#now its some of the best memories i have of him

[qcatter]

A Nightmare

i hate tumblr it hates me, and nothing posts ever. on that note i was up all night haunted by Mer prowl who has seizures instead of crashes and wrote this whole thing out on my phone and it's 6 in the morning now help. why are word limits a thing even with readmores!!!> prowl is in a horror story while jazz waits eagerly for his buddy cop escapes heist can start. (prowl is in actual hell as an angel meeting a demon who's twisted like a horror funhouse mirror until he's barely recognizable as the same thing as you once.) @keferon like a cat bringing a dead fish.

Prowl sighed, swimming through the bright surface waters.  The chances of closing this missing persons case were *abysmal*.  Nothing to go on, not even a clue to just when he went missing.  Tracking down a missing mer through word of mouth out in the wilds from half (and sometimes full) feral mers.  The case was cold long before it had been handed to him.  Missing for possibly an entire moon before someone noticed and reported it.  

Prowl breached for a moment to get a lung full of fresh air and to scan the rocky coastline.  The leopard seal mer he encountered had been more concerned about Prowl leaving their territory than giving anything approaching general directions, let alone *accurate* ones.  Swim that a way for a day, zig zag through that reef, and the island with a bay that has a rock jutting out of the water that looks like a shark had a mer *cliff jumping* from impossible highs and landing into the reef a hundred feet away. 

 Completely insane and utterly deranged if not for the fact that Brainstorm was in fact, a flying fish, and was last reported working on upgrading his water pulpusion jet swim assist to work in the air. Not that he could have been leaping off of these cliffs.  The shear drop made them unclimbable,  let alone from the bay as the slope would be utterly exhausting to drag oneself up the - oh, that rock *does* look like a shark.  Well nobody said Brainstorm was anything but incredibly focused on his projects.  It did not change the fact he was not here *now*, and likely and run off after whatever flight of fancy he got caught up in. 

 It better not be humans again.  The wildlife laws protected them from getting captured or experimented on, but some mer alway got it in their head to mess with things better left alone.  Humans were dangerous, known for catching and killing massive amounts of sealife, from shrimp to great whales.  Rather ironic, as Orcas such as Prowl had a similar reputation.  A supposed genius like Brainstorm surely wouldn't have... he absolutely saw a boat or a human splashing on the shoreline and had to go poke it.  

Giving a few loud clicks to map out the shoreline. Prowl checked it against the list of human habituated island.  This one wasn't, but a boat migratory routed passed within a few miles of here.   Prowl couldn't help but grin to himself.  It might not be the best lead, but it was one that didn't involve speaking with witnesses that didnt want to talk.  Soon Prowl would be able to find what little tide pool Brainstorm had gotten himself stuck in, and get back to civilization.

Lightening flashed across the night sky, Prowl flinched back below the surface, blinking away pain and blind spots. The very air felt heavy, pressing down like the deep sea crushed organs.  Every time he went up to breathe it felt more like drowning.  Flipping back under the boat he hooked his claws back into its' belly plating.  From the tips of his fingers to the ends of his tail, he *ached* . City patrols at least had time to rest.  Trailing boats at a distance during the day was tiring, but at night it was child's play.  Humans could spot a whale breach halfway to the horizon when it was light out, but would miss him right under their noses the moment the sun went down.  The sea and storm rolled, and Prowl let it rock and cradle him against the boat.  It was nostalgic.  Comforting memories of being pressed against his mother's belly while resting growing muscles from endless swimming.  Water going from fighting every moment to easing soreness when you gave in and drifted.  His claws were numb. The ocean pulled, the humans howled and chattered to each other over head. The air was heavier than the sea and hurt to breathe, hurt to *think*.  Waves crested and caught the light of their lanterns, shattering it in the water like glass.  His hands started to shake.  The boat screamed a horrible screeching hiss as the humans all barked at it, a terrible symphony with the song of the storm. His aching tail went tense and stiff and his fins started to uncontrollably tremble.  Prowl shoved himself away from the boat and let sea hold him in its' imbraise as he fought his own muscles to grab ahold of his pendant.  The chain snapped but he managed to click the dispenser twice.  Shoving the two oily pills into his mouth he struggled to swallow past his swollen tongue.  One popped under his teeth filling his mouth with greasy oily bitterness. He gagged. A fresh mouthful of salt water washed some of it away.  Tasting salt, medication, and blood he finally managed to swallow as the waves rolled him against sand.

Everything hurt.

It was dry. The light was too bright. A howling barking collection of seals wouldn't shut up. Each noise sending stabs of pain into his head as they got closer. Something shuffled in the sand near him as a wave of water poured over him.  Something was touching him. *Hands* were touching him! With a sudden jerk as he was rolled over, Prowl awoke.

Hands were holding his face as water was poured over scrapes and gashes along his body. Blood trickled over fingers with dulll blunt flat claws as it leaked from his tongue.  A human face swam in and out of focus, muttering sounds and pointing tools.  It frowned at him. Then starting barking orders before clicking a light and shinning it at directly into his eyes.  The pain blooming from his eyes into his skull had him thrashing as humans shouted and pulled on top of him in an effort to pin him down. Vision blurred and spotting left him defenseless as a sudden pricking bite hit him and he knew no more.

Prowl awoke in a white void.

He drifted in the center.

The water tasted of salt, clean, empty and wrong.  Clicking sonar showed that it was a small room. Two thirds water, one third air.  The walls were flat and empty, as was the floor. Save for vents and light. Surfacing showed the oddly high ceiling to much of the same, save for a small flat shore and a door.  Flipping to dive Prowl stopped. Floating facing the floor, Prowl reached out and touched it, then stretched his tail. It breached the surface. One, two strokes of his tail as he swam to touch wall to wall. He turned.

One, two. 

Less powerful stokes let him do it in five. Swimming in a circle had him scrapping against the sides unless he went carefully and slowly.  Even the air was wrong. It stank of oils and grease and chemical and fish and ranked of animals.  Purgatory may have been aptly named.

A click and a clang. Prowl surfaced. The door on the shore opened. Two humans entered, grinning and chittering to each other. One stayed back while the other approached with a bucket of fish. Prowl stared, silently and flicked his tail in line order to face it directly.  It placed down its' bucket and bent down on its' strange legs and smiled at him. He bared his teeth back.  He was already cornered and caught, he refused to back down. Prowl was a killer whale, he would not shy from this thing. It grinned and begin wave a fish taunt him with it. He lined himself up slowly, holding eye contact as he floated perfectly still and perfectly pointed straight forward unblinking.  

The human rose, and began reach for the bucket. One, two. Prowl burst from the water and sank his teeth into flesh. The taste blood and fat filled his mouth as screams filled his ears. He held it down.  Digging his claws into loose false skin until they pierced the true one. Nothing Prowl caught ever escaped from him.  Something popped and pain popped against his side. Throwing himself off and back into the water he yanked the little anemone biter off of himself. It was a needle. The lights rippled and the voices swam. Prowl... drifted.

Prowl awoke in a blank white room. 

He floated in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean, blood and *wrong*.  The room was small, barely more water than air. The air smelled of chemicals, burning the inside of his mouth as he scented it. The flat shore recked of it. It was empty expect for a few stray drops of blood and an over turned bucket of fish.  Beaching himself, Prowl drug himself painstakingly slowly, one hand at a time, over to the door. The handle refused to turn.  Slaming himself against the metal only left him with bruises. After chipping his claws to till the quicks bled he finally stopped screaming. Instead he turned back to the fish, dragging himself back and begain to pick through it and began picking the bones clean. Nearly all were un prepped and raw, save one. A small mackerel had a small slit cut in it.  He swallowed it whole and gagged as the trace bitterness of meds bit his tongue and desperately tried to keep everything he ate down. He failed. Leaving the mess and the pile of bones Prowl return to the pool.

Prowl awoke in a small white room. 

He floated lopsided in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean and wrong. His fins were scraped raw. Paint had been chipped from the walls. (One, two, wall) Faint brown stains left where ever the water did not reach. Prowl did not remember making the fourth one. (One, two, wall) The lights were too bright. They never fully went out. (One, two, wall) Some machinery thrumbed and throbbed in his head.  He ached. The door buzzed and clicked. A human brought a bucket of fish inside and left it on the flat beach. His fins shook. The door closed and clicked. Prowl pressed his face into a corner and tried to block out more light with his hands but then the sounds roared louder.  He seized.

Prowl awoke in a dim dark room. 

He floated in the center peacefully. The water tasted of salt, clean, and wrong.  The spot where they injected him was sore and inched. His hands were sore from scraping them against the rock. His belly hurt from dragging it on the ground.  The lights brightened. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in and slowly tossed fish in frount of him one by one as he ate them. He left the bones on the bottom of the pool.  The fish tasted wrong. The door closed and clicked. The lights stayed on until he fell asleep.

Prowl awoke in small white room. 

It tasted of salt and the waste and remnants of fish and wrong.  He flicked a bone at the door. It hit dead center. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in with a bucket of fish. It tossed him a fish. He ate it. It tossed him another one. The next went high and he caught it. It threw the fourth into one of the corners. Prowl didn't even turn to look as he stared the human down. The human sighed and tossed another just over his head. He had to reach up to catch it. The human grinned. It tossed the next one even higher. Prowl had to halfway breach in order to get it. The human howled and chattered at him. It started swinging a fish back and forth before launching it straight up. Prowl stared the human down without moving a muscle while the fish landed with a plop a few feet behind. He did not move. The human did not throw anymore fish. Prowl shoved the bones into the filtration intakes.

Prowl awoke in a clean white room.

He floated calmly in the center.

