#not necessarily a favorite that I would like to hang out with but absolutely a favorite where I cheer wildly whenever he appears

[ordinarytalk]

CHAPTER 8 CLIP.EXE MOODBOARD

@venomous-qwille I am rotating him in my mind continuously

(Go read Ghost In The Machine)

[rowdyluv]

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐥𝐡𝟒𝟑

summary: requested by @toasttt11 : “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that makes me want to treat them like they’re royalty, like they do” in which luke yaps out about his girl to jack, luke hasn’t told his girl exactly how much he likes her, jack takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: use of y/n, couple uses of profanity, really it’s just luke being a massive s!mp for his girl so fluff fluff fluff, jack meddling (again)

word count: 2.25k

notes: thank you toast for this prompt request I had a lot of writing this!!! i didn’t think i would finish it so quickly but the tournament i was supposed to ref got cancelled so im stuck in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write… hopefully its good because i already wrote a 6 year in the future pt 2

As Luke slid the key into the lock, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled him up like a cup of his favorite grandma’s homemade hot chocolate after a long day of playing on the outdoor rink as a kid. He had just returned home from his date with a girl he had become absolutely smitten with. Her name was y/n, and she had this alluring way about her that made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. It was in the way she laughed, how she would talk about her family, it reminded Luke of the way he talked about his family, it was the way she smiled when she talked about her favorite things. To Luke everything about her was perfect.

And now, here he was, back at his shared apartment with his middle older brother, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Jack, had spotted him as he was about to enter the apartment through the windows and was gingerly waiting to ask him what had him so smiley.

Luke routinely wears this tight lip, apprehensive smile but after being around her or simply just the thought of her was enough to bring out his genuine smile. “Who or what has you so giddy? You look like a child who was just told they were given unlimited access to a toy store for the next year.” Jack questioned. Scampering around their small living room to stay right on his younger brother’s heels. Attempting to insure he didn’t miss Luke’s answer. Luke didn't even need to think about it before he replied, "I’ve been seeing someone...and let’s say, if someone would have asked me what I wanted them to put together in a female, she is it. Wholly everything." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for Jack. Luke’s heart was still beating rapidly even after being away from y/n for half an hour now. He was truly down bad.

Jack's eyebrows raised, his mouth agape. Not believing what he just heard quite yet, "Wait, you mean you're in a relationship with someone?" He asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Luke shook his head no, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. Jack narrowed his eyebrows as if to question him why no, but didn’t just yet. Sometimes dating exclusively just doesn’t happen. "And this girl, she's...she's really special?" He prodded. Luke nodded again only a yes this time, and more confidently. "Yeah, Jack. Y/n is really special. I don't think I've ever met another girl that makes me want to treat her like she's royalty all the time, like she does." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I think...I think I might be falling in love with her." The silence that followed was deafening. Jack beginning to think Luke just might be serious.

Jack looked at Luke, attempting to gauge if he was serious or if he was just being his typical sarcastic self. But when he studied Luke’s eyes and noticed the sincerity shining through and the emotions held in each word he spoke that this definitely was not a joke. There was no way this was just another one of Luke's short flops either. He was serious about this girl.

For a short lived moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy that the youngest was seemingly finding himself in a serious relationship. Only he quickly reminded himself that it wasn't like he was necessarily someone who had truly went out and tried to find himself someone special either. It also wasn't like Luke had ever been the kind to want anything that was deemed as just a good time or an easy lay. However, he also wasn’t one to talk about love, girlfriends, and all that over the top mushy stuff. Those topics were more of Quinn’s realm of interest. Jack had never thought he'd hear any of this from his younger brother. At least he didn’t expect it fresh out of his rookie year when women throw themselves at him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, moving to sit on the couch next to Jack, emptying out his pockets onto the table, all while being under Jack's intense studying stare. "What?" He asked, not entirely sure how to react to his brother's silence. “So, you want to treat her like royalty?” Jack reiterated Luke’s previous comment. Luke nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. Luke dropped his face into his hand for a few moments thinking how he’s going to approach his response before he spoke.

Jack took his chance and grabbed Luke’s phone. He knew his brother all toowell. He knew he would likely never be brave enough to spill out whatever confession he is about word vomit to him out again, let alone to y/n. He quickly shot off a text to her about it being from Jack, and that he was calling her but needed her to listen to the conversation, not talk to him unless he talks to her. Does Jack feel bad for tricking his baby brother and this girl? Oh definitely. But he thinks it will help him, he hopes it will at least. He’s grateful that Luke even mentioned her name.

“Yes I do want to treat her right. I don’t know her past relationships, and I’m not sure that they even matter? If it is her and I, I hope she never thinks of him or them again. I want to give her every reason to forget they ever even existed. I want to make her world be an entirely different place than it is now. Make it different. Better. Because she deserves it. So. Yeah Jack, yes, I want to be the guy who opens the door for her, who treats her like she's the most important person in the room, shit the most important person in this world. I want to make her feel special, you know?" He shrugged, looking up for the first time before meeting his brother's gaze. Thank goodness, Jack had the phone discreetly placed. Luke could continue his rambling which Jack knew by the way his eyes were glassed and his pupils dilated so large, “Go ahead, continue talking about her. You’ve stayed quiet about her for a while apparently, let’s hear it.” Jack wasn’t that interested or invested in Luke’s overtly smitten relationship but he was happy seeing his baby brother so happy.

Luke let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips. "Y/n is amazing, Jack. She's funny, and so damn smart, I am talking mom smart. I have never met anyone else as smart as mom until her, and...and the best part, get this she had no idea who I was before I introduced myself. I was just Luke to her, I wasn’t Luke Hughes, New Jersey Devil. I was just Luke again. I didn’t have to overcome some preconceived idea she already had of me. I only had to worry about the one she would form of me when we first met. She knows now that I play for the Devils, I wanted to be open about it but it was so nice to meet with out having to fight for showing someone that I am more than hockey. So for her, although it has only been a few true dates and a couple times seeing each other I want to show her that to me, she's as important as a princess." Luke paused, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was imagining the moments of treating her, loving her. "She hates being paid for, but I want to give her everything she desires, needs, I don’t want to do it because I’m fortunate enough to be able to. I want to because she never puts herself first. If she’ll be with me, one day she’ll be the first in my universe.” Luke turned his to look at his older brother, hoping that he was getting through to him. He sure was. Jack was nothing short of wonderstruck.

"She's a lucky girl, you know that? To have someone like you who genuinely cares for her, who sees beyond the superficial layers and goes deep, who wants to make her feel so special." Luke nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No. You’re wrong. I am the lucky one. I just hope she knows how I feel. I don't want to mess this up." Jack reached over and pulled Luke into him by the shoulder, a normal gesture of affection from the older brother. "Just be you, little bro. That's all you can do, seems it already worked for you. Right? Mr. Just Luke. Question is though, have you even began to tell her any of this?” Jack asked him possibly the most important question of the entire conversation.

Luke paused for a moment, his expression turning down from the previous glowing high. "Not yet. Us Hughes boys do have a track record of doing or saying dumb shit too early. I don't want to put any pressure on her to reciprocate the same feelings. I just want her to know that she makes me happy, that she's special to me. But I want her to feel it, see it in my actions, without having to say it." He sighed, resting his head back against the couch. "But I know I should tell her, right?”

Jack flashed him a smile, retracting his his arm from over his shoulders and dropping it over to pat Luke's knee. "Yeah, you should. But you've got this, little bro. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're being genuine. She'll see it. And if you're still worried about it, well, I'll always be here to help you. Like now.” Jack revealed that he had stolen Luke’s phone off the coffee table when he had dropped his head earlier in the conversation. Y/n listened silently hearing his verbose words he shared over their time together. Her heart palpitated a few times over things he had said specifically about her. No one had ever talked about her the way Luke did. It made her feel ways she was unsure how to put into words just yet.

A few moments of shared unutterable silence spread across the three of them when Jack had announced that y/n was on the phone and she inevitably had heard Luke’s emotional admiration for her, y/n’s voice finally broke through the speaker of the phone.

"Luke, I'm so glad you told him that. Or well both of us that.. It's just... well, you know... I am just me, a normal person. There’s no need to overplay it silly boy." Her voice was soft, almost shy like it was the night Luke and her me. Probably because Jack was listening, but there was still the hint of that playfulness that Luke had started to love. "I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you see past all of my quirky interests and...” She paused for just a split second “Can I come off speaker phone? Uhm.. I really just want Luke to hear this.” Jack handed Luke his phone with a smug I told you so look plastered on his face. “Hey, it’s just you and I now.” Luke told her, even getting up off couch to allow space between him and his nosey brother. Luke had a smile so big spread across his face. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. His baby brother was growing up on him. Y/n continued, “and most of all I like that you're just Luke for me, and that you felt comfortable enough to still tell me so quickly about your life when you could’ve kept me in the dark for however long you wanted to. You may be this hockey star, but for me you’re just Luke. I mean, I know you're amazing at hockey and all, but that doesn’t define who you are in life. You are so much more. You're funny and sweet and thoughtful, and I just... I just can't help but feel lucky that I get to spend time with you. And I hope you know that." She paused, her voice catching a little, and Luke could swear he could hear her sniffling. "So, um, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want you to know that I feel the same way.” Luke’s face kept flushing deeper shades of red it was nearly burgundy by the time y/n was finished talking. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence without stammering entirely over his words. He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened their text thread.

“Can I come to your place? I think we should finish talking in person?”

Luke pressed send and heard her cute giggle through the phone speaker. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.” The two shared their goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “Jack. You’re dead when I get back, but thank you.” Luke said to his brother scurrying around the living room for his shirt he discarded earlier and his sneakers.

Luke grabs his keys and wallet from the bowl in the table by the door. Murmuring a goodbye to Jack and essentially leaps out the door. He has a very little talking he wants to complete and a lot of affection to start giving. Y/N is anticipating his arrival because first thing she plans on doing is nabbing a kiss from the sweetest boy on this planet. Both of them riddled with anticipation to see each other. If they turn out not to be meant for each other, then there is no way soulmates exist. Luke and y/n are two halves apart that become one when close to one another.

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.

Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute

The Cullens with an Artist! Reader

Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know that he is an artist too

He made Bella a whole song on the piano

As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy

So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic

For you, he’s a muse

I mean, how could he not be

Literally the definition of perfect

So obvs you sketch him a lot

When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored

He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you

He hangs it up

Even if it’s not finished

If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back

But as soon as it’s done it’s all his

Alice:

She’s also an artist

But more with fashion

And design

She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching

So she always loves seeing your paintings

She’s a coexistence girly

She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting

You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time

The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised

It was so difficult for you to hide this from her

Especially with her gift

She absolutely loves it

She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house

She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is

Jasper:

He loves the arts

They’re relaxing to him

Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes

He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway

Art dates with him are a must

He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes

Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work

He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him

You made him look so happy, so peaceful

He’s used to being perceived as a monster

Definitely hangs it up

But only in his room

He wants to be the only one to see it

Rosalie:

She’s more of a technical, sciencey person

Not to say she doesn’t like art

Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it

She can definitely appreciate good work tho

And she loves everything you make

She buys you new supplies all of the time

If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set

When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed

She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow

But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful

But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it

Emmett:

He’s not an art person either

He’s a bit of a meathead

But he can appreciate art

Probably not as deeply as other people can

But he know when it looks good

And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever

He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders

And hang them on his locker

When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded

Like awestruck

What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?

Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night

Esme:

Resident artist

We already knew that tho

I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?

Idk

Either way she loves art

Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum

She loves it

So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?

Yeah she’s gonna start crying

She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love

She hangs it in the main room

It doesn’t matter if the colors clash

And it’s never coming down

Carlisle:

Another appreciater of the arts

I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old

So it’s no shock

Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw

Especially if he’s doing some paperwork

I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working

Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself

The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos

So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first

He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good

He hangs it up in your shared bedroom

Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden

He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain

But he secretly loves it so much

Vampire! Bella:

I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart

Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters

But she totally had an artsy phase

I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad

She just prefers to look at art rather than make it

So that’s where you come in

She loves just watching you work

Every once in a while she paints with you

But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made

So she usually just sticks to admiring

The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do

She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful

And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?

She needs to lie down

She loves it tho

[infiniteimaginings]

Hello there! I was wondering if maybe you could write something for Carlos de Vil and Chad from Descendants? (if it could be poly, but before they were dating iykwim, I'd be very grateful!) The thing is that the reader is the daughter of Gaston (twin sister to Gil, but she hung out with Mal and her gang when in the isle) and the reader is just everything a "lady should be". (Gaston is her father so she was kind of raised to be a housewife with the strenght to fight for herself given the need). like knows how to cook very well, is very affectionate, always hanging onto their every word (also always holding their hand or hanging from their arm), knows how to sew and definetely loves spoiling them with kisses and affection. And they just have this petty banter of fighting for reader's affection and attention and being this whiny pair of goofballs that just want their girlfriend to pay them attention. And reader is just like so loving with them <333

Playful Competition (Carlos De Vil x Fem!Reader x Chad Charming)

Summary: Your boyfriends love your attention, this is how they get it and react to it. Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: None Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I did like, Reader is dating both of them, but Carlos and Chad aren't dating (yet). I hope that's what you meant. Also, this ended up going into a different direction that I thought it would, it's fluff just, not how I expected the fluff to be lol! Turned more into chad and carlos loving you and arguing over you a bit <3333

Auradon Prep had an amazing tourney team, and they played on a pretty big field where the students of the school could fill the stands and yell for their favorite team members. This isn’t about the team necessarily, it’s about two of the players on said team.

Number twenty three, Chad Charming, and number one hundred and one, Carlos De Vil. Two players who absolutely couldn’t stand each other. They could barely keep their arguments off the field, almost bringing their team down completely, but they knew how to keep it down for that at least.

They argued about everything, nit-picked each other, on and off the field, and found each other's weak spots to hit harder than anywhere else. There wasn’t a moment where the two of them were together that didn’t end with them at each other's throats.

That was until they met you. 

You were light to their dark days, you were the peace to their war, you were everything to the two boys. 

Just because they loved you, didn’t mean their petty arguments ended.

After games they would both wave to you.

Chad would lock his sights on you the moment the game ended. He would give you a small wave and when you noticed he would salute. After saluting he would wink and blow you a kiss that would make your heart flutter.

Carlos on the other hand would search through the stands, whipping his head left and right because out of his own excitement of you being there, he forgot where you were sitting. When he finally met your eyes he would jump up and down, waving his arm energetically in a big wave. 

They argued half the game, but ironically they were standing next to each other after it when waiting for you to approach them. 

When you finally reach through the crowd, you wrap your arms around them, bringing them down a bit so they could hug you with one of their arms. You would give them compliments, kiss their cheeks, praise them, and more.

When you spoke to Chad he would tell you about how the coach praised him for the plays, he would ask you for your opinion on how well he played. You would attach yourself to his arm, looking up at him as he spoke, nodding as he told you about the plays.

When you finished you would look at the energetic boy next to the two of you, ready for him to tell you everything he wants. 

Carlos was practically jumping up and down, asking if you saw him do anything cool, if you cheered for him, how exhilarating it all was. You would ruffle his hair and hold his hands as he spoke with bright eyes, telling him all about how you saw him on the field.

Both boys would wonder who you would walk off with. They wondered that because Carlos hung out with the VKs, and Chad hung out with the other students of Auradon Prep.

How did they convince you to go with them this time?

Chad wrapped his arm around you with a grin, placing a sweet kiss to the lobe of your ear, “The team is having a celebration tonight for the win, wanna go get ready for it with me, Princess?”

Typically, this would win you over, if it was any other day. 

This time you smiled and tried not to lean into him, “Maybe you should shower first and then we could all go together!” You suggested happily, holding both of their hands.

When you looked at Chad, Carlos was behind you sticking his tongue out. He knew Chad was just trying to pull you away for himself, like always, so your suggestion was truly a blessing.

