#petty hills night

[impishtubist]

we talked about this but my petty hill to die on is that BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG ARE COED and making fleur the only female champion and coming in last place actually becomes extremely fucking sexist when you make her school all-girls

Okay, well, now I am declaring today "petty hill to die on day" and I want you all to come into my inbox with your petty hills, regardless of fandom. Happy leap day, all!

YES TO ALL OF THIS, ZO. You are 100% correct and it's absolutely sexist in light of Fleur coming in last.

[topguncortez]

Set Up For Failure - J. Halstead

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: "I Warned You"

synopsis: Life with Jay had never been easy, and you knew that being with a police officer wasn't going to be easy. But when a newly released criminal starts repeating the same patterns that got him put behind bars, Jay starts to worry about your safety.

warnings: cursing, robbery gone wrong, attempted murder, mentions of large amounts of blood, crime scenes, pregnancy, kidnapping, mentions of a non-consensual c-section.

word count: 2.9k

Being married to a cop wasn’t easy. Being married to a detective that belonged to Hank Voight’s Intelligence department wasn’t easy either. When you first met Jay, he did everything he possibly could to shield you from the life that he lived. In fact, you didn’t even know his name was Jay until about six months into your relationship. It was by accident that you had figured out his name, who he was and what he did for work. 

At first, you were pissed, you didn’t talk to him for about two months, completely cutting him off. How could you be with someone who had lied to you so easily? Who didn’t think you were worthy or trustful enough to tell you what he did every single day? Jay had groveled, showing up at your apartment every day with a bouquet of flowers, begging for you to talk to him. You had got so annoyed that you left a note on the door telling him to take the flowers and donate them to the nursing home. But after the third month of him waiting outside your door, you finally decided to hear him out. 

“I have an explanation,” He started. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Everyone who has been close to me ends up getting hurt or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I have been living in this darkness for so long, and you come and. . . you brought the light back,” Jay shook his head, “I was terrified of what would happen if the light went away.” 

“No more lying,” You said, pointing at him. 

“None, I swear,” Jay said, putting his hands, “Does this mean I am forgiven?” 

“This means you are on probation.” 

Four years later, you were now Mrs. Halstead, and in your final month of pregnancy. Life with Jay had been everything you dreamed of and more. He was attentive and caring, always calling you on his way home from the station, or texting you if it was going to be a late night. He did everything he possibly could to provide for you, buying a small fixer upper house near Hank’s place. Will had accepted you as his sister-in-law almost instantly, loving to have someone on his side during petty arguments with Jay. The whole squad had basically adopted you as one of their own, even though you didn’t have a single thing to do with the police force. You had been a teacher until you got pregnant, and decided to spend the first year of your baby’s life at home. 

"There's been a series of break-ins in the Sunset Hills neighborhood, which has residents on alert. Channel 10 news is-"

The TV had clicked off from behind you, causing you to gasp and look over your shoulder at your husband. You smiled sheepishly before turning back to the pile of baby clothes that you were folding. 

“You’re home early,” You said. 

“Mhm,” Jay answered, crossing his arms over his chest, “What are you doing?” 

“Oh, you know,” You lifted up a pile of folded onesies, “Kid has more clothes than me.” Jay’s eyebrow raised, “And I was just catching up on the local happenings. . . have I told you how much I love you?”

Jay huffed, shaking his head, “I told you to quit reading into that. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

You sighed looking down at the pile of clothes, you had been caught yet again. Ever since the first break-in in the neighborhood, you had been on high alert, even though both Jay and Hank assured you that it was nothing to worry about, but you still felt uneasy every time you were in the house alone, which happened to be a lot. Hank told you that the thieves weren’t hurting anyone or going to houses where they knew people were home. The only thing they were guilty of was breaking in and stealing thousands worth in property. 

“I have the right to know what’s going on,” You crossed your arms over your chest, “I need to know what is going on in case-“ 

“Nothing is going to happen,” Jay walked over towards where you sat on the couch and kneeled down in front of you, “Nothing is going to happen to you. We have the best security system money can buy. We are blocks away from the station, uniforms are doing patrols up and down this street, hell, Hank lives right next door,” You chuckled at that. Jay’s large warm hands landed on your belly, gently rubbing over the stretched skin, “You are safe, I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” He placed a kiss on your forehead, “To both of you.” He then placed a kiss on your belly, earning him a kick in response, “Chill out in there, rambo.” 

“She gets excited when you’re around,” You smiled, “She can hear you.” 

Watching Jay become a father has been your favorite thing in life. From the moment you stood in the door of your shared bedroom, tears running down your face as you told him, you knew he was going to be the best dad ever. The next day he went out and bought as many books as he could on parenting. You had to basically force him to keep his mouth shut from telling the squad, as he wanted to shout from the rooftops he was going to be a dad. Now it was count down mode until his little girl could be in his arms. 

— — — 

“It’s going to be a late night,” Jay huffed out from the other end. You could hear the faint sound of a radio, and knew he was probably sitting in his patrol truck, Hailey next to him, waiting for some movement or clue. 

“This past week have all been late nights,” You sighed, letting the warmth of your bath water seep into your bones. In the past week, it seemed as though your baby was getting ready to make their move to come into this world. Your last appointment your doctor pointed out that your belly had started to drop a bit, which sent Jay into a full on panic. Your back had been killing you, and the only place that seemed to help ease the pain, was the clawfoot bathtub you made Jay put in the bathroom. 

“I know, baby,” Jay sighed. He hated the late nights just as much as you did, especially being so close to your due date. He knew that Natalie and Will were right down the street, and would be over in a flash if you ever needed anything, but Jay hated the fact that he couldn’t be right there. His paternity leave wasn’t set to start until after the baby was born. 

“Just tell me, you’re going to catch whatever bad guy you are after,” Although you still disliked some aspects of Jay’s job, you loved that he was part of keeping the beautiful city safe. 

“Always, baby,” Jay smiled on the other side of the receiver, “I promise I’ll be home as soon as Hank cuts us loose. Tell Rambo she can’t make her appearance tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Quit calling her Rambo.” 

Jay’s smooth laugh filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “I love you, Y/N. I’ll be home soon.” 

You spent probably another half hour, until the bath water had run cold and the candles burnt out before you climbed out of the bath. You grabbed a pair of Jay’s boxers and one of his Chicago PD shirts, which seemed to be all that fit you at this point, and some of the only things that felt comfortable enough to wear. You propped the pillows up behind your back as you climbed into bed. Most nights you would fall asleep in the recliner, sitting up nearly straight felt better than laying in a bed. But for some reason, you felt safer lying in your shared bed than being out in the living room. 

Sleep didn’t come easy to you. Being almost 40 weeks pregnant, moving around trying to get comfortable wasn’t something new to you. But it wasn’t the feeling of your daughter kicking your ribs that kept you awake. You couldn’t turn your mind off, every slight howl of the wind or the creek of the old house had you jumping slightly, and looking around your dark bedroom. At some point you had drifted off to a light, fitful sleep, but were awoken by the sound of smashing glass. 

You gasped, looking around the room, your hand on your pounding heart. You sat still in your bed, straining your ears to hear if maybe it was Jay. But the sound of a groan, had you climbing out of bed, going straight to the safe in the closet. You punched in the code quickly, grabbing the gun and the magazine that Jay kept in there. You had only ever loaded a gun a handful of times, and prayed that you had done it right, as you grabbed your phone, and locked the bedroom door. You dialed 9-1-1 with shaky hands as you heard footsteps and a male grumbling. 

“I’m armed and calling 9-1-1!” You yelled out, hoping to scare off whoever was in your house. The trill of the line seemed to go on forever, until you were met with the sound of a dispatcher. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“I think someone broke into my house,” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady, “I-I’m Detective Halstead’s wife.” 

“Alright Mrs. Halstead,” The operator said, “Can you tell me where you are at?” 

“I’m in my bedroom. I locked the door and hid in the closet.” 

“Are you armed?” 

You looked down at the black gun on the bedroom floor, tears filling your eyes, “Y-Yes. But please hurry, I think-” 

The sound of the bedroom door banging opened caused you to gasp. You clamped a hand over your mouth as the footsteps grew closer to you, and prayed to anyone listening that you were going to make it through this. 

— — — 

Jay felt like he was about ready to fall asleep. The unit had been tasked with trying to find out who was behind a series of break-ins. It wasn’t their normal gig, break-ins were unfortunately common in their district, but the last two break-ins resulted in two homicides. Hank was going to right off the two homicides, saying that they still didn’t catch the eye of the intelligence unit, but the last two crime scenes had similar patterns to a case that Jay had worked several years ago. 

“Have you guys settled on a name?” Hailey asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

Jay shook his head with a smile, “She’s still set on Ophelia. But I think Sammy is better.” 

“Sammy?” Hailey asked, already guessing what Jay’s answer was going to be. 

“For Sammy Sosa!” 

Hailey shook her head, “Yeah, I agree with Y/N on this one.” Jay scoffed, and the silence stretched back across the cab of the truck, “Why do you think this is a revenge thing?” 

“I don’t know if it is a revenge thing, but I have a feeling it is,” Jay sighed, “The pattern just fits. 13 plain home invasions, then two homicides. The writings in blood on the walls of the crime scene? That wasn’t public knowledge.” 

“But why would Roger Sterling wait this long? What has it been, six years?” 

Jay nodded his head. It was one of his first cases in the intelligence units, and Hank was right when he said the first one sticks with you. Jay thought he had the facts right out in front of him. Roger Sterling checked all of the boxes for the home invader turned murderer, except one. The night of the third homicide, Roger had a solid alibi that was backed by his wife. But not having an alibi for two out of three murders was good enough for the jury to convict, and sent Roger to prison for two years. That was, until the conviction was overturned on the grounds of ���not enough solid evidence’. Roger was let go, but he held a vengeance for Jay. 

“I don’t know,” Jay ran a hand down his face, “I’m guessing he was probably stewing in his anger. He was proven innocent of all the crimes, but that still doesn’t give him a clean bill. He’s probably been angry for years and is now acting out.” 

“It just doesn’t make-” 

“All Units, All Units, we have an active call for a home invasion and the sound of gun fire.” 

Jay cursed, grabbing his radio, “This is 5021 George, what’s the address we’re in route.” 

“Address is three-twelve south Cleveland street.” 

Jay felt like his heart had stopped in his chest, as his radio fell from his hand. The only sound in his ears was the sound of his blood, roaring in his body. Everything had frozen, his hands began to shake and his vision went black. He couldn’t even hear or feel Hailey shaking him out of his trance, trying to get his attention. It was like Jay’s body moved on autopilot, as he pulled the truck out of park and sped towards his house. 

His house. 

The house his wife and child were home alone in. 

The house where there were gunshots fired. 

Jay barely put the truck in park as he arrived on scene, and didn’t even bother to shut the door as he jumped out and ran up the yellow police tape. The bright lights and sounds of sirens were making his head pound as he tried to push his way through to his house. He was brought out of his trance when he felt a hand on his chest, stopping him from approaching. Jay looked down, anger coursing through his bones. 

“Let me fucking go,” He sneered at Hank. 

“I can’t let you do that,” Hank’s gravelly voice sounded out. 

“That’s my wife!” 

“And this is a crime scene,” Hank barked back, “My crime scene.” Jay felt like he was going to throw up, as his knees gave out. Hank quickly wrapped an arm around him, helping him down to the curb. 

“Is she-” 

“She’s alive,” Hank responded, “But barely. They took her straight to Med, I called ahead and told Will to meet her there.” 

Jay felt like he could breathe a little bit better, knowing that his baby brother was going to be in charge of his wife’s care. It was as if Jay’s mind went blank, a factory reset as he looked at the members of his unit jump right into working the scene. 

“I need to see it,” Jay said, his voice lacking any emotion. Hailey, who stood behind him, gave Hank a look, but the older man knew Jay well enough. 

“C’mon,” Hank turned and walked towards the house, Jay hot on his heels. The two of them pushed through the yellow police tape, and Jay felt his heart tick again. 

The perfect house that Y/N had spent so much time on, was destroyed. Pieces of glass from the windows littered the floor, pictures on the wall had been skewed, bloody footprints left on the hardwood floors that took Jay way too long to fix up. 

Jay clenched his jaw, “Where was she?” 

“Perp came in through the back,” Adam explained, pointing to the open back door, “Looted around down here for a little bit, from what we can tell, nothing was taken.” Jay couldn’t even focus on seeing if anything was missing, he was more concerned on how Y/N ended up the victim. “Then he went upstairs,” Adam nodded his head towards the bloody footprints. 

Hank then led him up the stairs, where more uniforms stood around taking pictures, and putting numbered yellow place cards on the blood splatters. Normally, the coppery scent of blood didn’t bother Jay, but this had him feeling sick as he approached his bedroom. 

“The 9-1-1 call was dialed from in here,” Hank said, “Her phone was found in the closet along with a nine mil.” Jay felt some sense of pride that Y/N knew to get the gun from the safe. He could remember the day he had first brought it home and how much she had protested having a weapon in the house. But Jay promised it would be the only weapon they had and it was going to be under lock and key at all times. 

“Did she fire it?” Jay asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Hank nodded, “Bullet embedded in the wall.” 