The water tasted fresh, of salt, clean and wrong.  There was a hammock hanging in the water.  It felt familiar. Prowl wasn't sure if he had ever seen it before. He swam into it. It wasn't soft, but it was sturdy. A familiar dark kelp green that perfectly cradled his body with holes for him to fit his flippers in.   The hammock was too low in the water for him to comfortly lay with his head above water. With a long suffering sign he wiggled and twisted around till he was sitting up enough to lay his head on the metal pole.  The frabic was rough and hurt where his skin was soft and sore, but it was the softest thing in this room and he missed his at home.  Where he wasn't trapped and could cook his food and turn the lights off all the time and sleep in a soft woven hammock properly for hours at a time rather than constant small naps. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in holding a bucket of fish and a long stick with a ball on the end. It stopped and stared at him. He stared back. It wailed at him and began chittering in annoyance. It waved a fish. Then tapped the other side of the shore with the pole. With a sigh Prowl pulled himself from the hammock and gave a gentle swish of his tail to reach over and grab the fish. The human tapped the hammock and dropped a fish on it.  After Prowl wiggled back onto it the human tapped its stick on the other side of the room and waited.  Prowl went over and tapped the spot. It was almost like a form of communication. Maybe if he could manage to get something across besides bared teeth and lunging, were clicks and whistles weren't.  Prowl tried tapping. The human just handed him his fish and tapped a spot way up on the shore. This was the stupidest thing Prowl had ever done. But unless he went where they tapped, it would refuse to give him the fish.  Nothing was working. Attempts at tapping and placing his fish down, throwing the fish and draging him self over to it and tapping, tapping and leaving to see if the human would go there. Nothing!  Tired and with his belly scrapped raw Prowl rolled off the shore and unto the hammock and wiggled until he had his head pressed up against the side. The human babbled at him and tossed him a few extra fish.  Prowl threw his own arm over his face and for the first time, managed a deep sleep.

Prowl awoke in that hammock with the worse crick in his neck and waist from where he was bent over himself. He slept on the shore the next day.

They took the hammock.

Prowl awoke in a small white room. He floated just above the bottom. The water tasted of salt.  He wondered if it was worth surfacing. The door buzzed and clicked. A group of humans came in. They brought the hammock back and set it up. One tapped it with the pole. Prowl swam in.  It handing him a fish and tapped the pole again and handed him a second one. The hammock lifted from the water and Prowl struggled not to squirm as he was held in the air.  Hands brushed along him through the frabic and down his tail. One pair grabbed his fin and pricked it with a needle. Just as suddenly they backed up, barked at each up and lowered him back. They gave him the rest of the bucket and left him there. Alone, in a hammock. This time it was high enough to layout and rest his head. Prowl slept.

Prowl awoke in a Hammock in a bright white room. It was the only thing in there besides himself.  The lights pulsed. He drug himself to shore and shook stiffly through his seizure. He stared fixed at the one brown splatter of dots on the wall that looked like a fish hook. The door buzzed and slammed opened and humans rushed in and started pawwing at him. They shoved him down and rolled him into the hammock and lifted him through the doors. Frozen and shaking he watched. Down halls and past many doors until they reached a room that smelled so strongly of chemicals he could taste it through his blood.  The humans frantically yelled and barked until finally after one of the needles they jabbed him with made him black out.

Prowl awoke In a small white room

The fish tasted different, but in a familiar way. The bitterness matched that of when he would bite through his perscription. The water still tasted wrong.

Prowl drifted and awoke.

The humans would try to make him follow the pole where they tapped it, and jump for his fish. He often would not.  It was easier not to but there wasn't enything else. There was nothing to do but drift after listening to his own screams ringing in the silence. 

So Prowl drifted.

[mamawasatesttube]

man... "time machine" by autoheart has me pondering the agonies. like fuck rebirth not doing that, but. a situation in which via magic or something, everyone [temporarily] forgets kon rebirth style. and he has to deal with that. and oops! what's that? oh it's just his suicidal tendencies coming back in FULL force, haha.

like its devastating enough when his friends don't remember him. but john henry? ma kent? clark?

what's he supposed to do with himself now? he has nothing and no one. he knows what he was made for, though. he wants to die a hero. he wants to die a hero. it won't hurt anyone this time because they forgot they love him. why is he here? he's a hero. he wants to die a hero. except heroes are remembered even after they die. what are you when no one remembers you, other than "dead twice over"? and you keep thinking of how unfair it is that the first time you died it hurt everyone you love. and now they forgot you so you may as well be dead. you kind of wish you stayed dead.

so he's not exactly taking it well. and of course ma and clark take it in stride when he shows up at the farm in distress. maybe it's a case of inadvertent dimension travel or something, clark muses, stroking his chin. and kon looks at the notch on the leg of the sofa that krypto accidentally scratched while wrestling on the floor with kon three months ago and says, haha yeah. maybe.

BUT! this time all the discrepancies and all the little things that don't add up? they're the point. kon gets to go to centennial park and point at his statue next to clark and say look. look, i'm real. i lived. you loved me. i died. i'm real. i'm real. i'm real.

and i think clark gets really quiet at that point. and then he's devastated. and furious. because he has a little brother/son/cousin/Little Guy. and someone robbed him of all of his memories of him. he has so few kryptonian family members and someone took one of them from him in the most raw, horrific way possible. they took his little guy from him so thoroughly he isn't even grieving. and isn't that in itself a horror? that there's no grief where he knows grief should be?

and i think kon here just kind of sticks Hard to clark's side at this point. if anyone remembered him or the people he loved, they'd find it odd and notable how conspicuously he's avoiding tim, bart, and cassie. unfortunately, no one knows him anymore, so no one notices. but kon just can't face the complete lack of warmth in their faces when they look at him. and it feels like far too much to explain "sorry, you don't know me, but you're supposed to love me. i love you and it's tearing me apart." so he just needs as much space as he can get.

(there's definitely a subplot of tim's nosy ass going "hey bruce, who was that guy with superman and steel at the jla meeting? what was that about? he looked a lot like superman huh?? hey bruce what's up with that guy? hey bruce what's going on--" and bruce, a paranoid asshole on the best of days, just going "i don't trust him." but tim is a nosy little ferret who will not be deterred and quite possibly pulls bart and cassie in on trying to investigate the guy who looks like superman but isn't superman.)

(however, for some reason, the guy who looks like superman but isn't superman seems to want absolutely nothing to do with the three of them. isn't that weird??)

anyways it has to have a happy ending where the curse is lifted or whatever and everyone gets their memories back and kon gets to have an incredibly cathartic breakdown into ma's lap. but probably not before he nearly gets himself killed at least 4 times first. oops!

[writingmeraki]

take me back — c.sc ft k.mg (TEASER)

❝ in which with some people you meet, you learn they are better off as memories.

( or growing up you thought the one who you considered your dearest would stick with you till the end of time but turns out life doesn't work that way and along the way, you find solace in the least expected of places and people perhaps. )

pairings : seungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader, best friend seungcheol, enemy mingyu. genre : angst, romance, bits of humour, fluff, coming of age. warnings : mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, cusses, lots of relation issues, people are mean too,crisis (plenty) about life and all its ugly ( as well as good) points, lots of cameos from svt members and my loml @etherealyoungk :) inspired by — the night we met by lord huron. a/n at end, pls do read <3

w.c : 1.1k for the teaser | estimated 15-20k for final. | note : in "[__]" are the ages !

❝ I HAD ALL — seven to fifteen.

[ begin : seven ]

You knew it was always a wonder how you'd end up becoming friends with him. Even though he was your age, same class, similarly missing teeth, unruly hair, and curiosity that would annoy impatient adults (those who had a longing for their now gone childhood) about how you wanted to know everything about the humongous world and all its tidbits.

Choi Seungcheol. The dimple, wide eyed boy who you found a little suspicious the first time you saw him. He looked a little too happy for someone sitting in the math class early in the morning. Or maybe it was just you who disliked the subject hence you were not as happy as usual having to study it first thing in the morning.

Then again, he was a new student too. After the class ended, everyone seemed to be enticed with him and rushed forward to be his friend, perhaps best friend too.

You were too focused on packing your bag, making sure not to forget your favorite purple pen that you didn’t see who stood in front of you.

“Hi!” Startled, you dropped it on the floor and frowned as it rolled beneath the desk. Annoyed, you looked up at the person, eyes narrowing more once you saw who it was.

“You scared me.” When his smile dimmed down, so did his dimples disappear and he sort of looked like your grandma’s puppy when he would get scolded which made you feel bad for him, in this situation, you felt bad.

“Sorry I didn't mean to, I just wanted to ask if we could be friends.” He murmured to you as he bent down to pick up your pen and handed it to you. “Here. Oh, pretty color!”

Surprised at his words and even more at his compliment, you couldn’t help but grin back at him and nodded, “Isn’t it?! I have more like this and the red is even prettier with sparkles!”

“Woah, red is my favorite color!”

“Mine too along with purple of course!”

You gasped as your eyes widened, all feelings that may have arised of annoyance disappeared.

“What’s your name?”

You said your name, the grin on your face not leaving.

“Can we-can we be friends then? I don’t know anyone except you now.”

And with a nod, you raised your hand for a handshake,

“Okay, new friend.”

Both of you giggled as you shook hands and that day, you went home with a new friend to introduce to your dad.

[ intermission : fifteen. ]

Seungcheol became captain of the boys soccer team and you honestly couldn’t be more proud of him. You were someone who knew about his love for soccer since the very first day and even were someone to help him practice at times so it was no surprise to you he’d become the captain.

But with this newfound title, also came the new friends. Friends you did not expect but you couldn’t say you didn’t like them.

Joshua was sweet actually, as sweet as a fifteen year old boy can be. Probably the nicest out of the whole bunch. Jeonghan was annoying but nonetheless he knew when to shut up if it got too much. Vernon and Soonyoung were petty and pesky and you think one of these days you might just ‘accidentally’ put green dye in their shampoos. The worst was surprisingly not these two but Mingyu. He downright had a distaste and was always clear about it.

And one thing your father thought you was to treat people the way they treat you, so if he was going to be a bitch to you, you’d be a bigger one. He played the part of being a dog almost too well, his floppy hair and puppy eyes at times convinced you he was likely one in his past life. Too bad he also carried the personality of one to this lifetime.

But still, Seungcheol was your best friend. The others, well they were your friends ( you doubted that with Mingyu) but not the type to just greet you, you guys hung out and had fun, except when Mingyu picked fights with you, but it was still fun.

Does knowing someone longer in your life automatically make them of more importance than someone who comes later?

Perhaps it was why you were not able to declare anyone else your best friend because indeed you knew him the longest.

“Okay cut it off you two.” There he finally came, arm over your shoulder and he looked between his two best friends fighting.

Your arms were crossed as you continued to glare at the boy in front of you. He decided to pick a fight and while you were trying not to lose your patience.

You looked up at Seungcheol and he was smiling at you, shaking his head lightly.

“Why are you both always at each other's neck?”

“You mean why is Mingyu so obsessed with me that he can't help but intervene in every thing I do?”

You smirked and blinked innocently, turning to look at Mingyu whose face twitched in annoyance as he rolled his eyes and pushed back his hair.

“Yeah right as if anyone would even want to keep up with you.”

“Mm but see Cheol has…for almost eight years now.”

