#or the bad guy gets put in jail or whatever

[seijorhi]

Hi Rhi, happy Thursday :)) Time for your regularly scheduled dose of Artemis's Thursday Rants and Raves of the Collection of Seijorhi's Works <33

I've been in a heavy Haikyuu mood lately, so that obviously means I'm falling back into my Bokuto obsession, so I reread No Strings Attached and oh my gosh was it incredible

What I love about that fic is that there's no underlying plans, no great setup that leads to a huge climax - Bokuto is genuinely just unhealthily obsessed, so much so that he kidnaps the reader

Sometimes the simple, one-track minded yanderes hit the best, and Bokuto is definitely one of them

I love how you set it up, how his feelings slowly grow through the duration of the fic, and how its pointed out several times that he's somewhat emotional when he doesn't get his way - it's definitely almost foreshadowing for what happens at the end of the fic

But also the whole "no strings attached" part of it all - it was supposed to be a mutually beneficial relationship, nothing more, but of course someone had to let their emotions take over

I wonder, what would the outcome have been, had the roles been reversed (rhetorical question)

It's almost sad that the reader doesn't love him back (don't attack me, I know it's a Seijorhi Fic and no one gets happy endings, especially the reader)

But I absolutely adore your Haikyuu fics, I reread them all whenever I rewatch Haikyuu (for emotional support reasons of course - which is like every two months)

One thing I love about your fics is that every time I reread them, I notice something new

Anyway, thank you for always answering these asks, I haven't mentioned it before, but I appreciate you taking the time and effort to answer :))

Have a great weekend Rhi

Honestly, give Bokuto an inch and he's gonna take a mile, simple as that ghfjkdlfgvjhfkdsl

Often my fics tend to pit the reader against the yandere from the start – Means to an End, Bully, Final Girl, the majority of my soulmate au's lmao – but there's something fun about a slow devolve, a friend (of sorts) who pushes your boundaries just a little too far, who becomes a little too involved. She genuinely likes Bokuto, maybe not enough to want to in a fully committed relationship with him, but enough that she feels relatively safe and content to be around him doing coupley things.

Initially, at least.

But Bokuto can't help himself, can he?

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 4

masterpost

Danny was starting to suspect he had kidnapped a child. He rapped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously. Jeeze. That was bad. Was Danny the stranger danger? He hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel hard to pull off a parking trick. He didn’t intend to be the stranger danger!

‘I think that is a human child. Wow, I hate myself.’ Danny turned off the car and resisted the urge to beat himself into unconsciousness against the steering wheel. ‘But he’s been helpful. Maybe it’s fine?’

He put that anxiety away to deal with later. 

“Here we are.” Robin unbuckled gingerly, another nail in the coffin he definitely didn’t have. What kind of ghost would use a seatbelt? Danny wanted to slap himself in the face. Maybe Robin didn’t know what Danny had thought. He hadn’t called him a ghost, right? Not directly. Maybe there was a way out of this social situation that wouldn’t be really awkward.

‘He appeared out of like, nowhere,’ Danny defended himself miserably. ‘In a graveyard! He moves weird- he’s just a spooky little guy.’

It was probably the kind of mistake that anyone could make. 

Whatever. 

He let Robin take the lead, mind and stomach churning. This had been such a weird day. First off, Victor had turned out to be not Victor, and also to be a total knockout babe. Then, Jay did like, a big hero thing promising to keep Danny safe and kissed his hand and—

His face burnt at the memory. Anyway, of course he was trying to find the guy. Anyone would want to secure a date. 

‘I am starting to wonder if he’s dead, though, and I just didn’t notice. The news articles about his death and also the headstone are pretty compelling evidence. Did I fail to notice he was dead?’

In past he would have said “fat fucking chance, I am an expert.” But, uh.

‘It’s not like I’ve never been fooled before. I thought Spectra was alive at first. And...’

He cut a look at Robin. Christ, his chest was expanding. Yeah, he was breathing. Danny wound fingers through his hair and pulled. Real. Human. Child. He grimaced.

 He was going to jail for like, ever. 

“I’m a disgrace to ectology and the afterlife,” he said mournfully.

Robin cut him a surprised look, movement sharp and aptly birdlike. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Danny dismissed. “Get the door open, it’s fine.”

“Like it’s that easy,” Robin muttered, but he went back to whatever arcane stuff he was doing. Because he was not a ghost, and couldn’t just phase through. Danny stuck his hands in his pockets, resigned to seeing how this played out.

It took Robin nearly ten minutes to disarm the security system, but he opened the door to the safe house gingerly. Nothing shot them. 

“Lemme go first,” Danny said, because he sort of still hoped that Batman wouldn’t break his fingers with a novelty bat-shaped hammer for this offense. He edged past Robin and into the apartment. He flicked on a light. “Oh, there he is,” Danny said, relieved.

Robin ducked in under his shoulder shockingly fast. “Jason?” He pulled up short. 

“Yeah, he’s out of it,” Danny agreed. Jason was slouched on the sofa, hand hanging over the side. He had some kind of road rash up the side of his face, scabbing up to his left ear. He had bandages around a hand and his neck. He had stripped down to the sleeveless undershirt and sports leggings. Unf. 

“Nice,” Danny said appreciatively.

“Is he dead?” Robin asked, sotto voice. 

Danny shrugged. “Not more dead than he was before?” He hedged. 

“….Are there quantifiable variations of being dead?” Robin asked. 

Shit. Danny went stiff. “No, finish your milk,” he snapped. 

“I’m… not drinking any milk.” 

Danny frowned, thrown off his groove.

Right. This wasn’t the neighbor’s kid he occasionally babysat. That tactic wouldn’t work to shut down unwanted questions. Or would it?

“Go get some, the kitchen is over there.” 

Robin stood still and looked very offended. That was good enough. Danny pushed past him to check Jason over a little more closely. He noticed a cheap flip phone on the floor near where his hand was dangling. He picked it up to see a message on the screen that said “serry I canf come but I call latert”. It was unsent. He checked. It was almost directed to his phone: Jason had gotten the last digit wrong.

“Aww,” Danny said, charmed. “He tried.” He snapped the phone shut and made sure the guy was breathing and not bleeding through his bandages or anything. Danny checked the color of his fingernails for oxygen discoloration, his heart rate, his pallor. He finished and stood back with his hands on his hips. 

“Well?” Robin snapped. 

Danny shrugged. “His blood is inside? I’m not a doctor yet and it’s not like there’s any equipment here. His pulse is fine, color looks good…” He scratched the back of his head. “I think he’s just sleeping off a concussion.” 

“A concussion?” Robin’s voice went high. 

Jason groaned, head lolling.

“He’s up!” Danny hovered off the ground. “Hey, you undead?” He poked at Jay’s chest gently. 

Jay batted at his hand, poorly. It didn’t connect. “Mm not dead anymore,” he complained, face scrunched up. “Joker’s not dead either. Leave me to suffer.” 

“…Do you want Joker dead?” Danny asked. He cocked his head to the side. “I think we can hide that.” There was nothing saying that a prisoner transferred to the Infinite Realms had to be kept there alive. In fact, it might be more convenient for Walker if the guy fit his usual prisoners’ general description. 

“We can not hide that,” Robin interrupted. Party pooper.

He cut a sideways glance at the child. Hmm. “Isn’t it your bedtime?” Danny asked casually. They needed to ditch him to get anything done. 

“It’s time for breakfast,” Robin snarked. “Look outside.” 

“…Do I have to feed you?” Danny asked, alarmed by the expanding nature of responsibility. He didn’t wait for a response, because it was obvious. When you cart around a child, you have to feed them at mealtimes. What did Jay even have in this kitchen? Danny wasn’t a particularly accomplished cook. He crossed the apartment in a panic to peer around the fridge. 

12 eggs, still within date. Uh… there was some butter in the fridge as well, and milk with two days left. He shook the carton. Basically full. Um…. He opened cupboards in search of carbs. Nothing. 

“Freezer,” Robin suggested. 

Danny checked. “I didn’t know you could freeze bread.” He turned it over in his hands dubiously. “Okay… toast and eggs.” 

Thank god he didn’t have any classes today. He was going to crash so hard once he’d finished everything important.

Jason didn’t react to anything they had said or done. Danny stuck his head out of the kitchenette to squint at him. The guy was still immobile on the sofa.

“Maybe breakfast is what he needs,” Danny decided, dubious. But that was a real thing! People need food to recover. Calories might help him.

Robin perched on the counter and watched Danny with a weird intensity. “I’m just melting butter in a warm pan,” Danny told him. Maybe the kid didn’t know how to cook. “Wanna help? Put the bread in the toaster.” 

Robin didn’t move. “You’d better do it.” 

…weird. 

Danny took out two slices of frozen bread and stuck them in the toaster. “It’s easy, bro,” he said, nonplussed. “Insert, and pull this lever down.” He demonstrated. “Check the time— I’ve got it for two minutes, it probably won’t be enough but we can check on it.” 

He turned back to the fry pan. The butter was bubbling now. He cracked two eggs in. It sizzled pleasantly. 

The sound helped him think things through. How was he going to do this? Skulker might fight to keep his new guest. And Walker- Danny grimaced. Walker had never really forgiven him for that prison break thing. 

‘I might need to lean on someone else’s authority,’ Danny mused. ‘Walker respects other cops. So I should, like, get that police guy to come and ask for the paperwork directly.’

It felt like no time at all until he scraped an egg off onto a piece of toast and handed it to Robin. He put the other on a plate and made one more toast and egg for Jay. 

Robin followed him to the living room,  toast in hand. 

“Go on, eat up.” Danny shoved his own toast into his mouth in one ghastly crunch. His cheeks stuck out as he began chewing on it. Then he plopped down on the floor next to Jay and started prodding his face again. “Hey. Hey.” Poke. “Breakfast.” 

Jay groaned. He unsuccessfully tried several times to bat Danny’s hand away, but eventually gave up and clutched the open-faced sandwich. 

“Gucky,” Danny said, observing the very odd way Jason was gripping the egg directly. Yolk leaked out under his middle finger. But he ate it, though, so it was fine. 

He turned on Robin when he remembered he was there. “Can you get home by yourself?” He asked. 

Robin looked at him with his creepy white eyes. “…No.” His wrist was flashing red. Was that like, a bird message system? Was it some kind of alarm going off because he had gone out of the acceptable Robin roaming range? Robin was pretending not to notice it.

Danny groaned and let his head rest against Jason’s leg. “Fine,” he complained. “Uh. I’ll take you home, then go move the Joker, get paperwork from Walker, and come back to give it to- what’s up?” He looked up through his bangs. Jason had grabbed onto his hair. 