“She missed,” Jay shook his head, his blue eyes looking down at the huge blood spot on the bedroom floor. “Is th-that her. . .” Hank nodded his head again. Jay let out a shuddering breath as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was as if time had finally stopped, and Jay came to a sickening realization about the blood on the floor, “The baby. . .” His eyes widened as he looked at Hank, who had a grime expression on his face, “Where is my baby?” 

Hank looked at Adam, who stood in the doorway, “We have an amber alert-” 

Jay stood up from the bed immediately, but Hank put a hand on his chest, “Get your fucking hand off of me.” 

“We found this next to her,” Hank handed Jay a note. 

Jay took the yellow piece of notebook paper, which was folded in half and a polaroid picture was in the middle. The picture was of Y/N, and it looked to be taken not that long ago, her round pregnant belly protruding out as she stood in front of the large bay window of the living room. Written in what Jay prayed was red ink were the words: 

“I warned you.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Guys: I'm disappointed in you

G/N. (Jakey, Sammy, Goo, Gun, Vin, Ryuhei, DG, Johan, Vasco). Masterlists

You're not pissed off. You're much worse, disappointed.

Hands on your hips, finger dangerously close to wagging and lecturing them.

His intimidating presence does nothing to deter how you feel-

Jake's face drops and his eyes fall to the ground.

Whether he thinks he did anything wrong is one thing, but disappointing you is more than enough for him to feel bad.

He bows, bending at the waist a full 90 degrees and then some, and asks for your forgiveness. Face sincere and of utmost seriousness no matter how petty the crime.

Samuel scoffs and leaves. He doesn't need this.

But he tosses and turns that night, daddy and mommy issues playing up. The need for approval and validation from someone he respects gnaws at him, and he doesn't sleep a wink.

The next day he returns to you, bags under his eyes, pretending to be unaffected by your previous disagreement yet trying to get back into your good graces with expensive gifts.

"Disappointed?" Goo echoes, blinking owlishly, as if he couldn't fathom that he could be disappointing to anyone.

He whines and pouts, and is close to throwing a tantrum. Obviously your words having an effect on him.

In the end he does mutter an apology though you doubt the sincerity, especially if the look in his eyes are anything to go by.

Gun ignores you though you see the defiant twitch in his jaw from your words.

He doesn't care, why should he.

Except you catch him staring at you the rest of the day or week or until whenever your ire ebbs away. There's a strange awkwardness to his being, like he doesn't know how he should act around you.

The apology doesn't come if he thinks it's undeserved and unneeded, but he also doesn't want to see that look in your eyes again.

Vin scoffs, pretends he doesn't care. Calls you a nag, a wet blanket, all sorts of frustrating names.

Yet the guilt eats away at him. Your eyes, the playful expression you usually wear is now just replaced with disappointment.

He tries to involve Mary to worm his way back into your good books, she tells him to piss off and eventually he comes to you, tail between his legs and a poorly formed apology (likely as a rap).

Ryuhei's eyes are suspiciously wet. You think he's sniffling, the tip of his nose turned pink and he's trying to keep a brave face but god, he feels like a complete failure.

He drops to his knees and immediately offers to commit seppuku. When you roll your eyes and tell him to stop being ridiculous, he says he will do anything to make this right. That he would rather die than ever disappoint you again.

DG, usually ruled by logic but too often bratty and arrogant, considers whether this is a hill worth dying on. It's not.

Considers whether it warrants an apology, and it does. But does he deliver? Not always. Lets you simmer until he presents you with a grand gesture and a winning K-Pop smile he reserves for award shows.

His charm works on you less than he'd like, but more than you'd prefer.

Johan looks as if he's been slapped, before turning on his heels and leaving.

It takes him a surprisingly short amount of time to come back, feeling contrite. He doesn't say sorry but the unspoken apology runs round and round his mind.

Instead he drifts to your side constantly like a shadow, trying to catch your eye, seek out some of your warmth and hoping for your forgiveness.

Regardless of what it is you're disappointed with, Vasco Tabasco thinks you are the best. A literal angel descended to Earth that has graced his life.

So if you're disappointed then whatever he is doing must be wrong and is worth apologising for.

He does just that. Offers to make up for it however you see fit. Completely heartfelt even if he doesn't know entirely why.

[a5rora]

❤️‍🔥 | Old Flames

billy the kid x rich f!reader

word count; 2k words || dividers by @firefly-graphics

ch. 𝐈𝐈

SYPNOSIS༄In Billy’s lonesome world, comes along his significant former lover from his adolescence that he faces once again after being separated from one another. After not being with you for over a decade, he doesn’t know how to face you when he has begun a life of crime, a wanted man with many enemies. He doesn’t want to lose his lover once more, but could she ever love him along with all his flaws? Will their love prevail despite the reputation of Billy the kid?

content warning: FLUFF, angst, eventual SMUT, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of memory loss, substance abuse¿, ollinger, mentions of alcoholism, flashbacks intended, smoking, mentions of catholicism, storytelling is inspired by the original show’s major elements/events. (billy’s birth name is henry mccarty)

Suspense collectively consumed each man in the room when the game of poker finally reached the showdown. Each remaining player placed their hands one by one until the last turn to reveal his cards was Billy. All attention was on Billy the kid.

The men watched closely with anticipation as Billy slowly placed his cards to reveal a winning hand of royal flush. The players made distinctive reactions of defeat in response to their losses.

Billy was known to be a lucky gambler among his peers but no matter how good he was, he only gambled occasionally.

He grabbed his winnings off of the table and quickly prepared to leave for another drink.

The night was the same as always. It became a habit for Billy to drink his thoughts away. It felt like his sober mind couldn’t bare the worries of the growing rivalry between Tunstall’s and Murphy’s businesses. In a room with so much liveliness, his loneliness gnawed in his chest. Billy felt lonelier, noticing his friendship with Jesse become more distant since the beginning of their time working for Murphy…

Until he saw you.

Billy couldn’t believe his eyes the moment they landed on you, there you stood metres away from the gambling den.

The lovely sleeveless silk dress you wore fit perfectly on your body, hugging the curves of your figure.

A crafted corset that matched the hues of your skirt and floral lace brushing over your smooth shoulders. His focused gaze fell upon your face and the sentiments of adulation in his soul grew for you.

It was like he fell in love with you once more.

The tempo of his heartbeat rose along with the temperature of his cheeks when he saw your smile. Billy pushed away the feelings of discomfort when he noticed Jesse beside you, clearly being friendly with you.

He slightly turned away, trying to distract himself from the current thoughts invading his mind. Billy reminded himself of the time you had spent together, growing up with each other before your individual circumstances separated you from one another. The little rebels that you once were. He remembered when you both made it a habit to venture into the wild despite the countless warnings that your parents had given you.

A particular moment stuck out to him…

The bright sunshine in the afternoon transitioned into a faint evening. It was soon that your parents would notice that you travelled farther that you both should have.

“Henry!” y/n called out from the trees. But the boy stood still, watching the thieves above the hill as they ambush the farmers who stood their ground by the stables. He was dangerously close to the hill, a clear witness to the petty crime.

“Please Henry, come here now!” y/n pleads once more, startling the boy and bringing him out of his trance. His azure eyes find hers, he begins rushing into the forest.

You took his hand as he got closer and pulled him towards you. You sat down on your knees beneath the fremont trees and gestured for him to sit down beside you.

You looked to him, his gaze focused straight into space. Bringing your hand to his cheek, you turn his face towards you and wipe the teardrops from his sad, doe eyes.

You bring his forehead to yours and he takes your hands in his. “It’ll be okay Henry, I promise.”

Ever since that occurence, you had an unspoken devotion of loyalty for one another.

Before his immigrant family moved away, you and Billy made a promise to find each other again in this lifetime. But over time, his faith and hope diminished slowly after he lost you along with the latter of his loved ones.

Now here you were, walking and smiling before his eyes. Before this moment, his life seemed to be nothing but desperate and lonely. However, being in your presence made him feel like the hope that he had lost long ago returned to his heart. Billy’s mind was piqued by the irresistible urge to be near you, to meet you and seek refuge in your comfort.

But his present reality prevented him from fulfilling his wish of coming up to you. The aching feeling grew in his heart and flooded his soul. He felt guilty from the betrayal of his promise to you while you stood there, oblivious and looking so beautiful.

Laughter and chatter repeated throughout the entire saloon as you followed your friend Jessie who accompanied you to the bar, “How does it feel to be free y/n?” the blonde smiles at you which you return.

You exhaled and leaned your elbows on the bar counter behind you, “Feels amazin’- Girl like me can only dream of being this free forever.” A genuine sigh left your mouth, in contrast to your previously bright and bubbly mood a few minutes ago.

Your friend frowns slightly at you out of sympathy. The fading conversation between you and Jessie was interrupted by a tall cowboy who entered from the other room.

He towered over you both and you take notice of his wavy brunette hair as he lowers his head to take off his hat.

When he straightened himself, your eyes met with his familiar blue pair. His intense gaze trapped the air in your lungs and you swallowed, trying to remind yourself of the confidence you walked into this bar with.

You were proud of yourself for not getting caught sneaking out from your balcony tonight compared to your weekend night two weeks ago.

At the time of the incident, you didn’t have the best luck when you were sneaking past the gate doors. Your brother having caught you just after you managed to pass by the gate entrance.

Luckily tonight, you were here to have fun. You promised not to be bounded by the standards of your status.

You wanted to celebrate your newfound freedom and feel comfortable in your appearance.

The brunette did not hesitate with his wandering gaze over your body. As much as he wanted to, he wanted to upkeep his appearance as a gentleman towards you of course.

Jessie wrapped his arm towards his friend and brings him closer to you. “This is my good friend William.” you tilted your head, confused by the feelings that consumed you when your eyes met and every moment leading up to this one. You had seen him before but you were unsure why and how he was so familiar to you.

“Names’ Y/n, Y/f/n.” you introduced, your mouth couldn’t help but to return his handsome smile.

Your heart fluttered and so did your lashes when you looked up in his eyes. You shared a moment of awe towards each other, you were lost in his captivating blue eyes.

Jesse stood awkwardly between you two, “Y’all know each other or sumn?” Feeling uncomfortable from the silence that your moment with Billy distracted you from. You shook your head no to answer his question.

Billy looked away and placed his hat back onto his head. “No, but sure would’ve been nice to know such a pretty girl like you.” You pressed your lips to a smile, feeling your heart sieze from his words.

“Luckily you’ve got lots of time to get to know me William.”

“Y’can call me Billy.” He offered. Billy’s usual cold and inscrutable demeanour was swept away when it came to you. A tender smile appearing across his face. “I’ll take you up on that cariña.”

“Well, I’ll leave ya two lovebirds to mingle.” Jessie chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before going in the direction Billy came from.

“So where’d you come from?” He quickly asks you before ordering a drink for himself. His own curiosity getting to him. He needed to know for sure that it was you, not necessarily in the right mind to feed into the thoughts that swarmed his head. It was only your answer that could give him the clarity that he was searching for.

“Damn Billy,” you giggled, “buy the girl a drink first.” You teased, nudging his arm and he grins.

“Hmm, well my family’s from New Mexico originally but we moved to New York for a bit where my daddy started a coal business back there.” You started and leaned your back against the counter, noticing Billy’s concentration on you and what you had say. You felt his sincere reverence towards you and his character seemed unlike most men- If not every man that you usually meet in the towns you had stayed in previously.

You exhaled, “Then we moved from town to town quite a bit to grow our business.” He nodded, his continued fixation on you starting to make you feel slightly nervous from how he acted towards you. “My brother and I are just followin’ my old man to take care of him wherever he goes and wherever the business takes us.” You exhaled before continuing. “Took us to here now, in Lincoln.” You explained, swirling the drink in your hand before finishing the rest of it.

“I see.” He finishes his drink before asking, “You like it here?”

You played with the cup in your hands. “I think so. I’m just startin’ to like it a lot more.” you flirt with a smile and his lips beam with shyness.

“Would you like another?” He points to your glass in your hands.

You grinned, “How could I turn down a drink from you?”

He smiles at you, ordering your drink for you like a gentleman. He grabs your drinks from the bartender, gesturing you to a seat beside him. You sit down on the barstool, Billy pushes your glass closer to you and you take it. “What about you, Billy?” You look to him beside you, swallowing his drink before clearing his throat.

“What’d you like to know?” He gazed at you with an inscrutable expression.

You bit your bottom lip, “Where are you from then?”

Your question didn’t come as a surprise but it still made his heart ache to know that you didn’t remember.

You didn’t recognize him. Which meant you didn’t remember the time you had spent together in your early adolescence. He tried to hold onto his hope but he had himself to blame for not reminding you of those memories sooner.

He drove away the doubts in his mind and turned to you. “My family immigrated from Ireland way back.” He answered shortly, in contrast to the plentiful conversation you gave him and you frown.

“What do you do? You a cowboy too?” You ask out of curiosity. But before he could reply, Jesse storms out of the saloon, he pushes the doors that start swinging hard and bang hard against the walls. The hinges squeak from the impact. “I’ll be right back.” Billy says to you before following after his friend outside the bar. You nod and let out a quiet sigh as you watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Hey beautiful, did Billy leave ya on your own?” A man said from behind you, making you flinch.