You mocked him, childishly poking your tongue out. He glared at you, ready to retort as fast as you finished the sentence.

“Again? Knock it out, come on.” Seungcheol cut him off before another screaming match would happen. You truly wondered how the heck did he even become friends with that.

He came after you, he became friends just because of a sport and somehow he was a good friend, dare you say a best friend of his.

Maybe you were petty for feeling like that but you couldn't help it.

You knew him longer. Mingyu came afterwards.

“You two are my best friends, it's sad to see you not get along well.”

You paused. Stopping in your tracks and then you realized that you'd both been walking already with Mingyu trailing along.

Best friend…friends?

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol asked concerned as you blinked up at him as if you'd heard wrong and he looked at you in confusion wondering if he said something wrong.

You pretended to ignore the faint murmur of the word everything falling out from the boy who was beside Seungcheol.

“It's getting late…I should uh…go, Dad will get worried.”

It was as though those three words seemed to affect you. Maybe you were being overdramatic.

But, all the years you made friends, you only declared one of them your best friend. A title you thought was supposed to be reserved for one person.

You learnt that, perhaps knowing someone longer did not mean they would hold more importance than those who came after.

They would hold the same. Or less.

And maybe, that title itself did not have to be held for one person, having more than one didn't seem all too bad…right?

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys ; @toplinehyunjin ; @cherrylovescheol

( if you want to be added for this specific fic, just send an ask/reply to this !)

a/n : thank you to my biggest motivator @etherealyoungk for helping me and motivating me to write. i love you so much. and yes this is my comeback fic HAHAHA, i decided if we're gonna be back, might as well be something huge!! this fic means a lot to me and by releasing this teaser i'm hoping it gives me the motivation to fully finish this. i promise u it will get so much better :") i just dk how teasers work im so sorry :") looking forward to writing again and i truly missed you all. mwah <3

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2025

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: C R I N G E, Cursing, Toxic Relationship but it gets fixed

Description: Alastor runs into his ex-wife again

Alastor does his best not to think about you anymore, even more so now that he's at the hotel and scheming his secret little schemes

But there are times when he can't not think about you, times when he's suddenly reminded of you and can't bring himself to push the memory away

Or times when he runs into you accidentally, doing his best to avoid you and keep you from seeing him. While also watching you for as long as he can without being caught

Those days, he ends up drowning himself in alcohol and regret. The memories of how your marriage ended replaying in his mind over and over again

"Ah...we used to be so happy together.."

Then he drinks himself to sleep with sweeter memories, the first kiss, the wedding, the honeymoon...only to spend the next day nursing a hangover

After that, he's back to normal, and his afterlife goes on,

That is until he runs into you again, and for him, it's like time stops the moment he catches the eerily familiar scent of your perfume

He's about to turn the corner to hide from you until he notices you're with a man and that evil monstrous jealous side of him takes over

Suddenly, your suitor is gone once again(not that you really minded), and you have a pretty good idea of whose fault that is(which pissed you off)

But that was just the way things were between you two now, neither of you really loving it but doing nothing to change it

That is until you two somehow end up running into each other again but end up forced to stick together, caught in the crossfire of some territory fight

Naturally, the two of you end up back to back fighting alongside each other, which is something that immediately is picked up on by the others

It doesn't help that your history together is incredibly obvious, the two of you catching each other, giving each other knowing looks and Alastor even wiping some blood from your face

"Woah woah woah! Wait a minute! Just who the hell is this piece?"

You can't help but push Alastor away from you, your hands moving off of his chest as if it burned you, Alastor only hummed and dusted himself off

"Aha! This lovely piece of work here is my darling ex-wife, Y/N~"

You could practically hear the record scratch sound effect as everyone turns to look at you, the moment of distraction just long enough for one brave demon to suddenly try and attack Alastor

But before Alastor even has time to react, you've suddenly got the demon pinned by his throat, clawing desperately at your ankle to try and get free

You only press your heel down harder and look up to address the other demons surrounding all of you, pointing at Alastor

"None of you better lay a finger on him, understand? He's mine. Mine to kill, that is."

Alastor is smiling at you viciously, obviously amused by your statement but secretly happy that you defended him even if you despise him now

"Oh darling~ You do care~"

"Not another word out of you."

Alastor is practically purring for an entire week after that encounter, feeling renewed at the sight of you and even happier to touch you, to speak with you

Charlie and the others are all gossiping about the two of you, even though Vaggie tries her hardest not to involve herself

"Charlie, what does it matter? She obviously doesn't like him anymore and Alastor doesn't care about anything or anyone unless it benefits him."

"That's the thing! I think Alastor still loves her! We could set them up!"

"That sounds like a terrible idea..."

Charlie doesn't agree and ends up inviting you to the hotel. Somehow, she gets you to agree despite you being painfully aware that Alastor will be there

Your new bedroom is suspiciously familiar in its decoration and amenities, little touches that made it feel like home

At first, things are incredibly awkward at the hotel with you and Alastor now reunited, mainly because you two won't even look at each other

In fact, when one of you enters a room, the other will just get up and leave regardless of if you were busy/in conversation or not

Or you'll just openly dislike anything to do with your ex-husband

You're eating some food that someone left out in the kitchen? Something hot and tantalizing, obviously fresh and delicious looking? How could you resist?

Vaggie comes in and sees you enjoying it, a wistful expression on your face each time you take a bite

"Y/N, how are you liking the food?"

"It's definitely familiar, who made this?"

"Ala-"

Suddenly the food is being dumped in the trashcan and you're cleaning your plate

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I'm feeling sick to my stomach. Must be the food."

It takes months for you two to stay in the same room together, but even then, you two can't help but bicker and act snarky

Alastor is listening to the radio? You're shutting it off and opening a book without even looking at him. Only for Alastor to turn it back on and hum along to the music, which makes you turn it back off

On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. O-

"Can't we just sit and enjoy the silence, you homicidal bastard?"

"Oh, I would love to, but this silence is wasted on a pretty drip such as yourself~"

Not you two erupting into a stupid argument while Charlie sits awkwardly between you two on the couch

Niffty brings home a pet and Alastor tells her to throw it back out? She comes running to you

"Y/N! Y/N! Can I keep him!?!"

You don't even look to see what monstrosity she's holding, simply turning a page in your book

"Did you ask Alastor?"

"Yes!"

"Hm. What did he tell you?"

"To get rid of that mangy thing!"

Niffty can tell by the way your eyes flick up for a brief moment to look at her and the small quirk of your lips that she's won

"You may keep it."

Somehow, it morphs into bickering into a weird sort of interaction that you two end up looking forward to?

It's not subtle either, everyone around you and Alastor can tell that feelings are starting to be somewhat rekindled

But just when it seems like things are going forward in your relationship, one of you remembers why things ended in the first place and step back

Alastor brings you something thoughtful and sweet? You're doing everything you can to not reveal how happy it makes you

He's smiling at you warmly as you admire his gift, a soft blush on your cheeks, your lips fighting a smile as you thank you

"Y/N..."

He's reaching out to brush a claw against your cheek, making you gasp, an apology for everything just about to fall from his lips

... only to see Carmilla down the street and remember how urgently he had needed to speak with her recently, pushing you physically and mentally to the side

Again.

"I have to go, so terribly sorry, but this can't wait another moment! Oh Carmilla~!"

And suddenly, you remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place, that familiar pang of hurt blooming in your chest

And of course, you don't want to admit that he hurt your feelings, so you start doing things to be vindictive or get a rise out of him

Purposefully 'forgetting' about him when a rather attractive man comes over to talk with you, exaggerating blushes and letting him kiss your hand

Seeing him getting a taste of his own medicine gives you a sense of satisfaction but also reminds him of his own reasons for wanting a divorce

The two of you just end up in the same cycle of fighting, bickering, pushing down your emotions, almost falling in love again, hurting each other, and going back to fighting

Rosie, with all the sweetness in her soul, is the one who wants to put a stop to all the fighting between you two. It's totally not because she's sick of seeing Alastor sulk and give you lovesick looks when he thinks you aren't looking

And not at all because of how soft and pathetic you get when you start to fall for him again, only to watch you become cold and steely once he's hurt your feelings

Okay yeah, she's sick of it, but Rosie is pretty sure she can work with this

She is unbelievably subtle with how she starts to unravel all of your problems as a couple, slowly straightening out all the kinks

Alastor has you on the sidelines again? Rosie is there to give him a nudge and point out that he's not being very attentive to you

"Now now Alastor! It's impolite to leave a lady waiting! Best wrap it this up quickly before someone snatches her away~"

All it takes is a glance at someone walking your way for Alastor to startle and make his way back over to you as quickly as possible

You scoff and roll your eyes at him before looking off at nothing in particular, a sour look on your face

"I thought you had too much to do."

"I've come to the realization that my priorities need to be aligned elsewhere."

The look of surprise on your lovely face is enough to make him feel guilty, wondering how often he had let you down in the past...

"Shall we dance, my dear~?"

"It goes against my better judgement..."

But you're already taking his hand, a soft blush on your cheeks as you let him take you by the waist and pull you onto the dance floor

It's reminiscent of when you two first were in love, staring into each other's eyes before one of you became too choked up with emotion and ended up leaning on each other while slow dancing

Or maybe you're having a petty moment, purposefully soaking up attention from someone just to keep Alastor looking your way and seething with jealousy

Charlie(who was recruited by Rosie) will gently try to convince you to just be honest with Alastor about wanting his attention instead of getting a rise out of him

It's absolutely mortifying, but you give it an honest shot, fully believing that he will either reject you or ridicule you for being so pathetic

But you dress yourself up until you're as irresistible as you can be(he would say yes even if you were wearing Vox Themed Merch) and make your way up to his radio tower

You don't manage to sneak up on him but you do make him speechless when he turns around to see you, getting anniversary flashbacks and wondering if he missed something on his calendar

But the lack of anger on your face makes him relax... just a little...at least enough to ask the question that used to get his head bitten off

"Y/N, you look quite fetching this evening...is there a reason why..?"

Alastor is definitely not backing away when you take a step towards him, your facial expression wavering between determination and something akin to embarrassment

"I was wondering if you would like to go out and eat with me tonight..."

His ears twitch up as he processes what you're saying to him, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you're asking for his attention

Before his ego takes over and he's looping his arm in yours, black dripping tentacle like flowers suddenly being offered to you as he guides you out of the hotel

"I would love to eat you tonight!"

