine, @thegirlwhosesilencespeaksloudest, though I make no claim of royalty.

I believe I have just the match for you!

Clone Commando Wrecker of Clone Force 99.

You seem like a bright, optimistic person with a big heart. So Wrecker is a natural choice. He has a similar disposition, though I'd wager he's a bit louder about it than you are.

Wrecker is always interested in exploring (he insists it's different from learning but we don't need to correct him) so he'd love to get involved in whatever your latest fixation is. He may not understand it, but he does understand the way you light up and get excited talking about it. He feels the same way about explosives. And he admires how you can pick up new interests and hobbies.

He knows he can look intimidating, so Wrecker takes care to make sure you feel comfortable with him, always. He's loud, but emotionally aware and will do everything he can to put your comfort first. When you do feel comfortable with him, he absolutely encourages your bubbly, lively, goofy self. Honestly, seeing you come out of your shell and come to life like that is his favorite thing.

His second favorite thing is your loyalty to your friends. Seeing someone so much smaller than him puffing up and stepping up to protect their loved ones gets his blood pumping and you'll have all 6ft 5 in of him standing up right by your side.

And you like to cook? You're speaking his language because he likes to eat! But in all seriousness, he's a pretty handy help in the kitchen. And if you ever made food just for him, just to show you care? He'd melt and be putty in your hand.

While he's afraid of heights, Wrecker is also a big fan of the water. (And an excellent fisherman, I hear).

As such, I think a nice date for you two would be a dinner picnic on the beach. He'll definitely ask you about your tattoos and admire them. He may even ask you to help him design his next one. I don't doubt the two of you will cuddle and get comfy together to watch the sunset.

I hope you enjoy your date with Wrecker, and thank you for writing in!