The man was Bob Ollinger. You turn to face him completely and you smelled a swift of liquor from his mouth. You tilt your head at the drunk man, “Y’know anything about what’s happening outside?” He looks at you for a moment, Ollinger seemed like he was still trying to comprehend your words. That was all you needed to confirm that he is way too drunk. You blinked repeatedly for a second before your eyes settle to the ground.

Ollinger ignores your question, “C’mon with me. I wouldn’t leave you here just by yourself.”

It didn’t matter anymore what little friendship you developed with the guy, you didn’t want to be disrespected due to his intoxication. “Best you go somewhere else Ollinger.” You drank the last of the alcohol in your glass as he stands there dumbfounded.

“Y’gettin smart on me girl, that it?” He challenged with a sour tone in his growl.

“You can go on your way to bother another poor woman with your vices.” You spat, earning chuckles from the men and women around you.

“Don’t be a fucking tease you little bitch.” There went the last bit of respect you had for him, along with your unrequited friendship. Ollinger definitely did not see you as your friend and to your trepidation, he grabs your arm and pulls you off your seat.

You wince from his hurtful grip, “Fuck off!” Tears starting to pool in your eyes and blur the corners of your vision. You came to the realization that no reaction or intervention would ever come from anybody that watched you struggle.

You scream as Billy abruptly strikes a punch across Ollinger’s face, his body falling to the floor on impact. You could see the blood immediately coming out of his nose when Ollinger picks himself up from the ground. A dark smirk appears across his face. “Sorry didn’t know she was your whore.” You watched in horror as Billy punches him once more. The two drunk men proceeded to attack one another with punches while you shouted for Billy to stop.

Ollinger’s words made your chest twinge in pain. You didn’t want to be just one of Billy’s sluts, although you reckon that they probably enjoyed it.

You tried your best to remember why he looked so familiar.

But what stuck out to you was the longing feeling in your chest of being in his presence and more.

However, that’s when you remember where you recognize Billy from. The same poster you saw prior to meeting Billy tonight was plastered along the pillar that stood next to the saloon doors.

A wanted poster for the outlaw, Billy the kid.

-

thank you for reading <33 this is my first fic on tumblr

im also taking requests for any billy drabbles & oneshots ;)

this will be a short series, follow for pt2! it’s currently in the drafts and ill make sure to post it before finals lolol pls reblog it means a lot <3

[etaleah]

What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?

I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.

When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.

To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:

Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.

Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.

Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.

IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.

You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.

Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.

Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.

Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.

Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:

Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.

And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.

I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.

[angelofacidx]

Pet pt 2

CW: Drugging, kidnapping, abuse, etc you get it

Part 1:

Your wrists had been rubbed raw and blistered from the constant use of handcuffs and your incessant thrashing. The collar, Simon quickly found out, was not a good fit for you. When determined enough you could slip it over your head, squishing down your nose and tugging strands of hair out. It had been eight—no, nine. Nine days after your first escape attempt. You track the days from their computer in the office, straining your leg as far as it will from your fixed position on the floor until your foot bumps the keyboard and brings the monitor to life. Nine days since the incident, and fifteen since you’ve been taken.

The screened side door was open like an invitation when you’d gotten free from the collar, and who were you to deny a mercy? Your captors seemed to be gone every three or four days for a couple hours to make the trek into town. If memory served, you’d have about an hour before they got back. It was now or never. You were off like a bullet, whizzing through the yard and beginning your journey onto the desolate dirt road. Maybe there’d be a car to help you, or hit you. You didn’t care at this point.

About a mile up the road your prayers were answered. A big black beat up truck sat just to the side of the road, parked, and—Oh fuck. Johnny was the first one out of the vehicle, a deeply wounded expression on his face as he paced towards you, frozen in fear. You didn’t even register Simon following behind him.

“Told ya Johnny. Can’t trust mutts to behave.” Simon announced, smugly.

He set you up. He wanted to catch you in the act. The bastard.

Your memories come to a dead stop, the pain in your ankles taking the forefront of your mind. They’d snapped them when you escaped, as easily as busting open a glow stick. Your punishment left you unable to walk or stand, only crawl on your hands and knees, wobbly like a puppy.

The door to the office opened slowly, letting you know from the action alone that it was Johnny and not Simon who would swing the door open so hard it hit the wall.

“Brought ye some food and a blanket.” His voice calm as he puts the plate on the floor for you and drapes the blanket over the hard surface of the crate you’d been sleeping in at night.

You watch him take a seat on the office chair, his hand extending to your head and offering you a few reassuring and affectionate pats. As much as you hate to admit it, the act of kindness doesn’t go unappreciated.

“Simon says if ye eat up we can take ye in the yard tomorrow. Good for ye to get some air.” He says, offering you a small smile.

Your gaze shifts down to the plate on the floor. The same leftovers that had been prepared for you since you started your little hunger strike. There was no way you’d eat off of the plate with your mouth like a dog. Sure, it was a weird hill to die on but you wanted the dignity of a table god dammit. Simon warned you that you’d be served the same cold leftovers until you caved or died of starvation. The choice was yours.

“Not hungry.” You grumble up to Johnny, wincing slightly as you try to shift away from the plate. Your ankle pain makes itself very known.

“C’mon sweetheart. I ken yer starving.” He says with a click of his tongue, picking up a piece of cold chicken off the plate.

“Open up.” He hums, extending it towards your mouth.

You do open up alright, but completely pass the food and opt for sinking your canine teeth into poor Johnny’s forearm. It’s petty and childish and not something you’d normally do, but you want him to feel a fraction of the pain you do. They want a wild animal? They’ll get one.

Johnny lurches back with a hiss, holding his arm and trying to rub out the grooves your teeth left to give himself some relief. Satisfaction washes over you for all of two seconds before your face smashes into the ground, a boot holding down the base of your skull.

“Stupid bitch.” Simon grunts from above, pressing harder until you squirm and cry out.

The boot is replaced by Simon’s hand weaving itself into your hair and yanking you up to meet his icy gaze. How is he always so quiet? How long had he been standing there?

“I’m done with your little games and tantrums. Open the fuck up. Now.” He says, his voice pure venom and malice.

You follow his demand, letting your lips part and head tilt back, balancing on your aching knees and trying to keep pressure off your injured ligaments.

“This is your fault too,” Simon quips as he rips down Johnny’s pants and boxers revealing his soft cock. “Coddled it too much. Now it thinks actions don’t have consequences.”

Johnny’s hips are pushed forward until his pelvic bone meets your nose and his cock is guided into your mouth by Simon’s hand. Feeling it begin to harden makes your eyes widen, beginning to sputter and choke, but Simon simply forces you back down onto him.

“Stay.” He commands, lowering his tone and exiting the room.

Johnny casts his eyes down to you, his expression half lust and half pity, his lower lip jutting out slightly as he tries to reassure you with a hand through your hair. It works temporarily and you scold yourself for feeling anything for someone who had a hand in your capture.

Simon returns shortly with a single long black paracord woven between his fingers. Quickly, the cord is secured around the base of your skull and meets around Johnny’s ass where he loops it a few times before tying it off; effectively trapping you to Johnny’s pelvis with his dick crammed down your throat.

“I will be back in an hour and we will try dinner and bed time again.” Simon announces before slamming the door, leaving you to overstimulate Johnny’s cock with your sputtering as you fight to breathe.

You’ll definitely take this as a lesson.

[swayziiwriter]

Petty | Jude Bellingham

summary: when your best friend Jude decides to avert his attention to a desperate blonde you decide to turn the tables on him with none other then Jadon Sancho.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

Amongst the blaring music in the club you can still hear his voice. I'm Jude, you're not bad yourself, I could use another drink. The obnoxious blonde who had found her way to Jude now had her hands on him, tracing the collar of his black dress shirt. The worst part about it was that he was letting her.

He didn't even taken a second glance at you, pathetic you thought to yourself. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebrations, Englands EURO qualifications games were spectacular. Though, you wanted nothing more than to go home. Jude was your best friend, your best friend who you we're undeniably in love with. So coming here tonight was supposed to be your chance of telling him how you felt, but instead you were watching from afar as Jude got felt up by some bimbo.

 You were infuriated beyond extent, your emotions mixed with the alcohol that was coursing through your body was dangerous. All your feelings were heightened, including your sexual drive. You wanted to forget about this constant pain in your heart every time Jude turned up to end up spending the night with some girl. Tired of all the countless nights fixated on how to finally express your emotions you decided that it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. Jude wasn't clueless about your feelings, a few drunken kisses made sure he knew. But still he never brought it up, instead he avoided it like the plague and you were tired of it.

"Stare any harder and you'll burn a hole in the back of his head" a voice quipped. "That's sort of the point" you seethed, not feeling in much of a positive mood anymore. You recognized the voice immediately, it belonged to Jadon Sancho teammate and friend of Jude. You were across from the bar the huge dance floor in front view. Hundreds of sweaty, drunk and horny people rubbing up against each other hoping to get laid. "Why'd you let him ruin your mood?" He questioned with a smirk. "You can be an asshole sometimes you know that" you replied taking down another shot, the burning sensation in your throat causing you to forget about Jude for just a second.

"Dance with me y/n" Jadon proposed, "oh Jadon I don't thi-" he cut you off with a small chuckle."This isn't for me y/n, this is too show Jude just what he's missing" he continued. Your brain was telling you to say no, yelling at you to take the high road and just ignore Jude for the night. But you couldn't.

Smiling at his genius antics hand in hand you two made your way down to the dance floor. "The hills" starting to echo through the large building as your warm bodies were flushed up against each other, your back to his front. Jude was watching, he had been watching from the second Jadon left his teammate's side to be with you.

Watching as you lightly grinded your body into Jadon's, Jude was livid. Watching as his hands rose up your body had him squirming, a deep feeling in his gut enough for him to want to throw up all the alcohol he had consumed earlier in the night. Dancing with Jadon was funner than expected, he would occasionally whisper subtle "he's looking, ah there he goes squirming again" leaving you to let out genuine laughs, laughs that Jude could hear all to well over the blaring music.

The blonde who had been around Jude for longer than his own liking was soon kicked to the curb as he soon realized you had been doing the same mechanism as him. Making the other one Jealous. Jude let Jadon bring his hands from behind as far as your stomach before he marched towards the dance floor, drink in one hand and nothing in the other. He had left this go on for to long, he couldn't stand the feeling of another man touching you, feeling your soft skin, your perfect lips.

"Oh shit, he's coming over here" Jadon yelled over the music, leaning into your body. "Y/n" Jude yelled over the music, "what Jude" you spat back, still pissed that he had let that blonde touch him. Jadon returned glances between both of you before making the decision to get out of there, sending you an apologetic look as he left you to fend alone against Jude. Jude continued to look at you with wide eyes, expecting an answer. "Can't you take a hint Bellingham I was in the middle of danc-" "dancing?" He interrupted. "You were all over him y/n, fucking hell are you trying to kill me?" He yelled. "Me!?" You replied, "you're the one who's had a bimbo on your ass all night. Sue me for wanting to have some actual fun" you spat.

The air was becoming thick, the tension and smell of sex in the air was becoming suffocating. Your mind felt as if it was running a thousand miles an hour. "If you're not man enough to tell me that you want me, then there's no reason why I shouldn't go fuck around with someone like Jadon" you continued to hurl insults at him before he finally snapped. Crashing his lips against yours in a heated passion.

Your hands were roaming over his chest as his lips worked in sync with yours. Jude gives you a firm but still tender kiss the tension between you and him was killing you both. He's hard about it and tells you he's wanted you for so long, but his touch is still gentle. He is letting you know that he has also always liked you.

The music at the club doesn't bother you. You basically let his tongue investigate your own, and let your bodies press together among all the intensity, strain, and horniness.

Finally, when you both leave the room to get some fresh air, the following events that come after are neglected. In the midst of the sexual tension, horniness, and outright neediness, it is forgotten. The backseat of the taxi you are both in is a blur of hasty movements, hasty kisses, and long groaning awaiting to arrive. When you get to Jude's condo his movements are fast, your back hits his bed the midst of a heavy make out. Clothes, his tie, shoes, and your heels were all left on the floor in the trail of your exasperated needs.

He was hovering over you, taking in every inch of your body as it curved into his, his hard cock hitting your thighs as your body shuddered with pleasure. Jude brought his hand down to your core, teasing your folds as he spoke dirty words into your ear. He slipped two fingers into your dripping pussy, collecting your wetness in between his fingers. 

Your hands gripped at the sheets as he worked on your pussy, fingering you fast to your release. His voice was thick with lust as he felt you clench around him and wrap your legs around his waist as he continued to press his fingers inside of you. "you look so pretty for me baby."

Your back arched from the bed as you watched his beautiful face, and it took all of your inner strength not to cum. "Gonna cum all over my fingers?" He questioned, "be a good girl and cum all over my fingers" you body shook with pleasure white noise talking over as the euphoric feeling took over your body.

You were moaning his name in an attempt to stop the overstimulation on your core. "Wanna feel you" you managed to gasp out between breathes. He pushed your body up the bed, spreading your legs just enough to settle himself in between them, "about to be so ruined for me" he tapped his cock against your wet folds, the action alone making you cry out in frustration. "I'm not going to stop until your dripping with my cum" he said pushing into your tight pussy. Because you didn't anticipate that movement, you let out a small cry of surprise mixed with a moan of pleasure.