WHOOPS-

You two do eventually figure out that everyone has been essentially doing couple's therapy on you both, but at that point, neither one of you care

Your feelings for each other are rekindled, and you two work hard to be better partners even if that means asking for outside help(ROSIE!!!)

You two end up becoming a power couple, a force to be reckoned with when you work together, a fierce deadly duo that is nearly unstoppable

"Darling~ What should I do with this wretched cretin~?"

"Eat him up, my love~"

But you two are also adorable together, Alastor listening to the radio and humming while you read in his lap, leaning on him as you two relax together

Sometimes Niffty will open the broom closet to find you two kissing in there like a couple of teenagers, she just climbs between your legs to get the cleaning supplies she needs then shuts the door on her way out

"Alastor..?"

"Mm~?"

"I think Nif just locked us in..."

"More time to enjoy ourselves~"

Alastor had forgotten how good it was to wake up to you using his chest as a pillow, the sight of your sleeping face, and knowing that you trusted him to keep you safe even now

You're often woken up by Alastor kissing your neck or rubbing your hips, a nice change from waking up alone and wondering if he had even come to bed the night before

And if he can't be there when you wake up then you'll find flowers in his place along with a note of where he went and when he will come back

You two make time for each other now, giving yourselves designated days to go out on dates and even having a few spontaneous ones as well

When you two are together it's almost what you would think being in Heaven would feel like

Staring into Alastor's eyes while he grazes his lips against your knuckles, hearing a pleased hum come out of him when you inevitably blush because of him

Feeling the way his body tenses with excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself against him, leaning up to capture his lips with your own

"Aw, you two are so cute now that you're bangin' on the regular again! Unless hate fucking was your thing?"

Alastor's lip twitches with anger/amusement as a gasp/laugh bubbles out of you, and you hide your face in his shoulder to stifle any further laughter as to not encourage Angel

I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR LIKE A YEAR NO LIE

[octaneink]

Could you do some dating willne headcannons or some willne smut but like in an established relationship? I’m obsessed with your fics, I swear I’ve read them so much I could recite them from memory 😭😭

Ahhh thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy that you like what I've written. I've never done headcannons or write smut lol so bear with me. I don't really know how to write smut ngl so I hope you like the spice (I think thats spicy? I don't know) at the end, I've never really written anything lke that before so I hope its...realistic?

Warning for some steamy stuff at the end!

Dating Will Lenney Headcanons

Playful Banter

In your relationship with Will, playful banter is the base of your dynamic, and he uses it to keep things light, fun, and endlessly entertaining. Whether you’re curled up on the couch, out for a walk, or in the middle of a mundane task, Will’s teasing is a constant—a reminder of how much he adores you.

He’s the kind of person who can’t resist poking fun at your quirks, but it’s always done with so much affection that it never feels mean-spirited. For example, if you’re watching one of your favourite romantic series for the hundredth time, he’ll lean over with a smirk and say, “Oh, this again? Let me guess—they’ll hate each other, then fall in love, and you’ll cry even though you know exactly how it ends.” But then he’ll stay right there beside you, secretly enjoying how much you love it—and secretly enjoying the series himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’s grown fond of the predictable charm of your go-to media.

Will’s teasing isn’t just one-sided, though. I think he’d love it if you gave as good as you get. If you catch him singing off-key in the shower, you’ll absolutely call him out on it. “Wow, I didn’t know cats could sing opera,” or something, and he’ll laugh so hard he almost slips. Or if he’s trying to fix something around the house, and it goes wrong, you’ll be there with a camera and a sarcastic comment like, “Handyman of the year, everyone.” He’ll pretend to be offended, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

The best part is how his teasing always comes with an undercurrent of love. He’ll joke about your “weirdly specific and unnecessarily complex” coffee order, but he’ll still remember it perfectly and surprise you with it on a rough day. And if anyone else dares to tease you, he’s quick to jump to your defence, proving that his playful jabs are reserved for him alone.

Your banter becomes a language of its own—a way to say “I love you” without actually saying it. It’s in the way he grins when you roll your eyes at his jokes, the way he nudges you gently when you’re being stubborn. The way he always knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on your worst days. With Will, every day feels like a game, and you’re both winning.

Supportive Partner

In your relationship with Will, his unwavering support is one of the things you cherish most. He’s not just your partner—he’s your biggest cheerleader, your hype man, and your safe haven all rolled into one. No matter what you’re going through, whether it’s chasing a dream, tackling a new challenge, or just having a rough day, Will is always there to lift you up and remind you of your worth.

When you decide to try something new—whether it’s skating, learning an instrument, or even something as simple as baking a complicated recipe—Will will be the first to encourage you. He’ll sit with you while you practice, offering gentle advice when you ask for it and cheering you on even when you feel like giving up. “You’re a natural,” he’ll say, even if your first attempt at playing the guitar sounds more like a cat in distress. “Seriously, I’ve never heard anyone make that chord sound so… unique.” His teasing is always light-hearted, but it’s paired with genuine admiration for your willingness to try. And when you finally nail it? He’s beaming with pride, as if you’ve just won a Grammy. “Told you! I knew you could do it. Now play it again—I need this on video for when you’re famous.”

On tough days, Will’s support is a quiet, steady force. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you’re feeling down, even if you try to hide it. Without a word, he’ll wrap you in a hug, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “Talk to me.” And when you do, he listens—actually listens. He doesn’t try to fix everything (unless you ask him to), but he’ll remind you of your strength and resilience. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, his voice firm but gentle. “And even if you don’t feel like you do, I’ve got you. Always.”

Will’s encouragement isn’t just reserved for big moments, either. He celebrates the small victories with just as much enthusiasm. Did you survive a particularly gruelling day at work? He’ll show up with your favourite takeout and a movie, ready to pamper you. “You’re a rock star, and rock stars deserve the VIP treatment.”

But what makes Will’s support so special is how deeply personal it is. He pays attention to the little things—your favourite comfort foods, the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He knows when you need a pep talk, when you need a distraction, and when you just need someone to sit with you in silence. And he’s always there, without fail.

His belief in you is unshakeable. Even when you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t. “You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and you’re capable of anything you set your mind to,” he’ll say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.”

With Will by your side, you feel invincible. His support isn’t just words—it’s in the way he shows up for you, day after day, in big ways and small. He’s your partner, your teammate, and your biggest fan. And no matter what life throws your way, you know you’ll always have him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

Car Rides

Car rides with Will are an experience in themselves. He’s always the one behind the wheel, and you’re perfectly content being his passenger princess. With you who's in control of the music, and you take full advantage of it. Whether you’re in the mood for girly pop, rock and roll, Afrobeats, jungle, reggae, or even a random playlist of your favourite guilty pleasures, Will never complains. He embraces it, turning every drive into a mini concert filled with laughter and the occasional side-eye from strangers at traffic lights.

You love how he lets you take charge of the aux, trusting your musical instincts even when your choices are… questionable. One day, you might blast upbeat pop anthems, singing at the top of your lungs as he chuckles beside you. “Okay, but why do I lowkey know all the words to this?” he’ll say, pretending to be embarrassed before joining in on the chorus. Another day, you might switch it up with some smooth reggae or high-energy Afrobeats, and he’ll bob his head along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. “You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that,” he’ll tease, even if he’s secretly adding some of your songs to his own playlist.

The best moments are when you both get so into the music that you forget the world around you. You’ll be belting out a duet to some cheesy love song, completely off-key but having the time of your lives, when you catch people in the next car staring at you. Will, never one to back down from a bit of fun, will roll down the window and shout, “What? Never seen a Grammy-winning performance before?” before bursting into laughter and speeding off when the light turns green.

Long drives are your favourite. Whether it’s a road trip to somewhere new or just a leisurely cruise around town, the car becomes your little bubble of happiness. You’ll pack snacks, throw a blanket in the backseat just in case, and let the music set the mood. Will’s driving is smooth and confident, and you love how he occasionally reaches over to hold your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he focuses on the road. “You good over there, princess?” he’ll ask, glancing at you with a smile. And you’ll nod, feeling completely at ease because, with him, even the simplest moments feel special.

Sometimes, the drives are quiet, the music playing softly in the background as you both enjoy the comfortable silence. Other times, they’re filled with lively conversations, random debates, or Will’s hilarious commentary on whatever’s happening outside. “Did that guy just try to parallel park in one go? Bold move,” he’ll say, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Or, “That billboard says ‘World’s Best Coffee.’ Challenge accepted.” And just like that, you’re pulling into a random café to test their claim, laughing the entire time.

But no matter where you’re going or what you’re listening to, the car rides always feel like yours. It’s your space to be silly, to be serious, to be yourselves. And Will wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Side

Beneath Will’s laid-back, easygoing exterior I see lies a fiercely protective streak, especially when it comes to you. While he’s usually the type to brush things off with a joke or a sarcastic remark, the moment someone disrespects you or crosses a line, his playful demeanour is gone.

Will’s protectiveness isn’t the loud, over-the-top kind. It’s subtle but firm. He’s the type to notice things others might miss—a snide comment, a dismissive tone, or even a lingering look that makes you uncomfortable. And while he might not always call it out immediately (he prefers to gauge how you feel about it first), he’s always ready to step in at the moment you need him.

Like if someone makes a backhanded comment about you in a social setting, Will’s response is sharp but calculated. He’ll tilt his head, feigning confusion, and say something like, “Oh, I’m sorry—did you mean to say that out loud? Because it sounded like utter bullshit.” His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear he’s not joking. And if the person tries to laugh it off or double down, he’ll hit them with a perfectly timed quip that leaves them speechless.

But it’s not just about witty comebacks. If someone genuinely hurts you—whether it’s a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger—he’s quick to reassure you that their behaviour says more about them than it does about you. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are doesn’t deserve a second of your time,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm.

What makes Will’s protectiveness so endearing is how he balances it with respect for your independence. He never tries to fight your battles for you unless you ask him to. Instead, he understands that you can stand up for yourself and is often there offering quiet support and encouragement. “You don’t need me to defend you,” he’ll say with a grin. “You’re perfectly capable of putting people in their place. But just in case, I’ll be right here, ready to back you up.” (definitely would hold your earrings and purse if you were to scrap with someone)

And when it comes to physical safety, Will’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. If you’re walking home late at night, he’ll insist on accompanying you, even if it’s out of his way. If you’re feeling uneasy in a crowded place, he’ll subtly position himself between you and whatever—or whoever—is making you uncomfortable. And if anyone dares to threaten you, his calm, sarcastic facade drops entirely. He becomes a force to be reckoned with, his voice low and steady as he says, “You have one more chance to apologise and walk away before this gets ugly.”