Chad hid his eye twitching with a smile and hummed, “Of course, Carlos come on, we’re sweaty.” He spoke sweetly, putting Carlos in a friendly enough looking headlock, physically removing him from your area.

You waved with a small laugh, “I’ll see you guys at the party!”

This wasn’t a one time event, it would happen every single day. Whether you were picking a partner, wanting to go shopping, studying, etc. They always found a way for it to be only one of them. 

Though they tried their best, sometimes it was the three of you. They couldn’t be mad at it because your smile when all of you were together made it all worth it.

You were currently in the kitchens of the schools, baking something for the two of them to share. You had placed one of the portions into the oven and decided to take a break, sitting down at one of the tables, pulling a sweater out of your bag as well as your sewing kit.

Carlos put his head on your shoulder behind you, “What’re you doing?” He asked you with a small hum, eyeing your material.

You shimmied your shoulder, the feeling of his chin moving tickled you a bit so you really couldn’t help it. “Ben ripped one of those jackets he has to wear to important, fancy parties.” You explained, holding up the royal blue suit jacket encrusted with gold thread and buttons.

Chad flipped through one of your recipe journals as he listened to the conversation from the seat next to you. “You mean the one he wears to balls?”

You nodded and hummed a small, “Mhm!” in response, beginning to sew the large rip closed.

You sewed in silence as the boys watched you, watched as your hands moved with expertise, as you didn’t even break a sweat. 

Chad chewed the inside of his cheek before looking up to your expression, “How long have you had that sewing kit?”

That question broke your concentration a bit, so you placed the tools down. “Since I was young.” You answered with a nod, standing and patting yourself down to check on the baked goods.

“Did your dad give it to you?”

Before you could answer, a gentle smile spread onto Carlos’s face as he watched you. “I did.” He answered for you, and you nodded in response.

“Carlos also got me the cooking set I’m using!”

Chad eyed the colorful cooking set, the mixing bowls, the rolling pins, the cookie cutters, the cutting board, the entirety of the tools you were using. He didn’t know why but he suddenly felt a bubble of annoyance in his stomach.

He let out a small huff, standing up a bit, “Carlos, I need to talk to you really quickly.”

Carlos raised a brow, “Okay? What do you want?”

“Outside.” Chad spoke quietly through gritted teeth, gesturing to you with his head as a signal of sorts.

The white haired boy rolled his eyes and stood, “We’ll be back!” He told you, walking out the door. 

You yelled out an “Okay!” before turning back to your tasks.

The blonde prince followed the VK outside and when Carlos stopped, Chad kept walking, grabbing Carlos by his wrist and continuing on.

Again, just because they loved you, didn’t mean that their petty fights and stupid arguments just ended. That was exactly why the two boys were at the edge of the tourney field, glaring at one another.

“How did you know to get her that?”

“Why wouldn’t I know what she likes?” Carlos asked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. He knew what this was about, it was about that kitchen set he got you. It was a magical cooking set, nothing spilled, nothing stuck to them, it wouldn’t burn or break, he thought you would like it and you did. 

“Reminder, I’ve known her way longer than you have, so I don’t exactly have to wrack my brain to remind myself of what she enjoys.” He told the blonde, his facial expression supporting his unimpressed tone. Carlos had known you for years, since the Isle, he knew you better than almost everyone. He knew you in ways that Chad never would.

Chad tilted his head, “Oh, really?” He asked with a scrunch of his nose, “Yet, I started dating her first.” He spoke with a small smirk, “So, who was it that…” He began to chuckle, “charmed her?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

A scowl began to form on Carlos’s freckled face as he sucked on his teeth. “I know what she likes.” The white haired boy spoke seriously, dropping his arms to his side as he reminded Chad of the true conversation that he was dragged there for, “You want to know how I know?”

“Please, do tell.”

“I knew she liked you.” Carlos told him, putting a finger to Chad's chest, “That’s why you started dating her first,” He spoke lowly, “because I liked her so much, to the point I even helped set her up with you.”

Chad was quiet as he watched Carlos’s expression with furrowed brows. The prince looked the boy in front of him up and down, “You-”

“I don’t need you to try and tell me how you’re better than me.” Carlos interrupted, face blank as he backed up. “You love her, I love her, and she loves us.” He continued on, looking away. “That’s all that matters to me, she loves us and I love her so much.” He sighed out, making eye contact again, moving a hand through his hair. 

Chad tilted his head at the sudden speech but continued to listen regardless, curious of where this would lead.

“I would do anything for her, and if that means putting up with you…” Carlos huffed, “I’d do it for a lifetime, just for her to be happy.”

There was silence between the two, they just looked at each other. Wind blew through the air, causing their hair to move within it, pieces of clothing ruffling a bit, but other than that it was silence.

A sudden sharp intake of breath was sounded from Chad, “I know you love her.” He told the white haired boy, looking to the ground. “I never said you didn’t.”

“Then why do you keep being such a jerk about it?” Carlos asked, looking for an answer in Chads evading eyes. “Reminder, you agreed to this.” He spoke harshly, “If you’re not okay with it anymore, tell her, and we’ll figure something out.” 

“What if she breaks up with y-” Chad couldn’t even finish his sentence when Carlos laughed. His laughter brought Chads eyes to meet his in confusion.

“Then she breaks up with me and is happy with you.” Carlos shrugged, “I wouldn’t hold it against her to choose you.” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t even hold it against you.” Carlos spoke, puffing air out of his cheeks. “I just want her to be happy, and honestly you guys are good together.”

“She’s also happy with you.”

“Didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Your eyes did.” Chad told him, nodding with his own words.

Carlos blinked his eyes, taking a deep breath before laughing once again. “You caught me.” He told the other in front of him, raising his hands in surrender.

Chad noticed how Carlos’s shoulders slumped down, how his eyes seemed tired. After their little ‘competitions’ he never realized that he might've been making Carlos feel like he had to try harder than he actually needed to. He knew that the freckled boy adored you, but he just now realized that even with Carlos trying his absolute hardest just to get your attention, he had to face Chad. Chad who would act smug after every ounce of affection, Chad who would pull you away, Chad who never even gave Carlos a chance.

Carlos waved his hand in front of Chads face bringing him back to reality, “You can’t just zone out mid conv-”

Carlos suddenly went silent when Chad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. The prince’s face was in the shorter boys shoulder, hands squeezing him gently, body warm against him.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asked, hands extended in the air to the sides as Chad continued to hold him. “Seriously, what i-”

“We’re happier with you Carlos.” Chad mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter.

“You have got to stop interrupting me.” Carlos told him with a small roll of his eyes until a sudden shock hit him. We’re happier with you…

“We?”

“We.”

Carlos stared forward, blinking as he processed the words and the arms around him. He stared forward as he wrapped his own arms around Chad, as his face buried itself into the tallers shoulder. “I’m happier with you guys too.”

Just because they had had petty arguments and unimportant fights….didn’t mean they didn’t like each other.

[aswefindourwayback]

I know how to ball, you know Aristotle

Author's Note: This was very much inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift. Not my best piece but it could be cute. I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated

WC: 1085

CW: a bit of a makeout session at the end, little bit of drinking

Summary: the BAU participate in a company baseball game but you aren’t able to play due to an injury from work so you cheer on Spence and the rest of the team.

It was like 199° outside; fahrenheit or celsius, it didn’t matter. all you knew was that it was hot as balls out and you had to sit out there to watch the rest of the BAU participate in a baseball game against another department from work. 

You aren’t able to play due to an injury you sustained while in the field a week ago when the team was working on a case. It was basically due to clumsiness that you’re out of the game for a while. You managed to twist your ankle very badly. so you find yourself sitting on the sidelines, in hot ass weather, watching all your colleagues play an “exciting” game of baseball. Of course, you didn’t necessarily have to be there. You were there just to cheer on your favorite person. Although, he wasn’t the most athletic person out on the field, you hate to admit. But he was trying his best and you were proud as hell. 

Spencer had been nagging you about how to play well in today's game, considering you used to play in high school and college. You tried to help him out the best you could but, at some point you two had to admit that it would take a miracle for Spencer to be a standout player out on the field. So you helped him by making sure he could make some contributions to the team with simple skills.

It was now almost the end of the game and spence was killing it. When you first sat down to watch the game, you were scanning the field for him and when you found him, you shyly hid from him, using your baseball cap as a shield to hide your blushing smile. You loved watching him from the sidelines, just cheering him on and screaming til your lungs hurt when he managed to hit the ball with the bat. You were so incredibly proud of how well he was playing. that was your man, and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like high school, being in the stands and cheering on your boyfriend who’s out on the field playing the most intense game you’ve ever seen. This love felt so lively and carefree, it was just love. 

Every time you cheered for him and screamed, you could see his pink cheeks blushing harder each time, his eyes twinkling in the blink of an eye. 

The game ended with the BAU team winning by a longshot, which was honestly surprising. You weren’t gonna lie, your team was pretty fit and in shape, but their baseball skills were questionable, but they pulled through and you were so proud. 

After the game, the whole team went to a bar close by to celebrate and just hang out. The night was filled with laughter and teasing banter. Each one of them was absolutely battering the other for something that happened during the game. Everyone’s favorite moment though was when Spencer hit the ball quite far, and he decided that once he’d run the bases, he was gonna do a little dance and point to you to celebrate his amazing performance. The whole thing had you beaming with pride and joy. 

While the team were speaking amongst themselves, you wanted a moment with just Spence. 

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.” you’d said, head resting in the palm of your hand as you looked up at him. 

He pursed his lips before speaking, “Well, it was your first day at the BAU. You put up this front that you were confident and that you already knew everything. But I know that wasn’t true.”

“What do you mean?”

“You kept tugging on your clothes as if they were choking you. You also kept fiddling with your bracelet. You know, you’re not very good at hiding your feelings for a profiler.” he laughed. 

“Yeah, well, sorry, we can’t all be amazing profilers who can hide every little thing from everyone.” you let out a giggle. 

“But I was also thinking about how pretty you are. Felt like I couldn’t breathe when I first saw you. You’re mesmerizing. It was like I was watching an angel appear before me. And I thought you were so cool. I mean, the way you carried yourself was impressive. I didn’t expect you to be so nice either. Your resting face makes you look a bit mean, but turns out you’re the nicest and most kind hearted person to exist.”

You turned to face away from him, trying to hide the fact that he was making you so flustered. 

He moved to bring your eyes back to his, gently cupping the side of your face til he could see you again. Fuck. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it too. But you didn’t care. You would do anything for him. 

The night ended with everyone heading home after a few drinks. You and Spence were walking to your car, hand in hand, just in a comfortable silence. He walked you to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for you. You thanked him and got in the car. Once you were nicely in the car, Spence closed the door and rounded the car til he reached the driver side and went in. 

You two sat there, just staring at each other for ages. You couldn’t fathom that he was real, that he loved you, and that he was right in front of you. There was no doubt in your mind about him. 

Spence broke eye contact to look around the parking lot to make sure the team weren’t watching before he pulled you close to him and kissed the life out of you. He’d grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled you so close. His lips tasted of the mojito he’d drank, so minty and fresh. Lips so soft, you wondered if he’d applied chapstick before leaving the bar. You moved your hand to rest on the side of his neck, just to feel him. His hand moved up from your shirt collar to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. God, you were practically melting into him. It was getting hard to breathe but you didn’t want to stop. 

No one’s ever had you like he did, and no one ever would. This was it for you. He’s the one you're gonna marry and spend the rest of forever with. He was your sun.

[rhiaarrow]

With Bad joking about preparing to go live as a hermit if the eggs are gone for a long time it really got me thinking about how important the eggs and their eggy actors have been to him.

Not that they haven't been important to everyone, the eggs are such a huge part of the server but tonights ramble is about Bad.

To the shock of absolutely no one! I'm a Ghostie first and foremost, with a hyperfixation and a penchant for writing novel length rambles. This is just the usual atp :')

Before the Qsmp Bad was not a daily streamer, not even close, just check his vods channel. Hell, even when he joined the QSMP he didn't stream every day of the start of the server. He only streamed one or two days for a handful of hours...but then he got Dapper.

And with him being a single parent Bad had to log on every day to do Dapper's tasks.

(Yes, Q was also a single parent but he had ppl babysit Tilin, also she died within the first 2 weeks of her being around soooo yeah, different circumstance)

Then because Bad was on every single day he took up a position of babysitter for most of the eggs since their parents couldn't be on as frequently.

To begin with it was mostly just Tallulah, she could've been taken care of by Philza but her schedule didn't originally line up with Phil's so it was easier for her to wake up for Bad to do her tasks.

Then Ramon started joining them some nights so he could hang out with Dapper.

Then Bad became closer with the French and started to watch Pomme for them when they logged off for the night since Pomme was a night owl.

Then Vegetta stopped logging in as often and Leo kept barely missing Foolish so Bad started taking care of Leo's tasks when Foolish couldn't and she started spending time with him as well.

Then Richas started hanging out with Dapper and Pomme, so they formed the late night trio and hung out almost every night which eventually became Richas just hanging out with Bad whenever he felt like it.

Then Pepito arrived and since Roier wasn't on as often late last year Pepito would hang out with Bad and Foolish most days.

Then Em immediately decided that Bad was her favorite Uncle and would hang out with him when Bagi went to bed if she wanted to stay up.

When the eggs disappeared, rather than his usual 6-10 hour streams Bad was streaming 3-5 hours because his entire time on the server was usually spent hanging out with the eggs.

I've rambled before about how qBad and Tio Bad are two separate things because Tio Bad isn't rp, it's just ccBad atp but I feel like some people don't realize the extent to which ccBad spends time with the Eggy actors.

Every single stream, from 5-12 hours, he's only ever without an eggy companion for a couple of hours maximum.

I mean there's the probability of each egg just showing up to hang out with Bad at any point in the day,

Obviously you've got these 3;

Dapper, Pomme, Richas - highest probability

Then these 3;

Empanada, Pepito,Tallulah, - high probability

Then these 5;

Ramon, Chunsik, Sunny - low probability

Chayanne, Leo - lowest probability

There is no egg that has never shown up randomly to hang out with their Tio Bad (and yes I am counting the Ghostie streams in this, it was still ccBad so yknow)

ccBad spends so much time with them.

Not counting all the stuff he's done on stream with all the eggs, he has;

built the snowman with Talluladmin and Pommin,

played battleship with Pommin and Ricardão,

worked on create farms with Dappmin,

worked on the signs with Pommin and Ricardão,

built decorations with Empanadmin and Pommin

Just to name a couple of the stuff we know, not even mentioning the nights they just spend together after stream doing nothing important

The server feels especially empty as a Ghostie because ccBad himself is just so used to hanging out with not just the eggs but the eggy actors as well.

His days are usually dictated by what one of the eggs wants to do, not even necessarily his kid.

If an egg wants to go on an adventure to find a particular thing but knows it's rare or could take a while, they know that the easiest thing to do (if they don't want to drag their parents to do it) is probably ask Tio Bad to take them to look for it. Em's done it, Tallulah's done it, Sunny's done it, Pepito's done it, Leo's done it, literally every egg except Chay and Chun.

His ass is always online and always willing to do anything for the eggs, unless it's ridiculously dangerous, then he draws the line.

If that man does go live as a hermit due to everything reminding him of the fact that the eggy actors are temporarily on break I will not be shocked.

ccBad spends so much of his time with them, not just their little eggy characters.