To fully appreciate how his cock got inside of you and how your walls tightened around it, you had to close your eyes for a while. He moved inside of you briefly, using only one hand; He placed your leg and the other on his shoulder by lifting your leg; He gave your clit a rub. You had the impression that his thrusts were reaching deeper within you because of the angle your leg was at.

Jude stopped stroking your clit to wrap one of his hands around your neck. You were certain that your moans had already turned into tiny screams while he was deep within you. You arched your back with pleasure. Before you took that forearm and squeezed it, Jude gently stroked the skin on your neck. He probably accepted that as a sign since he applied a touch of tension.

You tried to complain, but all you got was a sound that sounded like you were gasping as his pace picked up. You tried to yell, or at least try to, because your lips were being caressed by his thumb as he continued to press on them. When you were already almost there, your pussy voluntarily tightened around his cock. You were in an orgasmic state when Jude let out a deep growl.

Your pussy continued to pulse around his cock as he followed you a few seconds later. Before rolling next to you, he took your hand out of the ring around his neck. Your lungs were asking for air, your mind was a finished wreck, and your vision obscured until you could slow down and rest. You could feel beads of Judes cum rolling down your sweaty thighs.

You and Jude had given into your needs and it never felt better. You wanted to feel him every where, all the time. He wanted it too, the way his eyes never left yours was evidence of it, the way his body connected with yours was beautiful. You and Jude were in sync, complete with each other.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nobody asked me buuuut here's some of my hc of what the mum's/sisters would do in the Melting Pot universe:

Alexia gives me business owner vibes, not sure what the business would be though

Jeni gives me lawyer vibes

Lucy would be either a CEO oooor a police officer

Keira could be a teacher

Alessia would still be in college

Leah could be a DJ or a firefigther

Lia could be an engeener (not sure what could be)

Katie could be a firefighter or a police officer (while coaching karate to kids on her spare time)

Caitlin could be a vet

Viv could be a writer or a mechanic (idk not sure)

Beth would be a kindergarden teacher

Mapi would def be a tatoo artist

Ingrid would be a CEO too....idk she gives me powerful business woman vibes or a Model

Caro could be a firefighter while Marta could be a paramedic

Ona could be a vet too or a pilot (idk)

Aitana gives me profesional chef vibes

Frido would be a model

the rest idk....

Okay so this is just going to be a big infodump of the ideas I have for the dynamics between all the families so this might be kind of long. I'll probably put them into a masterlist at some point but probably after I move out

So, Alexia and Jenni had the twins (Bambi and Pequeñita) together before having a fairly amicable divorce. Business owner Alexia but the businesses she owns is a chain of fairly fancy restaurants and Jenni definitely gives lawyer vibes. So, they broke up and Alexia got with Olga to have Jaume and Jenni had Osita.

They're fairly chill with each other and their custody schedule is flexible and dictated by the twins so Pequeñita usually stays with Alexia while Bambi tends to go between them (now more heavily with Jenni now that Jaume's been born).

Lucy and Keira's relationship is also on the rocks. They were planning on adopting just as Keira got pregnant but decided to keep both plans going and then when they were settled, they adopted again to get Pup. They had a good relationship but it's kind of fizzling out and they're only really staying in the same house for the kids while pursuing different partners outside (thinking about if Lucy's a police officer then Ona might be a new recruit and Keira teaching at a local secondary school and Laura is the new teacher there).

Alessia is the frazzled uni student that's part time employed at one of Alexia's restaurants as a waitress so she's balancing it all while also caring for her little sister, Tesoro. They're always riding the line between on time and late.

Leah being a firefighter so she's on quite long shifts sometimes so taking care of Bug and Bean sometimes falls to Jordan (her amicable ex and Bug's other mum) who's all too happy to look after them both.

Thinking also about how Lia might be working in or around the fire station too (maybe admin???) who adores her little Guppy, who comes into the station every weekend to make sure it's all clean and tidy.

Actually, now that I think about it. Katie and Caitlin both being firefighters as well but working on opposite shifts so someone is always around to look after Gremlin and Kiddo. Rue's Katie's ex and Kiddo's other mum who just kind of does temp work where she's needed. The breakup is still a little toxic because Katie almost immediately got with Caitlin and had Gremlin. Kiddo is still adjusting.

Viv has her own column in the newspaper that she writes around caring for Munchkin and making paper sharks with Liefje while Beth probably has a job where she gets to be quite social with other people.

Daan is Beth's ex and they kind of had a kid together but still kind of didn't because Ellie's the one signed on as Pipsqueak's other mum but everyone is still friends and Pipsqueak gets sent off to Beth and Viv's house for babysitting during Daan and Ellie date nights.

Ingrid is definitely giving powerful ceo vibes. She's loaded with cash and has a big house up a hill somewhere so all her kids + Nena can have their own rooms and spaces. Mapi's tattoo artist income is practically petty change to Ingrid but she likes that Mapi's still doing something she's passionate about. Nena moved in with Ingrid somewhere between Sunshine being adopted and Teeny being born and settles right in with the rest of the pack.

Caro and Marta probably had a really sweet meet cute in the park when Conejita came over to the patch of flowers Caro was sitting next to and started picking them. Caro saw Marta and knew she was a goner.

Aitana working as a chef in Alexia's restaurant and actually getting recommended the school for Estrella by Alexia, who in turn, got the recommendation from Mapi who got it from Ingrid, who only really moved to the area because she heard the school was really good.

Frido as a model or as Ingrid's cfo who is looking after her baby sister and being all powerful and hot at the exact same time. She makes it seem so effortless.

Mary also being a semi-frazzled uni student who's probably working on a masters or PhD and she does her studying while little Rugrat is teaching herself how to read over in the corner or pointing out Mary's spelling mistakes before she submits a paper.

Steph being a single mum who probably works for the same paper that Viv does and recommends the area for Mini and Clara to bring Harper and Bubs too. Harper gets put into a different school than Bubs but that's alright because Bubs is in the same class as Angel and Mini swears she's never seen Bubs so bright and happy before.

Jessie also being at the local uni trying to wrap up her engineering degree. She's dealing with the pressure a lot better than Mary and Alessia are and she's got such a sweet Duckie to take to the park to decompress after a hard exam.

Emma recently moved Squish to the area to finally live with Frida permanently. I'm not sure what they would work out but they probably have a nice little house that backs into a forest so they can have long walks with Jordan and forage for mushrooms and berries.

Kristie probably works as a beautician or something similar while Sam works outside (I'm not quite sure as what) so it's no surprise that their kid Chook rolls in dirt and has fantastic eyebrows.

Magda and Pernille being lecturers at the university with really fancy credentials. Magda's been working there for a bit while Pernille taught in Germany and a job opened up so Pernille took it quickly, moving her and Princesse over to be closer to Magda.

[awyeahitssam]

Stiles figures out the whole werewolf thing when he’s nine years old, and never mentions it.

Not when he’s eleven and his dad is stressing over mountain lion manslaughter, when he’s fifteen and his best friend ditches him for the Hale brood, or when he’s seventeen and Cora punctures his tires with claws after he beats her out for first place in a countywide Young Writers competition.

If the Hale’s want to kill supernaturals invading their territory, that’s their right. If Scott wants to pretend they weren’t once brothers to each other just because he’s no longer dangerously asthmatic or socially stunted, Stiles can accept that too. And if Cora wants to take out her petty frustrations on Claudia Stilinski’s jeep - well, fuck yes will he get his vengeance but he’s certainly not going to blackmail her just because she’s stupid enough to pop claws in broad daylight. 

(Instead Stiles threatened to leak photos of Cora making out with her twin’s ex-girlfriend in the bathroom of the local diner - time stamped before they broke up. It was enough to make her personally change and finance his baby’s tires, plus teach the stunted bitch a lesson on messing with Stiles.

It may also help the girls' dismal attempts at subterfuge.

He doubted it, though.) 

For all that people go on about Stiles not being able to keep his smart mouth shut, he’s very good at saying nothing of substance.

In the end Stiles moved away for college without anybody discovering he knew all about Beacon Hill's supernatural secret. 

(He warded the Sheriff’s house to kingdom come. It was subtle enough that the local pack wouldn’t notice, but if anything looking to hurt his dad came bumping through the night they would sooner be burned to ash than touch a hair on the Sheriff’s oblivious human head.) 

Stiles gets the call on Christmas Eve. 

Parrish - the only Deputy he doesn’t have a file full of blackmail on - tells him his father is in the hospital and might not make it. He says he hasn’t been shot when asked, but stays vague when Stiles demands to know what happened even as he throws together a bag and sends an all-caps text to Jocelyn, a study partner who works at the airport and will be able to get him on the soonest available flight to San Francisco. 

Stiles emotionally manipulates and cajoles and blackmails, and still gets nothing more than vague replies from Jordan. Clark, Whittings and Jones don’t answer their phones.

When Stiles gets to Beacon Hills heads are going to roll.

- Stiles pulls into Beacon Memorial at three in the morning Christmas day, parks in the first spot he sees (because fuck reserved parking) and hightails it towards the nurse’s station.

“Get me the status of the Sheriff,” he orders a vaguely familiar nurse, who doesn’t even bat a lash at his brisk tone. The hospital staff is almost as familiar as the police force; they helped raise him when his mother couldn’t, and even after, when he hung around after school with Scott. 

Beacon Hills residents acknowledged that Stiles Stilinski didn’t mess around about his father's health. 

(When Stiles was fourteen the Sheriff got shot in the gut. The condescending prick of a doctor who refused to give ‘a child’ information on his father was fired, ruined, and run out of town within the month.)

“He was found with a head wound but it’s stopped bleeding, and I know his vitals have stabilized,” she says, first off. “You’ll have to ask his doctor for more information, hon. Room 317.”

Stiles doesn’t relax, can’t until he sees his father is perfectly alright for himself, but he nods and tries for a smile. It strains across his face and drops within a few seconds, so he turns and makes for the ICU. 

“And Stiles?” calls the nurse. “He has visitors.” 

It turns out ‘visitors’ means that there are three Hale’s, an Argent, and an ex-best friend hanging outside the Sheriff’s room. Stiles feels well on his way to bashing in a couple of faces, especially when Scott looks up at him like he’s an injured puppy and says, empathetic, “Stiles.” 

See, this is why it took some convincing to get Stiles to accept his full-ride to NYU. Stiles just fucking knew that his dad would get drawn into supernatural shit while he was gone, and he had been stupid enough to believe that the Deputy’s would actually do as ordered and keep him updated on more than just his father’s eating habits.

Oh, he would be having words with Robins. 

Out of the assembled Hale’s - Talia, Laura, and Peter - two look long-suffering and one is arranging their face into something resembling sorry. Chris Argent is showing no emotion but the way he watches Stiles is careful, almost wary. And Scott just looks plain guilty, which isn’t a good sign for his continued health because Stiles has killed to keep his dad safe before and he would damn sure do it again.

(Maybe he’ll kill them all, if the Sheriff dies.)

Stiles drops the calm facade that he’s been clutching at for the past twelve goddamned hours, takes a step forward, and stares down the local Alpha.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. It’s inconspicuous enough, something an oblivious human would ask when apparent strangers were crowding the waiting area. 

“Stiles, isn’t it?” Talia asks, standing to meet his height and reaching out for a handshake. He doesn’t spare the limb a glance, narrowed eyes demanding answers. “We were assisting your father on a case when he was injured. We’re here to make sure he’s alright.”

Stiles modulates his scent, his heartbeat, his rage. His eyes turn to Scott and a sneer pulls at his mouth. “You too, Scotty? Were you helping my father on a case?” 

Scott McCall is a terrible liar and everybody knows it.

His throat bobs, his eyes dart to Talia, and then to Chris, and then back to Stiles, who is considering punching his lights out.

Peter Hale is Talia’s enforcer. Laura Hale is set to inherit the mantle of Alpha. Chris Argent is the local hunter. They all have a reason to be here, to be involved, but Scott - Scott is just a beta, which means Scott is probably what pulled the Sheriff into this mess. Why else would a low ranking, bitten wolf be here? 

“I, uh. Yeah, I was. Y’know. Helping. There were animals involved, and I’m studying to be a vet, so, aha, he - he was going to ask Deaton, but he’s… out of town. So your dad ended up consulting me instead?”

Yes. Truly terrible.

“I see. So instead of using a qualified veterinary technician, my dad decided to ask a first year from BH’s community college, who likely hasn’t completed his introductory courses. That makes so much sense. Your logic is so very sound. Ten out of ten.”

Stiles skin itched. He was getting impatient.

He was getting angry.

Stiles turned his back on the small crowd, pushing into the Sheriff’s room without mind to the sputtering Scott. The doctor wasn’t there so he grabbed the chart from the end of the bed, scanning it quickly, adding it to what he already knew. 

His dad had no physical wounds. He had been found unconscious in the parking lot of the police station. He wouldn’t wake up. 

Something supernatural was going on here, and no amount of human medicine would help, period. 

Stiles laid the chart back down and pulled out his cellphone, typing out a quick text, before giving his dad’s hand a lingering squeeze and exiting the room.

Everyone was watching him with sharp eyes, except Scott who was scowling at the ground. It seemed unimpressive and childish on his twenty year old face.