With him by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and fiercely defended. And while you might not always need his protection, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, Will will always have your back.

Surprise Dates

Between his busy schedule and the demands of everyday life, you make it a point to plan dates that are thoughtful, fun, and meaningful. You’ve made it a tradition to try something new at least once a month, while the other dates revolve around activities you both love. Whether it’s a spontaneous road trip, a nostalgic arcade night, or a fancy dinner at a place he’s been wanting to try, you always find ways to make him feel special—and he absolutely adores it.

You know how much Will appreciates surprises, so you’ve become a master at planning ahead. You keep a mental (or physical) list of things he mentions in passing—like a new restaurant he wants to check out, a movie he’s excited to see, or a place he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when the time is right, you spring the surprise on him. His face lights up every time, and the way he grins when he realises what you’ve planned is worth every bit of effort.

Another month, you might plan a random road trip to a nearby town neither of you has explored. You’ll pack a picnic, create a playlist of his favourite songs, and let him take the wheel. The excitement in his eyes when he realises where you’re headed is priceless. “You’re seriously the best,” he’ll say, squeezing your hand as he starts the car. Along the way, he’ll take detours to roadside attractions, insisting on stopping for silly photo ops and spontaneous adventures. “Look at this place!” he’ll exclaim, pulling over at a giant dinosaur statue or a retro diner. “We have to take a picture. This is peak road trip material.” And of course, you’ll oblige, laughing as he strikes ridiculous poses and insists on making the memories as over-the-top as possible (though he takes cute couple pictures as well).

And then there are the fancy dates—the ones where you pull out all the stops. You’ll book a table at that upscale restaurant he’s been talking about for weeks, or you’ll surprise him with tickets to a show or event he’s been dying to see. On those nights, you love seeing him dressed up, his usual casual vibe swapped for something more polished. “Look at you, all fancy,” you’ll tease, and he’ll shoot back with a smirk, “What can I say? I clean up nice. But not as nice as you.”

What makes these dates so special is how much thought you put into them. You know how busy Will’s schedule can be, so you always plan ahead to make sure the timing works. You’ll coordinate with his friends or coworkers if needed, and you’re not above bribing them with coffee or baked goods to keep the surprise under wraps. And when the day finally arrives, you love seeing the look on his face. “You planned all this for me?” he’ll ask, his voice soft with disbelief. “Of course I did,” you’ll reply, smiling. “You deserve it.”

But it’s not just about the big surprises. You also make time for the little things—like cosy movie nights at home, complete with his favourite snacks and a blanket fort, or lazy Sunday mornings where you cook breakfast together and spend hours talking and laughing. Those moments are just as important, and they remind you both why you fell in love in the first place.

With every date, whether big or small, you show Will how much he means to you. And in return, he makes sure you know how much he appreciates it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he’ll say, pulling you close after a particularly memorable outing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.” And as you smile up at him, you know that these moments—these carefully planned, perfectly executed surprises—are what make your relationship so special.

Social Media PDA

I think Will is the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and that extends to his social media presence. While he respects your desire to keep a low profile due to your job, he’s not shy about showing the world how much he adores you. His Instagram is a mix of his work, his hobbies, and, of course, glimpses of your relationship. He’s the type to post pictures of the two of you without a second thought, whether it’s a candid shot of you laughing at something he said or a cosy selfie from a date night. Or a goofy photo of you both making faces at the camera.

His captions are always playful and affectionate. “Caught this one mid-laugh. Guess I’m funnier than I thought” or “Date night with my favourite person. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”. The comments are always flooded with fans gushing over how cute you two are together, and Will loves reading them, often showing you the funniest or sweetest ones with a proud grin. “Look, they’re saying we’re goals. Can’t argue with that.”

But it’s not just the photos. You occasionally pop up in the background of his videos, whether it’s a behind-the-scenes clip from one of his projects or a casual vlog. Sometimes it’s just your hand in the frame as you pass him a coffee, or your voice chiming in with a sarcastic comment that makes him burst out laughing. Fans have come to love these little moments, dubbing them “crumbs” and saying that they’re being “fed” whenever you make an appearance. “We see you back there!” they’ll comment, or “The way he looks at her when she talks… I can’t. 😭”

Will finds the whole thing hilarious and endearing. He loves how much his fans adore you, even though you’re not in the spotlight yourself. “They’re obsessed with you,” he’ll say, scrolling through the comments. “Can’t blame them, though. I’m obsessed with you too.” And while you prefer to stay out of the public eye, you can’t help but smile at the way he proudly includes you in his world, even if it’s just in small, subtle ways.

There are times when he’ll sneak in a little more PDA than usual, just to mess with you. Like the time he posted a video of the two of you cooking together, and he casually dropped a kiss on your forehead mid-sentence. The internet went wild, and you playfully scolded him for it later. “You’re such a show-off,” you said, and he just shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like showing the world how lucky I am.”

Despite his public displays of affection, Will is careful to respect your boundaries. He never shares anything too personal or invasive, and he always checks with you before posting something that features you prominently. “You good with this?” he’ll ask, showing you a photo or video before hitting post. And if you ever say no, he doesn’t hesitate to scrap it, no questions asked. “Your comfort comes first,” he’ll say, and it’s one of the many reasons you love him.

For Will, it’s simple: he’s proud of you, proud of your relationship, and he wants the world to know it. And even though you prefer to stay behind the scenes, you can’t help but feel a little flutter of happiness every time you see one of his posts and realise, all over again, just how much he loves you.

Spicy Headcanons

Rough or soft?

Will is the kind of partner who knows exactly what you need, even before you do. Whether it’s a night of tender affection or one where he pushes you to the edge, he always makes sure you feel safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

Soft Moments

When the mood calls for softness, Will is all about making you feel adored. He’ll take his time, his touches gentle and deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His kisses are slow and sweet, starting at your lips and trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and everywhere else he knows you love to be touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your skin, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes your heart swell. “I could spend forever like this, just you and me.” His hands will roam your body with reverence, tracing patterns that leave you shivering. He’ll whisper praise in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves the way you respond to him, and how lucky he feels to have you in his arms.

These are the moments where he’s all about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your happiness. He’ll hold you close afterward, his fingers brushing through your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. “You’re my everything,” he’ll say, and you’ll believe him, because in those moments, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Rough Moments

But then there are the nights when Will’s more dominant side takes over. It’s not about anger or frustration—it’s about trust, about pushing boundaries, and exploring the raw connection between you. On these nights, he’s in complete control, and he knows exactly how to make you unravel.

He’ll start slow, his touch firm but teasing, building you up until you’re trembling with need. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he’ll pull back, his grip tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He’ll edge you relentlessly, his hands and mouth working you to the brink over and over again until you’re a writhing, desperate mess. Tears might prick at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you beg him for release. But he won’t give in—not until he’s sure you’ve reached your limit. “You can take it,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance. “I know you can.” Of course, you can; you haven’t said the safe word yet.

Foreplay

Will is the kind of man who takes his time, savouring every moment of intimacy with you. He’s not just interested in the end goal—he’s obsessed with the journey, with the way he can make you unravel under his touch. For Will, foreplay is an art form, and you are his masterpiece. He loves watching you moan, squirm, and barely hold onto yourself, knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge.

It starts with his hands, always so deliberate and sure. He’ll trace patterns along your skin, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loves the way you shiver under his touch, the way your breath hitches when he finds that one spot that makes you gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” he’ll murmur, the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. “I love how you react to me.”

His mouth. Damn his mouth. He’ll press kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach—everywhere but where you want him most, just to tease you. “Will,” you’ll whine, your hands tangling in his hair, and he’ll chuckle against your skin, the vibration making you squirm. “Patience, love,” he’ll say, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he finally does give you what you want, it’s with a slow, deliberate intensity that leaves you breathless. He’ll watch you as he works, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in every moan, every whimper, every desperate plea for more. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll say, his voice rough with need. “I could watch you fall apart all day.”

But Will isn’t just about physical touch—he’s a master of words, too. He’ll whisper filthily sweet nothings in your ear, his voice a mix of praise and promise. “You take me so well,” he’ll say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love how you sound, how you feel, how you’re all mine.” His words are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and they only make you want him more.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re a trembling, incoherent mess, barely able to form a sentence. But Will isn’t satisfied until he’s sure you’re completely undone. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his hands and mouth working in tandem to push you even further. “I want to hear you beg.”

I hope people don't mind that I only wrote two spicy scenes. Sorry, I kinda ran out of ideas lol. Anyways… how did people like the headcannons? These are headcannons right?

[goreandbunnies]

⛧☾༒︎ 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ༒︎☽⛧

Sukuna x Reader, Toji x Reader

Summary ๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Almost six months after meeting him, I had finally managed to escape. At least that's what I thought, hidden in that alley, holding my breath and waiting for the search party to get further away from my spot. But this city was his, he had eyes everywhere. I needed to leave as far away as I could."

Warnings ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Explicit language, sexual explicit scenes, sexual assault, drugs and alcohol, explicit violent scenes, gun violence, emotional and physical manipulation, dub-con, mentions of cults, blood and blood play, knife play.

Word count ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 38k (in progress)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more & @cafekitsune

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 4

Life slowly went back to normal after that night. Amy and I - after a well deserved break to recover from her hangover - kept on planning hers and Ben’s wedding. Last minute details since she had hired the best wedding planner in town and it was pretty much imminent. We were simply going over everything over and over again to make sure it was perfect. The injury on my head had been completely forgotten after a couple of days, however the memory of the two men who had saved me was still very much instact, no matter how much I tried to bury it under a mountain of denial.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married next week,” I grinned at my best friend as I flipped through her wedding binders and folders. “Remember when you said you’d wait until you’re fifty to even consider dating a man?” She looked up from her iPad and rolled her eyes.

“And then Ben almost ran me over, sounds like a cheap rom-com, doesn’t it?” We both snickered, reminiscing about high school and Amy’s numerous boyfriends.

The weather outside was absolutely terrible. For a mid June afternoon, the rain sure was a pest. Amy and I were sitting inside our favorite coffee shop, only a couple of other tables were occupied, most people were staying home in this weather. 

I couldn’t blame them, I would’ve done the same if not for Amy. She was sick of being cooped up, the nerves hitting her harder now that the wedding was approaching and staying home or coming over to mine was simply not an option to her. 

