#see this is why I usually go with pit madness

[ghost-bxrd]

Just saw artwork of Jason doing the heads in a duffle bag thing and—-

I’m sorry but there’s just something so visceral and horrifying about a teenager sawing heads off people in a display for power.

Were they bad people? Yes. Did they deserve it? Probably. Did it send a message? Absolutely. Is it still horrifying? Heck yeah.

Just—- knowing Jason and his background, it’s just so heartrendingly tragic. I don’t even think he liked doing it, I’m just imagining him having to throw up afterwards before putting his helmet back on and playing tough crime lord again. The amount of self loathing he must feel whenever he thinks too hard about his actions. Falling asleep and seeing that—

Just— emotional repercussions, man. They’re real…

[evieelyzabethh]

"lacy"

⭒"i see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear"⭒ Arcane characters when jealous {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞ slight angst but they all have a happy ending, kissing, and the usual stuff (slightly pervy Jayce)

♞Vi♞

♞Making Vi jealous is a terrible game. She is about that action and absolutely loves to fight, nothing beats that flow of adrenaline as she chases someone down to bash their face in. I feel like she would also get a bit mean. Jealousy is a nasty thing, it bites, and she bites back harder. The pit it creates in her stomach tries to swallow her whole and sometimes she wants to bring you down with her

♞She doesn't understand why you would want or need the attention of anyone else when you have her. Chiefly at the beginning of your relationship, it would cause a rift, intention or not. Vi doesn't have a proper education, she’s constantly guilt ridden about her childhood and her sister, she's broke, and an absolute hot mess. She's already constantly questioning why you're with her in the first place and the last thing she needs is some random coming up and flirting with you and you even bothering to dignify their presence with a response.

♞She would go dead silent, brushing you off for what feels like weeks, stewing in her increasingly negative thoughts. She doesn't even think you're cheating, but she feels like it's only a moment of time before you realize there's something better out there. Always the one to make the wrong decision, she pushes you away for a bit. She's very short with you, brushing off your attempts to make peace, playing a mean game to see if you're gonna give up on her so she can use it against you. This is definitely her biggest red flag.

It's dark and rainy out, rain pelting at the ground, seeping and sliding into its cracks to rehydrate the already soft foundation. It was supposed to be a calm night out at the Last Drop involving a few drinks to get Vi out of her current terrible mood, bookended by an unstable walk home as you both barely support each other under your weight and constant fit of giggles. Instead, Vi was a few paces ahead of you, hands shoved into her pockets, her head down rather than putting her hood up to keep her head dry from the rain. Every time you approach her, she slightly leans away. At first you thought it was an accident, maybe she was trying to avoid stepping on a rock or into a puddle, but after the umpteenth time it happens, the message becomes clear. She's avoiding you. As argumentative as she is, you may even be worse. "What the fuck is your, problem?", you bark, the alcohol in your veins curving the embarrassment of passersby clearly tuning into the argument they think is about to break out. "You've said some choice things and have been awfully rude these past few days, and I really don't appreciate it, Violet." But she doesn't have it in her to make a big scene. It's definitely the alcohol, because she's genuinely scared that if she starts a screaming match with you right now, she'll cry. She turns to you swiftly, hair dripping wet, stray dye rolling down her cheeks and down the slope of her nose. You had just dyed it together a few days ago, back before she decided to be mad at you for who knows what reason. "Look at me", she grabs your chin before you even get the chance to break eye contact with her. Petty, pissed, and unable to jerk your face out of her grip without giving yourself whiplash, you close your eyes. This pisses her off even more. "What, you don't have any more charity work left in you? You can giggle with what-his-face for hours, but you can't even look at your girlfriend?" That gets you to open your eyes, at first confused as to what the hell she was talking about then glittering with amusement that causes her to immediately let go and continue her fast paced walk back home. She isn't far enough to escape your light voice, cheery with the realization that you finally broke her down and occupied with what you think is the silliest thing in the world. "Oh, my gods, you're jealous about that guy from last night! Vi, you're so ridiculous, I don't even remember his name." And she is still teeming with anger, but that anger will dissipate soon after that last admission. Once you sober up, you don't find it as funny, but she's at your every beck and call trying to convince you it won't happen again.

♞After a little while together, she feels more stable in the relationship. Trust, she still gets jealous, but it usually looks like a smirk on her face before she pulls you into a heated kiss in front of whoever is bothering her. She makes a real show of it too, prying open your mouth to slip her tongue inside, her hands squeezing your sides and hiking up your dress, knee pressed firmly in between your legs. She continues long after the person leaves, before shrugging and sarcastically wondering where they possibly could've gone off to. You often scold her for this. You've never been to jail, and you'd hate to go for a public indecency charge.

★Ekko★

★Ekko doesn't really get jealous, like out of everyone I think he would get the least jealous so most of this section would be about his complete lack of jealousy. He doesn't believe in getting into relationships without trust first and it's because of this confident trust that he wouldn't get jealous. If anything, he wouldn't be jealous as in feeling like your relationship was in danger but jealous when it comes to your time. Like he would get slightly pouty if he felt like you were spending too much time with your friends, and it was significantly cutting out of your time together. Even then, he wouldn't really act on it.

★Ekko would be a "I don't care what my girlfriend wears, I can fight" kinda guy. Especially because he likes picking out your outfits, he does it with the intention of showing off the goods. He likes looking at you, he knows the world likes looking at you, he sees it as doing a favor to society. He is the first to tell you your tits look scrumptious in that top.

★Same concept with you being approached or flirted with. If they have the gall to do it in his direct presence, he has a great many words to say about it, but if he's watching it go down, he likes to watch it happen. He'll get involved as soon as he gets the feeling you are uncomfortable, but for the most part he sits amused a few feet away laughing at the glances you give him as the conversation goes on.

★I feel like if anyone was to get jealous, it would be you. Ekko spends a lot of time with a lot of different people which leaves space for certain people to not know that he's spoken for. I think he would be less aware of this than you. You are always at the forefront of his mind; he cannot fathom giving his attention to other people. Especially because he talks about you so often, he makes it quite clear that he is not single and when people choose to ignore that fact, he doesn't notice.

Warm light flitters into your shared room through half open blinds that reveal the orange and yellow that the blue sky had faded into. Ekko had just gotten home eager to strip down into some old, tattered tee shirt and some boxer shirts. Instead, he was met with a slightly agitated girlfriend, and he notices this immediately. He gives you space at first, greeting you at the door and asking you how you were and listening to your expectedly short answer. He only lasts a few minutes of this passive aggression before sliding beside you on the couch, sliding his arm around you and pulling you in close. You reluctantly lean in, trying to ignore how inviting he smells and how warm he feels. "Baby," he draws out, scooping you completely into his arms to straddling your thighs over his waist, his large palms remaining on your upper thigh. He's trying to whittle down your resolve and it is working. "Don't you wanna tell me what's wrong?" You rolled your eyes. "I've already told you what's wrong." He thinks it's cute that you're jealous. He likes the way your arms cross over your puffed chest, and you furrow your brow to try and appear serious but all you look like to him is a rabbit about to thump its foot. "And I have already told you, I am completely yours." It's cheesy and he knows it and he amps it up by scattering kiss all over your face, even as you try to evade his touch. "I don't doubt that, it's just..." He derails your sentences as his kisses move lower and his hands get more adventurous, exploring your upper thigh and the curve of your ass and the small of your back from underneath your shirt. "Hey!", you snap, "I'm being serious, Ekko." He pauses, withdrawing his hands to the fat of your hips and, reluctantly, his lips from your neck. "I'm listening, baby." "I've told you I don't know how many times that I do not like that girl. She is all over you." His mouth opens to try and protest, but you cut him off. "I can literally smell her perfume on you." He gets slightly defensive at this. "You don't think I'm cheating on you, do you?" A look of hurt flashes across his eyes. "Of course, I don't, Ekko. I'm not questioning you; I'm questioning her. I know she knows we're together and she just doesn't care, and you don't shut it down. Why else do you think she kept you out this late? What were you two doing?" Nothing. A whole lot of nothing, actually. The girl you were referring to, Thalara, had been a topic of conversation before. She was new to the commune, which landed her the benefit of the doubt with you, but it's been months now and she still hasn't laid off. Ekko, ever trusting of his people, never assumed malintent, but you saw right through her. You cup his head in between your hands, looking him in his eyes to make sure that the message is clear. "I love you, and I'm not mad at you, but she's pissing me off. You need to make it very clear that she needs to leave you alone or I will send the message for you." And you meant that. He makes it very clear to her the next day that he has absolutely no interest and comes back to you the next day beaming in accomplishment.

★Jealous you turns him on so incredibly much. Whatever you say goes, he is not one to turn you down when you're in a jealous mood.

❂Jayce❂

❂I feel like you would both get jealous, but he would get far more jealous than you do. While he is far from someone who would tell you to change what you're wearing, he does try and tag along with you when you're wearing something low cut. Like babe, what do you mean you don't want him to join girls night? Are you sure you're not cold?? You must be cold; your ass is hanging out, why won't you take his jacket?? Please take his jacket!!! Because of this he walks behind you, making it much harder for those undeserving to stare at you like he does.