[rootsofdread]

Hi! Can I request Trickster, Michael, Ghostface and Skull Merchant and Bubba with a survivor reader basically being goofy with the other survivors and fucking up gens every 5 seconds because their laughing and can't focus and when they get hooked they make jokes and try to annoy the hell out of the killer? And when it's time to escape they drop their stuff for the killer and leave cause they thought it was a fun match? GN reader pls :)

my first bubba request!! i loved writing him for you 🥺🥺

Bubba Sawyer / The Cannibal:

Bubba knows being in the Entity’s realm isn’t pleasant; it’s been a long time since he’s seen anyone have fun. So in all honesty — he kind of enjoys seeing you all have some fun. He’s the first to run over when he hears several explosions in a row from a generator, because he’s almost certain that it’s you, and he could always use a good laugh. You’re the first person in an even longer time to really make him smile, he loves getting to spend time with you during trials and he especially loves getting to laugh with you. For one trial, he can forget that he has a job to do. He can focus on you instead. His favorite thing is getting your gifts after the trials — he gets so excited seeing you leave something for him. He especially loves toolboxes, so he can work on his chainsaw, but he loves everything you give him. He always looks forward to seeing you again.

Michael Myers / The Shape:

Michael doesn’t really understand how or why you’re so comfortable being so…yourself in trials. It’s such a foreign concept to him. Everyone else is so focused on staying alive, but you, you’re…you’re out in the trials having fun, and laughing. He likes to sit and observe you from afar. You usually try to get him in on the joke, come on over here, Mikey, we’re all having fun, but he just shakes his head. Sometimes he gets closer to you and just looms while you and your fellow survivors cry laughing over your antics, exploding the generator you’re all working on at any possible turn. You’ll never get that done. He may seem judgemental, but really, he’s just…watching. He finds it entertaining, in a way, seeing some of you have fun here. He even feels a bit special when you take the time to leave him your things; he doesn’t necessarily have a use for them, but…it’s nice.

Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:

Danny is likely the only one that would be willing to join you in your antics; he seems to love a good laugh just as much as you do. Particularly, he loves either sneaking up on you by ending up just behind your shoulder and waiting to see how long it takes you to notice him, or by sneaking up on a teammate and not only waiting to see how long it takes them to notice, but also making gestures with his hands to try to get you to laugh, too. He loves how much fun you are — everyone else is such a buzzkill, he can’t imagine why, of course, but you just love to have fun here. You’re always laughing and smiling and making everyone else do the same, and it has him utterly smitten with you. You’re his favorite survivor to hang out with, and it absolutely delights him when you leave him your items at the exit gates. He takes everything you give him, and it’d be safe to assume he’s amassed a collection…somewhere.

Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster:

Ji-Woon is a loose canon — for a long time, you were never sure how he would react to you, because it was almost always different. Sometimes he seemed annoyed by your antics, or amused, sometimes he completely ignored you and went for someone else; sometimes he was particularly bloodythirsty and you were his first target. It was always a toss-up. Over time, he gets more used to you and your shenanigans — he less feels the need to kill you for them and more just lets you have your fun. As long as you’re not specifically giving him problems, he doesn’t seem to really care. Sometimes, even, when he passes by you looking for someone else, he gives you a little smile or giggle, indicating he may just be amused by you now. And every time you leave him an item, you see him take it, and later, when he sees you outside of a trial, he hands it back to you with a genuine autograph.

Adriana Imai / The Skull Merchant:

Adriana, truthfully, will have none of it. She knows you won’t give her a challenge and she seems to not care much for that fact — she tends to leave you alone during trials and let you have your fun, slowly picking off your team members instead. Sometimes, she’ll give you a look when she passes by you, silently telling you to do something. Run, scream, hide, give her something to hunt you for. Yet, she seems almost flustered when you look back at her with that big grin on your face. She tends to let you go, too, always responding with you’re no fun if you ask her why, but you’ve always considered, perhaps, she has a soft spot for you. She’d never admit it. She does accept your items at the end, though. She knows she can find uses for them.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer General Profile

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, heavy manipulation, threats of violence, threats of assault, mind breaks, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of non-con, non-consensual touching, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of cum, threats, Chrollo has a god complex but what else is new, Uvogin is mean to you but he doesn't mean it I promise!, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

DARLING PROFILE:

Smart

His darling doesn’t need to be a genius or anything like that, but they do need to posses a certain degree of intelligence.

Chrollo considers himself a well-read, cultured man, and he feels that his partner needs to match his level of worldly awareness, of cognitive ability. It doesn’t need to necessarily lie in the same fields as his own (though he can’t deny that it would be absolutely wonderful to have a darling who enjoys the same types of literature as him, the same philosophers, the same composers), but they must have a certain area that they hold an above average amount of knowledge in.

He finds intelligence attractive, and what initially causes him to develop an interest in his darling is largely due to the showcasing of this knowledge and smarts. He’s entranced the moment his darling opens his mouth, eagerly hanging onto their every word and nodding along, actually finding himself enjoying speaking with them.

He doesn’t have to pretend to be interested in their words for his own gain, rather finding himself genuinely wondering about their opinion on this or that, curious like a child.

He finds his darling fascinating, and a smart darling will get him falling faster, harder, deeper, to the point where Chrollo develops into a love-starved, desperate man who wants to learn more and more and more, aching to become an expert of his own in his favorite field; his darling.

Creative

Similarly, a darling who leans more on the creative side is a perfect match for Chrollo. It doesn’t matter where this creativity finds its medium – perhaps his darling is particularly artistic, enjoying expressing themselves with the arts.

Maybe they love to paint, watercolors and acrylics seeming to come alive under their fingers. (He’d melt if he found a work of him, the colors making him sigh and dreamily trace the lines, joy swimming in his heart that they painted him, that he means enough to them that he’s taken a starring role in their hobby.)

Perhaps they enjoy photography, documenting small, beautiful moments in life. (He’s always trying to look his best around his darling, keeping his neck tense and posture strong, so that if they did take a sneaky, candid photo of him, they’d enjoy what they see.)

Perhaps they play an instrument, melodies ringing out and making Chrollo smile and nod along. (Learning his favorite pieces would make him struggle to not reach out and place a gentle kiss to their forehead, letting his hands wander down their shoulders and cupping their breasts, telling them he’d love to repay the favor and learn their favorite things as well.)

Maybe they enjoy knitting or crocheting, making all kinds of creations that Chrollo finds endearing. (He’d expect them to make him something, of course, subtly demanding he receives something so that when he’s away, he’ll be able to keep a piece of them with him, something made with love and care and specifically for Chrollo Lucilfer himself.)

Cooking, sewing, writing, anything and everything can fit into this category – Chrollo really just likes that his darling is thinking of him, that they spend their time doing something that makes them happy, and if he gets to be involved, all the better.

He’ll even push his way into their hobby, learning all that he can about it with eager fingers, wanting to impress his darling and make the activity into something they can bond over – a way to spend time together, a way to get them all by his side and happy, never, ever wanting to leave.

He just loves them so very much, after all.

Observant

While it would be difficult to find someone more calculating and cunning than himself, there’s something alluring about a darling who is more observant than those around them.

He likes the idea that his darling is just able to pick up on things, their eye more trained to assess those around them, to understand their motives and notice the things they do.

It’s a sign of intelligence, and once Chrollo’s obsession has formed, he’s purposefully doing things he’s hoping his darling will notice, all with the hope that they’ll spend time wondering why he’s always fiddling with his ring finger, or letting his eyes flick to them. It’s like a game to Chrollo, and he finds it beyond entertaining to watch his darling in action, seeing their expressions flit across their face as they try to interpret his odd behavior.

There’s just something that attracts him towards darling that are able to perceive their world for more than it is – he views himself as better than everyone else, a sort of God among men, but a darling that has this trait rises above the countless below him, standing out alone as a superior being, someone worthy and perfect for him.

He’s egotistical, after all, but a darling that can at least kind of match his observation skills is something that will attract him to them – whether that’s good or bad, one can’t say.

Witty

His darling certainly doesn’t need to be a comedian, but someone who can keep up with his thinly veiled banter would cause his interest to spike.

His words are almost always tinged with just the slightest amount of snark, the slightest bit of condescension that seems to be present no matter who he’s talking to.

Perhaps it’s a result of his own pride or self-confidence, but regardless, a darling who can not only pick up on this but also respond with a bit of snark as well would make him momentarily pause, before laughing a bit and wondering just how far he can push them. It excites him to have a darling who can keep up with him, bantering back and forth, and once his infatuation develops, this is one of his favorite things about his darling.

He loves that speaking with them is endless entertainment, hence how often he tries to goat them into conversations. He’s always, always asking them questions, often designed to get them speculating, philosophical questions that he’s genuinely curious to know their answer to, and in the process he gets to have a sort of playful discussion, something that makes his heart race a bit in his chest.

He just likes his darling’s ability to think on their feet, only reinforcing their intelligence and making him fall deeper, harder, more soundly.

It makes him want to keep that wit all for himself, to not let anyone else have the pleasure of indulging in his darling’s words – they’re his, and the longer his obsession festers, the more he believes in that sentiment.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Dependent

Much of what fuels Chrollo’s obsession for you is selfish in nature.

Initially, he’s interested in you because you make him feel something, some strange emotion he can’t quite place. He’s running through all the possibilities early on, wistfully trying each emotion on before discarding it.

Does he want to use you? No, you wouldn’t be especially useful - you’re not all that developed of a nen user, if one at all, so you’d just be wasted effort.

Does he want to steal something of yours? No, you don’t have anything of particular value, nor are you an important individual.

Does he want to kill you? No, something about the thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He’s stumped at first, genuinely unsure of what you’re making him feel, but it’s not until he spends more time with you that he begins considering options that are more foreign to him - that is, that he may have developed more positive emotions towards you, less manipulative and more yearning.

He contemplates whether he’s fallen in love - the books he’s always perusing make love sound so obnoxious, virtuosic, grandiose, and Chrollo can’t quite say he agrees. What he feels for you is ultimately overwhelming, surely - but it’s also much more subtle, slowly taking root in every aspect of his life seemingly without him even noticing. What used to be hours spent searching out new heists and items to steal becomes twinged with just a hint of your presence.

Small thoughts in the back of his head wonder whether you’d like the diamond necklace displayed in this gallery, or how it’d look against your pretty skin, sitting in the hollow of your throat.

What used to be solitary evenings spent reading in candlelight become small daydreams about what you’d think of his current philosopher’s theories, whether you’d indulge him in hours of philosophical discussions, what your opinions on the perception of self are. What your perceptions of yourself are, and, more importantly, what your perception of him is.

It’s not too overwhelming at first; he’s mostly able to control himself, that ever composed stature of his kept carefully in place.

The thoughts are mostly just fleeting, odd off-handed curiosity about you that he doesn’t worry too much about. It’s interesting, mostly, that you’ve gotten to him at all - and it’s this, really, that drives his desire to learn more about you. The fact that you continue to become more and more intertwined with his thoughts leaves him anxiously aching for more, wanting to see the extent to which you’re able to make him feel - something he’d always thought was more or less impossible.

And what you make him feel is so, so very good; his palms are a bit clammy when he sees you, gaze raking over your figure and noting how well your shirt fits your curves, dark eyes eagerly scanning the title of the book you’re reading out of. He’s a confident man, of course, but at the prospect of approaching you and discussing the literature, he can’t help but swallow, tongue sneaking out to lick over his lips.

He feels a strange sense of peace when he’s looking at you, taking in the way the sunlight shines off of your face, the way your clothes frame your body, how your lips quirk up into a smile when you see the little bunny that hops along the grass in the public park. It’s small things, mostly, that get little butterflies fluttering in his chest – and it’s these little fleeting moments of happiness, of contentedness and fascination that lead him to believe what he’s feeling for you could be the ever famous love – or, at least, some variation of it.

Is it love when he’s letting a smile cover his features as you scrunch your brows and huff when you can’t get that stupid jar open? The way you stick your tongue out in concentration and squeeze your eyes shut is  honestly adorable, forcing Chrollo’s eyes to linger on your face just a tad bit too long.

(He can’t help but imagine how you’d thank him so profusely if he opened it for you; he’d even go so far as to roll up his sleeves, exposing his smooth forearms that he knows women can’t resist. Do you fall into that category? Would you be transfixed by his strength, his physical appearance, his smooth voice when he tells you that next time call me first, please, I wouldn’t want you to struggle…)

Maybe it’s the way you look so disheveled in your oversized t-shirt and ill-fitting lounge pants as you shuffle about your apartment, completely unaware of the camera he’d had Shalnark place in your living room. You look comfortable, and there’s something about seeing you so vulnerable, so raw that gets him breathing a bit heavier.

(More than once a thought has, seemingly out of the blue, surfaced where you’re starring and wearing a dress shirt of his – white, stiff material just barely hiding the outline of your breasts and the curve of your hips, tantalizing and looking so very right on you. If that were to happen, Chrollo has already made peace with the fact that he’d hold out on washing that particular shirt – just until he’s gotten the chance to slip it on himself, occasionally sniffing the collar and getting something heavenly, something that can only be described as you and him together.)

Chrollo honestly isn’t sure what it is about you that’s gotten to him to develop feelings - he’s intrigued, earnestly trying to understand it, but as time passes and he finds himself spending more and more time simply thinking of you, he finds himself caring less.

It’s happened already - he’s in love, he’s certain, and now that he’s in that position, the only logical thing to do is pursue you. And while he tells himself it’s all because he wants to learn more about how you’ve managed to trick him into falling for you, really it’s all because he absolutely has to. The longer his infatuation goes on, the less time he can spend away from you, and the less he can justify the strength of his feelings.

He becomes restless when you’re not in his sight - his hands are shaking slightly, thin brows pinched together, every muscle in his body flexing involuntarily. His temper is heightened, irritation brewing in his chest even if he doesn’t mean it – he’s snapped at Nobunaga by accident, his words just a bit harsher, a bit more clipped when telling him the meeting time for the next month.

When he’s not been around you for long periods (a day or so), he just feels like something’s missing, something he can’t quite place. There’s a you shaped hole in his chest, and it turns Chrollo into something of an addict going through withdrawals - he’s become too dependent on the way you make something warm bloom in his chest, and the moment he’s without it, he’s counting down the seconds until he can return to you, return to the calmness and serenity of being around you.

And when you smile at him, answer his questions, brush your hand against his when he hands you a cup of tea, Chrollo can’t help but shiver slightly, his content smile twitching up at the corners ever so slightly. It’s addicting, the way you make him feel so alive, so strangely happy, so light and bubbly and horribly enslaved to his emotions. But while he’s never known himself to a weak man, he thinks he’d be okay with you being his Achilles heel - as long as you smile at him, let him stare as you talk away about your day, let him brush his knuckles against your cheek and whisper that you’re so warm and frail, Chrollo could care less.

He could care less about most things, really, once you step into his life - as long as you don’t leave him, that is. As long as you don’t abandon him, taking you and the feelings you ignite within him with you.

You wouldn’t dare, he’s sure of it. 

Possessive

Tying into his desperation for you to stay under his thumb and by his side, Chrollo can’t seem to shake the way anger flares up inside him whenever another man interacts with you. He knows it’s irrational - it’s possible to have interactions with the opposite gender without ulterior motives; he regularly speaks with Machi, Pakunoda and Shizuku without any goals aside from Troupe business.

And yet, he just can’t forget the way he knows some men are - viscous, disgusting, cruel, vile in a way even Chrollo isn’t. He may be a mass murderer, mentally unstable, unhealthily in need of being in control and a pathological thief, but he’s never harassed a woman before. He’s never sneered at one, groped or touched them in a sexual way without their consent, and he’s only ever seduced a woman with the intent of getting information out of her.

But others?

He knows others are probably just as in love with you as he is - you’re beautiful, intelligent, sweet and oh so perfect, truly a naive, painfully unaware little bunny in a world full of wolves. And wolves will pounce, even if the bunny is already in another’s jaws - just the thought of another man attempting to intervene and seduce you themselves is enough to get Chrollo’s jaw clenching ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing a bit and his fingers clasping around his nen book just a bit tighter.

He’s territorial, unwilling to share the way you make him feel with anyone else - only you can bring him the happiness he craves, so therefore only he is allowed to be on the receiving end. He hates the idea that another man could start chatting you up, throwing false compliments and sweet words your way, buttering you up and trying to steal you from right underneath his nose. It makes his fingers itch, the sense of control he harbors over you slipping slightly. It scares him, if he’s being honest – an emotion he hasn’t felt since he was very young, scavenging the streets of Meteor City.