“Argent,” Stiles says, zoning in on Chris. He’s never liked Talia, never appreciated all she let her children get away with and the obviousness of her pack. Chris, however, he had extensively researched. He was a hunter coming into Stiles’ town, but unlike the werewolves he was discreet. Smart. “What are you hunting?”

Chris’ brow creases at his phrasing, but he didn’t acknowledge it as anything odd. “I don’t know much about who did this. He was found unconscious in the parking lot at the police station, and the doctors are still running tests to determine the cause of his condition.”

“Tests that won’t find anything,” Stiles says back, as calmly as he can when it feels like he’s about to shake out of his skin. “Most shifters would have left some kind of outward marking, and there’s no sense of magic around him so I doubt it was a Druid or Wiccan. I’m assuming you all know, so tell me. What. Was. It.” 

“Stiles, you know—”

Talia interrupts Scott. Just as well, because Stiles feels like hitting something the longer they stall. “Just what do you know about all this, Stiles?”

“Your family has never been the most subtle, I figured out about the supernatural when I was nine. My dad, however, wasn’t wrapped up in any of this until I left for college — presumably, he only got involved in the past few months, since his deputy’s haven’t informed me that he suddenly started hanging around Argent, Deaton, or you Hale’s.”

Talia opened her mouth again, and Stiles held up a finger. “Stop. I don’t have time to deal with your insipid questions. Just tell me what we are dealing with. Now.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Stiles slanted his eyes to the hunter. 

“I’ve been hunting a rogue fae,” Argent said. “Several people in town have fallen comatose, including one of your father’s officers.”

“Fae. Of fucking course, it always has to be fae. What kind?” 

Argent looked at him blankly.

“Come on. Was it seelie or unseelie? An elemental? Changeling? Elf?" Argent's forehead creased. "For chrissakes, did it even originate in this country, or do I have to brush up on my Welsh?”

A throat cleared behind him, and Stiles spun to face the enforcer. “Sweetheart, Christopher has no clue what you’re talking about. I doubt the Argent bestiary takes time to classify the fae beyond methods for killing them.”

“But you don’t even kill them all the same way! It’s—” Stiles groaned in frustration, running a hand over his face. “Forget it. Did anybody get a good look at it? Scott?” 

Scott jolted, mouth snapping shut. “Uh, why do you think I—?”

“Because you’re here, so either you’ve seen it or you dragged my dad into this shitshow. Which one?” Scott shifted.

“Both,” Peter chimed in unhelpfully. Stiles considered wringing his neck, but he was the only one providing any actual information.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll deal with that later. Was it male or female?”

Scott didn’t say anything, glancing towards Talia again.

“Scott, answer my goddamn questions! This is my dad we’re talking about!”

Scott winced back at his decibel, jerking his eyes from Talia to the floor. He looked guilty, as well he should. “A-a girl.”

“Tall or short? What did her skin look like?”

“Uh, tall. Like, taller than you. She was grey, and her eyes—they were completely black.”

Stiles' magic spiked, sparking out of his fingers unhelpfully. Stiles clenched his hands shut and ignored it. “Were there any markings on her forehead?”

“Yeah, there were, like, purple swirls—”

Stiles cursed. Explicitly. 

Talia looked scandalized.

“How long has it been since dad? When was he found?” 

“Eleven hours ago. Parrish called you almost immediately.”

“At least one of the deputy’s are being a good boy,” Stiles murmured thoughtlessly, pacing now. “How long has she been waiting between victims?”

“There have been two a day for the last week.” Peter offered.

Stiles frowned, stilling. “That doesn’t make sense. She shouldn’t have such an appetite, unless…”

“Unless what?” Peter prodded.

“Unless she’s pregnant,” Stiles whispered. He sounded like he was about to faint, and looked little better. “Oh god, a pregnant Aatmanand. I’m surprised this town is still standing.”

He pulled out his phone, flipping through his contacts and trying to ignore the way his hand was trembling.

She picked up on the second ring.

“What is it, Stiles? I’m trying to study.”

“I need your help.”

The person on the other line’s breath hitched, before coming back, smooth as silk. “Are you calling in your favor, Spark?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come to you?”

Stiles glanced at the camera in the room and short circuited it with a spark of energy. Someone gasped. 

“Yes.”

In a flash of light, Adelaide appeared. She was still in her human form except for her gleaming quicksilver eyes, blonde hair tumbling down her back in unruly waves, wearing a monochromatic polka dot pajama set. She took in her audience briefly before turning to Stiles, eyebrow cocking.

“What will you have me do?”

“I have an Aatmanad problem.”

Adelaide took a step towards him, nails sharpening to a point. Her smile was all pointed teeth. “You know I hate those uptight prigs. Just point me in the direction, little Spark.” 

“You can’t kill her,” Stiles ground out, fingers clenching. Adelaide’s nostrils flared, eyes dilating with rage. Stiles held up a hand to stall her protests. “She’s pregnant.” 

“Excuse me? I will not meddle with the Expecting, even for you!” Adelaide hissed.

“I’m not asking you to,” Stiles said impatiently. “I can track her down without you. I just need you to release the knots she weaved about one of the victim’s souls, and drain her leftover magic into a rune.”

Adelaide’s expression twisted again, this time in amusement. “You think much of my abilities. My kind has never been known for this capability.”

“Your kind has never been known for a lot of things,” Stiles returned. That earned him a laugh, quick and dark.

“Very good, Spark. If I do you this favor, my debt is repaid.”

“Agreed.”

“Wait a minute.” Stiles turned to Talia, eyes narrowed. 

“We may not have a minute,” he said coolly. “They die at the twelve hour mark, don’t they? Otherwise Parrish wouldn’t have bothered to say his condition was life threatening. That’s how long it takes her to properly establish her hold and drain them.”

Talia frowned. “You may know something about the supernatural, but this is my land. You cannot summon creatures here without my permission.”

Stiles stared at her. Behind him, Adelaide laughed. 

“What a stupid little wolf,” she smiled. “I can kill her for free, Spark. Alpha’s have the most exquisite aftertaste.”

Peter stood, taking his place behind Talia’s left shoulder. His face was cleared of the previous smirk, eyes hard and calculating. 

“Go fulfill our deal. If I need to kill anybody, I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re no fun,” Adelaide sighed. “I need the rune first.”

Stiles gave her a look, but she just grinned back. Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing the Sheriff’s badge from his pocket to obscure the transportation spell from curious eyes. 

He held out his hand expectantly, and Adelaide grinned at him, snatching his wrist and gouging into his index finger with a claw. Somebody growled, low and threatening. 

Stiles didn’t wince, just cleared his throat until she dropped his appendage with a pout. 

He drew the anchor rune quickly, all too aware of the eyes in him, and gave her the badge. 

“Remember what I told you when we met,” he warned, when she turned to the room. Adelaide stiffened, glancing over her shoulder at him, and nodded. 

“I would not go against a Spark.”

Stiles turned back to the red eyed Talia. “I don’t fall under your laws,” he said, eyes half-lidded. “As your enforcer could tell you. And even if I did, that is my father. I would tear apart worlds to keep him safe.”

Talia frowned, glancing at her brother. “Peter?”

“He is a Spark, Talia. The Councils combined don’t have enough power to put a leash on his kind.”

“He can’t be,” Laura said, standing to meet her pack. “We would have noticed anything that powerful growing up here. He went to school with Cora, Mia and Scott.”

“‘He’ is right here,” Stiles said drolly. “And consequently doesn’t care what you think.”

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Nanami makes a comment about his boring repetitive life and Gojo tells him to "get a thickie for a quickie, it'll change your life" and that night he sees you at the bakery and knows in that moment that what Gojo said was only an understatement

"Get a thickie for a quickie" shut up that's literally the best line ever

And you're so right. Nanami wouldn't stand a chance if he saw you that same night, his mind going straight to what Gojo said earlier in the day. He'd see your tight clothes that hugged your curves and he would feel the urge to trail his fingers along the hills and valleys of your body. He'd immediately envision you in a different scenario, legs pushed towards your shoulders, your sweet round face twisted in pleasurable agony as he thrusted into you over and over, giving you everything he has, letting all those petty frustrations melt away through the feel of your soft skin against his and you'd be so perfect like that, a dessert begging to be gobbled up.

And suddenly the cashier gets his attention and says that they'll be closing in five minutes, and Nanami sees you taking your pastries out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly he realizes that he wants something more than baked goods.

[mostlylurkinbarelypostin]

Hot take: S3 Dustin sucked just as bad as S3 Mike and Lucas.

I’ve always found it kinda odd when people paint Dustin as some perfect friend in S3. The entire reason that Dustin was with Steve the whole season was because he was mad at all his friends for supposedly “ditching” him the night before at Weathertop. That’s why he goes to Steve instead of them after hearing the Russian transmission. He lies to Steve and says that all his friends ditched him, which, of course, made Steve feel bad for him. He then tells Steve “They’re gonna regret it though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory”.

Like come on. Tell me that boy wasn’t being SO petty. He was so confident that he was gonna be an “American hero” after hearing that Russian transmission and yet he wasn’t gonna share an ounce of that glory with his friends because it was late and they were probably tired of listening to him try and call Suzie for literal hours. That’s no exaggeration. When Mike and El leave the rest of the group on the hill, Dustin looks at his watch and says “curfew at 4?”. By the time Will, Max, and Lucas finally leave, it’s dark out and Will even says “it’s late”. They spent all afternoon up there.

So at that point, the group had surprised Dustin when he got home, helped him lug all the radio parts up the hill, built the radio, and then sat for hours while Dustin tried to contact Suzie… but apparently that wasn’t enough for him? Dustin still said that they ditched him, which like yes Mike and El did, but that was unfair to say about the others.

Robin actually says something interesting in the last episode that always stuck out to me. It’s when they’re driving to weathertop and she says “Suzie must be pretty special, huh? I mean if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?” Interesting choice of words considering we were explicitly shown how Dustin didn’t do all that by himself, and how his friends helped him both carry the parts to the top of the hill and assemble the thing. This makes the implication something like “Your friends must be really special, huh? If they helped you lug this thing all the way to the middle of nowhere and build it, just so you could talk to your girlfriend?”

They also weren’t even confident that Suzie even existed at that point, but they helped him anyways. They did it because they love him. So with all that being said, kinda fucked up of him to say what he did to Steve and paint them as terrible friends.

It’s even worse when you look at Will specifically. I’ve heard some people say that Dustin would have totally played DND with Will if he was with The Party the whole season instead of Steve. However, that’s simply not true. Will was the last to leave Dustin on the hill and before he left he asked if they could maybe play DND (“or something fun”) tomorrow. It was a direct invitation to hangout again tomorrow but all Dustin gave him back was a self pitying little “Yeah, maybe.”

He doesn’t hangout with Will the next day.

So Will spent all day doing what Dustin wanted to do, but just like with Mike and Lucas, he couldn’t get the same in return. Even with an invitation to hangout again tomorrow, Dustin still clumped Will in with his other friends who he says ditched him, which makes it kind of hypocritical that Dustin doesn’t show up for Will the next day.

So no, Dustin wouldn’t have played DND with Will if he was around cause he was actively and knowingly choosing not to do that by going to the mall to see Steve. He could have been playing DND with Will if he wanted to. The offer was on the table. He didn’t take it though. He wanted to be petty instead.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that Dustin was no better of a friend to Will in S3 than Lucas or Mike was. One could even argue that he was worse than them.

Obviously I have no real beef with these made-up children, but I just think some might have missed this part of the story cause Dustin is not the perfect angel character that some see him as 😅

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 21

Word Count: 4.3K Warnings: depictions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: oof, I need some more practice writing fight scenes

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She couldn’t believe her eyes. After weeks of no contact and near disappearance, Derek stood before (Y/N) as though nothing had happened.

Probably because he wasn’t there to see her, nor had he been expecting to find her in the boys’ locker room after the match.

Derek cleared his throat as he broke his gaze from (Y/N)’s, regaining his stoic composure. “We need to talk,” he stated firmly.

“All of us,” a man said as he appeared behind the alpha.

“Holy shit,” Scott murmured under his breath. “What the hell is this?”

(Y/N) and Isaac exchanged confused glances. They had never seen that man before, but it seemed they were the only ones baffled by the new character. There was something odd and dangerous about him that much they could ascertain. But there was more to him. There always was.

“You know,” Derek sighed. “I thought the same thing when I saw you talking to Gerard at the Sheriff’s station.”

“Okay, hold on. He threatened to kill my mom,” Scott defended himself. “And I had to get close to him. What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m gonna go with Scott on this one,” the mystery man agreed. “Have you seen his mom? She’s gorgeous.”

The devious line was met with a chorused “Shut up,” but it still didn’t explain who he was or what he was doing there with Derek.

“Hate to interrupt the amusing banter,” (Y/N) interjected, “but who is this guy?”

“He’s Peter,” Scott said. “Derek’s uncle. A little while back, he tried to kill us all, and then we set him on fire, and Derek slit his throat.”

The words fell heavy upon the girl. Scott had told her about their run-in with the man, but he’d left a particular detail out. She knew he had terrorized Scott and the group; she knew he had perished in the fight, but she didn’t know Derek had been the one to land the final blow. Yet, Peter was there. Alive and well, and seemingly unbothered by the fact that his nephew had murdered him.