“Joker?” He peeled an eye open. “No…” 

“You heard the man,” chirped Robin. “He doesn’t want you to interfere with the course of justice.”

Jason, Danny discovered, still had the egg yolk in his hand. He discovered this because Jason flung it dead center on Robin’s face. 

“Ha,” Danny said. The child was a downer, what could he say? “I think he wants me to interfere with the course of justice,” he parroted snootily. Even though that wasn’t at all what was going on. 

“Dangerous,” Jason said. He peeled one bloodshot eye open. He looked terrible.

“You look awful,” said Danny. “Lie down- no, don’t get up, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you,” Jason grunted. He waved a hand at Robin. “And this hallucination of my childhood innocence.”

“Actually-“

“Sh.” Robin rushed to get the door open. “Support his arm, will you?” 

“You still have an egg face,” Danny told him sulkily. He picked Jason up effortlessly. He ignored the muttered:

“I can fly?” 

from his passenger. “Come in, bird, we gotta get you home before someone murders me.” Danny jangled the keys and sunk down through the floor to make a point. Robin’s shouted “hey!” was muffled through the floor. Danny snickered and settled Jason in the passenger seat.

[grlsinterrupted]

dallas winston dating hcs ˖⋆࿐໋

note : this is my first post so im sorry if the writing isn’t very good ! -

contrary to popular belief, i don’t think dallas would be the overly toxic / cheating type

i mean, his ex literally cheated on him while he was in jail

he’d protect you with his life and soul, literally hates everyone BUT you

i think that the lyrics “people say she’s bad, but they don’t see, the way she is with me” (p. u. n. k. girl by heavenly) perfectly describes your relationship

everyone thinks he’s this tough greaser, but with you? he shows a side of him that he’ll never show anyone else

any compliment you give him will literally boost his ego to the point where it’s literally overflowing

”yeah, is that right, dollface?” dallas’ lips immediately quirk up into that stupidily cocky grin you’ve always loved, his voice practically dripping with pride

once your relationship has reached a more serious stage, he’ll let you wear his st christophers necklace

ocasionally you’ll steal his rings and wear them, but he’ll act like he never noticed

its like his way of trademarking you

he also just loves how his ring is always a little too loose on your fingers

if you point out that you like something while the two of you are shopping, best believe he’d steal it for you

that gold locket necklace that you said sparkled real nicely? stuffed right in the pocket of his leather jacket.

those heels with the pink bows on them? he slipped those under his jacket right before you guys moved onto the next store.

”dal, what’s that sticking out of your pocket?”

dallas smirks, fishing through his pockets and pulling out the necklace you had just mentioned. he dangles the necklace in your face, then hands it to you with a nonchalant chuckle.

“just a lil’ trinket i got ya.”

i don’t think he’s much of a pda guy, the most you’ll get out of him while you guys are out is him putting his arm over your waist or shoulder

but as soon as he catches someone hitting on you?

not only is dallas beating that poor guy’s ass, he will make it KNOWN that you’re his girlfriend

his go-to pet names consist of baby, doll, dollface, and if he’s teasing you, he’ll use princess

”yeah, whatever, princess,” dallas mutters under his breath, running his fingers between the lace on the hem of your top

dallas is not a words of affirmation guy, he could barely say the words ‘i love you’ when you two started dating

he thinks it makes him look too ‘soft’

but that’s okay because he expresses his affection to you in other ways

it’s all of the little things he does that shows how much he loves you ♡

-

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[hai7ani]

dark red / haitani rindou

prequel

There's an itching silence in the air begging to be broken. Wants you to speak. Wants him to speak. Wants you both to talk.

You only stare at each other.

This winter was going to be a rough one, you immediately thought 一 after waking up in the hospital with no memories of how you got there, why you ended up in that state, and why you don't remember anything.

Your mother was there when you woke up 一 held your hand when you were crying in your sleep about God-knows-what, mumbling something that sounded so incoherent to her, but she swore has never seen you cry like this in front of her since you were a child.

She had seemed a little different to you. A little older, chubbier, with more wrinkles around her eyes and the grey in her hair much more prominent than yesterday.

Yesterday?

"What day is it today?" You remember asking her as soon as you'd gained consciousness and felt her wipe your tears away with a soft towel. You heard the weather forecast talking about possible snowfall later that evening.

You see the smile on your mother's face drop.

It was still summer yesterday.

She looks sad. In agony, even.

There is no way.

"It's the 2nd of December, my love." She says very, very softly. "Christmas is coming soon."

And she cries.

It was really cold out today. It wasn't snowing when you left the house. You'd expected and looked forward to be home dry and cozy still after running errands for Ma. You wanted to continue watching your movie before she'd knocked on your door and made you put on your jacket to buy something for her at the store.

And then it decides to snow all around just when a bomb gets dropped on you while you least expect it.

You're angry.

You're filled with fury. You were raging when you'd dropped everything on your mind and dragged the poor guy home with you out of impulse. He said he loved you before. That makes you both each other's exes 一 you've dated him, he's dated you.

You loved each other, and you don't remember a single thing about it at all.

Like what the hell do you mean you still love me? We've broken up. There's no way, Rindou 一 or whatever his name is.

You don't trust this man one bit.

Which is why you'd dragged him along with you, plastic bag full of groceries now in his hands after he'd snatched it right out of yours. It was swinging around as you stomped, making this huge noise around the area and he wanted to laugh so bad. "Honey, please." You remember hearing him plead behind you, trying to coax you into calming down and listening to him, but he still follows behind you nonetheless 一 letting you pull him along while he watches out for cars and bikes and also apologising on your behalf to other pedestrians when you step into their space as a means to hurry home.

(He has never been one to apologise, only nodding or bowing his head a little as a gesture, but that has changed ever since he met you.)

"Don't call me that. I don't trust you at all. Who knows if you might be lying to me, you kidnapper. I'm going to report you to the police. You're going to jail." You spat.

He sighed, and then he realised the path you were both taking.

Back to your house.

You just said you didn't trust him, so why are you dragging him back to your house?

You'd thought of it too seconds into walking and you'd come to a conclusion that you don't really know why either.

Maybe it's because you really didn't trust him just like you said, so you want to drag him to your mother and make him look her in the eyes and say that he loves you 一 he still loves you 一 just to prove he isn't lying. You want to hear it from your mom 一 she has been the only person you can trust ever since leaving the hospital with an empty heart and a blank mind.

A tug at your hand pulls you out of your head.

"Honey..." He's back at it again. "You're gonna hurt your hand like this." He notes at the way you are grabbing onto his hand and pulling harshly. And you know it too 一 you are going to strain your muscle if you don't let go soon, but you just can't help it.

Just another turn and you'll arrive.

"Hushhhh. I'm going to expose you for the liar you are, Rindou-kun. Just you wait." You frown.

Perhaps you are feeling this way because you are guilty. Guilty for not remembering him 一 guilty for not being able to remember the man who has loved you with all his heart despite that it has only been 2 years.

Yet a part of you suspects there is another reason as to why you are so angry at him. There is an unknowing itch in your heart that you just can't seem to figure out what it is.

You keep calling him a liar. You keep saying you can't trust him.

Was it true?

"Mom," you swing the front door open and kick off your boots. "Mama." You yell for her. Rindou huffs behind of you and place both bags down on the floor after entering your cozy home, and he immediately spots the flowery dark blue blanket on the kotatsu your mother is sitting on.

"Yes, baby? You're back." She had been knitting while watching TV, and she looks back at you expectantly, probably expecting something surprising after hearing your rushed voice calling out for her.

And then she sees him behind of you.

"Madam."

Haitani Rindou, the man who she believed to be her daughter's endgame. Live in flesh, and he's so out of breath just as you are.

"Rindou...!" She gasps, and then she rushes up to him to pull him into a hug, her mission to finish knitting her blanket long forgotten as she busies herself with him. "Goodness, I swear! You've gotten buffer now! How have you been? And why are you both together... again?!"

You think you want to faint.

The silence is menacing 一 mocking you for being so hot-headed, mocking him for being such a coward.

Your mother had taken the liberty to finish her knitting upstairs in her room to give you both space to talk in the living room, where you're snuggled in the same blanket she had been warming up in earlier.

He stares at it for such a long time before helping you to cover your shoulder, making sure you're warm after all the activity out there in the cold earlier.

It warms him enough to know that your mother still uses the blanket he got for her despite knowing he isn't part of your family anymore.

He sits behind you in silence, legs sprawled out on the floor with his coat draped over his lap.

You turn your head to him a little. From the corner of your eyes you see him rubbing his palms together before blowing onto them. It didn't feel right to leave him out there while you're in here all warm and cozy (and a bit ready to fall asleep).

"Come here," you open up the blanket to him and look at him expectantly. He shakes his head, "it's alright. You're cold."

"You're cold." You open it up further and turn your body towards him fully.

"I'm fine, honey."

"...Just come here, would you?" You raise your voice and frown, annoyed that he isn't listening to you.

He stuns for a moment when he thinks you sound a little too familiar, before cracking a smile and crawling into the blanket with you.

"Was that so hard? You're so stubborn as always..." He listens as you mumble and nag and tuck him in before finally succumbing to the warmth (and the closeness).

The two of you sit like that for a few minutes in another wave of silence while watching your cat toss and turn on the floor in front of you.

There isn't much to describe the situation you're in with him. It may seem boring to the ordinary people who have no idea what you're both going through 一 just two exes sitting next to each other for warmth, a little too close together for exes, but still considered fine nonetheless.

But you don't consider it fine. It is not boring at all. Your heart hurts at the same time it feels fulfilled. There is so much running through your head that you don't feel like thinking anymore. You feel like you have found what you have been searching for all this while. You think it is him.

You want him.

Yet he feels so foreign.

But you never want to feel so lonely again.

"Rin." You turn to him and you look him in the eyes.

You can tell there is a lot of hurt and pain hidden inside those violets when he closes the gap between the two of you and bumps your forehead together.

And then it occurs to you that you'd called him 'Rin'. It'd just escaped your mouth with no hesitation at all. It felt so normal to call him that.

"Yes, honey?" He whispers to you.

You suppress a smile itching to form on your lips. "Have you always been this cheesy? Honey?" You let it form anyway when he smirks.

"Nah... But you always liked it when I called you that." He pulls away from you and reaches a hand up to comb through your hair 一 flattened out a few flyaways and fixed your hairline a little.

And while he is busying himself with you, the turtleneck that he is wearing has been looking a little suspicious to you, you realise. You haven't been able to tear your eyes away from the collar. There is a burning urge in you to pull it down and see what happens when you do.