He loves the way you’re able to make him feel, but this particular emotion he very much doesn’t like, nor does he enjoy the way jealousy pricks at his heart when another man glances at you. It leaves his blood boiling, every inch of his body feeling unbelievably hot, his muscles tensing up over and over.

And yet, Chrollo is a man of opportunity – while it may be torture to see you with another man, something excruciating in ways Chrollo has never experienced before, this is a good chance to paint himself in a better light. It’s a good opportunity to sway your perception of him – particularly if the man isn’t wooing you successfully.

Before he’s stolen you away, he’s quick to observe how men approach you, with suave smiles that make you visibly nervous, your high pitched responses to his questions vague and obviously constructed for your escape. It makes some weird sort of protectiveness spring up into him, but he holds himself back. He wills himself to wait just a tad bit longer, to elongate the discomfort you’re feeling because this will only really work if you’re desperate for an escape route. It’s torture, watching, but Chrollo holds on – until he decides you’re fearful enough, his long strides towards you not nearly as quick as he’d like.

Words will slip from his tongue before he can even really think, always placing himself in between you and the man, physically separating you as he quietly but firmly tells the man off, mentioning something about how unchivalrous it is to corner a defenseless woman.

Honestly, as shocked as you’ll be that Chrollo just emerges from the shadows so often, you’ll be incredibly grateful for his presence and intervention - which is exactly what he’s hoping for. He doesn’t like the way his possessiveness eats him up, but there’s something to be said about making sure that he saves you, making sure that you perceive him as your protector and someone to trust.

It’s an insurance thing, more than anything, because there’s nothing that calms Chrollo quite like knowing that you like him, that you’re associating positive emotions with him. It makes pride swell in his chest to think that you perceive him as some sort of guardian angel to you, and while it almost makes him pity you, it just makes his job easier.

It makes it easier to constantly be trailing you (you’ll never catch him, however), and to get you falling for him just as strongly as he’s fallen for you. If you hold him in a position of power, he will be exploiting that power and control - he’ll be subtle when he starts isolating you, the power trip making him giddy because now no one will talk to you. It makes the corners of his mouth twitch up when he sees that notification on his phone, your contact flashing across his screen.

(It’s just your full name, though sometimes he’ll play with the idea of adding a star next to it, or perhaps a diamond or crescent moon - it’s too childish for him, but he’ll often type it out and quickly delete it, only to retype and repeat the process.)

It makes him feel good to know that you’re contacting him, that you reached out to him, meaning you’re thinking of him and not someone else. He’s leaving small hints of his presence in your apartment; a copy of his book that he ‘accidentally’ left there last time you invited him over for dinner, a watch of his (that he stole, of course, but you don’t know that) that you keep neatly on your dresser and glance at every morning, marveling at how pristine and silver it is.

He’ll leave his leftovers in your refrigerator from nice evenings out, internally cooing at the way you finish them off yourself, liking that you’re wanting to finish his food, obviously not disturbed by the fact that his mouth may have touched a bit of it. He’s trying to stake his claim on everything around you, no matter how big or small it may be, just to get you thinking of him.

(Of course, he’s also a fan of staking his claim in ways you’re less knowledgeable about - he’s even spent nights at your apartment, dark eyes appraising your pretty, sleeping face, spending hours simply staring before wandering around your room, picking things up and digging through your drawers. Sometimes, on days when Troupe business has him feeling just a bit stressed, or he has to deal with particularly important but irritating individuals, he’ll even settle himself beside you, sitting in your desk chair and letting his black slacks fall to his knees, palming himself and shakily exhaling. He’ll caress your cheek with one hand, letting a strained, breathless smile slip across his face while his other hand relentlessly tugs and flicks around his cock, eager to see the way you’ll look with white splattered all across your pretty face. He’ll clean it up afterwards, mostly – it can’t hurt to leave a bit on your lips, right? Just so that you’ll taste him in the morning? Just so that he’ll be with you all night, all day tomorrow, so close?)

He’s possessive in the worst way possible, and while it manifests itself as seeming chivalrous and even a bit endearing, it’s anything but. There’s nothing cute about the way he religiously thinks of you, his every free moment spent watching you or speaking to you with the smoothest, most attractive voice he can muster.

There’s nothing sweet about the way his hand lingers on the small of your back, just a tad bit too insistent when he's guiding you through the crowd, making sure you don’t stray far enough away from him to let air flow between your bodies.

There’s nothing flattering about the way he gazes at you as you slowly wake up in his hold, with no memory of how you got there, no memory of where you are, no memory of how you’d changed into a pretty, billowy nightgown, and no memory of him, at least of the tattoo across his forehead or the carnal look in those eyes.

He’s a possessive freak, and once he decides you’re his target, there’s really no chance of escaping. So don’t even try.

Manipulative

He’s good at getting what he wants, and that mixed with his natural charisma leaves pretty much everyone he encounters susceptible to his charms. He’s spent his whole life studying human emotions, interactions and what drives people, and as such he’s got a pretty good understanding of how to exploit others, how to find the cracks in their armor that leave them putty in his hands.

It’s almost fun, in a way, like a puzzle Chrollo becomes extremely skilled at solving flawlessly. But when it comes to you? Well, no matter how adept you are at seeing through people, no matter how levelheaded or careful you are, Chrollo will be getting you wrapped around his little finger, completely bending to his will.

You are certainly no exception to his charms, if only because Chrollo is trying extra hard with you, the genuine drive to get you visibly bashful at his compliments and craving his touch nearly driving him to insanity. And honestly, you probably won’t even realize it – he’s subtle, giving you a small push here or there with little comments about the people around you, or about habits he wants you to break.

When you’re out together shopping around at stores much too expensive for you (courtesy of Chrollo smiling at you and requesting you let him buy you something, because it would mean so much to me, and I know you’ve secretly been yearning for that new dress), he’ll gently chastise you about how you shouldn’t talk to him anymore – don’t you see the way his eyes are on your chest rather than your face?

(The sales clerk who had been helping the two of you was most certainly not ogling your breasts – but even if you bring it up to your companion, he’ll just sigh softly at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and murmuring that he knows men better than you do, that he can see right through them, just trust me, he would’ve given anything to have you alone.)

The comments will be small but plentiful, designed to get you listening to him and coming to think of him as right, as much smarter and more observant than yourself, something that Chrollo will use to his advantage. He does love you, in some twisted, sick way, but Chrollo’s idea of love is distorted, warped and made ugly by the way he treats you.

He knows it perhaps isn’t the classic method of wooing you, but there’s nothing wrong with twisting the situation just to make sure that his desired outcome sees fruition. He doesn’t like lying to you, and would prefer to always be truthful (to an extent, at least), but he understands that it’s what has to happen in order to make his long term plans a reality – in order to get you unconditionally devoted to him, just as he craves.

It’s unhealthy, but Chrollo doesn’t mind; which is why he’ll be putting to use every possible tactic he can think of to get you returning his feelings, all twinged with just a hint of manipulation, just to get the right seeds of thought planted in that pretty little head of yours.

He’s buying bouquets of flowers every week, sent to your address by hand with a note attached in big, loopy cursive detailing how gorgeous you are; haikus he writes describing your eyes, your hair, your figure and your laugh that get your neck and cheeks feeling warm, the flowers always your favorite colors. (The note also generously makes use of the word ‘my’, preceding nearly everything pertaining to you – my darling, my beloved, my angel, my future.)

He's dressing himself to the nines, with his shirts and pants always pressed and pristine, his cologne noticeably but not too intense, just the slightest touch of gel in his hair, all just to make sure he look as attractive and presentable as possible. He knows women find men in casual business wear attractive, and he’ll purposefully choose white dress shirts with the sheerest material he can get away with – just so that when the light hits just right, you’ll see the hard lines of muscle underneath, his abs and pectorals standing out and straining against the fabric. (He’s always making comments about how other men dress when he’s out with you – claiming that there’s wrinkles in their clothing, that wearing such bright, obnoxious colors are unbecoming of a true gentleman, that their watches and jewelry are obviously fakes, even that he’s seen that shirt for sale and it’s a laughable price – some men must not care much for beauty, and if they’re willing to purchase such low-quality items, imagine how poorly they must treat their partner.)

It’s a constant with him, as if he’s actively looking for every opportunity he can to make himself look better compared to those around him – call it a result of his possessiveness, or maybe some weird, unhealthy craving to get your praise and admiration.

Regardless, it’ll eventually have you slowly seeing what he means, finding yourself nodding along and agreeing with his words, even if you’d never have independently formed such a thought. It’s a slow process and will take a while to work, but Chrollo watches with intent, bright eyes and bitten lips, satisfaction oozing out of him because he’s got you right where he wants you, and sweet little you doesn’t even know.

Of course, once he’s stolen you away and permanently attached you to his hip, his manipulative tendencies don’t just magically disappear. Oh no – if anything they grow stronger, because now that you’re truly isolated, it’s just so much easier to mold you into the perfect version of yourself, all needy and dependent on him just as he wishes. It’s easy to get you believing things about those on the outside, using tactics like ignoring you or limiting your freedoms in order to get you caving to his desires, to get you listening and hanging on to his every word like it’s God himself speaking.

And really, Chrollo likes that imagery – that he’s your god and you’re his devoted little follower, worshipping everything he says and making him feel good, important, wanted in a way he’s never experienced before. (Although, in reality, the roles are more flipped – you’re his god, the one thing he comes crawling back to no matter the situation, his unending devotion to you rooted so deeply inside him that not even his soul is unaffected by you. He’s written poetry about the idea, entertaining it through writing, but he’s always quick to rip the pages out and crumple them, not enjoying the uncomfortable sense of truth in the words.)

So while Chrollo’s feelings for you do resemble love in some ways, his methods and expression very much doesn’t – he’s not afraid to lie t you in order to receive the results that he wants, and really, it’s best not to bother fighting him. He will prevail, no matter how to try and keep your head on straight, and it’s just easier for the both of you to not try, to not attempt to make sense of the mixture of lies and truth he feeds you. It’ll save you both time and energy, and Chrollo would really, really appreciate your cooperation – you’re cute when you’re being defiant, but it grows old.

And while Chrollo would never lose interest in you, he’s not above making you believe that he has – if it gets you obeying and letting him rest his hand on your hip (dipping down to firmly grip and squeeze at your thigh too, if he’s lucky), Chrollo will do anything it takes, no matter how depraved or violent.

Anything at all.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Chrollo, while liking to view himself as being above other men, is only human. He’s still a man, one with an intense, disgusting obsession with you, and the moment that your attention is threatened, the human side of Chrollo becomes very apparent.

It’s difficult to look at him and see it, but internally he’s simmering with jealousy every time another man approaches you, to the point where it becomes difficult to focus on anything else except you, except the way that you’re looking at someone else, talking with them and breathing the same air as them. It’s horrible, and even more so than the idea that you’ll be stolen away from another man, Chrollo doesn’t like the fact that this scum thinks he has to right to even be in your presence.

You’re perfect, in Chrollo’s eyes, and he hates the fact that others get to be around you so freely, even when that privilege is something should belong to him and him only. It angers him how other men don’t seem to understand that you’re already taken and claimed, your fate decided the moment Chrollo decides he wants you.

You’re better than everyone else, a breed above, and he's always just a bit worried that you’ll somehow be tainted by talking with other men, like your perfection will become marred when others look at you.

So, Chrollo does what he feels he must – he must interfere, even if getting closer and closer to the scene has his heart pounding, anger swimming through his veins in amounts he’s never, ever experienced. It’s cathartic, in a way, to have such sudden bursts of emotion, but as his dark gaze focuses on you, he decides that what you make him feel, all the warmth and dizziness and disorientation, is much better than the jealousy sitting heavily in his gut.

He’ll, of course, take his time; he’s opportunistic and wont’ simply waste the chance to further build his positive image in your mind, but waiting is absolute torture. He’s digging his nails into his palms with every moment he’s forcing himself to wait, dark gaze unblinking as he stares at the two of you, mentally berating the man and thinking of the thousands of ways he could torture and kill him. And once he thinks it’s finally, finally time, he’s not wasting a moment and approaching the two of you as fast as he can. It's easy to enter into the conversation, picking up something the man has said.

His voice is smooth and sure, a complete contrast from the stranger attempted to pick you up – your head turns sharply when you hear him, relief flashing over your features at a semi familiar face.

He’s maybe a regular at a café or diner you enjoy – you’ve seen him around, chatted lightly a few times, only really knowing his name and a few of the books he’s always reading.

And while Chrollo knows this, he can’t help the way his heart practically soars when he sees how visibly relieved you are for his presence. His fingers twitch with the intention of reaching out and cupping your cheek, but he refrains himself.

The man, however, doesn’t seem nearly as pleased by his sudden arrival – he’s scowling slightly, brows tucked inwards as he growls out sorry, but we’re having a private conversation.

Your relieved and awed expression suddenly returns to a grim and fearful one, and internally Chrollo feels his anger flare. His face is still neutral, however, as he responds carefully and calmly that he’s making you obviously uncomfortable, and it’s the chivalrous thing to do when I see a woman being harassed. The man splutters slightly, shocked at Chrollo’s forwardness.

He tries to argue back, claiming you were answering his questions, being polite, so evidently you must have wanted him, right?

You’re unimpressed, shrinking back further away from the man and instead subtly getting closer to Chrollo, something he notes with a distinct sense of pleasure. Chrollo doesn’t let up, however, continuing to inform the man that you don’t want to be there, that you aren’t really interested when he offers to show you his apartment that he swears is the best thing you’ll ever see.

You’re grateful, and as weak and lame as it makes you feel to have Chrollo fighting this particular battle for you, you’re glad he showed up. He always seems to show up, really, just when you need him – it’s almost magic, you think, how he seems to know when you need help. The image of him as your savior makes your cheeks feel warm, the girlish thought embarrassing but oddly accurate.

 Eventually the man leaves, huffing and muttering under his breath about how you weren’t even all that pretty anyways, and Chrollo feels his eye twitch, a small flick of the wrist inserting just a bit of nen into his shoulder.

Not enough for the man to feel it, but just enough so that he can keep track of his whereabouts. You’re immediately thanking him profusely, embarrassed about how inept you’d seemed, some small part of you hoping you didn’t look as pathetic as you felt.

But he doesn’t seem to mind – if anything, he’s silent, allowing your rambling to continue on, those dark eyes meeting yours and holding your gaze. It’s intense, but as your voice dies off after the fifth ‘thank you’, he only softly smiles.

Of course, his voice is low and nearly demure, making a shiver roll down your spine, it’s no trouble at all. I’d help you out anytime you need me.

He can tell you’re flustered, and while he wants nothing more than to revel in the sight of you looking bashful, twiddling with your thumbs and stumbling over your words, he knows he has to leave. He needs to leave, really, so that he can check over his book of nen, flipping to the page where that the location of that piece of scum that had bothered you was.

He bids you farewell with a twinkle in his eye, looking over his shoulder as he turns and walks away. You look so pretty, standing there and staring at him, trying to hide the way your mouth gapes open, and Chrollo bites his lip ever so slightly, closing his eyes and reveling in the way his chest feels all warm and airy from just the sight of you. Soon he’s turning off the street where it had all happened, immediately stepping into an alleyway and flipping open the book.

The nen signature leads him to a dingy apartment – surely not the beauty he’d been boasting to you about – and Chrollo nearly snorts as he sees the man throwing back his head, drowning the beer bottle in hand. No one else is in the apartment, he finds as he slips through the front door, which is ideal. He’s quick to conjure up his giant nen fish, a smile slowly spreading across his lips as the man suddenly freezes, unable to move as a fish moves to nibble at a toe, teeth biting and crunching through bone.