❂While he loves showing you off at fancy events, ain't shit funny if you look too good. If you're lucky enough to make it out the house on time (he insists on helping you zip up but then gets confused which way zippers go), being there is a struggle. He likes staring at you and did not have the forethought to think other people would enjoy staring at you too. Let someone make a comment too, he is glued to your hip for the rest of the night.

He waits anxiously for the stupid gala to be over. Had he been more of a drinker, he would've been content to have a few glasses of the fancy champagne they brought around, but he hates the ethanol aftertaste it leaves behind and that is the last thing he needed after already feeling nauseous. He was trying so hard for you, he knew he had to give you your space, and he knew you were excited to go out to his Hextech showcase to show your support. He's being bitter and he hates it, he hates biting his tongue while watching you giggle with a councilman and the fact that he feels like a petulant child watching some other kid play with his toy He's been getting better with his jealousy, honest! That's why he's self-aware enough to know that his urge to go after you, sling you over his shoulder, and carry you home himself is childsh and silly and that you would chastise him over it as he looked at you like a kicked puppy. Gods, this was stupid. But he puts a smile on his face anyway, making his way over to you from the balcony he was just standing on, and sliding his hand on your shoulder. You look over at him, startled for a second, but relax when you see his amber eyes and slightly gapped smile. And then you say the magic words. "Oh, I was just about to go looking for you. Are you ready to go?" He cannot say yes fast enough. After he has you all to himself, he is insatiable, kissing you deeply as soon as you step foot in the carriage taking you home, losing balance and nearly sending you both toppling onto the floor of the moving vehicle. The seats are awkward and not long enough to properly lay you down, but he's too desperate to care about the discomfort, his hand cradling the back of your neck to make sure you are as comfortable as you can be. He's ruthless, the force of his kisses knocking the breath out of you and you can never catch up. You're almost dizzy, his desperate whispers nearly going through one ear and out the other. "You love me, right? Me and only me? You don't need anyone else.", and he's trying to find your zipper again, but his hands are clumsy and cold, and it only serves to arch your back further into him, not that he's complaining. When you do come to your senses, you giggle, running your nails through his hair as he looks up at you with wide eyes. "How long have you been holding that in." He looks at you sheepishly, fighting the urge to hide his embarrassment in the crook of your neck. "All night." You shake your head at his ridiculousness, pulling him in for a slower kiss, properly savoring the moment, before pulled away to peck his nose. "You are the only one for me, handsome, I don't know how many times I have to say it." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "A few more times wouldn't hurt." You roll your eyes and ask if he wants a collar, and he does not look as adverse as you expected.

❂He is so incredibly unhinged when it comes to jealousy. He doesn't act on it, but his mind goes to wild places. In a modern AU, if you dare not reply to a text in ten minutes he's asking, "What position he got you in?" Even worse, he knows he's being senseless, it's his way of asking for reassurance in a joking way. It's so absurd, you don't take him seriously which slightly frustrates him because he wants you to reaffirm him on what he already knows.

❂He gets really pouty when jealous too. He'll usually try and thrust himself into his work to occupy his mind and get it back to a rational place. Viktor calls you immediately because he ends up talking to him about it and he thinks the entire ordeal is unreasonable and doesn't have time to be asked at the ass crack of dawn "I know she loves me, but what if (insert insane scenario here)." He is a chronic overthinker and sometimes you just have to shut his brain off.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is another one who doesn't get super jealous, but when he does, it usually stems from insecurities surrounding his leg. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes, especially as his condition gets worse, he gets frustrated that he can't do the things as easy as he used to be able to. However, he is entirely too proud to admit it or act on it. You probably wouldn't even notice, to be honest, and he wouldn't want you to.

☽I think he would absolutely throw himself into work when jealous. He's already at the lab damn near day and night, but unlike usual when he'll try for conversation here and there and be more lively, he's throwing himself into it out of necessity. It is one of his pride and joys, when his ego takes a hit, work is his refuge. This, of course, hardly ever works because he does not get good work done when it's being forced. He'll usually end up staring at the photo he keeps of you at your desk and feel lonely.

☽He'll invite you around to his lab more, though he is uncharacteristically stiff and rigid. He's trying too hard to focus but he just can't. His leg is tapping furiously beneath the table, he's biting the inside of his cheek, his hand is running through his hair every couple minutes. Things just aren't computing like how he wants them to and he hates it. His pride is a double-edged sword here, jealously is Jayce's thing. He thinks he is leagues above it and he gets frustrated with himself when he feels that green sickness in his heart.

☽He would be the type to address it head on. Once again, he's very analytical. He will tell you what exactly got him upset, why exactly it upset him, be very clear that he isn't blaming or upset at you, and silently hope you go overboard with affection for the next few weeks for the sake of his ego. After he does, he likes to ignore it even happened. Him? Jealous? You must have him confused with another ridiculously attractive, impaired, Czech-accented man. Jealous isn't even in his very extensive vocabulary, he has no idea when or why you dreamed of this completely fictitious scenario. He wouldn't try and gaslight you that it never happened, but he is petty enough to get selective hearing when it comes to mentions of it

For the first time since...ever, Viktor is home before the sun goes down. To say it catches you off guard is an understatement, so unused to the doorknob jiggling before the wee hours of the morning, you had a knife in your hand before you heard his keys in the door. You had been making dinner, and the smell alone makes his heart skip a beat. He hardly ever gets a warm dinner and for a minute, he deeply regrets being in his lab all the time. He slides off his shoes and loosens his tie as he pads over to you in the kitchen, wrapping one hand around your waist and the other gripping the counter for support. "You're home early.", you chirp, turning around to face him to peck his lips. "I was just making dinner, you want a taste?" Though he would never say no to that, you already have the spoon to his lips with a hand under to catch anything that might fall before he can even answer. He indulges, of course, and as the warm liquid soothes his throat, he hates that lab even more. Soup is one thing; but warm soup is to die for. "It's delicious, tchotchke." You smile as you turn back around. "Any reason you're home so early." He looks back the new ceiling fan you called Jayce over to put up and lets out a sardonic chuckle. He understands why you called him; he'd need to get on a ladder to put it up and have to abandon his cane for however long it took to hold the thing up and take care of the wiring. He wouldn't be able to balance himself and if he came down, the fan was coming down with him, probably on top of him. And yet, he still would've rather done it himself than you call Jayce to do it. "Yes, but it's admittedly a very stupid reason." You cannot fathom this. You remove the pot from the stove and onto a folded cloth on your counter and desert the stove. "Did something happen?" And he can't handle the look of concern on your face over something he knows to be trivial. "It's just that..." when he realizes he can't put it off any longer, he sighs. "I got jealous of Jayce." Had it not been for the serious look on your face, you would've burst into laughter. Those words had never fallen out of his mouth in that order before. "I know it's absurd, but it started when he put the fan up and it bothered me more than it should. I don't like that there are some things I can't do around the house, and it's been this way my whole life, but it's different with him. He's just always "the guy" and I hate the thought of him being "the guy" to you. It's irrational and a leap in logic, I know, but I hate it." And even better than pity, you just smile at him. In a way it's better that you want to laugh at him, he wants to laugh at him too. The thought of Jayce replacing him is maybe even more of an impossibility for you than it is for him. "So, next time I should just call a guy." He chuckles. "Yes, please."

☼Mel☼

☼I feel like she would be very calm about her jealousy, but also have a slight inclination to anger, albeit a silent one. She doesn't fear the betrayal of a potential cheating, but rather the embarrassment. If she were to see you get too chummy with someone, rather than approach you, she would watch from afar to see what you'd do. This is also a big reason why she usually doesn't take action herself; you never disappoint her when it comes to letting people know you're taken.

☼She is a bit clingier when jealous, but more than that she would insist on doing more couple things together. If she feels it is not known enough, she will make it known that the two of you are together. This often means gifts like expensive jewelry that only she could afford you, a new outfit that conveniently matches with one of hers, or even just letting you borrow bags or earrings of hers. It's her way of scenting you almost. She's too classy to try and "stake her claim" in a more showy way, so she does it in a more inconspicuous way.

Waking up alone wasn't something you were completely unused to. Mel was a very busy woman, and you were content with the nights you had together and rare mornings. These mornings were made extra bearable when you woke to a box on your nightstand, wrapped in a silk ribbon with a note in your girlfriend's handwriting slipped under the bow. 'From my heart, to my darling', it read, a lipstick mark beneath where she had signed her name with an elegant flick of her wrist. Perhaps just as eager to be opened as you were to open it, the ribbon fell loose as you gently picked up the box. It was too small to be a dress and too large to be a ring but large enough to contain maybe a fancy watch or a necklace, but judging by her unusually clingy demeanor last night, you had a feeling you could pretty accurately guess what was inside the ornate jewelry box. Unsurprisingly, within it lay a gold and pearl necklace, pearls that must’ve been rare due to their black hue rather than their usually pale pearlescent coloring.  The chain felt light in your hand, the heaviest part sinking into your palm as you stared at. Your first initial and an M. No matter which way it was taken, the M to be her first name or her last, the possessive message was clear, not that you minded. Mels smile was bright when she saw you for the first time that day, and even brighter when she saw what decorated your neck. She excused herself from the councilmember she was talking to before walking over to you, practically gliding on air. She takes your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist then your knuckles then pulls you by your hand into her. "I take it you're enjoying your gift?" Your hand still in hers, she spins you, taking you in at all angles for the first time that day. "It's beautiful, but I can't help but wonder what inspired the decision." She knows you know exactly how she works, and she doesn't mind admitting she's jealous. "Am I wrong to give my pretty girl a gift?", she says, mocking the comment you received last night. She rolls her eyes and her face gives away her impending rant. "Am I wrong to give a pretty girl a compliment? I still can't believe he said that to you last night. He only did it to piss me off, you know." You bite your lip to hide your laughter, but it eventually slips from you. "I hope I'm more entertaining than Salo was last night." She can't even feign annoyance, not with the sound of your laughter filling her ears and her name around your neck. She laughs herself, with how much the two of you talk shit about the man, you'd think anything he did could never affect her, but she had been biting her tongue since last night. "Shall I list to you all the ways you're better than Salo?" She waves the idea off nonchalantly. "No, my darling, I should hope I never need an ego boost that desperately."