So you do just that.

You reach a hand up, dip your pointer into the collar while feeling up the soft black cashmere against your skin, and you pull.

He lets you, surprisingly. Perhaps there really is nothing to be suspicious about it 一 it is true that your radar has been a little off since losing your memories. Perhaps you just felt like being a tease. Maybe you have always done this to him in the past when you were both still dating.

You haven't asked him why yet.

"Why did we ever break up?" You ask him softly.

You feel his Adam's apple bob when his neck is exposed to the air 一 to your eyes.

There is a fine-lined box, rectangular and long, tattooed onto his neck. Parts of it are filled up with a really dark black ink and it moves as he swallows.

You try rubbing it off and he coughs when you press too hard on his throat.

You remember seeing this symbol the night after you'd woken up and was still in recovery in the hospital. Shown as the headline news as the reporter speaks about recent gang activity going berserk.

"The largest crime syndicate of Japan is found to be directly involved in recent gang activities happening around Tokyo. The organisation who has been engaging in criminal acts on the low is now on the loose publicly for causing two car accidents on the Tokyo Expressway which has killed two lives and the third victim hospitalised in a comatose state, a result from two members of the syndicate fleeing from the police on said expressway after a raid in their warehouse located in Azabu. Both instigators are still on the loose for murder and drug trafficking, though authorities have managed to identify one member of the gang during the raid who is suspected to be of high authority. Testimony from eye-witnesses have stated that the man has bright pink hair with diamond-shaped scars on both sides of his mouth, often spotted with a traditional katana."

"Oh."

You slump.

"Honey."

You kept saying he was a liar.

"Listen to me."

You kept saying you can't trust him.

So it is true.

"...Too late, Haitani."

You feel a little something press against your forehead. It's hard and it hurts you when it presses even harder.

The both of you have been so engrossed in each other, with you focusing on your memories and remembering being lied to, and him finding out if there is any way, any at all, to not make you leave him again-

"Told'cha to hide her before I kill her."

-Too engrossed to notice that a man has entered your home, and is currently holding a gun to your head as he stands behind Rindou with a hand tucked into his pocket.

Bright pink hair, diamond-shaped scars on both sides of his mouth.

"Bye-bye, pretty girl." He mocks in a sickening grin.

byeeeee

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

BUSY BOY

fuckboy!leon x fem reader

warnings: suicide jokes, some slight secondhand embarrassment, unwanted advances, drinking. lots and lots of pining. everyone left fboy leon alone but I’m still here unfortunately. title taken from busy boy by chloe x halle.

Bright sunlight filtering through the blinds of someone’s unfamiliar dorm room wakes you up, red coloring your eyelids. Oh, fuck. You hit the vodka and rum and wine coolers a little too hard last night.

God, you should just bar yourself up in your room whenever you drink. You always make bad decisions when you’re blasted.

One time, you woke up in a ditch wearing someone else’s clothes.

Another time, you got arrested for biking home blasted out of your mind because that apparently counts as drunk driving.

This is the stupidest of all the decisions you made.

Leon snores in the bed next to you, one arm extended over his head and the other across his freckled chest.

He’s kinda cute when he’s not fucking with you, pink mouth parted and bangs falling into his eyes.

Like when you guys were in the same communications-slash-effective speech class and he made a persuasive presentation on why you should go out with him as part of one of the units. You don’t know how, but he actually got a good grade on it.

Maybe that criminal justice major is a perfect fit for him.

You, however, knew better, and made sure to keep away from him. Two words: community dick. Until yesterday.

Last night flashes through your mind—

Dancing. Grinding. Bright lights. Vodka. Making out so messy spit drips down your chin. Stumbling into his dorm room. Your back hits the door, then he hauls you into his arms and throws you onto the bed. More kissing. Oral. Sex three different ways before you both pass out.

—and you groan before you can stop yourself.

He shifts next to you, his snoring stopping.

You freeze and go deathly quiet, hoping against hope that he’ll stay asleep, changing a glance backwards.

Your prayers are answered because he goes right back to sawing logs, nearly crowding you out of bed because he starfishes when he sleeps. Fuckin’ figures. You know he’s not a selfish lover, but he’s gotta make up for it in other ways.

Fuck.

You gather up your clothes—all except your underwear, you couldn’t find that without turning his room upside down and waking him up.

Whatever, going commando’s better for you or some other hippie bullshit your mom texts you about.

You manage to make it out of his dorm without waking him up and hightail it to your own a couple minutes away, exchanging your clothes after a quick shower and brushing your teeth.

On your way to class—that you have with him somehow—you snag an energy drink and down half of it in the three minute walk to your class.

You look like you got dragged backward through a row of hedges, but at least you’re on time.

Leon, king of hearts, shows up five minutes late with a wave to the professor and parks his happy hungover ass on the other side of the room from you.

Good, you were hoping this would be one and done.

Class ends after an hour and you grab your things, getting up to flee before he has a chance to talk to you.

It’s too late, he’d already sauntered up to you while you were putting your notes away.

“Think you forgot something.” Leon says nonchalantly, then digs into his pocket and dangles your underwear from a finger, tongue poked between his teeth with a smile.

You might just hit him. You’re gonna knock his ass out and go to jail.

You snag the underwear from him with a scowl and he huffs a laugh, tucking his hands back into his sweatpant pockets as you shove your underwear into your own pockets.

Never mind, you might have to find a hole and crawl in it and never come out. Actually, campus has a pond that you could reasonably try to drown in like some sort of dark academia aesthetic post that’s a little too on the nose. But it seems like it’d be painful and take a long while.

You stomp out of the classroom and don’t look anyone in the eye, stopping to refill your water bottle and to find a corner to catch up on your work in, trying to put your embarrassing hookup out of your mind.

You fucking feel like everyone’s eyes are on you. Logically, you know they’re not. You know that they’re not and that people are too damn busy to stare at you.

You groan, rubbing your eyes after throwing down your pencil on your work.

Leon slides into the seat next to you. “Been avoiding me?” He asks, muscled arm sneaking over the back of your chair.

“We only had one class together.” You reply measuredly, a headache building in your temples and pressure behind your eyes.

“Two, since we count the speech class.” He replies easily, setting the back of his knee on the opposite foot.

“You’re such a fucking lawyer.” You mutter, picking up your homework pointedly. There’s no point, you’re no good at math, but hopefully, it irritates him that your attention isn’t on him.

Leon gives you a catlike smile, head tilting to the side. “That’s what I pay tuition for. I’d say it serves me well, since I got that A in the persuasive speech about why you should go out with me.”

Your eyes roll to the ceiling, an annoyed and unamused look on your face. “What the hell do you want?”

“To fuck you again.”

You actually look around when he says that, your face heating up. It’s ten in the morning, mind you. Thankfully, nobody gives a shit. His laugh catches your attention and you glare at him.

“Jesus. You’re acting like it’s such a big thing.” Leon rubs the back of his neck, then looks around disinterestedly. Since when has he had that tattoo of a lion? That’s a little on the nose.

“Shut the fuck up.”

He kisses his teeth, unable to fight a grin. “Harsh words.” He remains grinning when you smack him on the arm. “Ouch, that really hurt. Can you kiss it better?”

“Ew.” You enunciate each syllable in the word, brows raising as you lean slightly forward for emphasis.

That grin of his is implacable. Unstoppable force (your irritation) meets immovable object (his smile).

“You know you want me.”

Scratch that. Unstoppable force (your irritation) meets immovable object (his self-confidence).

When you only stare at him, Leon leans forward, pushing hair behind your ear, a far softer look in his eye than you’ve seen on him before.

Any stomach fluttering you may have felt is immediately undone by him smirking at you, that smug perma-smile on his face again. “I knew it.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.” You reply incredulously, that same feeling written all over your face. Your face heats all the way up, rivaling the sun itself, compounding your embarrassment.

“Mm-mm.” He pokes your cheek, leaning back in his seat, one corded forearm settling on the shared armchair.

He needs his ass beat, preferably by someone bigger than both of you so you can have the satisfaction of seeing him black and blue.

You get your wish a few days afterward, watching him waltz into class with a bruise on his cheek and split knuckles. This time, you walk up to him afterward. “You look like someone dragged you backward through a bush.” You say bluntly, sipping your coffee.

Leon smiles, pulling his bag over his shoulder and stepping away from the desk. “You’re a ray of sunshine this early in the morning.”

You take a step back so he can get out of the row. “Just saying. What’d you do?”

He shrugs blithely, pushing a hand into his pocket. “Barfight.”

Your eyebrow twitches up. “You lost?”

His head tilts to the side, a sly smile pulling at his mouth as he blatantly stares at your mouth. “You should see the other guy.”

Jesus Christ. Yeah, okay, now you kinda see why he pulls as many bitches as he does.

He steps a little closer. “Were you worried about me?”

Other kids filter into the classroom, so you walk away. This time, Leon follows you. “Remind me why you don’t want us to hook up again?” He says casually, grinning when you scowl at him.

You roll your eyes. “Because I don’t.”

“Disappointed?” He asks innocently, following you into the library building.

“No.” You say quickly, then scowl. “Yes.” Trick question, either way he’s going to try and argue that into his favor. Fucking lawyers.

He hisses through his teeth, that implacable grin on his face again. “Ouch. How can I make it up to you?”

“By leaving me alone.”

He pouts at you and you almost laugh. That’s probably what he wants, he wants you to laugh so he can worm his way into your good graces. He’s not a bad looking guy—and probably not so bad a guy—you just think he’s a hoe. Good for him, but he’s not for you.

He shrugs after staring at you for a bit, then walks away, whistling tunelessly.

That’s it?

That was not fucking it.

Since your little mishap with Leon, you’ve made it your mission to go for a party once every business month.

You had a good streak of not seeing him until you went to his frat. You figured, ‘Hey, what are the odds? The place will be packed. Needle in a haystack odds of seeing him.’

No such luck. He’s going shot for shot with a brother of his, face pleasantly flushed and blond hair tousled, an impish grin across his face and dimples out in full force.

You immediately turn the other way to avoid him, wandering back to your friends and dancing with them, going back in for shots whenever your drinks are too low.

What happens next is about Shakespearean levels of drama. The beginning scene is this: your friend has a guy grinding on her even though she’s told him to stop and is currently trying to get the hell away from him, you and your other mutual friend trying to bodily block him.

He calls her a stupid, ungrateful bitch, trying to step up to her as if he doesn’t have a head and at least thirty pounds on her.

She calls him a cunt and that makes everything worse.