“Hey, I’m gonna get us a refill and then we can double check the floral arrangements,” she stood up, collecting our mugs and nodding at the mess on our table. “I’m pretty sure I saw some lilies when I specifically asked for white peonies, I’ll be right back,” she hurried over to the counter, leaving me alone to flip through pictures. 

Looking for my favorite pen, I searched the table before patting my jacket’s pockets and leaned in to grab my purse.

“Where is it?” I whispered as I rummaged through my stuff. 

In my haste, some of my belongings slid from my purse onto my lap, spilling out like dirty secrets. I fished out my pen from my bag and replaced everything in there before I realized what I was holding. Something that I had never seen or owned before. 

A small flat token, innocent looking if not for the Apple logo on it and the words engraved on its shiny surface. AirTag. My eyes widened in horror as the small disk laid in my palm. This wasn’t mine and it couldn’t have ended up at the bottom of my purse randomly. 

My hand started shaking a little. My brain was spinning, trying to wonder how the Hell it ended up in there. Aside from going to work - where I was alone for the most time - the last time I went out was… that night. Amy and Ben’s party. 

My lips parted in utter shock as I replayed the night’s events, down to the moment where a certain pink haired man handed me my purse and jacket before I left. How he insisted on taking them from the clerk to hand them to me instead. 

“No way,” I dropped the AirTag back on my lap and reached for my denim jacket’s pockets. 

I erratically slid my hand into the outside pockets, looking for another of those tracking devices, realizing that I had taken both my purse and jacket to work. Back home. To my favorite bookstore, to Amy’s. Everywhere. 

When I thought I had been paranoid for nothing, my fingers brushed a cold, flat surface in the inner hidden pocket. Slowly, as if it was about to explode, I took out the second AirTag and laid both in my sweaty palm.

Two small disks. One for each of the psychopaths who had saved me from Brad four nights ago. I stared at them, frozen when one started beeping. 

“Okay, one soy milk matcha for you and two shots of espresso for me,” Amy chimed in as I closed my hand over the two tracking devices that felt like they were burning through my palm. “Oh and you would never guess who I saw in the line! I told him to join us, he asked us about you a lot since the party.”

“Amy… tell me you didn’t,” I closed my eyes as one of the AirTags buzzed in my closed hand.

“Of course I did,” she leaned in over the table and whisper-yelled at me. “He’s hot and he’s obviously into you. I’m not asking you to marry the guy, but at least take him as your date to the wedding,” she scolded me.

“He’s a psycho-” I whisper-yelled back at her before a large, warm hand landed on my shoulder. 

“Ladies,” he purred. “I hope I’m not interrupting, Amy,” he politely added, his hand still cupping my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. I stared angrily at my best friend as I swatted his hand away.

“Definitely not. Have a seat,” she invited him with a bright smile, collecting some of the papers on the free side of our table. 

“If you insist then,” he smirked as he walked from behind me, his long legs swaying past before he pulled a chair and gracefully sat down. 

To my dismay, he looked even better than how I remembered him. The messy pink hair, the perfectly fitted navy blue suit and the white shirt open at the collar, showing off some of the lines on his chest. The. Damn. Smirk. I squeezed the AirTags in my hand as he rested his elbows on the table and his head on his closed fist. 

“How have you been doing, Elle?” He asked ever so politely, closing his trap around my best friend to get her in his good graces.

“Wonderful,” I replied dryly, reaching for my cup and taking a sip of the pale green drink. 

“You left so abruptly the other night,” he shrugged, sitting back in his chair, his knee touching mine. I crossed my leg away from his. “I didn’t mean to scare you away,” I huffed.

“Sure thing,” I nodded, avoiding his piercing reddish brown eyes. 

“Forgive her, Sukuna,” Amy joined in, sitting back as well. “She’s just grumpy cause the wedding is in a week and she still doesn’t have a date,” she playfully smirked at me. 

“Don’t you dare, Ames,” I said, gritting my teeth.

“What? I’m just helping you out here,” she raised her hands as Sukuna observed us like we were the most amusing thing he’d seen in ages. Amy nodded at the pink haired man. “According to Ben, you’re coming alone as well?” she asked him and he nodded, the trap closing again. “I think Elle would love to be your date as a way to thank you for taking care of her the other night,” she crossed her hands on the table and I instantly knew I had lost.

Because if that’s what she wanted, then I’d do it. For her. My shoulders sagged in defeat as I looked over at Sukuna, not even concealing his triumphant joy. Amy’s phone buzzed on the table and she excused herself, needing to take that call from her wedding planner. The next second, I was alone with my date. 

“Should I take you dress shopping then?” He raised his eyebrows playfully. 

“I already have a dress, thank you very much,” I replied, replacing the mug on the table. “I’m doing this for Amy, don’t get your hopes up here,” before he could add anything, I dropped the AirTags on the table in front of him. “What the fuck is that?” I asked angrily.

However, he didn’t say a thing - but his growing smirk only confirmed what I already knew. These were his and Toji’s. No doubt about that. I slid them closer to him.

“At least own your shit, you psycho,” I spat just as angrily. But he only kept staring at me.

“What color is it?” He simply asked, his smile fading slightly.

“What?” I frowned, confused by the random question.

“Your dress, for Amy and Ben’s wedding,” he sighed, annoyed and almost… bored? “What color is it? I need to know how to match our outfits,” he casually added, readjusting his cufflinks. I stared at him for a second.

“Sea green,” I simply said, watching him nod it off before he fished out his phone and dialed a number. The next second, my phone rang.

“There, you have my number too now,” he hung up and put his phone back in his jacket then stood up, buttoning it. His large hand collected the AirTags on the table. “I got everything I need, no need for those anymore,” he smirked and I almost slapped the shit out of him.

In less than a week, this psycho had saved me from a lifelong creep only to replace him. Manipulated my best friend to get closer to me, stalked me and slithered like a snake in my life. At this point, I considered changing the locks and changing my number. But somehow I knew that he wouldn’t let go, not until he got what he truly wanted, which was still the big question.

“Why are you doing this?” I looked up at him as he put his chair away, the picture of a gentleman. “I’m sure there are lots of women who’d be more than happy to entertain you,” I watched as he leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“Because challenges are way more entertaining,” his hand brushed my hair to the side of my neck. “Your love and devotion will only taste sweeter once you willingly offer both to me,” his lips were so close to my ear. I swallowed the knot in my throat and turned my head to face him. 

“It’s never happening, once the wedding is over, I’m done with you,” his face was mere inches from mine, his hand still at the back of my neck, his thumb brushing my skin. 

“I’m patient, extremely stubborn…” he suddenly twirled a strand of my hair from the back of my hand around his fingers and gently tugged on it, tilting my head back. “And you will eventually give in, those are facts.”

“Fuck you,” I breathed before his mouth descended on my cheek, awfully close to the corner of my lips and he planted a soft kiss there, keeping me in place thanks to that strand of hair. 

“Soon, I promise,” he winked at me before eventually letting go of my hair and leaving the coffee shop.

My heart was about to break free from my chest from beating so hard. I was convinced that the entire shop had seen something so obscene when it was barely a kiss. I was the only one who had felt it as a deeply overwhelming gesture, something that meant more than an innocent peck on the cheek.

Amy eventually came back and had to cut our afternoon short to pick up something from Ben. She offered to drop me home but I needed to clear my head by walking until my feet hurt. 

It wasn’t until much later, when I got back home after locking the door and checking it twice, that I allowed myself to freak out as I took the two AirTags from my jacket’s pocket and placed them side to side on top of my bed. 

Taglist ♥ @sweetlandspos @tojislittleprincesss @paradisestarfishh @unheavenlypacked

Copyright © goreandbunnies 2024-2025, all rights reserved, do not repost, use or plagiarize

[sapphiresaphics]

Severance: my best guess.

This will contain spoilers from season 1 to season 2 Episode 7.

I’ve not tried to do any theory crafting for Severance yet, so I’m gonna try now based on all the available information we have.

So the Eagan family is a bit of a cult. It started in the late 1800’s with a guy who worked in an Ether factory. Ether is used by doctors as an anesthetic and is primarily used in surgeries. Ether can also cause hallucinations and distorted thinking.

Which brings me to Kier Eagan and his 4 tempers and his 9 principals. Kier supposedly conquered the 4 tempers (Woe, Frolic, Dread, and Malice). These would be emotions that he feels were detrimental to life. And he created the 9 principals (Vision, Verve, Wit, Cheer, Humility, Benevolence, Nimbleness, Probity, Wiles) as emotional virtues that he cherished.

It would not surprise me that this old man working in an ether factory frequently had hallucinations and visions and wrote down his stories as a distorted Bible of sorts. “These are the things that hold you back, these are the things that make you strong” sort of thing. And because this was a business and he was the CEO (a crazy CEO but a CEO nevertheless) these principals and tenants were passed down through the generations.

And for our immediate purposes it seems to have worked. The Lumon company grew from a small Ether factory that made topical salves, to a giant tech company that has their hands in many pies all over the world. Kinda like how Google went from an internet search browser to basically owning everything we interact with today.

And over the years that cult like devotion to Keir Eagan and his mantras has resulted in the corporation of Lumon wanting to impose Keri’s wisdom and will on the rest of humanity, as most religions often want to do.

Fast forward and they’ve developed a technology that can separate your consciousness into two beings. Memories for each consciousness only exist for that consciousness and cannot transfer over to the other. The severance procedure.

This procedure allows people to go to work, but never actually deal with work because their innie is the one doing all the unpleasant tasks for them. Great on the surface, but there’s a twist. That other consciousness of yours that is created… well it’s another person. With its own wants and dreams and desires. And as this procedure is being tested Lumon discovers that these innies are increasingly resistant to having their entire lives be reduced to working forever until they die.

So Lumon has a problem. I believe they think the reason these innies are so unhappy is because they have the 4 tempers in them. It’s not because they’re people with wants and dreams, it’s because they also have Woe, Frolic, Dread, and Malice in them. That’s why the innies keep fighting back.

Stepping back for a minute we are also aware that Lumon raises kids through various programs. Harmony Cobel was raised through some sort of “girls for Lumon” program. As most likely was Milchek and Miss Wong. And these programs seem to focus heavily on removing emotion from your essence. Cobel was praying to keep her emotions under control, Milchek was practicing in a mirror to adhere to Lumon’s desires for him. And Wong can’t graduate from her fellowship until she is deemed worthy.