☼You would definitely get jealous far more often than she does. She's gorgeous, smart, well spoken, rich and affluent, and perfection embodied in a person, there is much to be jealous of. Especially as someone who is on the council where part of the job is being great at sweet talk, I feel like you would get your feelings hurt sometimes. You catch more flies with honey, and she may be the sweetest honey there is. She does tease you for your jealousy though, she finds it utterly adorable.

☼She wouldn't allow you to be jealous long. She is very good at reading you and your emotions, she seems to always know exactly how you're feeling. You couldn't even hide it from her if you tried, she'll always find a way to corner you and help you talk your feelings through. She tries very hard to make sure that you can never question who she loves the most.  

[littledovesnow]

a growing family

request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus

You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.

Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.

Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.

She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.

You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”

Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”

“I’m late.”

It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”

Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”

Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”

“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”

Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”

It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.

Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”

Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”

You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”

-----

Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.

He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.

Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.

“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.

He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.

“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.

Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”

“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.

Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.

“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”

Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”

Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”

Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”

You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”

-----

It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.

Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.

An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”

Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”

Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.

“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”

Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”

Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.

Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”

You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”

Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”

Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”

You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.

“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”

“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.

Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”

Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.

You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.

-----

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.

“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.

The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”

“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.

“Coryo.”

Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”

You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”

There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”

Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”

Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”

Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”

You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”

You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”

-----

Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.

Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.

“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.

“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”

Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.

You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.

“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.

Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”

“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”

-----

a/n: send requests here

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Happy Tuesday🐵.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Marta still insists she isn’t responsible for ordering the toner...” you shrug and sigh. You shake your head at the petty office argument. 

Before you can laugh, the guard calls time up. You blink, brought back to the present. Your account of the printer tirade seems even more silly now. 

Your eyes come into focus and you find Steve’s entirely on you. He might not admit it, but you suspect he is lonely. In some way. He’s all but confirmed that he doesn’t get any other visitors. It makes you think of Vaughn. How he must look forward to those days. They might not be the same but they both drew the same lot. 

You go to get up as the guard signals with a tap on his watch. 

“Wait,” he pulls away defiantly, keeping hold of the receiver. You keep yours by your ear. “Will you come back, sweetheart?” 

Your lips part. You’re surprised by the question. The man knows how to keep people off-balance. “What?” 

“You already gotta come all the way here for your brother so why not? I mean, if you really wanna thank me for saving his neck. I’m sure he’ll find a dozen other ways to get himself in a bind,” he shrugs. 

“Rogers,” the guard warns. 

You weigh the hint of a threat in his tone. You don’t think he’s serious but he’ll never say aloud the truth. He’s all by himself in there, even if he moves the rest of them like chess pieces. The urgency of the guard makes you sputter. 

“Sure, uh okay, I’ll try,” you say. 

“Alright,” he surrenders, a glimmer of disappointment, as if he expected more. “See ya next time, then.” 

He hangs up and the guard unhooks his cuffs from the loop. He stands, dwarfing his keeper easily, and follows him away. You’re grateful for the barrier for the first time. 

You get up and you’re led out yourself. What did you just do? You don’t have to see him again. Now you do. You made a promise and a man like that won’t take kindly to breaking it. Shoot. Why did you do this? He’s a criminal and you still have no idea what kind. 

Your heart clenches as you get to the counter and fill out your form. 

“If you really wanna thank me...” his words echo. 

You ask for another form. You don’t want to take the chance that you made things worse for Vaughn. The novelty will wear off. He’ll lose interest and hopefully, he also forgets about your brother. 

You sign the forms and pass them over. It’s a different guard. They don’t react as they read it over. They merely dismiss you as the pit deepens in your stomach. 

⛓️‍💥

You don’t tell Vaughn. If you do, he might be mad. Not just at you, but Steve. If he lashes out at someone like that, you might never see him again. That’s your worst fear. 

The thing about your brother is he might know exactly how things go, what to expect, but it doesn’t keep him from messing up. Even if Steve is watching him back, it wouldn’t stop him from feeling slighted and turning around and breaking his own spine.  

You can only imagine his reaction to your chatting with his fellow inmates. Vaughn only listens to what fits his own narrative. He wouldn’t hear you out, he’d just go off and get himself hurt. 

You attend your usual sibling commiseration. He’s looking better. You’re mostly quiet. You wait for any mention of Steve. Dread it even. He only tells you how the other guys are scared of him. You’re not so sure it’s him making them stay away. 

You say your usual good byes and love yous and you stay put. You wait. Steve appears sooner than the last time. He takes his seat and lifts the receiver. He’s just as stony as before. 

The glimmer in his eye has you reaching for the phone on your side. You gulp. You don’t know anything about him. Only the one thing that should’ve kept you away. He’s a criminal. 

“Hey,” you eke out. 

“Sweetheart,” he greets evenly. 

“It’s... your turn." You state shakily. He lifts a brow and he chuckles. You clear your throat. “I told you about me, now I wanna know about you.” 

“Oh?” He tweaks his head. 

“Look, I’m not going to keep talking to you if--” 

“You’re threatening me?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I just--” 

He laughs again, “oh, sweetheart, you’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you? You miss me already?” 

You frown, “don’t call me that. I didn’t come to be laughed at.” 

“Uh huh, so why did you come?” 

You don’t know how to answer. He knows. He wants to hear you say it. 

“We both know why. That brother of yours is reckless. I can barely keep him on a leash.” He looks you up and down, “does he know you’re here, huh? I don’t think so. Think if he did, he’s be at my cell door getting his neck broke.” 

“Hey, don’t--” 

“No, you don’t, sweetheart. Don’t tell me what to do. And calm down.” He waves away your distress. He glances over towards the guard then back to you. “You’re funny when you get all worked up but don’t go ruining this. For baby brother’s sake and yours.” 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you murmur softly. “Please.” 

He snickers and rests a hand on the desk, the other on the receiver. He pushes and leans back, his chest puffing out. “Fine, what do you wanna know? I have mess at eight with all the other bums in here and I do about two hundred pushups after dinner.” 

You rub your lips together. His gaze follows the movement. “How long have you been here?” You stare at him, gripping the phone for courage. 

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his lip and shifts the receiver in his hand. He crosses his other arm over his chest, gripping his large bicep. 

“Six years.” 

“How long do you have left?” You follow-up quickly. 

“Ah, is that it? You’re anxious to get rid of all this,” he eyes the glass. “That’s sweet--” 

“I just want to know,” you blurt out. Six years isn’t too much but fifteen or more says it all. 

“A long time. The rest of my life unless the board has a change of heart.” 

You watch him, waiting. For a crack, for a tell. He didn’t flinch at all as he tells you he’s stuck there forever. Whatever he did must be bad. 

“For what?” You breath, running your fingers up and down your throat. He watches the nervous gesture before he meets your eye.  

He prickles and sets his shoulders, “You really wanna know? You gotta do something for me first.” 

You blink, “just tell me.” 

“No, that’s not how it works. You do me a favour and I’ll tell you,” he retorts. 

“What? What could I possibly do for you?” 

“You add your number to my roll on your way out.” 

“My... number?” You echo. 

“Lot of time between visits. I get antsy. When I get antsy, I do stupid things. Start fights... so?” He leans forward. He knows he’s won. 

“Fine, you tell me and I’ll do it.” 

“Deal,” he points at you, his elbow on the table. “And don’t test me. I don’t like people who go back on their word. Not even sweet things like you.” 

“I said yes,” you sniff. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he smirks. “But what they say I did...” he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “murder. Court’s a joke, you know? Lawyers only steal your money. They’ll make more on the appeal. So they let me go down when the other guys say I killed my wife. The interviews for TV pay them better.” He snorts. “Far be it from me to go against the verdict. Especially in here. Better to let people thing I’m a stone-cold killer.” 

You chew on the answer, mulling it with his expression. You can’t tell if he’s lying. Does it matter? He’s still in this place and according to Vaughn, dangerous regardless. If he wasn’t before, he is now. 

“You believe me?” He asks. You don’t answer. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter either way. We got lots of time for you to figure it out.” 

A frown tugs at your lips, “yeah...” you rub your neck and once more he stares at the movement of your hand. He’s so stoic, you can’t read whether he’s bored or annoyed. 

“I’ve banked lots of phone time,” he swirls his fingers on the desk. “I look forward to our little chats. Be a nice after dinner treat, won’t it?” 