“Bro.” Leon says, tapping his brother on the shoulder from the side. “Leave her alone, man,” He hiccups mid-sentence, turning his head away and hiccuping into the back of his hand. “she said no.”

Said brother slaps Leon’s hand away, a sneer on his face. “Fuck off, Leon.”

Leon shrugs and seems like he’s about to walk away until he bodily blocks the brother from your friend when he tries to step up again. “Dude, leave her alone. Go find some other girl.” He sounds a little like he’s sobering up.

The brother shoves Leon away, sending him back a step. Leon responds by clocking him in the jaw and knocking his ass to the floor, shaking out his hand and jumping headfirst into the scuffle less than a second later.

They break apart in about five minutes, Leon sporting a bloody lip and a butterfly bruise on his jaw and the brother with a lot more wear and tear.

Leon keeps himself between the brother and your cluster of girls until the brother spits at his feet and storms off to lick his wounds.

“Are you fucking stupid?” you ask immediately, silently amazed that he’s not more hurt. You saw the other guy he got in a bar fight with about a month ago and he looked like he lost a fight with a deer, so you should maybe not be so surprised.

He chuckles, wiping a streak of blood from his lip on the meaty side of his thumb. “I’m drunk.”

You look at him as if he grew two heads. “Yeah?” Obviously, you mean.

You never would’ve taken him for a bloodthirsty son of a bitch. He just seems so unassuming, frat boy antics aside. Maybe that’s his cover. Maybe all his criminal justice classes taught him how to be a better criminal.

The fight somehow didn’t sour the night, everyone as they were once Leon’s frat brother walks away to cool off, bass shaking the floor.

When Leon goes to the kitchen, you follow him and stop him from taking a swig of gin straight from the bottle and using it as antiseptic.

When you look around, you realize there’s no rubbing alcohol or peroxide or anything. That’s what you get for assuming the best in a group of men brought together by binge drinking and pack behavior.

Leon smirks at you, then takes a swig of straight gin, making sure to get his split lip soaked in it and grimacing when he’s done. “Damn.” He swipes his tongue over his lower lip and watches you pretend like you weren’t watching him.

“That’s the least of what you get.” You grumble, turning his face this way and that to assess the damage.

“It’s cute that you’re worried for me.” He licks a little blood off his teeth and takes another swig of gin.

“What if you get arrested? What happens then?” You prod at a bruise to see him wince. “Does it look good for a prospective law enforcer to be dinged with a drunk and disorderly?”

“A few d’n’ds aren’t enough to get me kicked from the program.” He muses, rubbing at the furrow between your brows with his thumb. “I think it’ll make me more relatable, personally.”

“So you’re going to be a defense attorney.”

That pulls a genuine laugh from him, surprisingly.

Maybe the vodka you’ve had is making you feel a little too warm. You take one step back.

“Thanks for stepping in.” You say after a stilted moment, looking around the rather unpopulated kitchen.

“That guy’s an asshole.” He sounds a little tipsy again, blame the gin and lack of rubbing alcohol. “Nobody—nobody wants him around, he’s such a little bitch.”

You watch amusedly as he gestures a little as he talks, one hand cutting through the air. “It’s like, the third time he’s done that, I’m gonna—g’na talk to the president to… about kicking his sorry ass out. You can’t do that to girls, man, it’s not cool.”

“What if he tries to jump you?” You lean a hip against the counter, folding your arms over your chest and watching his eyes wander. Damn, you were right to peg him for a spring coloring, that alcohol blush makes his eyes pop.

Leon laughs, taking another swig of gin. “He can try.”

This time, Leon wakes up before you do, morning sun in his eyes this time around. He rolls over, pressing his face against the back of your neck and snaking a corded forearm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He hopes you stay this time, you’re not so bad when you’re pretending like you’re immune to his charms.

[beware-thecrow]

I fucking hate BNHA The last panel about "granma is here" in fact further proves my point on another post of how empty and nonsensical BNHA became in the last arc because AfO wanting Tomura from the very beginning made impossible for him to be saved anyway, which means all his beef with the heroes became unjustified and his speech about violence and heroes and villains held no importance in the end. Why?

Because you cannot have a character built over the premise that society was so corrupt and selfish that put a little boy in the bad bad villain's reach for 5 arcs, to then say "oh, wait. He was fucked anyway because the bad bad guy was behind everything all along"

A bad bad guy not even all might in his prime could defeat, so it doesn't matter if people would or wouldn't help others. "It's all bad bad guy's fault anyway and he's practically immortal." Perfect, now we know granma didn't stand a chance against AfO, he planned this.

The whole idea of a society that relies on heroes too much instead of everyone doing their part from kindness falls like a house of cards if you have an evil so corrupt that none of said kindness will mean a thing. The moment Horikoshi went from "Tomura was found by AfO" to "Tomura was planned by AfO" the core theme of his series crumbled down. The league as a device lost its meaning, the characters that composed it became unjustified because whatever motivation they had was in fact a manipulation from the greater evil. And this applies to everyone.

What's the point in Toga and Twice calling out the lack of help for people with mental illness and problematic quirks if the message still is "If you do bad things out of despair no one will help you and you'll get killed." And yes, Toga died loved, Toga wanted to be loved, but she didn't wanted to die?? She was literally an abandoned child who found a family and ended up dying giving blood to the same girl she stabbed. And yeah, it's kinda poetic she died giving blood instead of taking it, but what was the point if she doesn't get to know she's loved? Further more, are we really to believe Ochako loved Toga? A girl she literally didn't know. Sorry, but once I got lost in a mall and a police officer helped me find my mom, that doesn't mean the officer loved me. And yeah, Ochako tried her best to be a good hero, but it's not about what the characters do, it's what the story tells you it happens with what they do. The story just told you the ill and abandoned die in the end before anyone helps them. And they die hunted by the police. What's the point of Touya as a whole? oh, wait. I know, it must be very awful for Endeavor to be such a bad person, his child ended up incapacitated. Very hard on Endeavor. Fuck Dabi being turned into a piece of charcoal, IT'S HARD ON HIS DAD.

What's the point in Spinner pointing out discrimination and people following him if in the end we got that he should have stayed in his lane, in his room, friendless because he only went out to be seen by someone who accepted him, just to have that person tortured in front of him before he was killed. And for what? For a teen to tell him "Yo, bro. I punched your bestie to death, make a comic about it. Btw you'll be staying in jail forever. So so sorry for you guys." Proving once again, murder is okay if you are on the right side of the story. No matter how much compassion, Tomura showed Spinner, or how much he suffered through life. Heroes had the right to kill him, and there was nothing Spinner (who legit loved his friend) could do about it because AfO had taken over. Again, another good character turned pointless, with a pointless point of view, with a pointless conclusion because he can tell the story of Tomura Shigaraki all he wants FROM JAIL, but under the public eye Tomura will go down as an insane mass murderer either way since looking at him in any other light would inevitably make a target of Izuku for killing him and that won't happen. You cannot have "the best hero ever" and "he killed this dude that was kinda right" in the same sentence. It doesn't make sense. Not to mention his case against discrimination went nowhere since everyone who followed him became a villain and the only person who actually makes a point about discrimination ends up being Deku on another, totally different chapter that had nothing to do with Spinner. And...he's a hero so he can say whatever he wants, we go back to "questioning bad, unless a hero says it" and "people are really that horrible in BNHA universe".

Tomura's case it's even more fucked because even when he said he didn't want a future, every single wish he had fell flat. His hatred for not being saved as a child proved to be out of anyone's control, his desire to destroy society didn't land because nothing really changed. There are still schools for child soldiers, and people are still not questioning the violence heroes use to keep the status quo, and certainly no one is wondering how is that a couple of heroes were able to kill a couple of villains (because so far Hawks still has a job). His friends ended up dead or locked away, and the child in him that begged to be saved ended up...being not. In the end, we got a suffering festival for Tomura, from his granma being pushed to drop her kid, his dad being tricked, his parents getting killed in front of him, Mon-chan and Hana's memory squeezed dry and young Tenko asking for help while Tomura was assaulted by his creepy guardian for 200 chapters straight just to tell us that Deku at sixteen was a great hero for putting a twenty one-year-old dissociated guy out of his misery like a euthanized dog. And for what? To finish a guy who was infatuated with his dead brother AND THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EXECUTED IN JAIL LIKE...300 CHAPTERS AGO, since the manga already made the point that villains can be executed with little repercussion, and it can be justified if said villain it's a threat. Then...why was AfO alive to begin with? Oh, I guess this is something we can trust to a 16 year old instead of... the government or whatever. And yeah, these are tragic figures, they certainly are, but you can hardly claim that they achieved anything in the end because the first premise of the league, why it was formed and why they joined was

To live as we want/are. And now they are dead, or locked away, or bedridden crispy for something that was planted by someone else from the very beginning. And what they believed didn't change anything in the end because it's not like the public saw them do something meaningful but, again, they are being told what to believe, by whom? BY THE HEROES. Are we really arguing that Iguchi's comic will change society? ARE WE FOR REAL????? Have you ever read the story of Jesus Christ? he died for our sins by Marvel. And on top of that as the last nail in the coffin to prove that NOTHING changed, Hawks really said rebranding + target audience =📈🤙🏼 StOnKS✨ I wish I was joking.

[m4y4wasnthere]

soc!reader x dallas winston hcs

cw: minor smoking mention, suggestive ones at the end

you were friends with Pony and Johnny because of Cherry

Pony and Johnny always would talk abt how tuff you were, Dallas once overheard them

He didn’t like you, he wasnt fond of the fact you were a soc, regardless of what pony and johnny said abt you. the only reason he didn’t hate you was because of how Cherry proved herself to be a good person

they had to beg darry to let you come over

you were wearing a white sweetheart top with some simple jeans. you loved pearl necklaces and was wearing a pink bow in your hair

when he first saw you, his first thought was how pretty you were. he liked the fact you were slightly dolled up just to meet your friend’s crew

“whats your name dollface?” dallas completely set aside his soc hatred for you

his reaction left pony and johnny shocked lmao “dal i thought you didnt lik-“ dallas shoved pony before he could finish his sentence.

you didnt hear alot about dallas, but you knew he was a hood who got into jail every other week.

you couldnt help but giggle to the nickname, “my name is y/n, nice to meet you, um dal is it?”

his heart fluttered at you calling him that. “uh- the name is dallas winston but yea, you can call me dal.” he tried and lean on the doorway behind him but he missed and slipped before quickly catching himself

he mentally facepalmed , he knew the gang was gonna make fun of him for this later

he loves seeing all your outfits and all the different accessories you have

you have a white/pink mustang and he engraved D.W + (ur initals) on it

you were a bit angry when you found it but it was small and hidden enough to the point where u decided u werent gonna get it fixed (you secretly thought it was cute the whole time)

hes snuck into your room plenty of times, and you love putting a bow in his hair

“cmon doll, y’know i dont wear this girl stuff” he sat on your bed, slightly sinking on the mattress.