It doesn’t take long – maybe ten minutes or so, but Chrollo enjoys every moment of watching the man slowly get eaten alive, those dark eyes wide and excited. It’s euphoric, really, and as he remembers the way the man had nearly had the audacity to touch you, to touch what was Chrollo’s, he can’t stop himself from chuckling slightly.

It’s only after the fact, once all is said and done, that he notices his hands are shaking, his cheeks a bit sore from smiling for such a long period of time. It’s only then that he hears how his heartbeat is loud in his ears, blood pounding as the excitement and satisfaction of seeing the sofa now empty, not a spec of blood ruining the upholstery.

He wishes he could have killed him by his own hand, perhaps stabbed him a few times, burned him alive, maybe even drowned him – but this is better, because now when you watch the news you won’t see some horrible, mangled body.

And once he’s stolen you away, it’s better if you don’t see the gruesome ways that he’s killed – how will you continue to look at him with such adoration and love in your eyes if you do? And Chrollo couldn’t stand to not have you gaze at him with anything short of fondness, admiration, desperation.

He closes the man’s apartment door, making sure to lock it, before tapping into the nen wedge lodged into your own shoulder – seems you’re walking home now. Perhaps you’d like some company from the shadows.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Chrollo is extremely methodical with his approach towards seducing you.

He’s careful to present himself as a gentleman, a classically chivalrous man with his dark features and smooth voice. He’s never tried to genuinely make someone develop feelings for him before – it’s only ever been for a job or to place someone into the palm of his hand, but with you it’s different.

He’s actively trying everything he can think of to make you like him, pouring through romance novels to find common themes, trying all manner of approaches and tactics so that you’ll only associate him with happiness and nerves.

And frankly, Chrollo will absolutely get you falling for him. By the time that he feels he’s ready to steal you away, you’ve probably developed a massive crush on him, your feelings strong and difficult to ignore. Really, you can’t be blamed – he’s a master manipulator, and while his romantic experience is dismal, it’s not so hard to find out your favorite flower and leave a bouquet at your door. It’s not so difficult to send expensive perfumes or jewelry to you, attached with a note detailing what it is about the piece that makes him think of you.

You’ll nearly be in love, something that he’s worked extremely hard to cultivate. It hasn’t been easy, holding off all this time. There’s been more opportunities than he can count where he could’ve so easily swept you into his arms and took off into the night, never to have you seen again by anyone but himself.

He’s had to physically restrain himself more often than he’d care to admit from reaching out and grabbing you, tucking you so tightly against his chest that you can’t breath as he boards the airship, the Troupe standing guard outside your new bedroom to make sure you don’t get any funny ideas. You’re laughably weak compared to him, and while it sometimes causes Chrollo to worry for your safety, it’s ultimately an asset to him.

Because now that you’re completely under the impression that Chrollo is the perfect man for you, it’s all so much easier to relocate you without a fuss. It all happens much faster than Chrollo had expected, however – all too soon you’re seeing blurry images on the television news one night, the cereal you’d been eating forgotten as you take in the familiar earrings, the dark eyes, the forehead tattoo he’s always written off as a family tattoo.

You’re in shock, eyes wide as you listen to the anchor list off the multitudes of crimes the Troupe has been accused of, and for a moment you refuse to believe it’s true. That’s not Chrollo – not your Chrollo, the man who picks you up at 7:00 sharp for the dinner date he’s reserved at the fanciest restaurant in town.

That’s not your Chrollo, the man who opens doors for you and pulls out your chair, almost placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through large crowds. He could never murder someone – could never be the cause of the some hundreds of lost lives the TV claims he’s responsible for.

But then you hear a sigh, that familiar voice murmuring out that it’s really all just so unfortunate, I was hoping to gain your favor a bit more. Alas, the façade is up, I’ll make sure to pack that sweatshirt you love so much. Please, love, don’t struggle too much. There’s a pinprick in your neck, those dark eyes the last thing you see before blackness surrounds you. Chrollo can only mournfully look down at you, having caught your unconscious body in his arms.

It’s a good opportunity to run his fingers over your lips, to trace the shape of your nose, to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to your forehead. It was inevitable, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me eventually. We’re made for one another, after all.

Once you’re trapped with him, a few things will become very apparent to you very quickly. Firstly, Chrollo is a criminal – the dashing man you thought you knew is not real, his true personality slipping out almost immediately. He’s no longer attempting to hide the reality of his work, discussing new jobs and elimination plans over the phone in the same room as you, not mincing words when he tells the mystery man to make it messy, the more blood the better.

Second, he’s a very important man. He’s constantly being phone called, stepping out for this or that meeting, making decisions you don’t even understand. The very few people he’s ever let you meet almost seem to revere him, unconditionally bowing to his word and only addressing him as Boss.

Third, he’s much stronger than you’d realized, the odd pressure he seems to radiate growing and ebbing at various points in the day. You’d seen the way he’s merely flicked his wrist and a man that had seen the handcuffs initially around you was suddenly headless, sliced clean off without so much as a sound.

Lastly, Chrollo Lucilfer is desperate. Despite being kidnapped, forced to jump from hotel room to hotel room firmly attached at his hip, there’s never been a lull in the way that he demands your attention. There’s never been a free moment where he’s not looking at you, that same small smile quirking on his lips that used to fluster you but now only makes your gut twist. He’s always asking you questions – some are easy, surface level and don’t require effort on your part. He’s asking what your favorite color is, what your favorite breakfast foods are, if you prefer to wake up early or sleep in.

(He already know the answers, but he likes hearing you say it.)

Some are more difficult, making you consider your words before you speak them. He’s asking you whether you’ve ever dreamed of what your wedding venue will look like (he of course pushes for details, mentally noting everything and imagining it alongside you), what you would name a pet cat (either solid black or solid white fur, you pick), asking you to jot down a few of your favorite songs so that he can compile a playlist for you, as you have limited electronic access (the playlist is really for him, so that when he’s away on missions he can still feel like he’s with you, but that’s besides the point).

And then there’s the ‘why’ questions – these are the hardest, his eyes boring into you as he asks you why you claim to love your friends, why you’re fighting him so hard, why you think life itself even exists. They make you think, and while you don’t want to answer, Chrollo will keep pushing and pushing and pushing, using your words against you and slowly taking away any privileges you’ve managed to earn.

It’s not worth the fight that ensues if you ignore any of his questions, so you’ll answer as succinctly as possible, choosing your words carefully and watching for his reactions. Mostly, he just likes to hear your voice – knowing there’s no one else in the room, so you’re talking to him and only him, thinking of ways to respond to what he asked you.

He likes to know your opinion on things, each and every word you utter only furthering his fascination with you, contradictions in your thoughts popping up right and left. Mostly, as a captor, Chrollo is really just omnipresent. He’s always there, dark eyes trained on you and listening to every little thing you say, watching every little thing you do, commenting on what feels like every thought you have.

It’s exhausting, the way he’s constantly hovering, the way he’s constantly on the look out for any kind of interaction with him, and at first you’ll find yourself growing tired, afraid, frantic to be alone.

You’ll eventually explode, yelling at him and telling him to leave you alone, to disappear, to just get away from me, you monster! He’s silent as your words sink in, his face carefully neutral, before he laughs softly, shaking his head a bit.

If that’s what you wish, he’ll ominously tell you, walking out the hotel room door and locking it behind him. It’s wonderful, the first few hours without him – finally some time to yourself, to really cry or scream or just ponder your new life.

But after a day or two passes, thing start changing – you don’t like Chrollo, you promise, but it’s sort of lonely without him. The hotel room is big but empty, his missing presence louder than the silence. You’ll slowly find yourself starting to miss him, wishing he’d come back and continue asking those stupid questions of his, to brush his fingers against your cheeks and thighs, to gaze at you with that deranged but enamored look in his eye.

By day five, you’re frantic for him to come back, taking to sitting in the corner and staring at the door, persuading yourself that he’ll have to return sometime, that eventually he’ll come back to you, that he won’t just leave you alone to die.

And when he does, ten days after leaving you fully alone (minus the cameras placed in the room), he’s shocked to feel the way you rush in for a hug as the door swings open. You’re wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest, and Chrollo can’t help but blink widely down at you, lips parted but no sounds coming out. He knew the loneliness was getting to you, but you’d never initiated physical contact like this before. Was it an act of desperation, or was it because you were missing him?

 Did you ache for human contact, or did you ache for his contact?

He’s not sure, but he finds himself humming and returning the gesture, letting a hand pet your hair as he asks you if you missed him, if you’d gotten lonely, if you’d like to lay down for a bit with him. You’re not as clingy after you pull away from the hug, but Chrollo doesn’t care – you lay with him, a good two feet of space between your bodies, but it’s progress.

You’re more open after that, not flinching away and snapping at him when he reaches out to touch you. Instead, you’re almost leaning into his touch, enjoying it – which leads to another key aspect of being Chrollo’s captive; the touching.

He’s not invasive with it in the beginning, but as time passes you’ll notice the way his hand is always lingering at your waist, his fingers drumming against your skin. You’ll realize he’s always shuffling closer to your body, dissatisfied with the space between you. You’ll get used to the way he asks for a kiss before you both fall into slumber, his arms snaking around your middle and pulling you back against his chest as he sighs into your ear.

The rational side of you is enraged, disgusted by his attempts at romantic and intimate touches, but a part of you that grows larger with every passing day stops caring, slowly accepting that Chrollo is all you have left now, and that you should take advantage of every ounce of affection he’s willing to show you. It may not be real (though the obsession that gleams in his eyes certainly is, as is the blood that sometimes stains his pale chest when he returns home from a few days away), but it’s something.

It’s enough that you can almost overlook the way he keeps you trapped in the hotel rooms, stuck by his side, with only your books and himself to entertain you. You can almost forget the way he’s freely admitted to killing for you, nonchalantly threating family members if you try to escape, telling you he’ll hear about anything and everything you do because nothing can hide from him.

Eventually, you’ll stop caring – your life is easier now, all the stress and worries of independence gone, and Chrollo couldn’t be more pleased that you’re settling down, or mellowing, as he likes to say. You’re closer to realizing your true purpose with him – to continue to give him that warmth he craves, to continue to let him kiss and hold you, to let him steal every ounce of your attention and time.

He’s a thief after all, and now that you’re his, he’s entitled to take whatever he wants.

PUNISHMENTS:

While Chrollo is, overall, a somewhat lenient captor, he does have a few strict guidelines.

Firstly, you are to never ignore him. To ignore him would mean a rejection of his feelings for you, and while Chrollo is normally a cool, level-headed man, the second you even encroach on any actions that could be considered a rejection of a his love, of him, he’s clenching his jaw and doing his best to not lash out, keeping his temper and check and calculating ways to make you recognize the consequences of your actions.

Secondly, do not try to escape. He’s lucid enough to understand that once you’ve first been kidnapped, you’re likely to try everything in your power to escape. It doesn’t matter how deeply your feelings for him have formed – it’s only human nature to not enjoy being trapped, which is why he’ll have to train you, to make sure that you correctly acclimate to your new life with him, to your new future.

And lastly, you must never attempt to hurt him. Of course, you could never do any real damage, but the sentiment will hurt him more than he’d care to admit – by reaching out and wishing him harm, you are, once again, rejecting him. You’re displaying a desire to wound him, and he absolutely cannot have you thinking that you’re in any position of power or control in your relationship with him.

(You are, of course, because Chrollo’s dependence on you is really quite pathetic and sad, but you won’t be aware of the depth of his feelings for you until very, very late into your time with him. He’s good at hiding this, if only because letting you see him vulnerable would mean letting you have a sliver of control over him, a concept that terrifies him to his very core.)

Those three things are really the only ways to set Chrollo off – he’s generally pretty adaptable, able to read you like a clock and understanding what you’re thinking merely by watching your facial expressions, and because of this he won’t often punish you. He doesn’t like the idea of disciplining you, instead preferring to simply manipulate you into thinking and feeling the way he wants you to. But, if any of the three rules are breached, Chrollo finds himself resorting to more extreme measures, doing what he feels is necessary to garner the results he’s looking for.

Even so, he won’t ever rely upon physical means to punish you – he doesn’t like the idea of you being injured or hurt, and it would be a hassle to mend the damage hurting you would cause.

So, Chrollo defaults to more manipulative measures, punishments he knows will leave you crying and terrified, inflicting more psychological rather than physical damage. It’s the only way he can get what he wants, after all, and Chrollo has always been determined to get his way – even at the expense of you, his most prized possession.

When you’re staring at him with such hard, pained eyes, it almost makes him feel bad for a moment. Almost, if only because your words are replaying in his head, the tone and wavering in your voice making pause for a brief moment.

You’d said you hated him, that he was a monster, that you were unhappy being with him. It was all things Chrollo had already known, of course, but it certainly didn’t feel good to hear them come from you, nonetheless.

He just sighs, looking at you with that same belittled, heavy gaze, telling you to calm down, darling, don’t say things you don’t mean.

This just angers you more, it seems, because soon you’re nearly screaming, throwing a pillow or two at him as you yell that you’re not lying, you sick fuck! I hate you, I will never love you, I will never need you! Please, you have to let me go, I can’t stand being with you any longer!

What you’re saying isn’t even particularly harsh – he’s heard much, much worse from his victims over the years, searing words insulting his intelligence, his appearance, his morals, his past, everything and anything. And yet, there’s something about hearing the words coming from you that makes him flounder a bit, a sinking feeling in his gut making him stand up straight, appraising your shaking, heaving form across the room. It’s silent for a few long moments, before he simply adjust his jacket, pulling the lapels slightly and turning his back to you. Very well then, if that’s how you feel. As you wish, my dear.

And with that, he’s slipping out the hotel door, disappearing to who knows where. You’re left trembling in anger, your breathing unsteady, but before you can think you’re rushing to the door, wiggling the handle violently and sucking in a sharp breath when you feel that it’s unlocked, practically begging you to throw it open and leave this godforsaken hotel room.

As you rush away, sprinting down staircases and down never-ending hallways, you’ll distantly know that this is probably a trap. Chrollo wouldn’t just let you go, you’re sure, especially with such suspicious time. But you can’t stop yourself from taking advantage of the opportunity, deciding that even if it is a trap, the few brief moments of freedom that you’ll have will be enough to warrant it all.

And yet, as you push through the front doors and take a look around the busy, bustling street you’ve stumbled upon, you nearly sob. You have no idea where you are, the landmarks totally unfamiliar, but you’re free, feeling the sunlight on your skin without Chrollo’s presence pressed into your side, his cold fingers pushing into your hip or shoulder. You don’t have any money and have no idea where to go, but your legs are moving faster than you can think, wandering through the city along back roads and side streets.

Hours quickly pass by, exhaustion beginning to settle into your bones as the sun dips back behind the horizon, leaving the city in shadows and quiet aside from the hum of cars and the bustle of city goers. It’s only once you’re stumbling through an alley that you hear it – him, to be specific.

At least, you’re pretty sure it’s a man – the footsteps are obviously trying to be quiet, but they’re not doing a good enough job to go unnoticed by you. He’s breathing loudly, too, and as you glance over your shoulder, eyes wide and scared, you don’t see anyone.

You’re sure there’s someone there, that they’ve followed you down this alleyway, and as you press your back against the slightly wet brick wall of the building behind you, you feel your heart practically about to beat out of your chest.

Who was there?

 It’s silent for a moment, before a short laugh is barked out, the man emerging from behind a dumpster. Shadow falls over his face, making it impossible to see his face, but you do see his size. He’s a monster of a man, bulky shoulders easily above your head, muscles bulging along his arms and under his pants. A wild bed of hair sits atop his head, and you feel yourself freeze, fear eating away at your heart.

You can’t move as the man comes closer, face still hidden in the darkness, and it’s only when he comes down to punch at your stomach do you realize what’s about to happen, panic engulfing your senses as his fist comes closer and closer and closer – It sucks the air right out of  your lungs, making you wheeze and gasp for breath, knees slamming into the concrete below you as you gasp and struggle to regain your breath.