You bit down and twist the phone cord, “why do you want to talk to me?” 

“I’ve been in here six years with stinky men. A nice little bird like you singing to me, that’s something to wake up for. It'll make the time pass,” he says. “See, I’m being honest.” 

You nod and inhale slowly. You drag your hand off the desk and wipe your sweaty palm on your jeans. You’re too far in now. There’s not going back. 

⛓️‍💥

“...so this guy tells me it’s his turn at the bench but I just got on. He didn’t appreciate me testing his strength when I dropped the weight on his jaw,” Steve laughs as you chop celery, his voice crackling from the speaker of your phone. The prison lines are fuzzy at times. He stops and silence rises. You almost think the call cut off. “Why’re you so quiet, sweetheart?” 

“I’m just making dinner,” you answer. “Listening.” 

You don’t like his stories. They’re always violent and you can’t always tell when he’s telling the truth or just trying to scare you. Vaughn said he has other guys do his dirty work. 

“Oh? What are we having?” Steve asks. 

“Stuffed chicken breast with rice,” you reply as you pour the celery off the cutting board. 

“What’s wrong?” He intones. 

“Nothing,” you lie.” 

“What? You don’t seem impressed.” 

“Well, Steve, I’m not a very violent person. I guess I don’t see much to laugh at.” 

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was a bad boy.” 

“Steve,” you say. “I just... I don’t like to hear that stuff.” 

“Oh, you worried about me? I can take care of myself.” 

“It’s just not very nice,” you mutter. 

“Not nice? That’s how the yard works. I can’t help that. I don’t like it either but you gotta do that stuff. To survive.” He explains, “but Vaughn, well, we both know he’s no good with change. That’s why he needs someone like me--” 

“I asked you nicely not to mention him,” you say. “How much time do you have left?” 

“Couple minutes,” he drones. “Didn’t mean to get you worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up. I just... I worry.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart. Look, I’ve been here a while. Don’t you worry about me or the baby boy,” he drawls; you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Mm,” you hum. 

He mimics the noise, “you’re not amused? Sweetheart, tell me what you want to hear. How can I make you happy?” 

You cluck, “it’s just... I don’t like it... when you put on a front like that. I’m not an inmate. I... I’d rather you just be honest. I never liked men who can only talk about violence.” 

“Oh, and what kinda man do you like?” 

You look at the phone, “I don’t have a type. Not that it matters.” 

“I can be your type,” he purrs. 

You pause as you reach into the bag of bread. You’re taken aback by his statement. You shake your head. 

“Steve, I should get this in the oven.” 

“Right, time’s running out,” he exhales. “Well, good night sweetheart.” 

“Good night, Steve,” you say pointedly and reach to hang up with your knuckle. 

You sigh and tear up the bread. You can’t believe how far this has gone. He calls every night and you dread it every night. No matter what you do, he doesn’t let up. When you’re quiet, he makes you speak. When you’re curt, he makes you gentle. He demands it and you have no way to deny him. 

It’s hard at times to stomach. He can be patronizing when he wants to. When you don’t perform for him. He always mentions your brother at exactly the right time. To remind you of his power over you or to remind you of your own guilt for lying to your own family. 

Well, he has a whole life sentence ahead of him. He has to get bored eventually. Besides, Vaughn will be out in another two years on good behaviour. 

[fangirl-writes]

It's a wolf thing

Jacob Black x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, violence, canon-level things

Request: Jacob Black x fem! reader, where reader is dating Jacob, and he is getting more distant towards reader. Bella and Jacob are getting really close so she thinks he is cheating on her with Bella. Reader goes to school, and confronts Bella about it, and Bella tells Jacob. Jacob then yells at reader and reader asks him "Do you still love me?" and then Jacob breaks down and cries, and tells her that he became a shapeshifter. You can finish the rest!

Notes: Jakey really needed a girl to get his mind off Bella; shame that the author decided that girl should be an infant. Anyway-

PS: I went a little bit of a different route than the request, but only slightly. The main beats are still there. Hope you like!

You weren't worried before.

You'd been dating Jacob for a while before Bella moved back to town, and really, what did you have to worry about?

Bella was nice, a bit awkward, sure, but nice. She didn't seem interested in Jacob and, since they didn't go to the same school, they didn't interact with much.

She was with Edward, you were with Jacob, that was that.

Until.

That dreaded word “until.”

Until Edward and the other Cullens left town.

Until she came hauling a motorbike in the back of her truck.

Until Jacob started spending all his free time with her, instead of you.

"Hey," you said, walking into the garage where Jake was crouched by the motorbike and Bella was sat next to him.

Your hands were in the pockets of your jacket, feeling like you'd just interrupted something, even though the guy in the room was your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe," Jacob replied, grinning at you.

"Hey," Bella replied in her usual soft way.

"Bike almost done?" you asked.

"Yeah, I think she's about ready for a test drive," Jacob replied, standing up and wiping his hands a rag. "What do you say, Bella? Ready to give it a go?"

"Sure," she said with a non-commital shurg. "Let's load em up."

Jacob walked over to you, smiling and kissed your temple. "You wanna ride along?"

"If that's okay with Bella."

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?"

You shrugged, trying to sweep the pit in the middle of your stomach under the rug.

"Bella, it's okay if Y/N rides along, right?" Jacob asked, walking back over to help her wheel the bikes out to her truck.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Bella replied, smiling a little at you.

Jacob gave you a look that clearly said "see?"

"Thanks," you said, following them out of the garage.

Jacob lifted both bikes into the back of the truck easily, like they weighed nothing.

It made you shake your head and laugh when he did a few extra lift ups to impress you.

See? You're being silly. You have nothing to worry about, you thought.

You hopped in the truck, taking up the middle space between Jacob in the passenger and Bella in the drivers seat.

It was a mostly silent ride to wherever Jake had decided would be good for a test run, but he soon turned it serious with one question.

"If I had told you I couldn't fix these bikes, what would you have said?" he asked.

It was a question you knew to have been nagging at him for a while.

He and Bella weren't exactly close before this project, so why had she come to him?

You wanted the answer almost as badly as he did.

"Are you doubting your mad skills?" Bella replied, jokingly.

"No. Definitely not," Jake said, smirking. "I mean, they'll run fine. It just, uh..."

He glanced at you on the trail off.

"Maybe if I was smart I would have dragged out the rebuild a bit."

That struck you.

"If you told me you couldn't fix these bikes, I would say that that's really too bad, but we're just gonna have to find something else to do," Bella said, a little laugh in her voice.

You, however, weren't laughing.

What had he meant by that? By dragging it out?

"Is that Sam Uley?" Bella asked as they drove by the jumping cliffs.

"Yeah," Jacob replied. "Him and his cult."

You gave him a look and he shrugged. "What? It's true."

"Oh my god," Bella pulled over as one of the members of Sam's group was practically pushed off the edge of the cliff.

The reaction made Jacob (and you this time) laugh.

"They're not really fighitng, Bella," Jacob assured her. "They're cliff diving. Scary as hell, but a total rush."

"A rush?" she asked.

"Most of us jump from lower down," you said. "We leave the showing off to Sam and his disciples."

Bella, reassured that no one was in serious danger, turned back towards her truck. "You guys have some kind of beef with him or something?"

Jacob tossed his head. "I don't know. They just think they run this place."

"Embry used to call them hall monitors on steroids," you remembered, smiling.

"Now look at him."

"That's Embry?" Bella asked.

She'd met him and Quil a few weeks ago at one of the bike repair meetings, back before he was with Sam.

"What happened to him?" Bella asked.

"He missed some school," you explained. "Cut his hair, got a weird tattoo."

"Now all of the sudden, he started following Sam around like a little puppy," Jacob added, frowning. "Same thing happened with Paul and Jared."

Jacob had mentioned that Sam had been keeping an eye on him lately. Like he was waiting for him or something.

It was freaky.

It was like he was next.

Bella straddled the bike, adjusting herself and wrapping her hands around the handles.

"You look like you're scared," Jacob said.

"I'm not," Bella replied.

You were perched on the edge of Bella's truck bed, watching from a safe distance.

Dirt bikes weren't really your thing and it was their project.

As much as the jealousy monster clawed at your insides, you wouldn't let it win. There wasn't a reason.

Not yet.

Bella reved the bike after Jake showed her the controls, but she seemed distracted.

"You sure she's good to do this?" you asked him as she took off.

"I don't know," he replied, watching her go. "Something's off."

He was proven right as Bella swerved, unable to hit the brake before she was careening over the handlebars and rolling into a stone.

"Oh, shit," you said, hopping up as Jacob used the other bike to speed over to her.

You followed, slower, obviously, stopping only to stare dumbfounded at your boyfriend when he swung off his shirt to tend to Bella's head wound.

What, he couldn't have tore the shirt or something? There wasn't a rag in the truck? What the fuck?

By the time you reached them, they were already walking back. Jake's hand was on Bella's waist and she was leaning on him.

"You okay?" you asked her.

"Fine," she replied, though from the blood still fresh on her forehead, you guessed you were done for the day.

You glanced at Jacob, but he wasn't looking at you. His focus was on her.

A few days later, he said he was going to see a movie with her and some of her friends. Some action flick you knew you wouldn't have the stomach for, so you stayed home.

Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea.

You should've asked him to stay with you, fake something you wanted to do with him that night.

Would he have stayed with you when Bella was on the table?

And when he came back he was angry.

You stopped by his house, wanting to see him after the movie, but he was practically boiling when he got there.

"Woah there tiger, you okay?" you asked when he stormed into his room.

He froze when he saw you, an unknown emotion crossing over his features as he stared at you.

"What is there something on my face?" you asked after a beat.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, grabbing at his head.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned. "What I can't just stop by anymore? You are still my boyfriend right?"

"Get out," he said.

"What the hell?" You said, getting up from your slouched position on his bed when he turned away from you. "Did something happen? Hey, talk to me-"

"Stop! Just stop," he replied, pushing your hand off of him. "Get out. Now."

"Why?"

"Becuase I asked you to."

He was breathing heavily, his skin was hot to the touch, and he was starting to sweat.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Y/N, just leave!"

Taken aback by his anger and not feeling like fighting, you relented. "Fine. Call me when you decide to stop being an asshole."

But he didn't.

In fact, he stopped answering your calls, texts, everything. Every time you went to his house, his dad said he wasn't there. He wasn't at school, he didn't go to group hangouts anymore.

You were starting to get worried.

At first you just thought this was a breakup. That he'd finally decided he wanted Bella more than he wanted you. That he switched schools and was spending every breathing moment he could with her.

So, you decided to confront her. Ask her what the hell kind of game she was playing at. And if he was there, better yet, you could yell at him to.

You slammed the door of your car, storming up to Bella's truck where she was perched, talking to some Forks kids.

"Hey!"

She turned, surprised to see you.

"Where's Jacob?"

"What?" she asked, dumbly.

"Is he with you? I haven't seen him in weeks. He won't return any of my calls. He's gone completely cold, so I'll ask again, is he with you?"

You were seething. You wanted to see the words come out of her mouth, for her to confess that she'd wanted him all to herself.

But she didn't.

Instead, she said, "You too?"

You were slightly relieved to find out you weren't the only one that Jacob had ghosted.

And with a quick conversation, Bella assured you that she just wanted Jacob's friendship and nothing else.

Now all you had to worry about was where the hell your boyfriend was.

You caught him at his house one afternoon in the pouring rain, almost not recognizing the boy who froze when you yelled his name.

You stormed up to him, soaked to the bone and freezing, but he stood there, stone-faced and shirtless.

"Where have you been?" you shouted. "You cut your hair, you got that stupid tattoo. What Sam finally got his claws in you too?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Y/N," he replied.

"I don't?" you asked, angrily. "Cause you look just like every other cronie in Sam's cult. He have a no girlfriend rule or something or was ignoring me just easier than breaking up with me?"

"Go away, Y/N," he said instead of answering.

"Hey!" you shouted, grabbing his arm when he tried to turn away from you. "Talk to me! If you need help-"

"I don't need your help."

"And you need Sam's?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He scoffed, shrugging out of your grip. "Go away."

"No!" you stomped forward as he started to move away. "Don't you still love me?"

He froze.

"Or was that just some bullshit you thought you could say to get in my pants?"

"Stop," he said, turning to face you again. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like, Jake?" you asked, throwing your arms out. "I don't know cause you won't talk to me! I'm out here in the goddamn rain right now for you and you won't tell me anything!"

Shouts from over Jacob's shoulder got your attention and you saw Sam, Embry, Paul, and Jared standing by the treeline.

"Tell me something," you pleaded. "Anything, Jake, please. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "Which is why it's better if we- if I..."

He sighed. "Go inside. My dad's there, you can dry off...I'll be back later, okay?"

"And then? You'll talk to me?"

"Yes. Now go."

You didn't stop him when he turned away this time.

Blinking away the rain and the tears to see him running into the trees with Sam and the others.

Billy offered you a towel and an apology when you went inside.

You grabbed some of Jake's old clothes and put your wet ones in the dryer.

Then, Billy, trying to break the ice, started telling you some of the tribe's old legends.

Wolves.

Jacob came back later, after the rain stopped, to find you and his dad talking, questions flowing out of your mouth.

"Well, this is cozy," he said, strolling casually in the room.

You looked at him, still a little upset with him.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Finally?" you asked back, standing.

Billy and Jacob exchanged a look as you passed him on the way to his room.

"You sure about this, son?"

"She won't tell," he replied. "And...Sam said I could. You know why."

Billy nodded sagely, resigned to his son's decision.

Jacob turned to follow you.

You made it to his room first, sitting yourself down on his bed.

He sauntered in soon after, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he said.

You raised an eyebrow. "Hey?"

"So, dad buttered you up for the truth?" he asked, coming to sit next to him.

"And the truth would be?"

He sighed. "When I tell you this, you're going to think I'm crazy. But I promise that I'm not."

You turned your head slightly, questioningly. "Okay..."

"All these...changes," he started. "They're not...choices."

"What."

"I mean that they're...better for me to have."

"Jacob, you better get to the point or I'm going to slap you."

He huffed out a laugh. "All right, all right. Um. I'm...I'm a werewolf."

"What?"

"Everyone in Sam's pack is. He's the leader."

"Jacob Black you'd better not be fucking with me right now."

"I'm not!" he said. "Ask my dad, ask Sam."

You shook your head in disbelief.

You'd always known Forks was a sort of beacon of strange happenings. The "bear" attacks, the destroyed dance studio last year, other things over the years. Living there your whole life, you start to pick up on that stuff.

Not closely, enough, apparently.

"And...this is a tribe secret?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Er..." he bit his lip. "Cause you're...kind of my soulmate."

"I'm what?"

He laughed, a bigger, happier laugh than you'd heard out of him in a while.

"It's called imprinting. Every wolf has one and, well, I found out you were mine the same night I shifted for the first time," he said.

"When was that?"

"The night I came back from the movies with Bella. Remember how I was all angry and hot?"

"Yeah."

"It was the wolf in me trying to come out. After you left I had to practically jump out of my window to avoid destorying the house."

"I bet Billy would've been thrilled with that," you said, laughing.

Jacob laughed to, leaning in to hug you. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this shit. I thought...I thought it would be easier if I just...waited. But you've never been patient so I should've known that wouldn't work."

You smacked his still bare chest.

He smiled.

"This is a lot to take in," you said.

"I know. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

You reached up to cart your fingers through his hair. "I miss the long hair. But I can't complain about the abs, and the tattoo is kind of hot."

He snorted. "Thanks."

"Is the...warmth all a part of the wolf thing, too? Or is that just you."

He chuckled. "It's a wolf thing."

You hummed. "Well, I've never complained about that part. Tell your ancestors thanks for that."

"I'll get right on it," he said, smiling.

The two of you laid down then, snuggling up on his small bed.

"So. I have a werewolf boyfriend."

"That you do."

"A soulmate werewolf boyfriend."

"You're not gonna let this go ever, are you?"

"Nope. Get used to it, wolf boy."

He groaned. "Do not start with the nicknames."

"Oh, no, I've got a whole list I'm excited to test out on everyone. Think Embry would like dog breath? Ooh, or butt sniffer?"

Jacob rolled on top of you, practically smothering you, which only made you laugh.

He sighed, lifting himself up to look at you. "I really do love you. You know that right? I didn't just say it that time because-"

"Hey," you said, reaching up to cup his face. "I know. And thank you. For telling me the truth. I, uh, I kind of thought you were cheating on me with Bella."

Jacob laughed. "With Bella? I knew you were jealous."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Oh, you're gonna get it now, wolf boy," you said, pushing him off of you and taking the upper hand.

He let you, of course, you couldn't move him before he had extra wolf powers, let alone now.

You couldn't hurt him, but you didn't think wolves were impervious to being ticklish.

"AHAHA!" he laughed out when you started, making you smile with triumph. "Okay! Okay! I give! Uncle! Can we go back to cuddling?"

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

[devonpink]

A Thanksgiving Story

Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid, no three words could better describe my dad. I didn't always see him like that, though. Growing up, we were best buds—I admired and looked up to him as a role model. I truly felt like I could tell him anything, I could trust him. So, you could imagine my shock when after coming out as gay to him, he turned on me. He ignited into a homophobic rage, disowning me as his son. He couldn't stand the sight of me. The unpleasant feeling was mutual and I moved out as quickly as possible.

For almost a decade, there was nothing but radio silence between us. Until one day, I randomly got an email from him, inviting me to a one-on-one Thanksgiving. I read it over and over, completely stunned. As mad and hurt as I still felt, I knew I'd regret not accepting his olive branch. So, I accepted.

A few days later, in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving, I drove over to my dad's place, my childhood home. As nervous as I was, driving up the old driveway and parking in my old spot felt good. As I stepped out of my car, I was reminded of how sweltering it was for November, even for Florida. As much as dressing up sounded fun, wearing a white tank top, dark tan loose shorts, and flip-flops only made sense. My balls would have melted in a pair of underwear, so I freeballed.

My heart was racing, as I flip-flopped to the front door. I was expecting the worst but hoping for the best. I could smell the turkey cooking through the front door as I knocked, its mouth-watering scent calming me slightly. A few seconds later, my dad opened the door. Unsurprisingly, he was exactly as I had left him: bulky beyond belief, obviously my leaving had no effect on his serious workout routine. Then again, maybe he exercised to escape the pain, I know I did that. He was wearing nearly the same thing, the only difference being his loose shorts were black. His pit stains were just as bad as mine—like father, like son, I guess. To my relief, his nervous expression pleasantly told me he was just as anxious as I was.