“baby if you want to keep sneaking in here then yes, you do wear this girl stuff.” After the bow was clipped on, you kissed his cheek and he seemed to not mind anymore.

Tries his best not to get into jail as much anymore because you hate it. not only do you hate being separated from him, you want him to have an okayyy rep when he meets your parents

hes not completely sober (yet? lets hope 🤞) but he starts to limit how much he smokes since he doesn’t want to be a bad influence on you. If you guys are around each other, then he won’t smoke. Even if that means no smoking for a whole day or 2

you get super scared whenever he surprises you by walking to your house because you dont want him to get jumped by other soc’s

you were chilling on your couch when you heard someone knock on the door, you were in pretty floral silk-like pajamas and had your hair up.

you peeked before seeing your boyfriend. “Dal what’re you doing here? Did you walk here?”

“…yes, but im fine doll s-“

“Dallas Winston, I told you to not walk here by yourself, especially in broad daylight! What if you got jumped!” He walked in, and you locked the door. You crossed your arms, not stepping towards him.

he hates it when you use his full name, his head was down and he fake pouted. “ ‘m sorry doll, forgive me please. I’ll make it up to you.” He held his arms out for a hug.

As much as you wanted to stand your ground, you gave into his hug.

lets just say you guys were kissing.. alot, he promised to make it up to you 🤷‍♀️

He secretly loves saving up whatever money he has to buy you nice things, makes him feel like he actually deserves you. Probably would play it off by saying stuff like “saw this lying around and…” “i picked this up on the way…do you like it?”

His insecurity about if you actually want him and if hes good enough for you is pretty apparent. He doesn’t think you see it but you’ve caught on and make sure to tell him you love him a lot.

• suggestive ones •

Loves praising you, especially if your giving him a blowjob or right when the round finishes

“Your eyes are so pretty looking up at me doll”

“You’re taking me so well”

“You were so good doll, I love seeing you feel good because of me”

You once wore a pretty white lingerie set, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you for hours

Teases you a lot about your matching bra/panty sets

“You matched for me doll?”

“The white sets’ my favorite”

Can’t get enough of your beautiful face, he once gave you a facial and ever since then, he always hopes you allow him to do it everytime

[impactedfates]

hello! jing yuan meeting his kid he had from a previous relationship?

so jing yuan had a previous lover, he didnt visit her until he learned that she was in a bad situation/ struggling with poverty

so he goes to visit and sees a kid that looked like him that he never knew of, they were neglected by their mother while he was gone all these years

reader is the kid, thankss

★ A/N: I decided to mash these 2 into one as I feel like the reader would've gotten trust issues if their mother neglected them, not to mention what if the mother lied to their kid painting JY (their father) as a bad guy :0 Anyways, I hope the anons don't mind I merged the requests into one

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Hurt/Comfort?

★ Format: Bullet Pointed Scenarios

☆ Warnings: Readers mother is neglectful/a toxic mother (+ alcoholic)

★ Extra: Reader is young (11-12) // Jing Yuan trying his best to heal whatever his ex partner did // Also 2 posts in one day haha, had a bunch of free time during the storm

I feel like for Jing Yuan to not visit his past lover nor have her contacts, she'd have to already be a bad partner. What I mean is, Jing Yuan seems like the type to even after a break up, not want it to affect his relationship with the other person UNLESS said other person was toxic. If that makes sense???

But anyways, I don't know if that mattered. Let's assume that a friend of said ex partner went to Jing Yuan for help. Explaining her situation in hopes Jing Yuan would be willing to help.

He is, much to the delight of the friend. However he underestimated just how bad the situation is, as when he went to check. The house is in shambles.

Dirty dishes building up in the sink, trash on the ground it's hard to move around in, there's a kid and aeons it smells like such dog sh-

Wait a kid!?

Jing Yuan stares at you, you stare at him. It's just...silence. Despite everything and how long it may be. He knows that you're his kid. And after getting over the initial shock. He gently calls you over, but you refuse. Shaking your head and even creating a bigger distance.

He lets out a small sigh, unsure on what to do but just decides to look for your mother again. Telling you to please stay put, and once he does find the mother. Passed out on the couch with alcohol bottles around, he gets an even better view on what you seem to have went through.

Things have been dealt with, the mother is gone and in jail for child negligence which leaves you with your biological father who is more than happy to look after you.

At the same time though, your mother had both neglected your needs. Giving just the bare minimum to keep you alive and had fed you lies. The man in front of you may be your father but you can't help but believe the harsh words your mother told you.

But to your surprise, he's nothing like how she described. He's...gentle...patient...and never raises his voice at you. Even when you make a mistake and start tearing up ready to apologise, he's already brushing it off. Saying it's fine, not to worry.

Jing Yuan isn't bothered by your behaviour at all. He understands and knows. He takes a few days off work, to just ensure you're all better. You get new clothes, a big meal prepared for you and a new room. It's such a...new feeling.

Jing Yuan doesn't force you to do anything, doesn't force you to hug him or be near him. All he asks is that you stay safe in the house. He doesn't outright ask for you to trust him just because he's your father, he gains your trust. No matter how long it'll take for you to be comfortable around him.

Even when he needs to go back to work, he asks you if you're more comfortable to come with him to work and he can set up a place where you can relax and do whatever you wish. Or if you'd rather be at home. If you choose to just stay at home, he'll order some guards to ensure your safety and if Yanqing has gained your trust in this time. He'll ask the young boy to be your babysitter even if your age difference isn't that large.

Overall, Jing Yuan is definitely surprised to find out he has a child but that surprise turns into unhappiness when he finds out how you've been treated. He ensures your mother gets put in jail for her negligence then takes you in. He doesn't force you at all to trust him, he slowly earns it and whether or not you do end up trusting him eventually. He doesn't mind either outcome.

Because in the end, he doesn't care if you actually trust him or not. What he cares about is if you're healthy and happy. That's his main priority at this moment and time.

If/When you are finally ready, he's there with open arms. Happy to have you see him as a father figure and happy he can heal whatever damage his ex partner ever did to you.

He's happy because you're happy.

I started basing this slightly off a book I read for school as I thought it fitted haha. I'm unsure what to think of this but hopefully it's okay...

[thoughtsandmusingsandideas]

I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.

The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko

@mastadon64 here you go!

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko

Kujou Sara

Cw: Sexual innuendos

-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming

-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)

-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)

-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma

-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting

-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble

-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested

-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!

-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up

-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)

-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning

-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara

-Wasn’t she important?

-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?

-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious

-Why did people keep asking you this???

-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…

-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”

-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong

-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on

-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”

-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands

-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.

-The silence in the room is heavy

-“Get out.”

-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“

-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.

-“Out.”

-“Okay!”

-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals

-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)

-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own

-“Am I being arrested again?”

-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”

-“Yes Mommy!”

-“I Will Shoot You Again.”

Yae Miko

-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy

-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.

-Or high on adrenaline.

-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-

-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.

-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.

-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”

-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.

-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.

-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”

-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again

-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one

-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”

-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”

-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun

-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties

-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself

-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator

-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve

-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually

-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor

-And get a nose bleed

-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face

-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”

-“Genetic condition.”

-The laughter doubles

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 4

Part 3

"And you said yes?", Robin said, her voice impressively even.

"I did", Steve said, phone on speaker as he got ready for work. "I figure, if he's going to have a sugar baby, might as well be me, right? I think this is the universe giving me a break."

"Okay, yeah, sure, until he takes you out and gets you involved in like drugs or something, or takes his anger out on you when he doesn't win a Grammy or something. Or worse, you're a mistress and his actual spouse comes for revenge. OR you actually get really involved with him, help him get even more famous, have very talented children, but then his drug running gets you arrested and when you get out of jail he acts like he doesn't know you and estranges your children!"

Steve paused in putting on his shoes, grinning. "You've been watching Empire."

"Terrence did Taraji so dirty Steve."

"But not enough to learn their characters' names. I need you to catch up so we can watch season 2 together." It hurt being away from her. Before, whenever one of them started obsessing over a show, they could literally sit down and put aside one of their days off to binge a bunch of episodes.

"Sorry, let's get back to you dating a rockstar? Steve? Steve."

"We're not dating. He's just gonna text me whenever he wants to fuck. That's it. He might buy me something nice from time to time." Steve grabbed his keys and went out the door, nearly stepping on something left on the floor in front of it.

"Okay, yeah, sure, but isn't this the reason you cut your parents out? Did they want this exact life for you?", Robin asked.

"No, this is totally different. For one thing, Eddie doesn't want commitment. He doesn't want kids out of me. And even if I attend events with him, I'm just arm candy, but you know, in a good way."

"There's a bad way to be arm candy?"

Steve thought back to the functions he had to go to when still under his parents' thumb. There was definitely a bad way to hang off someone's arm like a decoration. He looked to the little box in his hand. No note, but it had clearly been placed in front of his apartment.

He opened it and found an expensive looking watching inside. The face was a cool navy blue color. He didn't need a card to know who it was from.

"Eddie's different from the guys my parents wanted", Steve said. "And when it's over, I'll at least have something to show for it."

"Just don't be stupid about this, dingus. If this goes sideways, I won't be close by to save your ass."

"Noted", Steve said as he closed the box and continued on his way to work.

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

The next time Eddie texted him, it was to go to lunch. It was a more casual setting than before, but still a pretty high end sushi restaurant.

"I must admit, I called you here under false pretenses, Steve", Eddie said as they sat in a booth.

Steve smiled at his serious tone. "I gathered, given our whole arrangement." Being taken out somewhere was typically a prelude for something intimate later, even in a normal relationship. When Eddie asked him out, Steve full expected sex. He wasn't complaining, last time had been very nice. He wondered how long until Eddie sent a simple 'u up?' booty call.

"I have to attend some fancy lunch meeting in a couple days and they're taking us to a sushi place", Eddie started to explain. "Problem is, I hate sushi."

"...Did you...are we here to train your taste buds or something?", Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. "These are some pretty important people and I can't sit there and tell them my favorite fish is whatever they use for fish sticks."

"Pretty sure it's cod."

"What? Nevermind. I just need to get one of everything and force myself to acquire a taste for it", Eddie said, eyes narrowing in focus at the menu.

Steve smiled. It was cute how serious he was being. He thought back to previous gatherings when some alpha would try and force a drink on him or when the hors d'oeuvres being served weren't to his liking.