The man laughs, a timber, horrible sound, but stops abruptly at the distant sound of sirens. He curses under his breath, and you feel his eyes on you, daring to look up at him in between your fits of coughing.

You’re lucky, bitch, he starts, voice gravelly as he begins backing up. Next time I’ll get you, the cops won’t be coming and I’ll show you why weak little things like you shouldn’t be in alleyways late at night – makes it hard for me to resist ya, and I think you’d look even better without that ugly ass nightgown you’ve got on.

And with that, he’s sprinting down the alley, running away even as the sirens get further and further away. You’re left to lay on the cold, wet ground, having regained your breath but letting tears stream down your face. You don’t want to admit it, but you’d been hoping that Chrollo would magically appear, just like he always does. You’d hoped that he would’ve stopped the stranger’s punch, that he would’ve saved you just like he used to.

The thought of Chrollo makes you flinch, but you can’t stop yourself from wondering if maybe he was right. Maybe he’s right that you can’t take care of yourself, that you’re too weak for this world, that you’re better off with a monster like him (quoted directly from him, with that signature smirk of his) rather than the everyday men.

You curl up, knees to your chest for a while, before your up again, wandering and trying to retrace your steps back to the hotel you’d run out of only hours ago. Eventually you’ll make it back, and as you wait in the lobby, rubbing at your now dirty and bruised body, your eyes will flick across every person entering and exiting, before you begrudgingly make your way to the elevator, riding up tot eh floor you knew your room was on.

It takes everything in you to knock on the door – his door, but eventually you do. And when he opens it, a small hello trickling past his lips, you can’t help but let out an ugly, gaspy sob, rushing forward and wrapping your arms around him. It feels horrible, disgusting, so very good to feel how he returns the hug, gently patting your back and smoothing down your hair, a soft hello my dear making your shoulders shake.

He won’t ask too many questions, letting you inside and nearly forcing you into the shower, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Even when he’s got you wearing a fresh set of soft, lounging clothing (with a neckline just a bit too low to cover your collarbone, something his eyes are often drawn to), you can’t find it in yourself to ask. He’s talking to you, after all, asking you if you enjoyed your time in the real world, if it was as grand as you’d hoped.

 His eyes are twinkling, and although the apology you offer up isn’t as loud or insistent as he’d hoped for, it still makes him smile, his throat bobbing as he loudly swallows.

The conversation is over for the evening, and it’s only after you fall asleep (in his bed, he notes with a somewhat shy smile and a shaky exhale) that he pulls out his phone, pressing the contact name and smiling at the dial tone.

Thank you, Uvogin, he starts, letting a hand run very lightly over your leg under the sheets. This favor won’t be forgotten.

OVERALL DANGER:

9/10

The thing that makes Chrollo a dangerous yandere is less his violent tendencies, and more of the way you nearly won’t recognize yourself after being with him for long enough.

Of course, he loves you – a sick, messy, disgusting love that he quickly grows addicted to. He finds you irresistible, fascinating and growing drunk off the way your body fits with him, but he’s still a criminal. He’s still a mass murderer, singlehandedly responsible for the deaths of more than he can count, and he will not be suddenly listening to commonplace morals once his feelings for you form.

There’s no such thing as bad to him – he views you as his woman, his partner and his most precious, cherished possession, and as a result he has absolutely no qualms about doing what he wants to you. He’s manipulative, lying to you just as often as he tells the truth, making you feel as if you’re going crazy because you have no idea what’s real and what’s fake.

He’s possessive, slowly isolating you and barring you from any contact at all with anyone he deems a threat to your future with him, or anyone at all, really. He doesn’t want you to grow feelings for another man, and has no issues with cutting off your contact with everyone in your life that you hold dear. He’s always got that same look on his face; a small, prideful smile, his dark eyes so impossibly wide and sparkling as he stares at you, every ounce of his attention focused on you and only you.

He’s terrifying, and while you’ll more than likely develop feelings for him before you know of his true self, you’ll begrudgingly find those feelings doesn’t entirely dissolve even once you know that he’s a crook and a perverted, horrible man who’s stolen you away. You’ll probably still find him charming, still thinking his hair looks soft enough to touch, still finding his hands (littered with a fair share of veins) drool worthy, even when you realize how many have likely died because of them.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but you will eventually find yourself growing just as dependent on Chrollo as he is on you – and really, that’s exactly what he wants. He wants you to need him, to yearn for him and crave him, if only because he feels all that for you and more, and he needs to make sure he has you under his thumb, so that your pretty smile and lovely voice and heavenly body are never not by side.

Things would grow ugly if you were to ever be snatched away from him, corpses piling up and his own sanity slipping away until he can hold you in his arms once more, pressing his lips messily, desperately against yours, hearing you say his name with that lilt you always do.

Chrollo needs you, and it’s best if you just give in – you may essentially be ending your own life, but you’re giving meaning to his and saving so many others. So, so many others.

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly. 

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[hugsandchaos]

Ideas and scenarios for if Eudaemon was swapped so that the Links ended up in Danny’s universe

•Danny was hanging around one of his favorite spots, an abandoned observatory (which is not his haunt!!), when he saw a dark purple portal. He’d never seen a portal that wasn’t green, so this was very alarming. As he approached, Legend came out.

•Or, let’s say it was late and Danny wanted to check on his abandoned observatory and found the nine heroes. One of them was awake, so he kinda just approached in ghost form and was like “What are you doing in my house?”. After the old man, who was apparently nicknamed Time, explained how he and his group followed a shadow monster through a portal (which was strange, but okay), and seeing how the weather forecast predicted heavy rain soon, Danny was okay with them staying and invited Time and his group somewhere better suited in the building than the large room with cracked glass ceilings. He got some extra blankets from where he stored them and left a first aid kit with the group as well.

•Over the next few weeks, Danny would try to guide the group in ghost form and help them out. After all, this shadow monster could certainly cause some serious trouble for him. It’s not necessarily exhausting, but he already has so much on his plate, and now this? He’s usually pretty tired when they see him.

•The real trouble comes when they try to help out in ghost fights and meet him in human form. He appreciates the help, but they don’t have the right gear and knowledge yet! And he can’t let them figure out that he’s half ghost! He understood they have a strong sense of justice pretty quickly, and he absolutely dreads the thought of them trying to defend Danny, but only making things worse by getting the attention of ghost hunters.

•Danny teaching the Links hand-to-hand combat, gets sword lessons in return.

•Danny telling them that if they bring Wolfie out in public, they have to say he’s a husky or Alaskan malamute or animal control will be called. Wolfie doesn’t have to wear a collar, they can just say he’s chipped.

•Danny teaching them ghost stuff.

•The group gets a ghost guide!

And my favorite?

Danny gets shot out of the sky by his parents or other ghost hunters and the chains sees it. They rush to him and defend him from the ghost hunters. Bonus points if it’s the Fentons trying to capture “the ghost kid”, and tell the group that ghosts are evil and yada yada, and the chain hits them with logical questions and tells them about how they showed up to his house uninvited and he helped them rather than kick them out or attack them.

I desperately need the Links figuring Danny out and interrogating him about why he’s letting himself go on like this.

[doberbutts]

You've spoken some about the dammage being done by breeding all breeds for a similar temperment. I feel like I've seen this too, people want a dog for the look and then want all dogs to just be companions. Are you willing to talk more about why we don't want all breeds to be chill companion dogs?

Well, I'm not really sure if I don't think all breeds should be chill companion dogs, but I do think all dogs aren't correct being so.

You have to understand, we domesticated dogs not just for companionship but also to help us accomplish tasks. And sometimes, the temperament that helps us accomplish these tasks... make it more difficult for the dog to be a do-nothing couch pet that gets maybe a walk on the weekends. It's not a bad thing, necessarily. Different strokes, different folks. But it does mean that trying to force dogs which are bred to not do that to fit into that mold is not really feasible if we also want the dogs to be able to continue doing the job we asked them to do.

A friend of mine had a great pyr, who she got from someone who kept their dogs the way pyrs are traditionally kept. Outside, with the sheep, guarding the flocks with their livestock guardian bond day and night. She got this dog as a puppy. This dog grew into an adult that was absolutely miserable in the house. Everyone's lives got a lot easier when they fenced their lot and gave the dog the option to be in or out during the day. Suddenly, the dog's annoying and destructive behavior (largely barking and also trying to get outside) disappeared practically overnight when he discovered he could just. Go outside. She had no sheep, she lived halfway to the middle of nowhere, and he was usually found just hanging out on their back porch watching the world go by around him. Occasionally barking if a car came down their driveway (like my mom's car, to drop me off at her house, because we were kids).

The problem is that the thing that makes them really, really good at guarding the sheep can also sometimes make them not so good at being house pets that sleep on the couch. He did not want to sleep on the couch. He wanted to sit outside and watch for predators so that his "sheep"- the humans inside the house- could be protected by him. To take this urge away from him, would also make him be bad at guarding sheep.

I have a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog. They, too, were bred to hang out outside all day, helping with various chores as their humans worked on the farm. Sushi's favorite activity is, you guessed it, following me around the yard as I pull weeds and rake up sticks and take a hedge trimmer to my never ending war with woody invasives. She loves when I take her to her breeder's house to chase the sheep or pull the wagon. She goes absolutely bananas in my car when we pull up to a hiking spot to go climb a mountain that day. These are things that make her a good mountain dog.

Now I actually think that Swissies are slept on but otherwise great pet dogs if their needs are met, but I have been part of swissy pet groups ever since getting Sushi and I can see when people have problems with their Swissies as a direct result of their needs not being met. Once again, barking and destruction from boredom. Dogs that throw around their body weight with zero regard to the humans involved. Dogs that refuse to recall, or that make their owners chase them down to come inside. Pulling like a freight train on leash. Chasing down and nipping at running children. These are behaviors that, while annoying in their worst forms, are often stemming directly from instincts that make them good at the job they were meant to do.

Sushi doesn't do any of those things- but then Sushi gets to do fun things that are mountain dog adjacent, so she is able to be a mountain dog without being a bad pet.

As long as we want to have dogs that have jobs, we will also have dogs that maybe don't belong in the hands of those who want chill companions. And, similarly, as long as people's idea of a pet is the most low effort dog ownership possible and anything even slightly more difficult is too much to ask, breeding these working dogs to not work will only result in dogs that can no longer work.

[alsofrozenjokes]

obligatory wing preening fic

Grian was molting.

He had been for the past week, and in that time Scar had hardly seen him at all. Not that he was too disappointed, really, Cub had said that Grian got moody during molts, and given that ‘moody’ seemed to be a default for Grian, Scar was in no hurry to see that.

Though, maybe that was unfair. Grian had a reason to be upset after he’d told Scar he was going to do better, Scar’s fault, one hundred percent, he knew that, though.. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure when he could have spilt that big of a secret, especially when Grian was.. interested.. in his alter ego, but regardless, he had a reason to be upset! Scar understood! But lately Grian had been nice. He’d been lovely, really. Scar just loved being HotGuy with CuteGuy, even in a time where he was struggling to love any version of himself at all, where he resented every alter ego that stopped him from being Scar, that kept him from knowing who ‘Scar’ was. He still didn’t know, truthfully. He had very little idea, but he felt like he might be getting closer when he was with Cub in his apartment, hanging out, laughing, laying on each other..

But Grian had been nice. Scar didn’t go very much out of his way to see him outside of work, but he didn’t necessarily feel the need. Grian didn’t go much of anywhere, so he was always around when Scar was with Cub, teasing, chatting with Cub about chores, pretending that whatever he and Scar had wasn’t extremely strained and awkward. Though, in a way, pretending made it more real, and when they were superheroes, they were hardly pretending at all anymore, fighting crime and being awesome and loved by all.

Apparently though, Grian had somewhat irregular molts, and this made him moody and itchy and generally antisocial according to Cub. And respectfully, if that information was coming from Cub, Scar wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Though, the sentiment did live equally with Scar’s sympathy. Apparently Grian shed most of his feathers all at once, leaving sections of bald spots and itching as the pins grew in. He had a history of plucking as well, a desperate attempt to speed up the process according to Cub, but that really made things worse, and Grian had to wear covers to help curb the temptation, even when he was home. Apparently they had all sorts of wing sweaters, which Scar thought was adorable, a suspicion that was confirmed when Cub sent him a picture.

Grian did not look happy in the picture. He also didn’t look like he knew it was being taken. Scar wouldn’t be snitching, that was for sure. Anyway, all of this was the reason that Scar was petrified at a text from Cub in a groupchat with Grian.

‘Do you want to come over?’ Scar said yes before the second text came through.

‘This is the height of Grian’s molt, and it’s about now I help get rid of the keratin sheaths.’

‘My favorite time of the year :)’

Grian butted in immediately, ‘Glad someone’s having a good time.’

‘I am.’ Cub didn’t miss a beat. Scar put his phone down before either of them could say anything more. Was this- was Cub inviting him over to preen Grian’s wings? Well, maybe they were both inviting him, Grian was on the groupchat, and he didn’t say anything.. Maybe molting was different from preening? Though the way Cub said it, it certainly sounded like he planned on touching them. Touching Grian’s wings, oh god, yeah, Scar was not doing that, he’d been hit in the face enough times to know how this would go down.

But he said he’d go. Cub was expecting him and Grian- well, Grian probably didn’t care much either way, but Cub was expecting him! He had to go!

But what to do for an avian that was molting.. Scar didn’t know many avians. He didn’t know much about the species at all. They had wings. He knew that. And lots of sharp bits. Lots of sharp bits. Eugh. Maybe he should bring a peace offering? Flowers? People liked flowers. Avians were people. Birds probably also liked flowers. Maybe if Scar brought a bouquet of flowers and stood quietly in the corner of the room there would be minimal violence. Peace offering. Oh! And waffles! Frozen waffles, Grian liked those! Yes, perfect, this would be perfect.

Scar didn’t see Cub’s face when he opened the door behind the massive bouquet of flowers and waffles he was holding, but he could imagine it wasn’t anything less than positively thrilled! Despite his impaired vision, he knew the apartment well enough by now to navigate to the coffee table by the couch, however that didn’t stop Cub from fretting over him, pulling him in the right direction and generally being adorable.

“Scar- this really wasn’t necessary-“ Cub tried, but Scar waved him off in a grand gesture.

“It was no problem at all! Everyone needs a little pick me up, especially when they’re feeling under the weather.”

“He’s not sick, Scar.”

“He might not be, but you’re injured!” Scar turned on Cub, only half teasing, “Look at you in that mysterious cast with that mysterious broken arm, you might never recover!” Scar set the flowers down, humming as he passed off the plastic bags of frozen waffles to Cub.

“Doctor said I’ll be fine in two more weeks. The healing is faster with..” Cub trailed off, looking into one of the bags, “These aren’t going to fit in our freezer.”

“It won’t heal if you’re cursed! And you very well might be cursed! I wouldn’t know! You won’t tell anyone how it happened!” Scar stopped when Grian snorted a soft chuckle, noticing him for the first time.

“I’m not dying, Scar. Ya goof.” Grian hunched himself up on his arms from his place on the floor where he’d presumably been laying face down on a pillow and blanket. He was shirtless, wings splayed out behind him- wings- oh god he looked terrible! “What’s in the bags?”

“Grian! You look like a porcupine! What happened? Your- Where-“

Cub groaned while Grian laughed, letting his head drop back on his pillow. Scar was startled when Cub yanked his arm, “Scar, I told you he’s molting. Don’t be a dick.”

“I- I didn’t-“

“It’s fine, Cub,” Grian huffed a laugh, shaking his head, “I know I look like a half-plucked chicken. Or a porcupine, whatever. Most avians don’t shed so many feathers at once, Scar, but molts are never pretty.”

“You look, fine, Grian,” Cub insisted, but Grian wasn’t having it,

“I’ve lost so many feathers that I can’t even fly. I look diseased. I know it and you know it and Scar knows it. Right, Scar?”