Stepping inside, I got a good whiff of him as I passed him, that oh-so-familiar scent of cologne failing to mask the intense pit reek. The house, like my father's manly stench, was exactly how I'd remembered it, nothing had changed—it was nice. As my dad led me to the kitchen, with his back to me, I gave my hairy sweaty pits a sniff. They reeked, even worse than my dad's. Unlike him, I'd forgotten to put on deodorant or cologne. We both stunk, in slightly different ways, but that similarity was comforting—like father, like son.

I was expecting things to be insanely awkward, but it was like the good old days. We sat out on the porch, drinking beer and shooting the shit as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking on the barbecue. I forgot how much I loved talking with him, for an arrogant douch bag, he sure could make me laugh. Neither of us had brought up my leaving yet, I assume to not break the good flow we had going. In truth, I didn't want to bring it up. It felt good to pretend everything was as it was in the old days.

When the turkey was done, we brought it inside and gobbled it down like too starving beasts. Obviously, our nerves had calmed down quite a bit. Everything was fantastic, I forgot how good of a cook my dad is. We didn't say much to each other while eating, too distracted by our hunger to converse—like father, like son. Before we dove into dessert, he offered me another beer. As much as the pumpkin pie was calling my name, I couldn't decline.

Instead of the usual beer we were drinking, he brought a brand I'd never seen before, "Obedience." I didn't question why he only brought out a single can, I was too distracted by the pumpkin pie to care. I cracked it open and swigged it down, anxious to get to the pie. However, after I finished, I felt funny. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt different. I silently stared at my dad, watching an evil grin form across his face.

My dad spoke, dropping his nice-guy demeanor. "Now listen up, boy. It's time we finally get to the point of our happy reunion." My heart was racing, I knew something terrible was about to happen. Flashbacks of before I left flooded my mind. Strangely, as much as I wanted to move, I couldn't. My body was frozen like it was waiting for something. "Take another swig of your beer, down every last drop." What happened next shocked me to my core, my body moved on its own! It was like I was a bystander in my own body, only able to watch. I robotically brought the can up to my mouth and downed every last drop, doing exactly what he commanded. At that moment, I horrifily knew exactly why it was called, "Obedience," and why he only brought out a single can of it.

"Belch, boy. Like a man." My dad arrogantly commanded, knowing I'd helplessly comply.

"bbbbbbBBBBUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppppp!!!" Just as he commanded, the biggest manliest belch came out of me. I hated how good it felt to obey him, an obvious effect of the beer.

"Belch again, boy. Except this time, additionally, let out all that stress and worry. Also, uncross your legs and manspread! Sit like a man!" He commanded.

I wanted to resist but was helpless to his commands. "bbbbBBBBBBBuuuUUUUUUrrrPPPPPPPPPpppppp!!!" Like he commanded, all stress and worry had left my body. I then uncrossed my legs and manspreaded, just like my dad. Sitting that way felt so much better.

My dad laughed, like a cocky bastard. "Such a good and obedient son I have." I wanted to get up, scream, anything but just sit there. Except I couldn't move. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't move. "Now, let's get to the good stuff," My dad excitedly proclaimed, unnerving me even more. "Let out all the useless liberalism! Become a rigid conservative, just like dear old dad! Like father, like son! Belch, boy!"

I tried as hard as I could to keep it down, but it was useless. "BBBBBBUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppp!!!! With that, all liberalism and open-mindedness had left me. My mind was assaulted and reprogrammed to believe all sorts of small-minded conservative ideas and beliefs. It was overwhelming, yet electrifying. With conservatism comes stupidity, so my mind had become completely moldable, exactly what he wanted.

"Real men vote red, don't they, boy?" My dad asked, every word dripping with superiority.

"Sir, yes, Sir! Real men Vote-BBBBBBBbbbuuurrrrPPPPPPPPpppp!!!" Before I could finish, another manly burp escaped from me, making my dad bust out laughing. I couldn't help but laugh too, being more stupider now. It felt good to make my dad laugh. I felt like… a good son.

"Now, before we continue, I want to make sure you have no remaining resistance. So, let it all out! Give yourself to me completely! Belch, boy!" My dad commanded.

"BbbbbuuuuuuuUUUUUURRRRPPPPppppppp!" I did as he commanded, like a good son. It felt good, right, to obey him. Why would I want to resist him? He's my dad! He made me, I must obey him!

My dad was grinning like a king, as he should. "Belch again, boy! Belch as loud as you can!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" I was more than happy to obey.

"Fuck yeah, son! You sound just like your old man!" My dad enthusiastically congratulated me.

Having him praise me felt good, so fucking good. More, I wanted so much more!

My dad then got serious, obviously, this next one would be important. "Belch, boy, and erase all gayness from yourself. Become the straight man I've always wanted you to be! No man wants a faggot for a son! Blech, boy! Belch and become straight!!!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" Like a good son, I obeyed. "BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" And just like that, all my gayness was gone. I'm now as straight as a freshly bought nail. I like women, only women, like a normal man. Who'd want to be fag, anyway? Fags are sick freaks!! Thank god I'm not one of them anymore. Thank god I'm straight, just like my dad! Like father, like son!

We celebrated my much-needed transformation over two massive slices of pumpkin pie. Afterward, we returned to the porch and smoked cigars, some of his finest. I feel so much better now that I'm following in my dad's footsteps. I want to be exactly like him, in every single way. I want to be completely interchangeable with him. He gave me a matching pair of sunglasses and a red cap, to protect me from the blistering sun. I obviously wore my cap backward to match him. I'm so thankful for my dad. Without him, I'd be lost.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud III

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the derby

The comments started coming in the moment you got home.

You were in a boot. Your ankle was very badly sprained. Not broken but anymore pressure on Morsa's tackle and it might have been snapped completely.

It wasn't your fault. You knew that but it didn't stop the comments from rolling in.

Some of them (very few of them) were wishing you well in your recovery. More of them were simply people retweeting the injury. But the overwhelming majority were downright nasty.

A lot of them said that you were milking the injury. A few more said you got what was coming to you. Even more said that you had goaded your mother into it.

Your feed was flooded with comments and then DMs, so much so that you had to turn off your notifications.

Your ankle still throbbed and you refused to take painkillers, sitting on a heap on the sofa with your phone opened on Twitter. You don't know why you were doing it. It was like watching a car crash. It was horrible and a bad feeling lodged in your chest but you just couldn't look away.

You kept scrolling through every nasty comment blaming you for your own injury as your ankle throbbed.

The foot door opened and you jumped in shock.

"I'm back!" Morsa yelled out more for Momma's benefit than your own.

"Hmm," Momma grunted from the kitchen, still intent on the silent treatment as Morsa fell next to you on the sofa.

"How's the ankle?"

You gave her a deadpan look. "Sprained."

Her smile fell. "Oh...right..." She looked around the room awkwardly, drumming her fingers on her knee. "Have we sorted out dinner?"

"We're ordering in," You replied. You don't look at her, you just keep staring at your phone. Your eyes pricked with her tears as you stared at the comments. The pain in your ankle lessened as it was replaced by a deep pit in your stomach and a stitch-like pain in your chest.

"Cool. Cool." Morsa let the silence ring for a moment before speaking again," How long do you think it'll take for her to talk to me again?"

"How long does it take for a sprained ankle to heal?"

"That long? I think I'm sleeping out here tonight."

"Hmm, yeah, maybe."

You didn't pay much attention to her as you scrolled through your feed. Your shoulders slumped as you began to clear out your DMs as quickly as you could without getting a glimpse of what was written there.

(It didn't work).

You made sure to keep your mouth shut as a few stray tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to clear your throat quietly. It worked for the most part but you did see Morsa cutting her eyes towards you as Momma returned with a glass of water for you.

"What are you looking at?" Morsa asked as she tried to crane her neck to see.

You tilted your phone away. "Nothing," You insisted.

"It's not nothing," Morsa said firmly," You're crying. What are you watching?"

"Nothing! Can't you just leave me alone?!"

Your phone was snatched from your hand by Momma and she instantly started going through it. You surged to your feet, trying desperately to ignore the pain in your ankle.

"Give it back!"

"Sit! Back! Down!" Morsa's icy voice cut you straight to the bone and you slumped back down into your seat, allowing Morsa to raise your leg up to rest on the pillow stack Momma had set up the moment you got home.

"Why are you reading this utter shit?!" It wasn't often that you heard Momma swear but you knew she was usually mad when she did.

"Mom-"

"No!" She stood up. "I don't want to see you doing this again! You're not to read any more of this stuff! It's stupid and none of this is your fault. It's Magda's! And trust me, she'll get what's coming to her-"

Morsa looked like she wanted the sofa to swallow her whole.

"-But none of this is your fault. You're the one in the boot. You're the victim here!"

"Momma...I-"

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'yes, Momma, I am the victim' then I don't want to hear it!"

Your mouth snapped shut and you began to understand why Morsa tried to make herself invisible.

"Say it," Momma said.