I think what the Macro Data Refiners are doing is finding these components and providing data for the severance chips to suppress these emotions. To ensure that they aren’t being preferable to any of the data, it’s all sent to them encoded and jumbled up. But some numbers “feel” a certain way. And the MDR members are able to basically sense these emotions and bin them. “You feel the hurt down there too, you just don’t know what it is.”

Remember this is a corporation and they are pushing a product they want everyone in the world to get. So if the goal of this product is to push the idea that you can get this medial procedure and then ever again have to experience anything negative ever, they need to ensure that when outies return to consciousness that no negative side effects linger.

And Gemma is their test subject for this procedure. They are using her by placing her into various different stressful environments and situations, adjusting the chips, and seeing when she comes out of them if she feels or recalls anything negative.

I don’t know if the point of the chips will be to control the innies as well, removing all will to resist or something along those lines. They’ve shown surprisingly little care into the lives of the innies. But they do seem to at least be aware that controlling the innies is a problem. That’s why they lean so heavily on the cult stuff. That’s why they isolate departments and keep everyone fearful of one another.

I think that’s also why Bert is different. He seems to RELISH in the vices. A “scoundrel” as he calls himself. He seems to believe that innies deserve to experience pleasure. He is the snake to Lumon’s garden of Eden if you will. Since he’s a partner with Lumon, it’s possible that he views the innies as a source of allowing people to express those carnal desires and thoughts free from the guilt of having them as an outie.

And we’ve seen at least with the waffle party that Lumon has this belief in mastering and overcoming those same vices and pleasures. Why else would the waffle party have the 4 tempers dancing erotically while the “founder” sits in the bed and does nothing, whip in hand ready to strike if they rustle their emotions?

So this is Lumon’s pitch to the world. Imagine you never have to worry about doing anything negative you don’t want ever again. Get this wonderful medical procedure and you’ll be able to, at the push of a button, skip over your entire work day and just come home refreshed and happy to continue to live your life. If you want to have a baby and don’t want to deal with the pain of childbirth, just use the severance chip to skip over that! Don’t want to do a boring repetitive task like writing Christmas thank you notes? Don’t want to fly on an airplane? Don’t want to go to the dentist? Just use our chip and skip over that moment and get on with your life.

And of course this has extreemly dangerous implications for the rest of the world. What if you want to go to war but don’t want to deal with the fear of dying? What if you want an army of people who can perform manual labor all day without rest? What if you want to have sex but don’t want the shame or fear you might have a kid? Any Vice or fear or labor you need… Severance will be there to take care of it.

And for Lumon’s part… well that’s potentially even more sinister. We don’t know what their goal is, but good god can you imagine if Google had access to your brain and at a moment’s notice they could just switch you off??? We’ve seen that the Overtime Contingency works outside of the Lumon building. Giving a CULT access to EVERYONE in the world that they can manipulate at any time would be… horrific.

“They will all be Kier’s children”

So I think that’s the plan. Perfect this technology so they can market it as a way to bypass your negative feelings, but it’s a Trojan horse. You’re actually surrendering your will and personhood to this cult. A cult who can use you to do anything they want. Make anything they need. Do any task they want. And you’d never know it, because you’re no longer the outie.

Fucking TERRIFYING.

[guzhufuren]

Hey, I've noticed you've been pretty quiet lately and I hope you're doing okay. I know we're not friends or even mutuals so I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by messaging! I hope the world will treat you kindly and that you can find comfort and support if you need it 💕

hi sweetheart wow this is so genuinely nice and kind of you, thank you so much for caring to the point of reaching out

i'm on the way there! i will be okay, hopefully soon. it's not serious, i just had a medium sized break down after receiving a very negative comment on something i made, in mix with a bit of unrelated loneliness and yearning on top of that, plus many many 4am drowsy what-am-i-doing-with-my-life regretful thoughts that i have had in the last months swimming up. like for my unwellness history it's really only about 6 points on the scale where the maximum is 10, so not big. i turned all social apps off but couldn't shake off the distress caused by that one stranger on the internet being unkind to my project, despite knowing they were misunderstanding and were also not in a state to understand at all, so i was kind of confused about what's up with my brain and why it can't move on

and it was a good choice! because after being only with myself without any internet distractions for the first time in years, figured out in just a day that mood swings have been back for a while, over one month at least (so anger issues weren't totally Yunho's fault actually bless him), some other parts of mental health worsened too

got a grip on myself, went to my doctor, got back on meds, now i'm sleepy every minute of waking hours while my body is getting used to them again, but it's gonna be fine. received advice on how to write a mood log, turns out very helpful as additional treatment to keep hypomania and anxiety under control. i even started working out, doing memory exercises and preparing my exam notes tentatively, which is so hard and scary, oh my god, but i must. job search is even scarier but i'm working myself up to finding a good one with little, very very very very tiny steps but they are moving

in the first day of self made quarantine i rewatched the queer korean show Love for Love's Sake that cured me from depression for a while and from any possibility of suicidality for a lifetime last year. it didn't work the trick again, because i'm really not living in the best or even just calm psychological environment to let it do its magical healing thing the way it should, but it did give me new clarity and make me intensely cry some shit out, so that was also very nice

accidentally found the best fic ever and it brought me so much very needed comfort in the past week. it's sweet, funny and stress free. like a warm blanket. or a cup of vanilla cocoa that makes your cold toes tingle in winter. or a hug from the love of your life. first atz and woosan fic to enter my hall of all time longfic favourites. very rare honor but it deserves it completely

also found a bunch of bloggers who post videos of the ocean in Thailand, some even stream the beach 24/7. it's so cool, i watch it in the evenings for short periods of time. helps making it bearable to just survive here a little bit longer until i am able leave

i sort of of really like that when i don't spend 12 hours a day on the phone doing mind-numbing scrolling or posting, there is so much free time to do cool stuff? i have kinda felt like i can be back on here for a couple of days, but i still freak out a bit for two reasons. first, that bad comment is still hanging there and it still makes me too upset to open notifications or my own blog page, which is ridiculous but that's how my dumbass unwell-brain-made feelings are. so i will see how that goes away and i get over it like an adult. second, i'm scared to be sucked back in the addiction to the colourful little hellsite app so i usually end up throwing the phone away in panic after 5 minutes of the app being open. maybe i will work up to it more gradually, don't know, let's see how that goes too

thank you again my little treasure, i will happily take that kindness and comfort you offered here as you are a part of the world. and you can message without worrying anytime, no mutualship or officially labelled friendship necessary. i'm very cool with small amount of interactions, just not big on chatting online one on one for long and don't enjoy it super much. and also with how often i see you around we are considered friends for sure. so thank you again for being so sweet i really am so grateful to you for this, one hundred friend hugs in return

[justatypicalwizard]

Meta-isekai | K. Bakugo ✧ Act II Scene I

-`♡´- In which Bakugo gets isekaied into a shoyo romance. -`♡´-

Peak stupidity ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Act II ༊*·˚

Scene I: Winning the martial arts competition (easy)

ʚɞ “Okay, so you said I’m a part of the martial arts club, yeah?” Bakugo whispered to The Cat sitting on his desk. He was currently getting ready for school and scheming the first move in their big plan.

“Yes, and there’s an upcoming event connected with it today.” The Cat answered, its tail drawing lazy circles in the air behind it.

“The school sports day, I’ve heard about it from others. I learned that the previous Katsuki signed up for tug of war.”

“Yes, but because you haven’t been to a training yet you don’t know that in the morning, during the sports day, you will be competing against other schools in the finale of the regional martial arts cup.”

This made Bakugo turn around and crook a brow. Getting to kick some asses early in the morning only to get to kick more asses in the afternoon? What a pleasure.

“Not a problem.” He shrugged.

“It will be extremely important. The school didn’t really gain any significant wins for a while now so everyone is rooting for your club to break the hoodoo. With my boost to luck Crush will also be watching.”

“Not a problem.” The blonde repeated turning back towards his wardrobe.

ʚɞ Certainly, winning the martial arts cup wasn’t a problem. Bakugo, although trained in many forms of contact force, refreshed his memory on the rules of the particular style that he was competing in. Finding the training clothes in a locker at school he went to extra-early training just before the cup. It was mostly good stretching, briefing about the strategy, pairing and rules, as well as some light combats to get the team into a fighting spirit.

ʚɞ Some of the faces of his teammates looked familiar, as if he saw them previously. They must have been people from his UA but from other classes, that he only passed on the corridors. Anyway, they all seemed to get along well while not being too intimate with each other.

ʚɞ Curious students quickly filled the gymnasium. Most were from UA, but there were also a bunch from other schools as guests cheering for their players. It was getting louder and louder up to the point when the overlooking coach began the competition.

ʚɞ No all of the present competitors were actually taking part. Some of them came as substitute players, others weaseled their way in to skip school. The chosen group was fairly slim, Bakugo being one of them.

ʚɞ All of his combats went quite quick, no one standing a change against him. It made the crowd cheer every time he stepped onto the mat. People pointed fingers at him, girls whispered and dudes clapped their hands loud every time he won.

ʚɞ When the cup was over, the medals were handed (gold for the blonde) and respects were paid, Bakugo got swarmed by his teammates and their friends.

“How did you do it? Did you get superpowers overnight?” One of his teammates laughed.

Some of them started to point out how shaken they were with his form. He was good, that’s why he played a part in the finale, but not that good! At one point the discussion got loud and out of Bakugo’s control. They started asking questions.

“I trained at home.” He gave them a white lie. He did train at home - back in his universe, with the thought of encountering actual villains, being in danger and relying his life solely on his skill and power. They didn’t need to know that part.

“Soo cool! Did the coach help you?”

“No, I’ve done it by myself. Just did some research.” He shrugged it off.

“But why didn’t you tell us?” Another one of his teammates, a rather thin guy who sat the whole tournament on the bench, asked.

This stirred some interest. You could have trained with us. We would all get better. You could have at least showed us where you learned all these things so we could try ourselves.

“Have you done it to be the best? Behind our backs?” The thin subsidiary crossed his arms on his chest.

All of them looked his way. Some had eyes wide, the thought never occurred to them but now, when it had been said aloud, it was the only scenario they could think about. Others glanced away and clammed up, they seemed to have expected it. Did the other Katsuki have had some quarrels with them before?

“Tell them you trained to impress someone.” Suddenly, Bakugo felt a weight on his shoulder. The Cat’s whiskers tickled his cheek. “She’s watching.”

From the corner of his eye he saw her, the Crush. Indeed she was standing with a group of friends, the same from the classroom Bakugo noted, and listening to the conversation. The quarrel must have created a small commotion. 