“So, we got necromancers in Beacon Hills now?” (Y/N) blurted. “How is he alive?”

“Look, the short version is he knows how to stop Jackson and maybe how to save him.”

“Well, that’s very helpful,” Isaac muttered, “but Jackson’s dead.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Scott answered Derek, “Jackson’s dead. It just happened on the field.”

“If I can put in my two cents here, I’m pretty sure something else is going on,” (Y/N) declared. “Gerard wouldn’t let his prize possession just die. It makes no sense.”

“I’m afraid the girl is right,” Peter said. “If Jackson is dead, it’s because Gerard wanted it to happen.”

Before the conversation could continue, (Y/N)’s phone rang, startling everyone in the room. She quickly excused herself, noting her uncle’s name lighting up her screen. It had been weeks since he had reached out to her. The family was at odds. That much was true. And it was almost certain that Allison had poisoned the well against her. But that wasn’t a night to ignore calls or have petty arguments. They all had a common enemy, even if they didn’t want to work together to stop him.

“Uncle Chris?” she asked as soon as the call connected. “Is everything okay?”

“You need to get here now,” he whispered. “It’s your friends.”

“My friends? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t have much time, (Y/N). Erica, Boyd, and Stiles are here,” he said. “I need you to get them out of the basement while I distract dad. Your dad is already on his way here to help you, but we need you, too.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“Because I’m risking losing my daughter to Gerard by calling you,” Chris stated. “I need you to trust me, kid. Please. Your friends need you.”

“Alright, I’ll be there,” (Y/N) conceded.

“Hurry, (Y/N).”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” (Y/N) hurried back into the room as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket, turning the heads of the four people in the room. “I’ve, uh, gotta go.”

“Right now?” Isaac worried. “Where?”

“I’ve just gotta go, okay?” she said before her eyes fell on Scott. “Keep me updated. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy nodded. “Keep an eye out for your phone.”

“I will. Be careful, guys. We’re in for it tonight.”

“You be careful, too,” Scott reciprocated.

Her eyes fell on Derek before she inevitably turned to run to her bike. She couldn’t seem to shake the worried look in his eyes as they met, a concern she didn’t know he still had for her. The words he had thrown her way had cut deep, slicing into her chest deeply. He had known exactly what to say to push her away and keep her there, using her fears to cement their end. But something in his eyes that night told her a different story, one that wasn’t finished yet.

But (Y/N) didn’t have time to question things unsaid as she sped through the streets of Beacon Hills. There were more pressing issues than the complicated workings of the heart. Her friends were in danger, and she had to do everything in her power to get them out.

She parked her bike three houses over, making sure to kill her engine before she was in earshot. Her phone buzzed with a message from her uncle, telling her to sneak around the back directly into the basement. The door was already open when she got there, allowing her a swift entry into the home.

Upstairs, she could hear her uncle and her cousin talking, and she could barely recognize Allison. She sounded cold, aggressive, nothing like the cousin she knew and loved. But she couldn’t worry about Allison at the moment. Not when Gerard was about to cross her path.

(Y/N) ducked behind the first door she found, hoping that her grandfather didn’t turn his head at the last second and catch her. Yet the man’s retreating figure wasn’t what startled her. As she closed the pantry door in front of her, her back pressed against a person. Instinctively, she drew her elbow back, colliding with someone’s stomach.

“Dad?” She whispered as the man hunched over in pain. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Hiding from your grandfather,” he grumbled. “Didn’t think I’d be attacked in here.”

“Well, next time, don’t hide in a small, dark room,” she shrugged. “But Gerard’s gone. We can head to the basement now.”

“Great,” he groaned. “He couldn’t have left a minute earlier?”

“Let’s just go, dad.”

The duo sneaked toward the basement door, careful not to announce themselves to the other blood-hungry Argent. But nothing could prepare them for the sight before them. Stiles had been beaten unconscious in front of a tied-up Boyd and Erica. The wolves were sequestered by their arms to the ceiling, their mouths covered with tape to keep them from screaming. It was something out of a horror movie.

“You wake him up while I untie these guys,” Henry said. “We’ve gotta get them out quick.”

(Y/N) dropped to the ground, finding Stiles’ steady pulse before she attempted to shake him awake. Half of his face was scattered with scrapes and slowly forming bruises, accompanied by a busted and swollen lip. There was no reason for him to have been hurt, but she was sure Gerard wanted a good enough distraction to cloud Scott’s mind.

“Stiles,” she said for the fifth time. “You’ve gotta wake up.”

“Slap him,” Erica offered hoarsely. “He’s been down for a while.”

“Or use this water bottle,” her father offered. “Might work the same way.”

“I like that idea better.” (Y/N) took the bottle from Henry’s hand, spilling it all over the boy’s face. Seconds later, the boy spluttered awake, choking slightly on the water that went up his nose. “Hey, welcome back.”

“(Y/N),” he croaked out. “You’ve gotta get out of here. Your grandpa…”

“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “Can you walk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blubbered. “He mostly got my face.”

“Okay, listen to me. Take my bike to your house. Your dad’s worried sick,” she instructed as she handed him her keys. “Rest up and put some ice on your face. It’s gonna hurt for a while.”

“But I… I wanna help.”

“You can help by staying alive,” (Y/N) replied. “I’ll have Scott fill you in when he can. But right now, you’ve gotta go home. My bike is parked by the third house to the right.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

“Just be careful out there, okay?”

“Yeah.”

The boy disappeared out of the basement as her father finished cutting Boyd down. He ripped the tape off his mouth, quickly checking on Erica. Something (Y/N) quickly made a note of. She knew they had grown close the past few months, but she hadn’t noticed just how close. His hands remained on the small of Erica’s back as Henry led them quietly out of the house and to the backyard, There was definitely something there worth exploring. Just at a later time.

(Y/N) put a pin on her observation and kept an eye on Allison’s room, knowing sooner or later, she’d have to go to bed. An afternoon of hunting would leave anyone tired.

A minute later, the lights in her room turned off, and the backlights flashed twice. “Okay, guys,” she announced, turning to the wolves. “I’m gonna need you to cut through the woods and head to my house. You need time to recover, and we can come up with a plan for you after everything’s finished. There’s a spare key inside the bird bath in the backyard. Get in and lock yourselves in my room, and do not open the door for anyone but me, okay?”

“Wish we had taken that offer last week,” Boyd chuckled. “Thank you both. I hope one day we can repay this kindness.”

“Just stay alive, kid,” Henry smiled. “Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen. My wife was called out for the night, so you should be able to at least get some food before locking down for the night.”

“Thank you, Mr. Argent.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he smiled. “I’m just sorry that anyone in my family would do anything to you kids. No one deserves this.”

“Guys, you’ve gotta go,” (Y/N) interjected. “Go straight to the house. Don’t stop for anything or anyone.”

The Argents waited until they couldn’t see the teens through the trees before heading to the garage as Chris had instructed. There, he was already waiting in his van, ready for the next instructions.

“Where is Scott right now?” Chris asked as he sped down the street.

“Last he texted, he and Isaac were on their way to the hospital to check on Jackson,” (Y/N) answered, tentative with her words. Her uncle seemed to be on their side, but she could never be too sure. “Apparently, Jackson is not actually dead; he is forming a cocoon around him. Sounds to me like the Kanima is transforming.”

“I’ve gotta ask Chris,” Henry interjected, “you’ve been dad’s right hand all these years. What’s changed?”

“Allison,” he answered, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Gerard is twisting her mind just like he did to Kate. I don’t like what he’s doing to her.”

“If only someone had told you that the old man was a bit twisted,” the older Argent huffed. “We would have saved ourselves many headaches.”

“It really isn’t the time for ‘I told you so’s,” Chris sighed. “I know I should have listened to you, but I truly thought we were doing a good thing.”

“You were chasing innocent teenagers around just because they’re werewolves,” (Y/N) argued. “How is that a good thing?”

“I won’t say our view has been misguided for some time,” the man said. “But the hunters lost their way somewhere along the line, and I won’t let that happen to my daughter.” 

The only thing they had was trust, and they had to blindly walk into unknown waters if they wanted everything to end with the least amount of bloodshed. Henry and (Y/N) chose to trust Chris because, at that moment, he was the only one willing to help.

Isaac and Scott weren’t as easy to convince when Chris was the one to step out of the SUV first. They had no reason to believe that the man who had spent the last year with his eyes on them had suddenly had a change of heart. But once they had (Y/N)’s vote of confidence, they felt inclined to join him. In the end, he was right. The car was faster, and they only had so little time.

“I don’t like sitting next to Jackson,” (Y/N) muttered as the body bag wriggled next to her. She had changed spots with Scott to allow the boy to instruct Chris where they were going. “He keeps twitching.”

“Well, you’re the only one here we know his venom won’t work on,” Isaac whispered. “But for what is worth, I don’t think he’ll wake up any time soon.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Suddenly, a string of slime touched her arm, and all she could do was gag and wipe it on the car’s seat. “Any way we could go a bit faster?”

“No need,” Scott said. “We’re here.”

The car rolled to a stop somewhere in the warehouse district, but no Derek in sight, leaving everyone dumbfounded. But clearly, what he wanted was a grand entrance. He zoomed toward them at a supernatural speed, propelling himself with his arms and feet before coming to a stop with a front flip. If anyone asked (Y/N), she would have said there was no time for theatrics.

No one asked her.

“Why is he here?” Derek asked (Y/N), pointing at Chris. “Already turned sides?”

“He’s here for Jackson,” she spat at his unnecessary comment. “You should know a bit about people suddenly changing sides.”

“Let’s just get him inside,” he said. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe he didn’t care about her at all.  

Chris drove the SUV into the garage Derek instructed to, and the rest of the people were walking behind him. Anger and adrenaline bubbled in (Y/N)’s veins, aching for some kind of release. The first person who stood in her way would be getting a punch. It didn’t matter if they were on the same side or not.

“Where are they?” Scott asked once he and Isaac had pulled Jackson onto the floor.

“Who?”

“Peter and Lydia,” the boy replied.

Instead of answering, Derek simply walked toward the body bag, crouching to reveal the transforming boy even as Scott tried to stop him. If there was no Lydia, it could only mean that he was ready to go through his very first plan. And no one but Peter would allow him to do that.

“Think about it, Scott,” the alpha offered. “Gerard controls him now. He’s turned Jackson into his own personal guard dog. And he set all of this in motion so that Jackson could get even bigger and more powerful.”

“No,” Chris denied. “No, he wouldn’t do that.”

“If Jackson’s a dog, he’s turning rabid,” Henry agreed with his brother. “And our father would never let a rabid dog live.”

“Of course not,” Gerard’s voice rang out from beside them, making their heads snap in his direction. “Something that dangerous, that out of control… is better off dead.”

Gerard was lying through his teeth; (Y/N) could see that, and she couldn’t understand how no one else but Scott could.

Thinking it was safe, Derek set off to do what he had come for. He stuck his claws out and went to deliver a killing strike to the unconscious Kanime. But at that very moment, Jackson’s eyes flew open, and he sank his nails into the man’s chest, lifting him in the air as though he weighed nothing more than a doll before sending him flying across the room.

“Well done to the last, Scott,” Gerard smirked. “Like the concerned friend you are, you brought Jackson to Derek to save him. You just didn’t realize that you were also bringing Derek to me.”

Out of nowhere, an arrow came flying through the air faster than any human eye could perceive. But Scott was fast, and he ducked out of the way before it could pierce him. Isaac did not have that same luck. It sent him stumbling backward as it pierced through his chest, leaving him in pain as he failed to remove it.

(Y/N) was quick to wrap her arms around his shoulders, getting her friend out of the way before any more damage could be done to him. At the same time, Chris and Henry did not waste any time emptying their gun clips on Jackson, buying time for the werewolves to recover. Even if all they could get was a few seconds before the Kanima swiped their weapons from their hands.

“This is gonna hurt,” (Y/N) whispered to Isaac as she wrapped her hand around the arrow. “Don’t take it out on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he groaned. “Just do it.”

He let out a loud growl as she pulled with all of her strength, snagging his skin in the process and somehow her own leg. But all he needed was a couple of seconds for the pain to subside and the wound to close, allowing his wolf form to shine through. (Y/N), on the other hand, had to endure the sting running through her silently.

There was no time to check if she was okay as Isaac, Scott, and Derek all went against the fully transformed Kanime, each trying their best to deliver a debilitating blow. They slashed and bit, punched and kicked, but he was simply too strong.

As they approached him, Jackson threw each of them around, slinging them farther than the last. Derek was the last one to face him, ending with a set of claws lodged in his abdomen. (Y/N) noticed it had been a weakening hit and was moving to help him until, at her side, she heard the sound of skin being slashed.

As the beta stood to help his leader, Allison appeared in front of him, cutting away at the front of his body before digging her blades into his back. Derek could wait, (Y/N) thought. Even if she knew that Allison’s sights were set on the wounded alpha, the other Argent girl thought she needed a bit of her own medicine.