"Mom-"

"Say. It."

You sighed and mumbled out," Yes, Momma, I am the victim."

Momma smiled. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Now, first things first, Magda...You're sleeping on the sofa tonight. You're doing the dishes and the laundry. Understand?"

Morsa tried to hide her smile but you could see it peeking up on her lips. "Yes, Pernille."

"Good. Next, y/n, take some painkillers and you're not getting this back-" She wiggled your phone "-Until I can trust that you're not going to scroll through anymore hate comments."

You sighed. "Yes, Momma."

"Excellent. Now...What do we want for dinner?"

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

tdb boys taking care of pc as a cat? 🫢

Taking care of the purr-fect

After an accident in class the prefect turns in a cat for a day

Wc: 670

Note: I'm going to be honest, I just chose four off the top of my head jaja

Jin

He swears it's the one time he leaves his room for the week and somehow there is an intruder, a cute cat sleeping on his bed. He grabs you by the scruff and calls Thoma who hurriedly takes it from his hands and smooths its hair explaining the mess during class.

He rolls his eyes at the story of how the ghouls -surely vagastorm punks- asked you to help and you ended in the crossfire with a temporary shapeshifting potion, either way he grabs your back, now properly with a hand under your front paws and under your butt.

His family had a few cats, his dad allowed it if they were purebred as a status symbol, and his mom loved the fluffy things. Maybe that is why his usually soft spot turned softer.

Acting huffing and tsundere like lays down on the bed and lets you cuddle up to him, even covering you with his blankets without worrying much about hair sticking to it.

Every so often he texts things to Thoma ‘the cat is hungry, get them fish ‘jin, canned tuna isn't good for cats.’ ‘There's sushi tuna in the kitchen. Hurry’

The most spoiled cat for the day or so that you turned, ribbons as your collar so nobody mistakes you for a worker cat, cooked meat every meal, hair brushed every night -by thoma- and sleeping under many imported silk blankets.

Sho

There was a cat sleeping on Bonnie's seat and, somehow, she wasn't thrashing around for it to get out, quite opposite she seemed to be seeking out sunlight for you. It isn't until he gets closer and you wake up that he recognizes your eyes in the kitty's that he guessed it's you.

He is knocking down on Hyde's office asking about what happened to you and how long it's going to last, Hyde grabs you by the armpits and twists you around before throwing you back to Sho unworried and he guesstimates about a day or two.

He doesn't allow you inside his food truck because he respects food hygiene but you can sleep on the outside tables acting like a mascot, at first Subaru was quite open to touching you in this form until he saw your memories and figured it was you.

He now feeds two mouths, Bonnie and you, sorry Leo, your noodles will have to wait until he finishes the pulled pork bbq sandwich for Bonnie and your cat-friendly oil-free stir fry, die mad about it.

After one of the vagastorm students grabbed you to get you out of a spot on the couch and Sho dared him to meet him at the pit for that, after that nobody really touched you.

Yuri and Jiro

Some general students got called after the accident in class to check out the students who were well except a few scratches, they were called later when the students brought a cat claiming that it was the prefect.

Neither are very worried as it happened before but more interested in how similar your labwork would be to your human one so Yuri is drawing blood, doing ultrasounds to see if everything looks normal or similar to before (if you struggle to much because you are nervous or fear needles and try to scratch him he will make Jiro hold you as you claw at him. At least he doesn't hold it against you when you return to normal)

After that you can hang around mortkraken with a little note stuck on your fur saying ‘dr isami’s patient, do not feed’

Sorry if you like garlic, onions, chives or grapes, the same way they forbade chocolate for Lyca bc he is a wolf those foods aren't entering your mouth soon.

If Yuri is sitting down while writing or reading your test he allows you to lay on his lap and maybe he will rub your belly.

Jiro doesn't mind you climbing him so you can sit on his shoulders while he works and won't tell you anything. He asks teasingly if you wanted to be taller.

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 3

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 2.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 4

“Carmy, what’re you doing here?” You asked, quickly wiping the tears of your cheeks.

“The umm…fight with Claire got worse. Can I crash here tonight?” He asked you. His stress was written all over his face. Carmy’s usual strategy was to avoid his problems. It was why he decided to break up when you got the job offer in Germany, rather than make long distance work.

“Carm…I really don’t know if that’s the best idea.” You said, cautiously. Until the kiss tonight, you hadn’t realized you were still hung up on Carmy. And it felt like he was still hung up on you. So, him crashing at your place while in a fight with his girlfriend didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you.

“Yes, Carm? You really don’t think you spending the night on your ex-girlfriend’s couch is going to make the fight with your girlfriend worse?” You reasoned with him.

Carmy sighed and looked down at the ground. He stuck his hands into his pockets, still refusing to look you in the eyes. “She kicked me out.” He admitted, softly. You could see how embarrassed he was.

“And I’m sure that was a test to see if you’d end up here. I can’t be the person you go to when you’re fighting with Claire. I’m your ex-girlfriend, Carmy.” You told him. Carmy ran his hand through his hair. He knew that everything you were saying was right.

“Can we please just talk?” He practically begged you. He finally looked at you, and you could see his desperation.

You sighed and then opened the door for Carmy to come in. He walked past you and sunk down onto the couch. He put his head in his hands.

You sat down in the armchair next to the couch, hesitantly keeping your distance after the kiss.

“I don’t know what’s fucking going on. I wasn’t expecting to see you today, and it’s really fucked me up. I mean, it was easy to say I was over you when you were four thousand miles away, but then you were right in front of me. And I don’t know if that means you’re just someone who will always be special to me or if I’m still…I don’t know, in love with you or something.” Carmy rambled.

“I know that this has been a lot to adjust to, but this isn’t fair to Claire. You can’t be in love with me. It can’t happen. You’re with her.” You told him. He swore under his breath.

“I know that this is fucked, but did you not feel anything tonight? That kiss didn’t mean anything to you?” He asked you. You pushed yourself to your feet and walked into the kitchen. You poured yourself a drink because you were far too sober to be having this conversation.

“C’mon, don’t just ignore me.” Carmy said, following after you.

“Don’t you understand that I can’t answer that, Carmy?” You asked him, exasperatedly. He closed the distance between the two of you. You backed up until your back bumped against the fridge. “Does that mean it meant something?” He asked you, softly.

You were holding back tears. “It was a fluke, Carmy. You were mad at Claire. And I was surprised to see you. That’s all.” You told him. You had a pit in your stomach, knowing you were in denial.

“What if it wasn’t? What if this wasn’t an accident? You coming back to Chicago and seeing me. What if this is what was supposed to happen?” He asked you, softly. You quickly shook your head, pushing him away from you. “You’re drunk, Carm. You need to go home. I’ll call you an Uber.” You told him.

He shook his head and grabbed your wrists. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked you, his voice breaking. After all these years, you still couldn’t stand seeing Carmy upset.

“You can sleep on my couch tonight, but you need to apologize to Claire tomorrow. I won’t let you mess up your relationship with her because of this. Carm, you and me are in the past. We have to let it stay there.” You told him.

You walked past him towards your bedroom. You grabbed a spare blanket and pillow and headed back towards the living room. You found Carmy sitting on the couch wiping tears off his cheeks.

He softly thanked you as you handed him the pillow and blanket. “Hey,” he called out and gently grabbed your hand. You turned back around to face him.

“I’m sorry for all this. I shouldn’t be putting you through this shit.” He apologized, sincerely. You smiled and nodded. You didn’t know what else you could say to Carmy to fix things. “Good night, Carmy,” you said, before leaving the room.

Neither one of you slept good that night.

When you woke up, you were dreading having to face Carmy. When you finally emerged from your bedroom, you found the blanket neatly folded on the couch with a note on top.

You recognized Carmy’s scribbled handwriting.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all the shit I said last night. I needed time to think and clear my head, and I shouldn’t have bothered you. Thanks for letting me stay over. I’ll see you at Richie’s party today, so I guess I’ll see you soon. - Carmy”

You felt your heart sink as you remembered about Richie’s party. Knowing that you’d have to face Carmy and Claire was eating you up inside.

You headed towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You heard the front door squeak as it opened: Maria returning home from her night with Richie.

“Girl, I have so much to tell you.” She said, enthusiastically. You turned around to face her, trying to fake excitement. “Oh no. What happened with you? Is it Carmy?” She asked, instantly being able to read every emotion on your face.

You quickly shook your head, dismissing it. “We’ll get to my shit later. I want to hear all about your night first.” You told her.

You both made coffee and then sat together on the couch. She gave you the full debrief on how Richie had officially asked her out last night. He wanted it to be the real deal after they had refused to label their relationship the last time.

“Okay, so what about you? I know that face. I know something happened. Are you okay?” She asked, concerned. You held back your tears and shrugged. “Shit hit the fan last night,” you said, laughing at how messed up everything had gotten.

“You and Carmy seemed good though.” She said, having only seen the cute moments between you and Carmy at the club last night.

“I don’t know if you got looped in on this last night, but apparently Carmy is dating Claire. You remember from back in school? Yeah, so she got pissed at Carmy because I was back in town. She seemed pretty convinced that he wasn’t over me. So, I went upstairs to avoid all the drama. And then Carmy kissed me, but I stopped him.” You started to explain.