"Want some advice?", he offered, continuing when Eddie nodded with his big Bambi eyes, "Instead of forcing yourself to like something, you should be able to say why you don't like something."

"Sounds like complaining", Eddie said, putting the menu down.

"No, you sound cultured", Steve clarified. "Watch." He cleared his throat and held up his glass of water. "Thank you for offering, but I only drink water from a natural spring. I prefer Canadian or Icelandic, but I'll take Swedish if you have it. Nothing from Switzerland though, it has this horrid mineral after taste to it." He set the glass down, adjusting under Eddie's wide eyed gaze.

"I don't know if that was bullshit or not but it sounded legit."

"It's legit what some girl said at a party once. I've never sourced where my water came from, but it works for just about anything. If you can articulate why you don't like something, it comes off better than just saying you don't like it."

"What kind of parties did you go to?", Eddie smirked.

Steve shrunk a little. "Just, you know, parties. So what's your experience with sushi?"

"Supermarket stuff", Eddie said simply.

"....You're kidding. How long have you been a rockstar?"

"I didn't realize this was an interview."

Steve tapped the table as he considered something. He looked to the other part of the restaurant. The bar where chefs were preparing the food. He almost asked Eddie a question directly, but remembered his role as a sugar baby. It wasn't his job to ask how much something would cost or even to ask Eddie to spend the money. All he needed to do was ask for what he wanted.

So he moved over to Eddie's side of the booth and leaned in close to his space. "I think you need something a little more...fresh."

"Fresh?", Eddie echoed as Steve led him to stand.

"And flavorful."

"Uh-huh."

"And satisfying", Steve whispered the last part before sitting down at the bar.

Eddie didn't know when Steve got him here but he did and he ordered something called 'omakase' and suddenly the chef's hands got really busy. He put a little filet of something on rice and then took a blow torch to it.

"I didn't know you could cook the fish..."

It was placed in front of him, but Eddie was still skeptical, which Steve noticed.

"'Omakase' means you're trusting the chef to pick out the best for you", he said. Then Steve took his chopsticks and picked up his piece. He ate it in one bite and Eddie subconsciously swallowed as he watched it pass his beautiful lips and then slide down that gorgeous throat. He wasn't even eating sexily, that was just how far gone he was.

Then Steve picked up Eddie's piece and held it to his lips. Eddie didn't even hesitate to open up and let it in. Tender rice, delicate fish, a total opposite to the sushi he'd experienced before. And it didn't stop there. The chef served cut after cut and each time, Steve asked him what he liked or didn't like.

Eddie was no slouch when it came to language. So he was able to come up with that on his own. He had just never considered respectfully refusing food and to do so with a haughty air deserving of a celebrity.

"Mmm, great choice on the shrimp", Eddie praised the chef. "Texture is superb. Sweet on the tongue too. Nice one, Tatsuro-san."

"Better than the crab?", Steve asked.

"I'm sorry, but nothin' beats an old fashioned crab boil for me. It's the only way I can eat crab."

"You've got opinions and you know how to voice them. I never imagined that be an issue for you, but I think you're ready now."

"Oh I've got opinions out the wazoo. I was just taught to never complain about food."

"Good boy", Tatsuro commented as he prepared something else.

"Very good", Steve agreed as an oyster on a half shell was put in front of him and Eddie.

Tatsuro winked at Eddie and he tried not to think about it as they finished up the course. He was absolutely not thinking about how oysters were an aphrodisiac, or how he'd had a great time, or how this felt like a date and not an outing with a hot piece. He wasn't doing a good job of being a sugar daddy, was he?

Time to fix that up right away. He paid for the meal, leaving a generous tip and led Steve out the restaurant, arm around his waist.

"You were extremely helpful. I can honestly say I like sushi now", he beamed. "And I think excellent service deserves a reward."

"You gonna give me a tip too?", Steve teased. And there was certainly a tip Eddie wanted to give him. Really the whole thing, but he had another idea in mind. And thankfully the appropriate place wasn't too far from here.

"You're buying me a suit?", Steve realized as they walked into a tailor's.

"I've got an eye for these kind of things. And you need something to match your new watch", Eddie said. He had a feeling Steve knew what to do, so he let him free.

Steve gave him a look and Eddie made a 'go on' motion. So Steve went, picking out different pieces for himself to assemble a new suit. There was a man awaiting any need of assistance and did so once Steve came out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirrors.

Eddie was sitting before him, watching as Steve appraised his reflection and the tailor took some of his measurements. The suit was in silver, with a black shirt underneath. He finished of the look with a dark blue handkerchief in the chest pocket. It already looked great. Eddie knew he'd be breathtaking once it was bespoke. He ached to put his hands on him but public decency kept him from doing so.

"You look good enough to show off", Eddie praised.

"You look like you have somewhere in mind", Steve said, looking at the other man through the mirror.

"There's a shindig goin' down that I wouldn't mind having a date to."

Eddie put in the order for the suit to be done the day before the event. "Let's head back to my place."

This time, as they traveled, Steve was the one who couldn't keep his hands to himself. His hand stroked Eddie's thigh, getting close to where he wanted but never actually touching.

"What're you thinking about?", he asked when he noticed how hard Eddie was holding the wheel.

"Oysters. And you." And how he really should get a personal driver on hand.

Steve laughed softly and let a finger do circles on his crotch. "I think our chef was trying to be subtle. But I know what oysters are supposed to do."

"Oh?"

"And I don't need any culinary suggestion to get me in the mood." Honestly, he kind of felt like blowing Eddie now and probably would have chanced it if it wasn't still light out. "Can you be a good boy like he said?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Because we still have to take the elevator."

They didn't get as far as they did the first time they took this elevator but Eddie did attach himself to Steve's back and kissed at his neck. Once again, Steve could see their reflection in the wall. Eddie's eyes roamed his torso, wanting to go further but holding back. He only got bold enough to pinch a nipple through his shirt when the doors opened to their floor.

Steve only moved because of Eddie's prompting, finding it very easy to melt in his hold. They got about two steps out of the elevator before Eddie pushed him against the wall, kissing his lips and running his hands up under his shirt.

"Saw you lookin' at yourself in the elevator. Pretty baby likes how he looks?"

Steve's only response was to moan against his lips and rub against his leg. The closest camera was all the way at the end of the hall, though they'd be screwed if anyone opened up their door. He knew he looked good and liked looking good. And he'd seen the way Eddie's eyes were glued to him at the tailor's. That was a good feeling too.

Eddie took out his key card to open up his door and pulled Steve inside. They migrated to the couch, just needing to get horizontal. Steve lied underneath, Eddie's leg in between his again and providing friction as he rutted up against it. It was so hot, Eddie wanted to watch him get off just like this. If he got his pants off he could watch that sweet pussy drag-

Steve nearly jolted off the couch when a loud guitar riff sounded from Eddie's back pocket.

"Shit", Eddie hissed when he realized who was calling. He could ignore it, but he knew they'd just keep it up until they got to his door.

"You need to take that?", Steve asked, voice a little breathless.

"Just-just gimme a moment, it'll be quick." Eddie answered and Steve could be patient. He just couldn't be good and patient. He rubbed at Eddie's arm before taking his hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and swirled his tongue around his index finger, keeping his gaze down at first and then looking up at Eddie.

The man above him was speechless, up until whoever he was talking to shouted at him from the other end and got his attention again. Well, half of it anyway. The other half was on Steve sucking down two of his fingers now. Eddie groaned both in frustration and the beautiful man under him. Steve was only half following the conversation but it sounded like their time together might be cut short.

Eddie hung up with a sigh. "Baby...baby I gotta go."

"Right now?", Steve asked.

"Yeah but...but if you could, I mean you can stay here until I get done. It'll be quick, just a couple of hours tops. And I can take you out to dinner too."

"You want me to stay?"

Eddie's hair shook as he nodded. He stood up, glad he had a bit of time to calm his boner down. Then he saw Steve lying there on the couch, lips kissed wet and certain his lips farther down were just as glistening. He leaned over to cup him between the legs, feeling the warmth through his clothes.

"Don't forget who this belongs to", he growled when Steve whimpered.

"Okay." And because this man was sent from above, he whispered, "Daddy."

Eddie couldn't hold back then, kissing him hard, tongue marking his insides while rubbing Steve through his pants. He unzipped them, thinking he could just get him off quick when the ringtone sounded again. Pulling back was the hardest thing to do.

"Keep it nice and warm for me", Eddie said before fully removing himself.

"Hurry back."

And then Steve was alone. In a rockstar's hotel room. He thought about what a sugar baby might do when their daddy went off for what must be a very important but impromptu meeting, especially when it stopped such a heated moment. It became very obvious what he needed to do and so he headed straight for the bedroom.

Part 5

I need you to know that when I first envisioned this fic it was literally just supposed to be smut with connecting scenes but it somehow turned to "don't catch feelings" and "oops we're accidentally dating" the fic so here we are.

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Shouldn't Have Said It

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: relationship angst, heartbreak, getting roofied at a bar by someone you trust

Summary: It's been a month since you and Bucky broke up, and it's been the hardest month of your life. In that time, you realize you never wanted to be apart from Bucky. You put your trust in the wrong person, and your entire life hangs in the balance.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "told you so" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn't know how hard this was going to be for you. You didn’t leave because you fell out of love with Bucky. You left because it breaks your heart when Bucky takes away life like he’s God or something. Could you get over it? Maybe. You shouldn’t have said what you said to him. Maybe there was room for improvement but you were so stricken with grief that you said exactly what you were feeling at that moment.

It’s been nearly a month since you and Bucky broke things off so why doesn’t it feel over with? You want nothing more than to go running back to him but it’s like you’re stuck between true love and your morals. Killing is wrong. Taking a human life is a crime. Bucky should be in jail for what he’s done. He’s the bad guy, so why do you dream of him every night? Your parents raised you to be good and to help where you can. They taught you to love and care for others. If they knew what you’ve been doing, they’d shun you for sure.

You’re scared your innocence will be stripped down to nothing if you continue to stay with Bucky. You have given him everything you possibly could. Is there anything left?

Gio noticed a change in not only your appearance but the fact that you don’t smile anymore. You’re not dressing in your usual style--flowing dresses, shorts, tanks, and all of them in bright colors. Now, you’re dressed in dark colors, jeans, and band t-shirts with your hair in a bun most days. Over the past moonth, you might have said maybe ten words to him and he’s been a gentleman and let you have the space you’re silently asking for.