(Y/N) ran toward her before the dark-haired girl could think twice, landing a crunching jab to her cousin’s face. She fell to the ground for a second as she spat out the blood that pooled in her mouth, but her determination was stronger than the pain. Not caring that she was family, Allison dug one of her knives into her cousin’s leg and the other on her shoulder, rendering her useless to continue the fight. All she could see was Derek. All she wanted was revenge.

She was so close she could taste it. Derek’s life was only a few steps away.

But that wasn’t part of Gerard’s plan.

Suddenly, the Kanima appeared behind her, wrapping one hand around her wrist and the other around her neck.

The look of surprise and fear on her face would have been delicious to witness if pain and concern had not been running through (Y/N)’s body. But, even if she wanted to help her cousin, she couldn’t move more than a few steps at a time.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Gerard exclaimed as he appeared from the shadows.

“What’re you doing?” Allison worried. It was clear she had not expected her now beloved grandfather to betray her, not when he had been the one to mold her the way she was.

“He’s doing what he came here to do,” Scott answered.

“Then you know.” Gerard’s mouth stretched in an amused smile, knowing his secret couldn’t stay hidden around so many supernaturals. “It was the night outside the hospital, wasn’t it? When I threatened your mother. I knew I saw something in your eyes. You could smell it, couldn’t you?”

“He’s dying,” Isaac said as he helped (Y/N) to her feet.

“I am,” the older man confirmed. “I have been for a while. Unfortunately, science doesn’t have a cure for cancer yet. But the supernatural does.”

It didn’t take much for anyone to connect the dots of what Gerard was trying to do. They were simply surprised about the lengths he would go through to get what he wanted. Using his own granddaughter to twist Scott’s hand into doing his bidding was diabolical, but it was nothing short of what a desperate man would do for a chance at salvation.

“When it comes to survival,” Gerard exclaimed, “I’d kill my own sons!”

With no more instruction than his name, Scott did what he knew he had to do. With Derek wounded, he was able to drag him to his feet to face the older man. Even though he fought his grip, at that moment, the alpha was no match for Scott.

(Y/N) winced as Derek attempted to reason with Scott, knowing if Gerard turned into a wolf, he’d simply kill him afterward. The man wanted power and health the most, and there was nothing more powerful than an alpha.

“He knows the ultimate prize is Allison,” Gerard boasted. “Do this small task for me and they can be together. You are the only piece that doesn’t fit, Derek. At least not in their love story. And in case you haven’t learned yet, you should really stay away from the Argent girls. It never ends well for you, does it?”

His eyes snapped toward (Y/N) at those words, a pained expression painted across his irises. Scott also shot her a glance, his eyes waiting for confirmation as everyone around him told him to stop. And what the girl did surprised the alpha to enormous proportions.

She nodded.

Scott apologized under his breath and sunk his claws deeper into Derek’s neck, forcing his mouth to widen enough for Gerard to slip his arm between his canines. For that split second, he thought he had done it. He had pushed her far enough to betray him. After everything he’d done, maybe he deserved it.

But he heard her voice at such a low volume he thought he had imagined it. “Do it, Derek,” she muttered like a prayer. “Trust me.”

And he did. He trusted her with every fiber of his being.

Derek closed his mouth around the man’s arm, wincing as the metallic and bittersweet taste of his ill blood coated his tongue. He fell to the ground as Scott let him go, his eyes trained on (Y/N).

She gave him the faintest of smiles and nodded her head toward her grandfather. The show had only just begun. The red bite mark on Gerard’s arm soon enough started oozing a black liquid, surprising everyone in the room but two people.

“What?” Gerard questioned as he noticed his arm. “What is this? What did you do?”

“Everyone said Gerard always had a plan,” Scott said. “I had a plan, too. I just needed a little bit of help.”

(Y/N) limped forward with Isaac’s help, her father joining her other side, smiling at her grandfather as he questioned how Scott had been able to draw a fast one over him. She could feel blood running down her arm, leaving a trail wherever she walked. But blood and pain were the least of her worries. Wounds she could heal later, but that moment, oh, that moment needed to be savored. “You should have really asked around about me, grandpa,” the girl smirked. “Just one look into my student files, and you would have seen that I got in trouble when I was younger for being a pickpocket.”

“No, you got caught,” he croaked. “You aren’t good at it if you get caught.”

“I got caught once,” she said. “After that, I got a hell of a lot better. And I just want to say thank you so much for those mandatory family dinners. They were kind of a nuisance in the beginning but really came in handy there at the end.”

“Did you tell her, Scott?” Gerard spat at the boy. “Did you tell her I was sick?”

“I didn’t have to,” he said. “She was the one who came to me.”

“I could smell it on you from the moment I first saw you at the cemetery,” (Y/N) explained. “I thought the smell of death was coming from the place, but it was you. Then, I saw your little tin cup. What you were popping into your mouth was too big to be mints, and they looked too clinical to be vitamins. “I was at the sheriff station when you were talking to Scott, and I couldn’t believe that he would ever work with you,” she continued. “There had to be more, so I asked him. That’s when he told me his plan.”

“I already had the pills,” Scott added. “All I needed was a way to get them to you.”

With a mask of disbelief on his face, Gerard pulled his medicine from his pocket, crushing the blue and white pills in his hands. “Mountain ash!” he yelped before the rejection made him crumble to his knees. Black oozed out of every orifice, painting him in dark liquid before he crumbled to the ground, weaker than he had been at the start of the night.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Derek asked Scott, too ashamed to look (Y/N) in the eyes.

“Because you might be an alpha,” he said, “but you’re not mine. Definitely not (Y/N)’s.”

But all conversation was stopped when Gerard slithered on the ground. The kids may have bested his attempt at becoming a werewolf, but he would not go down without a fight. With a pained yell, he gave the Kanima his last order, “KILL THEM ALL!”

Next ->

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[virgo-mess]

Can you make a terry silver x fem reader smutshot based off the song "one of the girls" by the weeknd?

Thanks for the Request!

And I've finally got the first part of this request done! Aiming for two parts but it could end up being three depending on how the next part goes! This request ended up CK Terry adjacent I hope that's okay. I've also taken some creative liberties with this song, but I will do my best to incorporate most of the pre chorus in the next part or parts ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Broken Spirit: Chapter 1

TW: Stalking mostly, Terry being hotly deranged, its implied reader is also lowkey deranged though a match made in heaven essentially, and that's mostly it for this part. I know it's short, but I hope you enjoy!

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

Terry’s POV

A haze of purple hues, pulsating strobe lights, and wispy lines of thin gray smoke swirl around the crowded dance floor of the Hollywood bar, Warwick. The thrum of wavey synths filled Terry Silver’s ears while his incisive blue eyes surveyed the room in languid motions from his spot against the bar wall having just ventured from the classier, more adult lounge upstairs. He gazed at the drunk, strung-out LA clubbers with a certain degree of distained apathy. He hadn’t been inside a club or had a line of coke since the 80s, a rather contentious phase in the older billionaire’s life. To be quite honest he didn’t enjoy the hubs of the LA youth’s night life anymore now, in his graying age, then he did back then. Now a club like this only served as a bitter reminder of the days John Kreese raged through Terry’s lavish LA life like a tornado. Only to leave it in shambles just as suddenly, even all these years later the thought left a bitter lump forming in the back of his throat.

What’s passed has past, of course, as far as Terry was concerned John Kreese no longer existed. John was as much a ghost of lifetimes past as the cocaine fueled daze of Terry’s dim, but still flickering empires of addiction. Once an addict, always an addict is what they say after all. It only took Terry over a decade to replace that ghostly powder with something else, something corporeal, in all its lovely delight and there it was now. Terry couldn’t help the delighted somewhat bashful way his lips curled upwards when his eyes finally spotted you. There you stood, glittering in a hazy sea of strung-out blurs adorned in the black miniskirt and silver halter top. He’d been moving that outfit to the front of your cluttered closet during his routine visits to your empty condo while you sunbathed next to the complex’s pool in the most conservative one-piece swimsuit you had. Terry swiped all the tiny bikinis you owned on his first inconspicuous venture into your empty bedroom, the evidence of which now lay neatly folded in his dresser drawer. Normally he’d work his way up to petty thievery, but it was a necessary risk to take. How else could he ensure outside eyes didn’t linger on what he silently declared was his, the moment he’d laid eyes on it…

Terry met you exactly a year ago last week at some trendy art gala in Beverly Hills. He’d stumbled upon you, sitting on the terrace rail in a fetching cream gown almost as if you were contemplating flying off into the starry night sky like an enchanting swan. But in one hasty conversation Terry came to realize you were more akin to a black mare, a free spirit immune to his charm. A beautiful yet fully untamable party girl with a captivating aura of intrigue surrounding you. How you ended up at a sophisticated gala was beyond him in the last year he’d learn night clubs and house parties in the Hills was your prerogative at least when you weren’t holed up in your swanky corner office. You kept a surprising balance between work and play, a balance Terry wouldn’t quite achieve till his early to mid-forties and here you were mastering it just shy of thirty. That steely ambition was all it really took for Terry Silver to become infatuated with you. Though the conversation you gave him that evening was equal in measure to the passive niceties one would share with a cashier at the grocery store. Thus began a yearlong game of cat and mouse.

For months after the gala, you appeared uninterested in him despite all the “chance” run ins and “spontaneous” cocktail invites Terry meticulously sent your way. Terry tried to be “discreet” about his yearning for you at first, even as tedious as it was. That was way before he realized you were merely making a game out of the chase at his expense like the wild mare you were at heart. Terry caught on to your coy little game during one of his chance run ins with you on Rodeo Drive. Intrigued alarm bells were ringing his head when you suspiciously delighted him with trivial small talk over lunch for an entire afternoon, up until then you’d been incredibly frivolous. Terry considered it a win if he was fortunate enough to hold you up for an hour or so on your weekly trip to the grocery store. He had basically made it impossible for you to avoid him or sneak away anyway, he all but glued himself to your side as you rolled up and down routine aisles of produce. Never questioning why he’d strayed so far from Malibu to linger by your side amongst pints of Ben and Jerrys in west Hollywood. He had thought perhaps you hadn’t noticed but it was quite the contrary, you had noticed.

It struck him over lunch that day on Rodeo drive when you nonchalantly let it slip you and your friend Bea would be attending one of the four raves in LA that weekend. You had the gall to tack on a cute “You’re welcome to join us” with a coy smile etched on your plump lips and mischief swirling in your big eyes. Terry couldn’t help but smirk, taking in your thick fluttering lashes. He found your very first attempt at lying to him right through your pearly little teeth surprisingly endearing. He had already seen the phrase “Napa Valley with Bea” elegantly scribbled in pink ink on the calendar you had sitting on the desk in your home office.  A million thoughts raced through his mind at that very moment.

Part of him wanted to call you out on your lie right then and use it as an excuse to ��lure” you into the back his Ferrari, whisking you back to his Malibu mansion whether you wanted to or not was beyond the point. The image of you stripped bare and bound on your knees in front of his California king, begging for forgiveness and mercy among other things was quite tempting after all. But what would it get him in the end? He could fuck you hard and raw until you were incapable of forming coherent thoughts or words let alone, running away from him. You certainly wouldn’t be out roaming the droves of sordid LA raves you seemed most privy to into the early hours of the morning if he had. But breaking in a rouge mare was no easy feat. Regardless of whether you break a horse in hard or soft, it requires time, patience, good groundwork, and attention to detail. Luckily, Terry Silver was an expert at all of the above in his greying age…

So, after weighing his options he decided to take you up on your coy little game. He could play along and let his prized mare think she had the reigns for quite some time, and he had. Terry waited an entire day before coincidentally running into you and Bea on your oh so, “last minute “, Napa Valley getaway. Your aura was more aloof than usual that day, but your big eyes gave away your dumbfounded wonder when he strode into the hotel lobby like some aplomb show pony. And that dumbfounded, endearing sort of wonder swirled in those big eyes every night Terry managed to track down his unbroken little mare since. Surely tonight would be no different once you finally spotted him lingering coolly in the back of yet another lively LA bar for the hundredth time in the past few weeks. But, most unbeknownst to you, his prized untamed mare, tonight would be very different… It was finally time for, Terry Silver to finish breaking you in properly and he knew just how to do it. He’d been planning it meticulously for weeks now, the perfect corral for his free spirit was set, decked out quite lavishly and sat out on the Malibu beachfront. Now, all Terry had to do was get you there, which shouldn’t be too hard, he clocked your subtle jealous tendencies when you found him engaging Bea in polite albeit meaningless conversation at some bar in the Valley last week, when you’d finally found your way back from the bathroom. It was quick, a mere flicker in those big eyes of yours in the warm bar lighting but it was enough for Terry to perceive a degree of unspoken but requited loyalty on your part. That was all the proof he really needed that you were finally ready to let go of this frivolous game. To finally let him “ride you”, metaphorically speaking, whether you knew it consciously now or not. If you didn’t know it now, you’d know it by Friday evening Terry was sure.  After all, if there was one thing Terry Silver knew how to do without a doubt, it was throwing a party….