Bakugo shrugged to get The Cat off but it clawed his collarbone making the boy bite the inside of his cheek not to hiss in pain.

“Say it!”

“Is it true? Did you do it to outperform all of us?”

“Say it, she’s watching!”

“Don’t be silly, you’re accusing the person who gave our school a gold medal of training on his own, in his own free time? If anything, you should be ashamed you didn’t think about it yourself.” A guy too tall for his own good (and his back) smirked and pointed an accusatory finger towards the slim subsidiary.

At that time nobody, including Bakugo, knew that the tall guy, in a green shirt with the number 10 on the front and back, was a secret fan of the explosive blonde. The previous Katsuki might have recognised him. Number 10 tried to join the martial arts club but his physics were not the best for such a sport. The coach did try him out but soon they both realised he was not meant to be. At that time he shrugged it off as too-tall-for-this but in reality he was too-lazy-for-this.

Number 10 was not eager enough to overcome the weaknesses that made him a mediocre individual sports’ player. Instead he opted for disciplines where one competed with a team, a team that would make up for his imperfections. He was fine with it. He was tall and had long arms which gave him a headstart in basketball. Still, Number 10 admired people who could become stars on their own. It was a jealousy free type of admiration. Adding his natural nonchalance to the mixture, he had no problem standing up for Bakugo.

“I’m not even surprised he didn’t tell the team. Everybody knows that your manager has a boyfriend in a different school and she tells him all the juicy stuff. If I were Bakugo I wouldn’t want the enemy team to learn about my technique either.”

Another thing that nobody, including Bakugo, knew about Number 10, and what saved the day, was that he was a massive gossip.

“That’s true. Sorry.” Someone caught up with the basketball player and the air shifted from anger and disappointment to cheers and back slaps once again. 

“So, did you really train on your own to win for us?” His teammates pried.

“Hah, as if I ever told you nerds!” He clicked his tongue but smirked.

It was not meant to be mean but cocky, playful. The blonde had no clue what the other Bakugo was up to but now he was in town and he will simply be himself until he achieves his goal. Grabbing his water bottle he sprayed some of it on his hand and combed the wet fingers through his hair making it slick for a moment.

“I’m out.” Bakugo threw over the shoulder as he turned towards Crush as her group of friends only to walk through them with a short glance her way. It made everyone turn around a watch as he exited the gymnasium into the sunny day outside.

Katsuki didn’t know what happened behind his back, whether they were still looking the way he disappeared, if they were talking between each other about him, did the girl blush even? It didn’t matter though, he’s done his part and done it sharp, on point.

The Cat sat on a fence in the distance, its lazy swaying black tail caught Bakugo’s eyes. It gave him a thumbs up. 

Tag list: @ita606 @blueberrysoaps @bakunianadecorazon

[curledupinmyarmchair]

Johnny Cashmaxxing

[u3pxx]

KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.

EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!

- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!

- “Sure is.”

DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?

YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”

DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!

YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.

INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.

ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.

HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.

KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”

YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”

LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”

YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”

YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”

KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."

He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”

EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.

YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.

YOU - “…”

KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.

YOU - “Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.

YOU - “KIM!!!!”

uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt

(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)

also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes

[12freddofrogs]

Very weird to be in that stage where a show is grabbing hold of your brain, but you haven't finished the show so you cant interact with fandom because spoilers, and you're watching it with someone else so you can't even just keep watching until you finish

[intomybubble]

I’m still playing Sims 4 and so I made a household with a Sim of myself so I can try doing a bunch of different careers (for the items lol)

I ended up romancing Don Lothario and accidentally had his kid after downloading and trying out the WW mod (we had 1 date prior, and I asked for him to live in with me afterwards).

I wasn’t paying too much attention to his name (since this was my first time playing Sims 4 since mid 2010s and I don’t know characters or lore), and used the random name generator and named our daughter, Dawn. I did not realize I basically named her after him lol.

As things are now

We’re partners and “soulmates”

I go out to work (currently doing the spy career), while he’s basically my househusband

He was a creative freelancer when he was added to my household so he makes A LOT from paintings, and sometimes music

I gave him an variation of his default everyday outfit to give him glasses (bc I’m into glasses, but “lorewise” he spends more time at a screen for work so he started to need them)

I used a mod to change his “non-committal” trait into being a family man, and bc he’d still get tense from being “non-committal” (despite trying to get rid of it) I got a “carefree” potion from the rewards store RIP

I don’t 100% remember before changing it, but he was a decent dad beforehand. Now, its super cute seeing him chat and play with our daughter

My Sim wants to marry him, but I’ve been worried about him potentially refusing so I’ve just stuck with being “partners”

I did do a wedding on a different household (OC marrying Liberty) and that was a mess especially since I have no idea what I’m doing

I do now have actual venues to use in the future instead of the ugly base game park 👍

I did give my Sim the same necklace that he wears as a sorta “promise ring” in her outfits (I think its cute lol)

Bc I’m stuck on leveling stats, we don’t leave the house that often. But the WW mod has kept things… spicy without actual dates lmao

I think I’m going to try proposing and just having an incredibly long engagement soon…

[hanasnx]

“ SHE JUST WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content: riding dick ノ playing dumb for a boy ノ some light humping ノ reader has kinda long hair ノ size difference.

you’re so desperate for clueless CLARK KENT’s attention that you play dumb and get him to mansplain his video game to you while you sit in his lap. he’s been busy lately and to get him to take the hint you wear one of your shortest skirts, invite yourself into the best seat in the house, and ask, “what’s this?” gesturing to his lit tv screen.

he explains it all, some boring lore he’s really into and the controls and the tricky part he’s stuck on right now.. and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. his pretty girl is sitting in his lap and he’s not even paying it any mind. but clark is paying it mind. he’s rambling bcos he’s nervous, and if you’d turn your head you’d see the pink dusting his cheeks. he can feel your bare thighs through his denim, and your floral shampoo fills his nose… he trails off mid sentence when he focuses too hard on the growing interest in his pants.

“i wanna play.” you say when you’ve had enough of his aimless babble, and without thinking it through, clark places the controller snugly in your palms, while his larger hands overlay yours.

“alright, so this button…” his thumb atop yours presses down in a click, and you see the avatar swipe air with his sword because of it. “is your attack move… and this—“ you’re not paying any attention to what he’s teaching you. instead, your brain conjures up evil memories of everything you’ve been missing. your eyes wander to the corner of his bed he’s sitting on, and you wish he’d fold you over on it like before. wrestle you down and pin you so he could flip your little skirt up and get to work. you’re tuning out his words while he’s playing the game over your hands which dampen with sweat, suddenly hot and bothered at the thought of him fucking you in this position… if only he were brave enough to unbuckle his pants.

your lips press together, your heart rate quickens, and clark’s ears perk up. thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…

he inhales sharply, right as the sting of what it feels like to be filled by him shoots up your core like lightning. you jump in place a little at the cruel trick your mind is playing on you, and the friction of your ass bumping against his halfie makes it twitch as it chubs up. the avatar’s HP lowers little by little as its enemies overwhelm it, but neither of you move.

“why didn’t you say anything?” clark’s breathless words come out husky and sultry as he chuffs them out of his teeth, lifting you up and down by your hips like you’re nothing more than a weight at the gym. your hands lay atop his, twisting your face as that cock buries itself right where you needed it, bullying that spongy spot in you sore from neglect. “i’ve been thinking about you, too…” he fills the silence, paired with the wet sounds of an eager pussy swallowing him up. he yanks you back, and you land on his chest still clothed, your hair bunches up on his shoulder while his lips find your ear. your hips now married with his, he rolls yours, screwing his dick into you like he’s rediscovering all your nooks n crannies.

one arm rounds you to secure you against him in a warm embrace, seeking out your clit between your spread legs, toying with it like taffy and it makes you whine.

“you didn’t have to act like you cared about my game,” he’s taunting you, right in your ear, ending it with a gentle nip of his teeth to your shell. the point of his canine sends a shock through you, and your legs straighten involuntarily. he keeps you where he wants you with overpowering strength, you can’t raise yourself when he’s got you in a vice. his thumb and index feel cruel against your bud, as if chastising you for trying to trick him.

“well, it worked, didn’t it?” you exhale, leisurely squirming against him desperate for some movement. there’s pride in your voice.

“this skirt worked.” he corrects. the skirt now bunched up around your waist about the same time he’d pushed his denim out of the way so he could free his cock and give you a new seat. “could hear your heartbeat, you were so obvious… c’mere.” he grants your wish for more, pushing you forward so he could gather your arms behind you. bent, your feet barely toe the ground while he uses your wrists to leverage you, tugging you back while he bounces you up with the force of his hips.

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[chronicdelusionistsart]

So I have been watching Danny Phantom for the first time ever with my friends and I'd kind of previously known about its reputation as a show whose fanbase dives a lot more into the lore than the show is willing to. And I guess I hadn't really understood why until now (I just finished Season 2!). Here's my sort of rambling thoughts on it.

Danny Phantom isn't a show about the horror of ghosts and the dead coexisting in the human realm. It's a show about dropping the most out of pocket lore implications you can imagine on people who in turn say things that would kill a therapist dead equally out of pocket, and then neither are addressed but the watcher has to live with the ghost of the plot that is right behind them but they can't turn around.

DP is a little hit and miss in places, but the very thing that drives people nuts about it is actually I think maybe its greatest strength: it really pulls off show, don't tell effectively. How much of that is intentional is up for debate, but the best episodes kinda leave you wondering, or sputtering like "UH, HEY, BACK UP - HEY BACK UP AND UNPACK THAT -" Is Danny's human body technically alive somehow, or is he a walking corpse? Does Danny have a door in the Ghost Zone? Were Vlad's clones feeling and sentient as they melted into ectoplasm, despite Danny's guess that they weren't? What does it say about Danny that he still erased his parents' memories after finding out they'd accept him as he is?

I think the genius of not answering these questions directly is that it's both funnier AND scarier not to. We can laugh about how fucked up it is and kinda hold our heads like "bro.... did they really just imply that, holy shiiiiiit", and that's really consistent with the emotional core of the show as this knife's-edge dance between teen comedy and horror superhero. Fully explaining the lore or being more direct about how the information is conveyed by and to the characters tips that balance and changes the show into something else, for better or for worse. And I really earnestly like it as it is, even if it's very of its time (sexism.......)! It's a really fun show with some depth to it.

Anyway, I can't wait to watch season 3! I sure hope all these wonderful qualities I like about it hold up!