Even when you and Bucky are broken up, he still finds ways to take care of you. He sent you a new verison of the car you had before so you’re not walking or taking public transportation, but you refuse to use it. That’s a pity car and you’re not taking any charity even though it’s nice and you really want to use it. It’s not going to help much but you got a job at the local hardware store where you can save up for a car on your own.

If you truly want to be done with Bucky, you can’t use anything he gives you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. It’s so damn hard moving on because you’re still so damn in love with him.

When Gio sees you sitting alone at lunch, he decides it’s time to bring up whatever’s got you in a slum. He walks across the huge cafeteria and sits next to you. You barely look at him but he does hear you mutter his name.

“Going through a break up is never easy.”

You look up at hi with slightly red and puffy eyes.

“How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to fit the puzzle together. Bucky isn’t around anymore.” You sigh and look back down at your food. “I didn’t want tot say anything to give you space but it’s been a month. Come out drinking with me and some friends.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s fifty cent wings at the bar on campus. They got an overshipment of chicken wings and need them to go out before they go bad. Come on, it’s one night.”

Maybe this will be good for you. You’ve been sitting in your apartment all alone looking at pictures of you and Bucky. You’re making yourself sad so going out might be the way to move on.

“Okay, just one night.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.”

“Cool,” he smiles. “You’re not going to regret it.” His energy makes you smile even if it’s small. “I made you smile, right? That’s progress.”

Gio gets up and leaves you alone. Gio would be so easy to be with but he’s not Bucky. He doesn’t give you the sense of danger and adventure you had when you were with Bucky. You watch him walk away, and as much as you try not to, you see Bucky walking away from you. Yeah, you might really need this night out or maybe you’re forcing yourself to get over Bucky when you know you don’t want to.

Oh, I don’t know what to do or think.

When you get home, you immediately start getting ready even though you have three hours to spare because if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll start to think about Bucky and cancel on Gio. You don’t dress fancy since you’re going to go to a campus bar but you at least try to put something nice on. Gio comes when he sayid he would, and you meet him in the parking lot. You’re not an idiot. Being with Bucky made you cautious with most things in your life. Gio is an amazing man but Bucky made you weary of anyone in your life.

“Wow,” Gio smiles.

“What?”

“You look beautiful.”

“It’s just jeans and a t-shirt,” you say shyly.

“Even better.”

It only takes ten minutes to get to the bar which is already lively with people. Gio meets up with his friends who welcome you in with open arms. There are already three boxes of wings on the table that are all half devoured with more on the way. Gio orders two beers and sits with you at the table when he grabs them. Football games are playing on all of the TV screens, people are playing darts and pool in teams, and everyone is having such a good time.

Why aren't you?

“So? How do you feel?” Gio asks and nudges your shoulder.

“This isn’t so bad, I guess,” you chuckle.

“Told you so. I’m glad I could convince you to come out.”

“Well, I figure I had my month to wallow. It’s time to move on.”

Are you saying that to Gio or yourself? Are you really ready to move on? Do you even want to? I don’t know what to think. My head is all jumbled and confused. You look at Gio with a small smile wishing you were here with Bucky instead. Actually, you wish you were back in Italy with Bucky. You had to put your entire life on hold when you were there, and you’d give anything to feel that way again.

“Your skills are getting better in class. No one can sew like you.”

“Thank you. My mother was a seamstress. She’s to thank for my love of designing.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s an architect. I get designing from him as well. What about your parents?”

Gio clears his throat and looks down at his beer.

“My mom died when I was a baby. I don’t remember much about her except the stories I’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry. What about your dad?” you ask and sip your beer. Gio’s face immediately hardens into something that makes you uneasy. He spares you a glance and forces himself to relax but the anger is still there. “Are you okay?”

“My dad passed away a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he shrugs. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” You nod in understanding when his eyes meet yours. There’s a dark anger in his eyes that he can’t hide. He sees how taken aback you are so he grabs your half-drank beer and his almost finished one. “Let me get you another drink.”

He’s gone before you can say anything. You sigh and look around the crowded bar in thought.

“You’re out on a date with that guy?” You snap your head up when you hear his voice. “Come home. I miss you.”

Bucky is sitting right next to you as if he’s really there. You look around in panic but when you look back at Bucky, he’s gone. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You’re an idiot if you thought you were ready to move on. Who are you kidding right now? You don’t want to move on. No, you don’t. You miss Bucky. You miss his touch after a long day and the way his rough hands run over your smooth skin. You miss his lips when they kiss all over your body. You miss his smile when you make him work for your attention. You miss his blue eyes and the way they darken when you put on that red little number he loves so much.

So what if he kills people, right? He’d kill for you. That shows how much he loves you, right? He’d do anything to protect you. He treats you like a Queen, and you’re an idiot to let him go. If only your parents could see you now.

Gio comes back with a different drink in his hands. Right. Gio. You want to go home. Will Bucky take you back after what you said to him? Can he find it in himself to love you again?

“Hey, listen, you’re great and super nice but I don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s not you. I’m just not ready.”

“No worries,” he smiles. He sets a red-colored drink on the table in front of you. “I got you your favorite drink. Let me just say bye to my friends and I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”

Gio leaves your side to do what he said he was going to do. You take the glass and down the alcohol easily. Gio comes back shortly and you get out of the booth to leave. However, when you take the first step, your legs immediately feel like jelly. Gio catches you before you go crashing to the ground, and you look away in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry. This usually doesn’t happen. I’m not a lightweight.”

You and Bucky once had a drinking contest to see who could drink the most and you won. Despite how hard and dangerous he can be, he can’t handle his alcohol well.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car.”

Gio helps you to his car and inside the passenger side. Your headache is worse, your body feels completely numb, and your vision is starting to blur. What the hell happened? Gio gets behind the wheel and pulls away from the bar.

“I don’t feel so good,” you slur.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. Just go to sleep.”

He makes a right onto the main road and drives down the dark and desolate road. The last thing on your mind before you succumb to the darkness is that in order to get to your apartment, he had to make a left, not a right.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[yinwaryuri]

Jack and Joker: The Bank Scene

Happy Monday my friends, we finally are getting our gay heist show! YinWar truly have outdone themselves with the level of quality they've put into it and I couldn't be more excited or more grateful.

I wanted to break down the scene where Joke robs the bank because, given my experience in banking, it's was scripted very purposefully in favor of suspending our belief. Admittedly, my experience is in the US, and not all financial institutions operate the same, but for safety and security measures they're pretty standard across the board.

I was really appreciative of the disclaimer given ahead of time. It speaks to the research that was done for the sake of how much they could accurately portray the events, and when that seemed impossible and they couldn't let go of the scene, they said fuck it - gay story over realism it is. This break down is certainly not to dig at the writing; it's more to buff my knowledge than anything.

We love you YinWar, thanks for having respect for bank employees. Now let's get to the employees I don't respect, and the non-employee that I do.

For the most part, security officers don't need to do more than greet customers, and if there is any suspicion he shouldn't immediately interrogate someone. He's there for when things get escalated, or if there are any faces he should be looking out for (anyone banned from a branch for any reason), then he can confront them. If Joke had made an attempt at another location and that one tipped off others, then he would have a reason to suspect him.

Joke's mistake here: Being seen. He is so identifiable throughout. The show didn't bother checking any CCTVs, but he makes no attempt to hide from them. Instant jail. Sorry my guy. He also chooses a very unusual method and time of day to strike.

Since the officer did confront him, Joke gives an excuse.

This was a good call. If someone from another location or office, or a third party contracted service is coming, the employees would be notified beforehand of whom they should be and during which times. And even if the person is easily recognizable physically, they will have company identification on them, and if the security measures are extra strict, a form of government ID would also need to be shown.

LOUD WRONG ANSWER BUZZER

So what Joke is going to look for is someone who appears less competent. He looks at the older woman who likely has years under her belt and knows he has no chances there. But the girl to her left....

TARGET ACQUIRED

And she's already in trouble.

Oh hon.

That's never a situation I'd want to be in. Calling customers to inform them that there's been a mistake made on their account is never fun and it often is hard to reach them. There are ways of simply correcting the error and informing the person after it's been done just so they know what to expect when they look at the activity on their statement. Whatever the case, she's new, inexperienced, and having a bad day.

The balls he has to say this. Bestie. Have you ever touched banking software.

He's just getting her out of the way. If she had received any proper training and meant to apply it at all, this would've been a red flag. She is trusting the judgement of the security officer. Joke hasn't introduced himself by name and if he meant to help fix the mistake he wouldn't make her leave. It would be her responsibility and a good training opportunity. Instead, this happens....

She's risking so many things! Security within the immediate premises, security of the bank's information, confidentiality of the customers' information (which is literally their government ID, home address, other contact info, ALL of their accounts and activity). Absolutely a bad move.

GIRRRLLLL. That is on you. I saw her hesitate, but in the end just knew it was bad. At least where I've been, that possibly means fines and/or jail time for her as well, depending on the severity (most likely fines though). This poor girl is gonna have the worst confidence about her ability on the job after learning she helped a guy embezzle money. Where's her story?

Joke sends the security guard away, gets behind the desk with Carbon's ID and is likely planning to simply empty his account and leave. Then who should show up but Jack! (Next time please direct him to wait in a queue, your "manager" is supposedly still fixing your little check blunder, remember?)

And even Joke is nervous for a moment because he definitely didn't want to get the cute bartender involved.

Nevertheless, he humors Jack and listens to the bittersweet story of his childhood and his dream of opening a school. I love Jack, I really hope that he is able to open that school someday too.

So this part of the loan process is called the interview. It's where the employee will get an idea of the customer's needs and see if the bank's service is what they're looking for or if there is any particular offers they can make at this time. It's an important process when dealing in person because it will hopefully help the customer know which steps they can take depending upon approval. It's also where documentation is asked to verify what can be approved.

For the most part, Joke's charisma would be fantastic for a banking career because he seems natural at facilitating a conversation that requires someone to open up about their financial needs. He loses marks for not checking actual information, not filing any copies of the information he has been given, not explaining any details about paying the loan down or how having an account works, not starting the account opening process, and the numbers they talk about are vague so we don't even know how much money is in question here (which is probably a writing choice and I'm fine with it).

Instead Joke pulls a Picard and decides to make it so. And flirts at the same time. There's no signage around the branch to speak of this program and he doesn't go into any details, he simply grabs the stamp and seals their fates together.

I do think it's a sweet little change of mind he has. He was simply going to inconvenience Carbon, but what better way to do it (in his mind) than to give the money to the guy who got snubbed because of him?