Scar startled, caught stuttering between a wolf and a bear, both of whom were staring at him intently, “He- just a little. Maybe a little sickly, a little-“ he stopped when Cub patted his shoulder, rolling his eyes. Still, Scar bit his lip, glancing back and finding his escape, “I’ll put these away! If they don’t all fit I’ll just keep the rest at my house,” he said quickly, snatching the bags of frozen waffles back from Cub and retreating over the couch to the small kitchen.

“Wait, what’s in the bag-? You have a house!? Where’s your house? What’s your address? Why haven’t we been invited to your house, you’re at ours all the time!” Scar ducked away, embarrassed, but Cub seemed to have his back, answering the first question to a resounding oOooOoooOoo from Grian. Score.

Cub sat down next to Grian on the blanket and the two of them began to talk about something or another, though Scar was a little preoccupied with the freezer which.. was admittedly quite a bit smaller than he remembered. The damn thing was a pain to open as well, always getting stuck on who knows what. Yeah, he.. he was going to have to bring a couple of these boxes home. Most of them, probably. Hm. Did he have room in his freezer for this many waffles? Oh dear.

When Scar tuned back into the conversation behind him, he was pretty sure Cub and Grian were speculating about his house and all the rich people stuff he had in it, which, quite honestly, was not a topic of conversation Scar wanted to indulge in, so instead he stood stiff in the kitchen, vainly hoping he’d be forgotten about and Cub would finish preening Grian’s wings and everything would be fine.

“Hey, Scar? Whatcha doing?” Darn. Busted. Cub looked up from where he was sitting at Grian’s side, wing in lap.

“Oh! I was just watching.”

“Watching? From all the way over there?” Cub sounded amused, clearly unaware of the great danger here. Grian was laying face down, saying nothing at all.

“Yeah! Moral support and all that.” Scar gave his patented double thumbs up, though it didn’t seem to have any effect on Cub.

“I could do with some actual support. You don’t want to come see?”

“No thanks.”

Grian snorted while Cub scoffed, a sound that pierced the veil of Scar’s bleeding heart. “He doesn’t bite.”

“I do,” Grian lifted his head to say it and Cub pushed it right back down into the pillow.

“He doesn’t. He’s just itchy. You’ll make his day with a little scratching in the right place, he just melts into the floor. Just wait until we get him in the shower with the jets.” Cub tried a smile, but must have realized just how apprehensive Scar was when he didn’t budge, only shifting his weight from his place in the kitchen. The silence lingered long enough that Grian lifted his head, confused, but he let it drop again when Cub continued to work his hands through his feathers. “Let me show you how, at least. It’s cool, I promise.”

The urging, bordering on desperation, was what made Scar finally crumble. Cub wanted this, clearly he wanted this, wanted Scar to be part of it, and Scar would have trouble denying anyone in that aching state. Truly, Scar didn't know why this was so important, but the least he could do for now was to sit on the arm of the couch, cautious to keep some distance, but close enough to watch. Cub’s soft relief, radiant on his face, eased some of Scar’s anxiety.

From his perch Scar watched as Cub brought his fingers back to Grian’s wings, meticulous as he felt around the spiny little feathers. Grian relaxed under his touch, both of them quiet as Cub squeezed the spines, pulling the white bits away and revealing a brand new feather.

“These are pin feathers,” Cub said, like he knew Scar needed the reminder, “They grow in under this keratin bit, and when they’re ready it kinda crumbles off, leaving a new feather. Avians can do most of this by themselves, but molting is a bit more intense of a process when you lose so many of your feathers at once, and the parts where the wing connects with their back is a lot harder to reach. It’s nice to have a friend in all cases.”

Cub continued on, not looking at Scar as he worked. He was so gentle, touches light and calculated, never lingering. Even when he was brushing away the little white shards, he hardly touched the feathers, treating them as if each one might break with too much force. Scar was so enraptured with Cub’s hands, he hardly reacted when the other spoke again, fingers grazing a stubborn looking pin feather.

“This one’s not ready. If the shell doesn’t budge, don’t mess with it. Grian could use the reminder as well. He isn’t very patient, even when it hurts, so that’s just another reason why I’m here instead of him.”

Grian made some sort of grunt in protest, but stopped when Cub began to scratch an area of tightly clumped pin feathers, groaning into his pillow instead. The clear relief of the action pulled on Scar’s heart, Cub’s small smile doing him in completely. A mix of curiosity and longing pulled Scar from the couch, sitting with some apprehension at the tip of Grian’s other wing, though his hesitation melted at a soft, gentle glance from Grian, smile just visible from beneath the pillow.

“Won’t be able to reach me like that, Scar.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Grian snorted, rolling his eyes before turning back to being face down, wing on Scar’s side lifting just slightly before flopping back down.

“Well, if you do eventually feel like helping, you should keep a few things in mind,” Cub hummed, casual, but there was a weight there that caught Scar’s attention. “Avians have backs and shoulders that are a lot more sensitive than ours. Don’t pet. It’s akin to the sensation you might have if I ran my hand right down the middle of your back, but more intense. More.. loaded, I guess. Like if I was running a hand down your thigh, y’know?”

“I- Oh-“

“Save it for the bedroom,” Grian mumbled, continuing on to say something entirely unintelligible before piping up, “or I’ll report you to HR.”

“I’m not going to touch you!” Scar squeaked with a small jump, maybe a little too defensively, because Grian looked up, confusion, or maybe concern etching itself across his features.

“I.. I know. I mean, you can, it’s not.. This isn’t the same thing. It’s like getting poked, or having a bug brushed off your back, or- I don’t know, humans don’t necessarily have an equivalent grooming activity-“

“Brushing hair.” Cub cut in, grabbing Scar’s attention back from sparks of fear, “It’s like brushing hair. Working out the knots, parting it correctly, having it cut or dyed or blow dried or braided. It’s like hair. Like family.” Scar blinked, shoulders slackening before he nodded, tension easing.

“Yes,” Grian sighed, relaxing again, “It’s like hair.” He paused, not taking his eyes off Scar even as Cub continued working on the right wing, which looked almost finished at this point. “Have you ever grown your hair out, Scar?”

“Uh, no. I haven’t,” Scar said, feeling awkward as he ran a hand through his own hair, thin and messy as it had always been, after the accident at least. (Easier to refer to a terrorist attack as an accident, better not to think of it at all.) He never liked his hair very much. Always hard to control, hard to hide. Stressful more than anything. He couldn’t imagine it long. “It’s always been short.”

“Mine too! Honestly, it’s unruly enough as it is, and flying would be a complete nightmare with it long and everywhere.”

“You could just tie it up,” Cub suggested, “Most do, don’t they?”

“Guess so. It’s a lot of hassle though.”

Cub snorted, shaking his head, “Every part of your daily routine is more hassle than I could manage in a lifetime. I can barely find the motivation to brush my teeth most mornings, yet you’re in the bathroom for hours.”

“Cub used to have long hair,” Grian flashed Scar a grin as he changed the subject, snickering when Cub groaned. “It was fantastic. You peaked in college.”

“It was not. I was experiencing free will for the first time away from home, and I made many mistakes.”

“Do you have pictures?” Scar perked up, Grian saying yes at the same time that Cub said no. Grian sat up to grab his phone, wings raising in turn with his excitement and hitting Cub in the face while feathers brushed past Scar’s nose.

“Oops,” Grian pulled his wings back in, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all, “Let’s see here..” he started scrolling, Scar peeking over his shoulder while Cub got to his feet, moving to sit instead by Scar’s side. Cub scowled as Grian let out a squeak of delight, practically shoving a picture of the two of them together in Scar’s face. It struck Scar how young they looked, even though physically Grian didn’t look very different at all- it was a change on another level, experience, new life lived, challenges overcome. Oh! And Cub had long hair!

“Look at you and your little bun! Oh, that’s so cute!”

“It’s not.”

“It’s adorable,” Grian sang, sighing as he flipped through other pictures, “It was hot that day, we were mini golfing in the summer, but I bet I have pictures with it down as well. Went just past his shoulders, it was great. Cub has great hair, it’s thick and it was so soft when he used to take such good care of it.”

“We have different memories.”

“Ah! Look! He let me braid it this one time-“ Grian proudly presented to Scar a picture with Cub in pigtails, looking just as unhappy as the present Cub was now.

“Cute!”

“Delete that.”

“Oh! Here it is long! We were bowling, us and Mumbo- Cub was the only one who could throw the ball straight. I told him Mumbo and I needed the bumpers, but he didn’t believe me. No men have ever done it worse than us, Scar, it was just gutter after gutter. We didn't even have half the points Cub did combined.”

“I don’t think I’ve been bowling,” Scar mused to no one in particular, but shrank in on himself when Grian jumped up.

“Seriously?”

“I- no-“ Scar shrugged to deflect the high energy, a little more uncomfortable when Grian’s demeanor changed from shock to.. Scar wasn’t really sure, though he looked uncertain, glancing away with wings tucked back, “I mean, I don’t think I’ve been mini golfing either, definitely not since- I mean, I guess I probably have a few times before college, but I don’t really count it.”

“You don’t count the first eighteen years of your life?” Grian snorted, failing to notice as Scar faltered and Cub tensed, “Not sure you know what ‘Never Having Done Something Before’ means, bud.”

“I.. Yeah,” Scar mumbled, Grian blinking as he noticed for the first time something was off, “Sorry.. ‘s just different.”

Gears turned in the few seconds of silence, Grian bringing a hand (clawed, sharp) to his mouth when he finally seemed to realize. “No- It’s fine, my bad. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay.” The silence was heavy. Then, out of nowhere, Scar felt like he was suffocating, sudden, like a train had crashed off the tracks and barreled into him head on. “I- ‘xcuse me for a minute. Just need some air.”

Scar never felt clumsier as he hurried to the front door, thrusting himself out of it while firmly keeping his eyes on the ground. Stairs had never been so uneven, but he wasn’t sure he could stand to take the elevator, to stay still for even a moment, to face anyone that tried to catch up with him.

Outside air was a blessing, the breeze a gift from the highest heavens, but still, Scar had little oxygen to breathe, little coordination of which to move, but there were no benches, so instead he stumbled his way to the rundown parking lot across the street, sitting on a curb stop at the head of one of the many empty spaces. Why was this happening? Why now? Why did everything have to be so hard so much of the time? Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the shadow of someone sharp fell across the tar lot, long, imposing, snaking its way forward. Sharp feathers, talons, teeth, words that bit and snared and dark eyes like slits, wholly unpredictable and utterly terrifying on a good day, or maybe this was just a bad day and Scar’s world was too warped to differentiate. Either way, it was awful it was Grian. Where was Cub? Why did anyone need to come down at all, but out of all people, why Grian?

“Hey,” there were no hard edges when Grian spoke, sitting on the curb stop across from him at least eight feet away. If Scar could stand to make himself look up, he might see how Grian’s posture was low, how his wings were tucked tightly at his back.

“Hi,” was all Scar managed. Grian shifted his weight.

“Is something.. not good? Between us?” Grian paused as if expecting an answer, but Scar didn’t know what to give him. “I mean..” Grian continued in the lack of response, “It’s always been rocky. I know that. I know most of that is my fault. And I think- that isn’t to say- we’ve both had our moments, I think. I really- I think it’s safe to say we’ve both been hurt. And I know I’m a lot of the problem a lot of the time. I know it. And I’m sorry for it, I really am, I don’t think you deserved half of the shit I put you through, you really aren’t any of the things I thought of you- well, there’s more, at least. There’s a lot I didn’t know. I assumed poorly of you for a lot of the wrong reasons. I know it, I just..”

Grian paused for a long moment, longer than what was remotely comfortable, but Scar felt a little too numb to care or speak.

“I thought we were doing okay.”

Grian waited. Scar did not answer.

“Are.. are we not? Doing okay? I know I haven’t seen you in a week or so, but at work- HotGuy and CuteGuy I mean. It’s been great. I’ve been having so much fun, and you look like you’re having fun too. Is- is the teasing too much? I can dial it back, I just thought we were getting along, having fun with it. Are you not having fun?” There was a strain there, the kind that hurt a little too deep to ignore. “Scar, I need you to tell me if you’re not having fun. Please.”

“I’m- HotGuy- It’s fun. Work is.. it’s better than it’s been in years. Maybe it’s better than it ever was in the first place. There’s nothing wrong with CuteGuy.”

“But I- I am CuteGuy, Scar. I don’t understand. Is something wrong with me?” Scar did not answer, he didn’t know how, but the sudden intensity of Grian’s distress nearly folded his lungs over, “What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know,” the words fell from his mouth like a whisper, “I don’t know. I’m scared. I’m just scared.”

“How do I fix it. Please. Tell me how to fix it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“I am. I think I lied to you. I think I said all these things about making this work, about making us work, and I want it, I want so badly to make it work, but everything about you is so sharp, and I can’t stop being afraid when you see me. HotGuy doesn’t care. HotGuy isn’t worried about any of it, but maybe that’s because it’s CuteGuy. I can’t stop being- I can’t stop splitting people up. I can’t just be one. I wish I didn’t care. I don’t want to care. I want this to work so badly-“

“Scar-“

“I don’t want to hurt you, Grian. I know I’ve gone and inserted myself and all my dumb problems into your life but I really- I never meant to intrude on you- I never wanted to hurt you! I just can’t stop lying-“

“Scar, you’ve made my life better!” Grian nearly shouted to be heard, to cut Scar off, to make himself be known. Quieter, he continued, “You’ve- you’ve made me better. You’ve challenged me, you’ve forced me to confront all sorts of nasty shit within myself, and you’ve made me better. And I-“ Grian stopped for a second, biting his lip hard as he glanced from his feet to the ground and back again, looking just about as lost and frightened as Scar felt.

“You’ve made me better, and along the way I think you paid the price for it. I think- I was so- I’m not a very good person, Scar, and you saw every nasty, ugly instinct I have in my arsenal, you’ve seen all of me, and you’ve- Micah- hurt me, but even then, you never wanted to. I don’t think you ever wanted to. You might’ve saved my life, then. Micah, you, whoever. Who knows where I would’ve ended up. But everything I’ve done, I only ever wanted to hurt you. Keep you away from me, from Cub. So I.. it’s okay. It’s okay, if you don’t like me. If you don’t want to like me, don’t want to hang out with me or touch my wings or whatever. It’s okay.”

Once again Grian waited for Scar to say something, and once again he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t even find the words. In his absence, Grian continued.

“I know you know that Cub and I.. You can’t have him without me around. That’s not going to change, and I don’t think you could even dream of trying to change it either, you’re a good guy, I know it, but I.. For what it’s worth, Scar, I can try to stay out of your way. If you’re comfortable with CuteGuy but less so with Grian, then- I can try. It’s the least I can do. I think you’re good. You’re good, you’ve helped me become someone who’s a little more worth something than he was before, and I think in a way, you help Cub too. I bet a lot of people you meet are better because of you. And I- I really respect you.”

The silence was long. Grian might’ve been crying, but Scar couldn’t quite tell, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the cement. His mind felt like a whirlpool, and he was drowning in the middle of it. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want Grian to dip out of his life forever. He just didn’t want to be afraid, but he didn’t know how, but maybe- maybe it was okay. Grian wasn’t angry that Scar had lied, or at least that Scar couldn’t will his body and mind to love him like he so desperately wanted. It was okay. It was okay.

“Grian?”

“Yeah, Scar.”

“Can we still be friends?”

“I’d really like that.”

[badasmuse]

“Boss Ass Bitch”

Reader x Half of Team Bebe😉

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), language, lowercase intended, cheating bada, mostly oral, some fingering

Summary: bada is a liar and a cheat. you just have to get your lick back.

Based off this beauty here

rule number one to be a boss ass bitch, never let a clown try to play you.

the words of boss ass bitch by nicki minaj echoed through your head as you drove 95 down the freeway to get back home. you were pissed and just so happened to turn on nicki minaj radio on spotify and that was the first song to play. you kept replaying the events that just happened.