“They don’t know that I love you…

I broke you just to own you…”

Terry pushed himself off the wall, his lips still curled in a smug predatory smirk as he eyed you from afar. Your doe-like eyes looked bored while they surveyed your surroundings quite pointedly as Bea rambled in your ear about something trivial, most assuredly. If it weren’t for the hordes of ogling eyes from young vulture-like reprobates on you at present, Terry would be keen to watch you like this all night. Those doe eyes gave way the fact they’d been looking for him for quite a while in all their feigned innocence, silently begging for him to swoop in and save you from your untamed proclivities. Begging to be broken…

“You’ll get what you’re begging for soon enough, sweetheart…” Terry cooed under his breath, letting his legs carry him to your shimmering corner of the cluttered dance floor. He knew ignoring you in that little black skirt and silver halter top was going to be hard. Terry had never longed to touch anything the way he longed to touch you but ignoring his little prize was a necessary measure to ensure you’d show up at his mansion hot and ready. So, Terry straightened out his Tom Ford blazer and ran a large hand through his nearly silver hair coolly. His eyes bore into you intensely enough for you to finally meet his gaze across a sea of blurred gyrating bodies, everything around him always seemed to fade when you were around. Every high he had in his youth failed in comparison to the one his ethereal free spirit provided him, how he lived without you all these was beyond him.  But that would all be remedied come Friday, he’d make up for every ounce of lost time…

Terry closed in on you and Bea, feigning a polite smile, he watched as a dusty pink blush spread across your cheeks. Your plump lips fought the urge to curl into one of your coy little smiles as you eyed him up with dilated pupils. The rapid rise and fall of your ample breasts made you look like a dog in heat, Terry had to bite back an ominous chuckle at the sight of you before him.

“Good evening, fancy running into you here” Terry said charmingly, he finally peeled his steely blue eyes off your curvy form and let them settle on Bea with a coquettish aura. Bea was the type of girl he would’ve dated at the height of his coke heydays. She was the hallow type of pretty you’d find on the cover of Vouge with a personality to match or lack thereof, the type of girl he’d take to a charity gala and nothing. You on the other hand were quite pretty but in a petite cute, ingenue beauty type of way that most people wouldn’t find intimidating. You made up for that with your exuberant, quick witted, occasionally sarcastic charm.

“Look what the cat dragged in Bea, we’ve been standing in this corner of the dance floor all alone for almost two hours now, did you get lost?” You quipped coyly, Terry saw your signature coy smile twitch on your plump lips out of the corner of his eye and fought the urge to let his eyes stray from Bea. Bea looked up at him before looking at you almost anxiously as she realized he was talking to her, and only her. Terry let the wave of awkward silence stretch on for quite some time, his blue eyes bore into Bea expectantly. Silently urging her to put her dry personality to the side and play along with his little game long enough for him to slip her a meticulous invite.

“Oh, uh, Mr. Silver what brings you to Warwick…” Bea trailed awkwardly, Terry maintained his polite smile though internally he was rolling his eyes. He would trudge through tedious trivial small talk with your snooze box of a friend for you, and only you.

“Oh, you know just out on the town, they have a more intimate lounge just upstairs for us oldies. My friends packed it in early, so I thought I’d come down and see what all you young darlings were buzzing about.” Terry said in the same mildly coquettish tone. He allowed himself to glance at you long enough to catch the way you were adorably grinding your teeth as you glanced between him and Bea with a faux aura of aloofness. Terry fought a giddy smirk as he watched your ample breasts rising and falling faster than they had even a moment ago. You were silently seething already, and he hadn’t even mentioned the party yet.

“Don’t be silly Mr. Silver, you’re not that old, you blend in down here just fine” Bea said still looking incredibly awkward under his gaze. Her brown eyes seemed to be silently pleading with you to save her from whatever was brewing between the three of you right now. Your eyes bore into him, lit up by the hues of flickering lights as a new wave of intensified synths poured through the speakers overhead. If it weren’t for the obnoxious club atmosphere one might say the stare off the pair of you were having was pulled right out of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. An exasperated huff escaped you plump lips as you finally turned you seething gaze towards Bea. Terry let his polite smile falter just so, getting the urge his prized filly was gearing up to buck at any moment.

“Don’t be silly Bea, you don’t have to lie to Terrence just because he’s a billionaire. He is that old and he really doesn’t blend in with us young commoners in his Tom Ford blazer now, does he. You know, aside from the fact its 85 degrees outside (29 degrees Celsius 😉)” you said in a biting yet sickly-sweet kind of tone with some attempt at a sinister smirk on your face. And there it was, Terry chuckled under his breath at the pointed usage of his full name you’d be paying for that little jab at his greying age real soon…

“Y/N, that was rude…” Bea muttered to you softly, it was nearly impossible to hear over the blaring of supposed music above them. Terry waved his hand dismissively, pulling an emerald, green envelope with an elegant, gold wax seal out of his blazer pocket before you could respond. Your big eyes swirled with eager curiosity at the sight of the lone invitation clutched in his large hand, Terry did his best not to let such an endearing look dissuade him from the task on hand. He assured himself he could relish such a look in due time as he forced yet another polite smile; he settled his blue eyes on Bea once more.

“That’s quite alright, I’ll be heading back up to my rightful place on the lounge sofa Y/N just as soon as I give Bea this…” Terry said weaponizing the sickly-sweet biting tone you had just used on him with an almost sadistic look in his eyes. Your face fell astronomically though you did your best to play it off with your signature aloof expression, but your eyes appear slightly…glassy as they peered over at the emerald envelope. Honestly, the look in your eyes was enough to have the faintest twinge of guilt bubbling in the older man’s chest, a feeling the coke had numbed for quite some time. “It’ll all be better Friday, sweetheart you’ll see” Terry replayed the thought in his head like a mantra in the brief stretch of silence that lingered in the air.

“Um, what is it…” Bea trailed looking at the letter with a constrained look in her eyes. The twitch of Bea’s hand suggested she wanted to take it, but your sudden withdrawn expression made her hesitate. Terry considered the fact that maybe he was taking this a step too far but how else could he make sure you waltzed into his mansion Friday evening? One split second decision would allow him to both wrap up this tedious small talk foreplay and strike hard with no mercy.

“It’s an invitation to the party I’m hosting Friday evening, I’m willing to give you the details if you accompany me to my rightful place on the lounge sofa” Terry said in a tone that managed to be charming towards Bea and mocking towards you all at once. Bea’s dry expression for once looked dumbfounded, her brown eyes looked between the two of you, equal amounts conflicted. You, however, were gritting your teeth again with a fire a blaze in though big eyes of yours. Terry didn’t fight the urge to smirk, instead he turned and looped an arm with a still dumbfounded Bea and guided her a fair distance through the droves of strung-out blurs on the dance floor. He ignored Bea’s soft cries of protest though he felt her trying her hardest to unloop her stringy arm from his. “Strike first, Strike Hard, No Mercy” a new mantra swirls in Terry’s head and he forces himself to a stop in the middle of the cluttered club floor. He turns to meet doe eyed gaze with a giddy, sadistic smirk that leveled the one he bore in the dojo with the ghost of his lost friend John Kreese all those years ago…

“Oh, Y/N, you’re welcome to join us” the words float out of his mouth tauntingly. The blaze in your eyes dies down just enough for a smirk to curl onto your lips.

“…He knows how to get the best of me

I’m no fool for the world to see

Trade my whole life just to be….”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

[starcrossedreaders]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Leon Kennedy (RE)

After Hours

Late Night Ramen

I Really Want to Stay at Your House pt.1

Work Song pt.2

Home pt.3

Clumsy

Monumental Bliss

Pure

Cherry Waves

Petty Little Feelings

Self Care

Operation Six

Sweet

Heavenly

Eventually

Suit Jacket

Bubbles

Breathe

Happy Trail

Touch

The Hills

Glow

Concert Headcanons

Over stimulated Leon

Pregnancy Cravings

Azriel (ACOTAR)

Rootbeer Floats

Cold Kiss

One More Time

Grossly Dependent

Toge Inumaki (JJK)

Steamer Headcanons

[shuutingstar]

Do you make headcannons? And if so, can you make cellis headcannons?

You don't have to of course ☺

I do make head canons but I don’t really post them because my opinions are kind of conventional. But I’ll for sure give you some cellis head canons!!

- cecil and ellis sneak out of camp sometimes to cause havoc and/or prank unsuspecting teenagers.

- cecil and ellis have been given the shovel talk from the ares and hermes cabins respectively.

- cecil has vitiligo (I will die on this hill thank you)

- cecil’s love language is pulling pranks on the guy he likes.

- ellis thought cecil hated him because he was always getting pranked by him and thus started the bickering.

- when cecil went missing in the hidden oracle ellis stayed up countless nights looking for him until he went missing too.

- ellis and lou are great friends.

- they’re both very competitive

- cecil is an adrenaline junkie

- ellis got into botany after sherman decided he and miranda needed to bond (and then they became best friends)

- they’re both short kings

- sherman threw them in the lake after they got their shit together and finally confessed (the whole camp cheered).

- they were tied as “the longest slow burn” with chiara and damien and wear that title with pride

- cecil is an oblivious idiot and he missed SO MANY of ellis’s advances it’s not even funny anymore

- ellis believed for like a month or two that cecil was messing with him because there’s no way someone can be THAT oblivious

- they disagree with each other a lot, but it’s mostly on petty things like “this character is better than this one” and they make up after a day or two

- on date nights they go to the city and eat at a hole-in-the-wall diner and go to an arcade or cecil convinces ellis to take him to the mall and they commit thievery

- they’re both terrible singers but that doesn’t stop them from singing their hearts out on karaoke night

- ellis’s love language is physical touch (but he won’t admit that to anyone)

- he’s a cuddler btw

- ellis is ambidextrous

- these two have nightmares on the daily about going missing and hate being alone

Okaaaay I think I’m gonna stop there because I honestly could KEEP going 😭

[threshergm]

Halo: The Series - Talia Perez Backstory

Talia is a UNSC Marine Reservist. Her unit is H&S Company, 2nd Battalion, 25th Marines ("New Alexandria's Own"). Like the name suggests, the regiment is based out of the city itself (at FLEETCOM, no less), and is drawn from Marines who live in and around the New Alexandria area.

She's a Communications Marine - able to maintain, repair, and operate any radio or sat-link communications system in the UNSC Marine Corps inventory.

Talia's Abuelo is alive and named Raul. He was a Navy man, a reservist who served aboard big warships, and he retired at the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer.

When he and John are in the same room, they refer to each other as "Chief." Talia rolls her eyes at this, but can't help but smile.

Talia is third-generation Reacher; Raul Perez having emigrated from a failed colony named Hidalgo decades before, and the family having originated in Cuba on Earth.

Many refugees from Hidalgo settled in the same area of New Alexandria. The neighborhood became known as Santiago Circle. Spanish is still spoken on the streets, thus preserving the accent among the residents.

Talia's father Nestor was a Navy reservist as well, a WSO aboard a Longsword fighter. He instilled in Talia a love of literature, especially fantasy, and read to her every night he was home during her formative years. Their favorite was The Lord of the Rings.

He was killed in action against the Covenant during the Siege of the Atlas Moons. Talia was only ten years old.

Talia has a little tattoo of the Gull Crown of Gondor in black, with a tiny White Tree superimposed over it, on the inside of her wrist in his honor.

Talia's mother Elena always resented having her so young, feeling she'd been robbed of her youth, and skipped town after her father died. Talia was devastated, but her grandparents took her in.

This left Talia determined to prove that she was better than her mom by marrying young as well, but sticking around and being the mother she wanted for herself.

When Talia was 14, her mother returned a changed woman. Diagnosed with terminal Boren's Syndrome, she came home hoping to reconcile with her daughter before her death. Talia forgave her repentant mother, and cared for her for nearly a year before she passed away. It was an enormously healing experience.

Around the same time, Talia met Alex Shawcross, the love of her life. He was a poor kid from Manassas - his father was a firefighter who died in the line of duty - leaving him to care for his four siblings while his mother worked two jobs to make ends meet.

Talia first saw him waiting at the transit station with his four siblings one day after school - already a man at just 15 - and it was love at first sight.

Alex was cutting lunches so his siblings would have something to take home for dinner. Talia noticed this - and how skinny he was - and started bringing leftovers from home and leaving them in his locker so he'd have something to eat. When he caught her; she confessed her love for him, and they were inseparable after that.

They had an adorable chaste teenage romance. Meeting at her favorite tea shop before school, trips to bookshops were he would watch her go through the stacks thoughtfully, sneaking out to meet at the park halfway between their houses to sit on the swings together and talk. Staying after his baseball games to sit on the blanket she brought to pad the bleachers and stargaze.

The Marines were part opportunity, part desperation for Alex; while Talia saw service as a way to honor her father's memory and live up to the example her grandfather had set. They had their plan - serve a contract, go to school, get good jobs. Make enough to get Alex's family out of tenement housing in Manassas. Buy a little land outside the city, build a kiva in the hills. Alex would work in the city, Talia would work from home and raise their children.

Alex proposed to her the night before they shipped out on their first deployments - to opposite ends of the Outer Colonies. They made love for the first time on a blanket in center field on the ball diamond, under the stars and aurora of Reach.

Talia made it back from her first deployment without incident. Alex didn't. He died under a Covenant glassing beam on an unnamed rock, trying to evacuate an unregistered colony that had called for help. No remains were recovered. All she has left of him is the simple, cheap, but cherished brass ring he gave her the night she agreed to become his wife.

Talia's never been the same since Alex died. She carries the weight of him every day.