The office being truly empty does crack me up. Who is supposed to be there and why are they gone? Also, for a bank, that vault is incredibly small. That is a home safe, that is not for securing the assets of the public. Also, most places have updated their protocol to use two people when opening the vault because having two people present also ensures less opportunity for employee theft.

His ass is not wearing gloves!

And, in a final un-bankerly move, he does not count out even the bundles.

FLIRT

I also love that he goes by Joker, but is constantly pulling a Batman exit on Jack.

I feel bad for knowing that I would have absolutely apprehended this man by asking the simplest questions. But I no longer work in that capacity and couldn't give a fuck! Let him do what he wants!

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Kai Anderson w/ a psychologist reader—why is a blue haired felon psychoanalyzing you?

ꨄ︎ You were first assigned to his case after he got into his third fistfight with inmates. They put him in solitary confinement and refused to let him out until he got a psych eval. He needed one anyway. You checked through his records, and half of it was missing. The guy was in for something about running a cult?

Whoever this dude was, he wasn't someone to be triffled with. Triffle you did. Soon enough, you were his favorite out of all the people in this joint. He'd threaten people just to get a chance at seeing you.

ꨄ︎ He shows classic signs of narcissistic personality disorder, CPTSD from whatever was erased from his file, and undiagnosed ADHD. He stated that he took Adderall, which was clearly illegal because he didn't have a prescription, and he sure as hell wasn't just picking it up from the local grocery store. You tried to get more from him, and he'd just tease you. He gives you crumbs and then expects you to follow the trail. 

You know it ends up somewhere in his pants with you on your knees.

ꨄ︎ He pushes your buttons whenever you have a session with him. He gives you a teasing look and spews some manipulative bullshit. He'll give you impromptu strip teases just to try and catch you off guard. He does everything and anything to get a reaction out of you. It's all about getting you to join his cult in the end. He could use a mind like yours. It'll be fun degrading you into his dumb little slut that he can use however he pleases.

ꨄ︎ Don't expect to think your time with him ends when you leave the jail. He'll find ways to get some sort of electronic and contact you. They're always short blurbs about all the bad things he wants to do to people and how you're the only one who can help him. He plays all the right chords and yet you still produce no sound.

You want to get a restraining order on him, but you can't prove that the messages are from him. You only know because he asks if you got his little messages. You can't report that as evidence because of doctor-patient confidentiality.

So you're just stuck receiving message after message about how he wants to gut everyone in the prison and take you in the showers while he's washing the blood off. That one was a long night. You must have received over fifty texts.

ꨄ︎ Some of the sessions are just him psychoanalyzing you. He does his best to pick you apart and find your weak spot. The least bit of emotion, and he's cataloging that away in his mind for future use. He tells you intimate details about your life. They're things he shouldn't know. You begin to fear for your safety.

Who is this psycho, really?

ꨄ︎ You quit the job and begin working somewhere else. You didn't hear the news that he got out. You cut all contacts from the jail, and they couldn't find a way to reach you in time. So like a little lamb getting cornered by the lion, you wake up with him sitting above you. His hand around your throat, the other holding a gun to your head.

"I'm only going to ask this one more time. Are you going to join FIT and be an obedient little recruit, or slowly die at my hands?"

(dedicated to— @fear-is-truth)

🃜 𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 🃖

⛧ taglist: @bleper @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @girlyfart @lacucarachapisser @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @nahoyasboyfriend @coentinim @etheral-moon @taintandviolent ⛧

🃜 𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 🃖

[jessicas-pi]

Bo and the Blueberry AU incorrect quotes

Bo-Katan: How’s school going? Ezra: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there. Bo-Katan: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes. Ezra: …you shouldn’t be condoning this.

---

Ezra: If history repeats, I'm so getting a Mythosaur.

---

Sabine: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Ezra: When we were kids, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Sabine: They're not. Ezra: Haha, very funny. Sabine: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Ezra: No… what happened? Sabine: …Why would you fall for this again-

---

Din (after Ezra becomes Mand'alor): I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

---

Sabine: You know what’s funny about Ezra? He’s my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt him is someone I’d murder, probably.

---

Bo-Katan: We'll talk about this later. Ezra: Ok, I won’t be listening.

---

Tristan: I found an old note that said Note to self: Get revenge on Ezra. Tristan: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Tristan: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Ezra: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Tristan: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Ezra: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Tristan: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

---

Bo-Katan: Come on, Ursa. Nobody actually believes that Din is in love with me. Ursa, to the other Mandalorians: Raise your hand if you think that Din is helplessly in love with Bo-Katan. *Everyone raises their hand* Bo-Katan: Din, put your hand down.

---

Korkie, looking at his friends: I need to become a therapist faster.

---

Ezra: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Tristan: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

---

Ezra, to Sabine: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Sabine: … Ezra: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

---

Ezra: Your smile? It makes my day. Sabine: Your happiness? I live for that. Korkie: A room? Get one. Tristan: Hotel? Trivago.

---

Ezra, texting Bo-Katan: *sends a voice message* Bo-Katan, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent? Ezra: No, don’t worry, just listen later. *later* Bo-Katan: *presses play* Ezra's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

---

Sabine: Relationships should be 50/50. Ezra tries to be Mand'alor while I sit on the armrest of his throne looking intimidating.

---

Ezra: I need life advice. Korkie, sipping Space Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

---

Sabine: Okay, I’m going to make sure the flower decorations have arrived. Ezra: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Sabine: … Sabine: You mean ring bearER, right? Ezra: … Sabine: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

---

Bo-Katan: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Ezra: Mine just says "Ezra no." Bo-Katan: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

---

Tristan: Why is Ezra making me do the dishes again? You haven’t washed them in a week, Sabine! Sabine: It’s because I’m Ezra’s favorite. Tristan: I hate you.

---

Korkie: I have a bad feeling about this, guys. Sabine: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Ezra: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Korkie, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

[dreamwatch]

There Goes My Hero

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #12 - Prompt: Ow! | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: language, canon typical violence, fat shaming, mention of blood, injuries, mention of past bullying | POV: Matt | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, violence, fighting,

This was the very first thing I wrote for CCFest back in April!

****

Matt’s not a fighter. He’s not brave. 

He spent years skulking around the halls of Hawkins High, desperately trying to make himself smaller, to make himself invisible. Until Eddie came along and told them it was all bullshit anyway. Until Eddie came along, bigger and bolder than everyone else, a huge willow tree for them all to take shelter under.

Fighting to him, to all of them he thinks, is learning to take a slap and then walking it off. Saying ’it’s fine, it doesn’t even hurt’ as you wipe the blood from under your nose. Not biting back when they call you a fat fuck.

Fighting to him is just taking it.

And that’s mortifying, honestly, fucking pathetic, but he just wanted to keep his head down, play his music and DnD, and be left alone.

So he doesn’t know where it came from, so suddenly, although maybe that’s a lie. Like saying it doesn’t hurt when your face stings, and you’re standing in the hallway, humiliated. If he digs deep, really thinks hard about it, then it’s probably years of pent-up anger. Of having his shit stolen from his locker, of seeing his friends getting picked on and not having the guts to do a fucking thing about it other than watch and hope you’re not next. So yeah, blind, impotent rage, right? The kind that makes good people go off in the world and do bad things. 

This was his bad thing.

He hopes the other guy is okay, mostly because he doesn’t want to go to jail. He hasn’t seen Eddie since they got brought in to the ER, and he really hopes he’s okay. His face looked a mess. 

This was the eighth show on their little midwestern tour. They put it together themselves, all piled into the van, and Jeff’s station wagon (they’d laughed when he bought it, but it was a genius idea in retrospect), and just took off for a few shows over the summer. Nothing big. No real agenda other than to play and get the fuck out of Hawkins.

It would be understating it to say that Hawkins had done a number on Eddie. They still have no idea what happened. Eddie told them he got bit by dogs which just made them angry, honestly, because the stench coming off that bullshit was stifling. What they do know for sure is that he nearly died. That whatever happened left him hollowed out, physically and mentally. That it broke something in their friend, which broke something in them.

Watching Eddie recover was hard. They were all sure the band was over but in some fucked up, twisted, alternate-dimension weirdness, Steve Harrington got Eddie to play again. 

Steve. 

Harrington. 

What the fuck?

And fuck knows what he did, or said, or bribed Eddie with, but it worked. He picked up the guitar again, trading lead for rhythm with Jeff while he built up his strength and coordination, but for all that he was frustrated the light came back on. Eddie was back.

Matt wasn’t letting anyone take him away again.

It only took one show at The Hideout to know they were never going to play there again. Eddie was a curiosity now, something to be gawped at. Someone thought it would be hilarious to throw a cheerleader’s pom pom onto the stage, and it sent Eddie into a spiral. He holed up in the bathroom and wouldn’t let anyone in until Steve showed up and alikazam! the door opens. They were in there for an hour. Eddie was red-eyed and a little dazed afterwards and that was the last night they ever played in Hawkins. 

They’re in Des Moines when it happens. The show was great, objectively fucking awesome. There must have been a couple of hundred people in there, and the manager wanted them back, people asked for tapes. It couldn’t have gone any better.

So of course it went to shit.

They’d barely opened the back of the van to load up before some six-foot giant grabbed Eddie by the collar and punched him so hard in the face that blood sprayed from his nose, landing on Gareth beside him. There was a moment of complete silence, where it felt like the world just stopped or his vision had just whited out. And then—

He’s never punched anyone before, is the thing. He didn’t know there were ways you’re supposed to hold your hand, your thumb, and even if he did he’s not sure he would have done it anyway. What he does know, now at least, is that he has a mean fucking right hook. Jeff was trying to push the giant off Eddie, and Gareth was standing there with Eddie’s blood on the side of his face, shocked to shit to be fair to him, so the asshole didn’t get a second to register Matt approaching, hitting him square in the jaw and onto his ass.

And he doesn’t know what happened after that really, just that he was kicking him, boot slamming into the soft side of the man on the floor, over and over until it was Eddie, face like an abattoir floor, that pulled him off.

He mulls it over while he waits for an X-Ray. There’s definitely something broken, he can feel the grinding when he moves his hand and it hurts like a motherfucker. They still had a few shows to go. He ruined the tour with one punch. 

Jeff opens the curtain and sits next to him on the bed.

“How’s the hand?”

“Fucked. How’s Eddie’s nose?”

“Fucked.”

They sit in silence, shoulder-to-shoulder, self-declared best friends forever. 

“I can’t believe someone recognised him out here,” Jeff mutters, maybe to himself, Matt can’t be sure.

They don’t say it, but they’re both thinking it; Hawkins is going to follow Eddie everwhere. Follow them everywhere. And they can’t keep fighting their way out of things every time it catches up with them.