“so this whole time.. this whole time you had another bitch? you were playing me?” you say in disbelief.

“i wouldn’t necessarily say i was playing you.. but i mean yeah.” bada says shrugging.

you scoff as you look over her shoulder and see the other girl peeking out from behind the wall. “so what was the point in keeping me around?”

“you give good head.”

you suck your teeth, nodding your head and walking out the door.

“that long bitch.” you mutter as you stormed into your apartment. your belgian malinois perks up at the sound of you coming in. you flop on the couch, bouncing your leg angrily. atlas, your dog, puts his head on your lap and looks at you.

“i’m gonna get that bitch back atlas just wait.” you say to him, rubbing his ears. then you remember the song..

if he play you then rule number two, fuck his best friends and make them yes men.

*

“i’m so glad you called to hang out!” tatter says excitedly as she sits next to you on your couch. some movie is playing in the background but you don’t really care about it.

“mhm me too.” you say, placing a hand on her thigh. you rub it gently, trailing your hand higher up.

“y/n..” she says, almost with a warning tone, “stop it.”

you sigh dramatically moving your hand, “fine.” you pout. but that doesn’t last for long cause next thing you know, her lips are on yours and she’s pushing you down on the couch.

finally.

in the blink of an eye. your clothes are off and her head is between your legs. your hand tangles in her hair as you moan loudly. “shit tatter you’re so good at that.” you cry out as she inserts a finger into you, her tongue dancing around your clit.

“you taste so good.” she mumbles.

reaching over to the table, you grab your phone and quickly take a picture of her before exploding all over her face.

*

you didn’t know this would be so damn easy. you straight up went to lusher and asked her to eat you out and she was on her knees, practically worshiping your cunt. you came once already but she wouldn’t let up. her tongue swirled all around you. her face was messy and covered in your juices. she didn’t give not one fuck. you let out a cry as she sucks on your clit harder.

“fuck lusher let up a bit i’m not going anywhere.” you say pulling her long hair.

she whines, clawing at your thighs, “please i want more.” she’s absolutely pussy drunk.

you let out a sigh as she sticks her fingers back in. while she’s distracted you grab your phone to take a picture of her.

*

“fuck minah just like that.” you gasp.

“yeah? does it feel good? you taste good.” she says pumping her fingers in and out of you. your back arches and she giggles.

“looks like your gonna cum baby.. gonna cum on my fingers? or maybe my face?”

you didn’t know she could be this.. dominant. this fucking sexy. “minah.. minah please.” you cry, reaching for your phone.

“please what? use your words slut.” she slaps your clit and you almost drop your phone. “aw do you want memories of this? let me slow down so you don’t cum mid picture.” she says, her fingers slowing down. she puts her mouth on your clit and your eyes roll back.

you take the picture shakily and moan loudly as her fingers hit your gspot, making you cum all over her hand.

*

it took some convincing when it came to kyma, but she finally caved after you told her you’d buy her food from her favorite restaurant.

“i don’t know why you wanted this so bad.” she says, pushing you down on her bed. she aggressively pulls your pants off, putting your leg on her shoulder, attaching her mouth to your cunt, and finally sticking her tongue into your hole.

“just… wanted.. fuck.” you say quietly.

“you just wanted fuck? that doesn’t make sense.” she says curling her fingers up.

you ignore her smart ass remark and moan loudly. “fuck! do that again! i’m gonna cum!” you cry out.

“you sure you don’t want to get your picture first?”

your breath hitches and you look at her, “h-huh?” you stutter.

“get your picture.” she says sucking on your clit.

you reach for your phone taking the picture of kyma between your legs.

send a red heart and send a kissy face, and tell him how his friends love how your pussy tastes

*

tattertot: we know what you’re doing.

the text comes in as soon as you wake up from your nap. you blink a few times and laugh.

you: hope you don’t mind. i was just getting back at your friend for playing me🤭

tattertot: how are you gonna do that?

you: the pictures? i’m about to send them to her😉i owe you four😘

you quickly swipe out the chat and open yours and bada’s messages.

attachments: 4 images

you: ❤️😘

you: your friends love how my pussy tastes🤸🏽

Taglist (open! comment to be added!): @waveartistry @sun-nyy @yngtort @jennamc75 @m0r0s1111 @seungxstar @badasbebe @lil-elliesgf @currentfications

a/n: bada keeps sending messages through mnet plus chat it’s like she knows i’m doing this. anyways HEY GUYTH!!! i have a few requests that i’m working on but i had this (and two other things) on my mind so… be ready🤸🏽

[saras-almanac]

So I know that this is technically the first season of this show where we know going in to season 8 what the storylines will be--at least in general broad strokes and I am so excited! There's literally so many different ways things can play out and I can't wait!

Bobby and Athena -- I actually feel like as a relationship we didn't see this develop much because they literally went from like a date in season 1 to making out in between fire trucks in season 2 and engaged a few episodes later so I absolutely loved the idea of Athena's fear in season 7 of "What do we have when we're not running around?" I hope that they explore that a little more in the idea of "What does our life look like if/when we're not working?" Plus Bobby not being Captain anymore is such an interesting personal story because he literally only came back to being a Captain because he felt like he had a debt to pay. But now it's up to him to really choose whether he still wants to be an active captain or not... (Obviously he won't be Captain forever and I have Thoughts on where I want these characters to go lol) But the comedy gold of him being a tech advisor on a show is hilarious and I genuinely wouldn't be upset if it lasts a long time and then the actor keeps showing up at the fire house after the fact.

I am not a huge fan of Athena's storylines because it's really hard to root for cops in general but also she has abused her power so many times with no thoughts, but maybe MAYBE this idea with reuniting with that man from her past could be a change of, hey things are not as black and white. (I still understand why they framed Athena begins the way they did, but I think it would have been a much bigger impact to have let the man go because he turned his life around and became such a positive influence. But that's just me.)

Also give them more comedy storylines! The cruise ship stuff is one of my favorite things ever with Athena trying to solve a murder but also not wanting to be left alone with Bobby while Bobby is like "I think my wife is avoiding me." Comedy gold and I loved it. Give me them moving in to a neighborhood with HOAs and ridiculous neighborly gossip that they're always investigating and spying but like the lowest stakes possible. (Like the garbage spying Bobby and Michael did that one episode, just not always leading to a secret underground plastic surgeon.) Just give them fun stuff to do. Please.

Hen and Chimney -- I absolutely that this season is set up to sort of test that relationship in a way. Because Chimney and Maddie took in Mara as the sweetest thing to do, but how do they manage this now that Mara is putting down roots. I feel like this is something that is going to lead to a lot of emotions on both sides because Chimney's not trying trying to take Mara away but I also feel like that's going to play on the fears / feelings of Hen and Karen not having security with their children. (But it will be a happy conclusion with Mara back at Henren's as a family because I will be sad if it becomes this idea of "maybe Mara is better off with Madney" just because Henren have gone through that so many times!)

Maddie and Chimney--would love to see them talking about the future of their family, are they having more kids, do they even want more kids? They've never talked about it and I think taking Mara in is the perfect excuse for them to bring it up, have those discussions that I feel like they've never been that great at having. And give them the wedding reception they deserve! Just let them be happy and in love.

Eddie... what can't the do with Eddie this season? Of all the characters, he has had the least amount of growth / development in the show. He's stagnant, unchanged, which isn't necessarily a bad thing but it's that he's been put in situations where there should have been some growth or change but it's never actually happened. I still think of Lena calling Eddie out on being a terrible friend (which is why I actually don't think he hangs out much with the rest of the firefam because he is incredibly self-centered so much and completely unaware of it.) I really want this separation with Chris to force him to deal with Shannon's death and everything that led up to that--he ran away from his responsibilities as a parent and a partner, he just moves passed anything that's difficult for him until it seemingly works out again, or just acts like nothing's wrong. I just want to see some development for him--I'd take anything at this point lol. I want him to acknowledge his flaws and failings and then work through them, because that's where the story lies--whether that's through reconnecting with his religious roots or deconstructing, or intensive grief counselling and therapy. And no romantic relationships for him this year. Part of his growth NEEDS to be that having a romantic partner is not going to "fix him" or "cure him" and apart from having sex with the women, he never seems to be happy in those relationships. Now that could be him being aromantic or just putting way too much pressure on every relationship to immediately be lived in and like his rose-colored view of his marriage to Shannon--which shockily doesn't happen because the women are not Shannon?

Buck, my boy, I am so excited for this season for him! I feel like they might be leaning into the potential of an ADHD diagnosis for him--just purely based on the slow-mo, overstimulated shot of the camera slowly zooming in on his face. And the idea of that on top of him just realizing and discovering his bisexuality could be a really interesting storyline to explore. Sort of a parallel to Buck Begins of him "not knowing what being Buck means" again but different. It's less he doesn't know who he is but he's just gotten so much new information about himself and he's struggling to place the pieces and how much that changes his perception of himself--if it does.

Add that to his new relationship with Tommy, the story that could come of that! Or literally any potential hurdle a new relationship deals with. They were both so open and vulnerable when they had that conversation but it's not a stretch to think that Buck might pull back a bit from sharing that stuff with Tommy because he's so terrified of being too much and/or being abandoned. And even if Tommy tells Buck he's not, there's a very good chance that Buck just won't be able to believe him. Or their hurdles could just be general communication issues or realizing they have different communication styles or moving in together. Or it could be the giddy excitement of being in this new, fun relationship might mean they've moved away from some of those more heavier topics. So many options!

The absolute only thing I don't want is any form of jealousy on Tommy's part that's because he's dating a bisexual. I don't see them going that route and how regressive and bi-phobic it is, but that's my least favorite thing ever in the limited bisexual representation we have and that would genuinely upset me. Totally fine if Tommy has jealousy based on his insecurities--like why would Buck be serious about him, maybe it's too soon to settle down, maybe it's just Buck is so effortlessly charming that it's sometimes hard for Tommy. All totally fine, even if I would prefer that to not be the case.

All this to say, I'm so excited and literally want to both see how this season plays out and also write every version of this!

[mecachrome]

Would you like to do a summary of what Oscar said in this podcast? I would be super grateful!

sure anon! tbh most of the questions were pretty banal but:

talked about choosing op81, being competitive as a child, balancing his calm/competitive side, sacrificing his life in australia to pursue his professional racing dreams etc.

said the fact that the car being bad didn't really "remove pressure" because his benchmark was lando regardless, that he had faith in mclaren but didn't think they'd be this competitive in just a year and a half, mentioned again choosing them because it felt good to be wanted + andrea being one of the primary drivers behind their success ("i never really like putting it down to one person, and i know the person i'm about to mention doesn't like it either" hehe)

re: his r/s with lando "i like to think that hopefully we've been able to boost each other a bit"

on what young oscar would have thought of hungary: "i think firstly he wouldn't have believed it, that it was him, but he would have been incredibly happy. i don't think he would have gone through like... the pride and the emotions of it, but he probably would have been like :D hell yeah, i just won my first f1 race!"

on conservative call to protect 1-2: "i think it's the trust they have in lando and i that they swapped us around like that, knowing that it would be swapped back"

said he and lando don't hang out "that much" outside of races ("i mean we see enough of each other at the races" 😭) but that they need to play padel and he recently got a car in monaco so he can actually drive to it now LOL

there's this bit on what he thinks of life as an f1 driver and he's basically like (air quotes) (reluctant to call it fame) you can't really prepare for "fame" and that it's weird to get recognized off-track but he knows he has to Appreciate The Fans and it's not necessarily Bad but just like....... something you can't train for

says he doesn't have anything he's hugely passionate about outside of racing since he's still focused on that but he likes good food and his favorite dish to make is honey soy salmon 🍣

favorite pre-race breakfast atm is poached eggs on toast, lissie mentioned it being lando's answer last year and he goes "well he's not a big fan of fish in case no one's noticed... and i used to get smoked salmon and he used to absolutely hate it" 😭 #whipped

on what he wants people to know about him: "i think a lot of people think i'm very calm, which i think i am. but that i have... i still have my moments. you know, you need the odd moment of rage here and there, and some people like think i'm just... a complete flat line. but i do have my moments"

not the most interesting hklsdh but i hope this is useful :')

[shydroid3000]

for the character ask thing, i gotta go for L 👀

Ooh, fun one haha. I'll try not to write too much..!

From the ask game:

First impression: I watched the anime first, and I remember finding it delightfully odd and silly that what we saw of this mysterious detective initially was a computer that was for some reason on the floor as he used it? Haha. I remember just thinking, "what is with this dude typing and detectiving on the hard floor?" Lol Once we actually get to meet him fully, I was more delighted. L really was a "love at first sight" (or glimpse) type of character for me. He's got all the ingredients of a character I will have an affinity for: oddball gremlin with delightful quirks, obviously autistic, weird looking in a hot (to me) way, clever, confident, and with a depth of feeling and loneliness that he isn't necessarily aware of himself. He's got a 'weird little bi dude' energy that I love (maybe I'm projecting, but it's true to me lol). I also related to various things about him right away (mostly to do with the autisticness lol): the weird sitting, the excessive love of sweets, the insomnia, the obsessiveness, the lack of capacity to independently take care of activities-of-daily-living like cooking/cleaning/self-care/etc., the finding Light hot despite one's better judgement lol.

Impression now Not that different, but more fleshed out I guess. I'm still as delighted by him as ever. I think because I adore him and project onto him so much, something that has developed over time is a better understanding/acknowledgement of his capacity to be selfish or cruel or unethical. It's a bit easy for me to slip into "uwu L" mode, but I try not to slip too far because I do enjoy the complexities of his character lol.

Favorite moment Oh gosh, that's tough. Hm... Well, in the anime, the rain scene is definitely up there. That will never not get to me lol. Some others that come to mind: His and Light's fight during Yotsuba when on the Misa 'date''; L saying Light is his first friend; his reaction to Naomi's disappearance (I like how it suggests his understanding of and respect for her as a person); his decision to handcuff Light to him 24/7 LOL; when he first meets the task force and they see what a weirdo he is (plus his finger gun and "bang!" haha); anytime he displays sadness. Oh and as a bonus, when he's dressed as a paramedic during the Matsuda mattress rescue LOL. He looks so cute! (Whoops, math isn't my strong point but pretty sure that's more than one moment lol)

Idea for a story Oh, that's kind of tough too. I feel like whatever I think of off the top of my head won't be very interesting, considering how many good L and Lawlight stories there are out there haha. But I'll throw out a random premise I've mulled over in the past: AU where L is born later, so by the time Kira exists L is maybe like 15, earlier in his foray into detective work. I like thinking about the ways younger L might be different in his approach, but also the ways in which his personality would be pretty much unchanged lol. It's also fun to think about teen L's fascination with Kira/Light having a more childlike crush element to it.

Unpopular opinion I don't know that it's actually that unpopular (at least, not in the fandom circles I hang out in), but my read on his statement about Light being his first real friend is that it's the truth. I know there is extra-textual material where Obha explains that L was lying then. But I just personally don't find that reading as compelling nor as supported by the text of the anime/manga itself, regardless of what Obha intended. I think L was absolutely manipulating, but I think it was also true for him that Light was his friend. They truly are the quintessential frenemies (/soulmates) lol. I said in some other post that I think L's biggest manipulation is painting his authenticity the colour of a lie (like how his real first name is L but it's presented like that letter is a mere alias), and I think he does that in this moment too.

Favorite relationship Well, it has to be Lawlight lol. But I also like L and Naomi, as well as L and Matsuda (in both cases, whether as ships or not). I also find his dynamic with Aizawa (and the particular ways they clash) really intriguing.

Favorite headcanon Hmmmmmm..... Only the most obvious ones are coming to mind right now lol. Like, L being autistic (I feel like that barely even counts as headcanon since it's so obvious lol). Or him being gay for Light (refer to previous parenthetical remark). If I think of something more interesting I will come back and add it lol.