“Then, I came back here, and a few hours later, Carmy showed up. He wanted to crash here. I told him it was a bad idea, and he started talking about not knowing if he was still in love with me.” You told her.

By the time you finished explaining, she was stunned. “Oh my god, are you going okay? I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.” She said, pulling you in and giving you a hug.

“I’m just so nervous for Richie’s party today. I can’t stand the idea of seeing Carmy after the stuff he told me. And Claire is pissed at me, which I understand, but I haven’t done anything.” You said. She nodded along, recognizing how tricky the situation was. “Well, I’m sure it will be fine, but if you don’t want to go or you want to leave early, I totally understand.” She told you.

You both got dressed for the party and headed towards the Bear.

When you walked inside, you saw all the decorations that you assumed Sugar hung up. The first person you both bumped into was Carmy. “Hey, guys,” he said, smiling at the both of you.

You forced yourself to ignore him and made a beeline for where you saw Sugar on the other side of the room. Maria got dragged into a conversation with someone else.

“How are you? You look amazing.” Sugar said, pulling you in for a quick hug. “Thanks, so do you,” you said, smiling at her.

“Excuse me, let me sneak past you both.” You heard Claire say as she juggled two drinks. She walked past you both and headed towards Carmy. Nat noticed the glare that she gave you, but didn’t mention it.

Then, Richie appeared. “Hello, my amazing friend, it’s nice to see you.” Richie said, pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s nice to see you too, Richie. Happy birthday,” you said, holding out the gift bag you had for him. He graciously accepted it. “Thank you, and thank you for coming. I know it’s a lot with the whole Claire Carmy situation.” He said.

“Did something happen with you and Carmy? He keeps looking over here.” Nat asked. You felt your heart sink. You were trying to avoid Carmy as much as possible at this party, which you knew would be a challenge. “Yeah, I didn’t see you much after Claire showed up last night. You two okay?” Richie asked you. They were both concerned for you.

While you appreciated their concern, you did not want to talk about it. You wanted to take a page out of Carmy’s book and ignore the problem until it went away.

“I love you both so much, and I know you mean well. But, I really don’t want to talk about Carmy. So, if you’ll excuse me for a minute.” You said, heading towards the kitchen door. You needed some peace and quiet to clear your head.

You walked in and saw Sydney. “Oh, hey. You look great, that dress is gorgeous.” She complimented. You quickly thanked her and noticed she was making herself a drink.

“Anyway you could make me one of those?” You asked her, curiously.

She quickly nodded. “Yeah, of course. Ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend problems? Coming right up,” Sydney said, immediately understanding.

Meanwhile, Claire had just overheard Richie tell Maria that he “had a great time last night” and asked if she wanted to stay over again. She immediately marched over towards where Carmy was standing in the corner.

“Hey, baby,” Carmy said, wrapping his arm around Claire’s waist. “Where did you say you went last night?” She asked him. They’d already had this conversation, but now she knew he’d lied.

“What do you mean? I told you I went over to Richie’s.” He lied, pressing a kiss to her temple. Carmy was trying to act nonchalant, but he knew something was off. “Really? Cause I just overheard Richie say he had a very different guest last night, and it wasn’t you.” Claire confronted him.

Carmy froze. He didn’t know why he had lied in the first place. Probably because he knew that if he told Claire he stayed with you that Claire would assume you slept together.

“Did you go to see her last night?” Claire asked, her tone was icy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, c’mon,” Carmy said, guiding Claire towards the kitchen, so they could have their conversation in private.

“You want to hide me away, so all your friends don’t know how shitty you are?” Claire asked. Carmy groaned to himself. “C’mon, we don’t have to do this in front of everybody.” He said, continuing to nudge her towards the door.

“You know what, Carmen? It’s really my fault. I should’ve known that if little miss soulmate ever came back to Chicago, you would’ve fallen right in to bed with her. What was I thinking? That having a girlfriend would have stopped you? Clearly not,” she yelled at Carmy as he pulled her into the kitchen.

They both froze when they saw you and Sydney standing in the kitchen, with shocked expressions.

“Oh, for fucks sake. Of course you’re here,” Claire groaned. You downed the rest of your drink, needing the temporary courage.

“Listen, Claire, whatever is going on with you both is not my business, but you have no reason to have an issue with me. Nothing happened last night. He slept on my couch. I didn’t fuck your boyfriend.” You yelled at her, storming past them and heading out the front door.

Sydney quickly excused herself, not wanting to be stuck with the fighting couple. Claire and Carmy both were still stunned. You were someone who was always pretty able to keep your cool.

Carmy looked between Claire and the door that you ran out of. “Are you fucking kidding right now? You want to run after her, don’t you?” Claire asked Carmy, shocked. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair.

“You know what? Fuck you, and yes, I do want to run after her.” Carmy said, rushing towards the door. He ran down the street looking for you when he spotted you crying in the alley. He rushed towards you.

He wiped the tears off your cheeks and pulled you into a hug. “This is your fault, Berzatto.” You said, pushing him away from you.

“I know I really screwed up. I shouldn’t have come over last night, but I don’t know what to do.” Carmy said, looking over at you and hoping you had the answers. You didn’t know what to tell him.

“You need to be with your girlfriend right now, not comforting me.” You told him. You figured the only way to keep the shit show from happening was to keep you two apart. “But I still care about you. I still consider you a friend, and you matter to me.” He told you softly.

“But, I can’t matter to you. Not anymore,” you said, before turning to leave.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x @delicateholland @kythefangirl25 @bwoah-its-g @lillysfrogsandbogs @4ria790 @parkerm8001

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[sublimati0ns]

any thoughts on screamer being protective of knock out?..👉👈 maybe in your post-war au or would it be too ooc?

YESSS I definitely think he’d be protective—just in his own weird and esoteric way. I feel like, even months (and let’s be real, years) after the war is over, Starscream would struggle to let himself form attachments without strings.

While they were under Megatron’s employ, it was only natural for a commander to care about the wellbeing of strategically-vital colleagues, but now that the war’s over, he’d have to find other ways to justify his investment… Which, luckily, is not too hard, cuz 1) he kind of needs to have a doctor-contact to stay alive and well, and 2) having someone backing him as the leading representative for ex-Decepticons on Neo Cybertron is important for his legitimacy ⬅️ guy who really struggles with Not Scheming after Only Scheming for Millions of Years

Having at least one follower will make it easier to command the respect of other returning ’cons than having no one would (disregarding the fact that everyone else considers him and Knock Out to be of equal status in the ‘rebuilding Cybertron’ endeavour, and—if he’s being really and truly honest with himself—he does too; he only does the ex-commander thing to posture and distance).

So of course he’s concerned with keeping Knock Out in his pocket, and also gets antsy when he doesn’t know where Knock Out is or what he’s doing and why isn’t he being kept in the loop HELLO would it not have been pertinent to INFORM him of his little jaunts in Shockwave and Ratchet’s new lab—honestly, Starscream thought Knock Out didn’t even like Shockwave—or joyrides across the wastes with that self-righteous little scout and the starry-eyed groupie?! What does KO mean ‘it wasn’t a big deal’ and ‘you’re hovering again [neutral-positive observation]’ (he is a SEEKER not a HELICOPTER he does NOT hover), should he not know where his sort-of-partner-kind-of-second-in-command is AT ALL TIMES (unless he’s mad at KO in which case KO can go scrap himself)—

So with that in mind, I imagine his protectiveness usually manifests in him being annoying as all hell 🤦 Which Knock Out finds both amusing-and-maybe-endearing and absolutely irritating (‘by the pit do you ever stop nagging’) in alternation. I think despite Starscream’s readiness to nitpick, though, he’d freeze up when the iron is hot (haha referencing my own art /smacked) when it comes to making requests of Knock Out to stick around if he doesn’t have a concrete reason for it beyond ‘it would soothe his anxiety.’

But if anyone or anything ever does something to KO, they better hope to Primus the Autobots will save their spark cuz they are going to DIE otherwise, and it will NOT be quick and easy like Cliffjumper’s termination!!!

Though SS would probably, like, try to be chill and aloof about this anyway. It’s not like he had an extreme emotional reaction to something bad happening to you Doctor it’s purely that he has honour as a Decepticon and must enforce karma to assure everybot knows not to frag around and find out, you see. Why is everyone asking when the last time he recharged was—Primus, he’s not a sparkling—and maybe if the Autobots and vehicons weren’t such incompetent oafs he wouldn’t even HAVE to stand watch in Knock Out’s recouperation suite 24/7 😒!!! He’s only being RESPONSIBLE, doing his DUE DILIGENCE—which, honestly, those Autobot hypocrites should be doing FOR him!

(Meanwhile Knock Out is on the recharge slab, in pretty good shape for all the fuss Starscream is making, like :] but playing along anyway. ‘Clearly the Autobots’ security initiatives are lacking in the first place—I can’t believe they let me get ambushed!’ and ‘Say, I’m feeling a twinge between the wheels, along the transformation seam—would you take a look? No, no need to get Ratchet’ and ‘Though, as much as I appreciate the dedication, Screamer, this is starting to feel like a prison watch—’)

[latenightdaydreams]

Just read Tutor pt 1 and 2 and I've got to say... How dare we treat our precious boy like that- I need part 3 (if there is one-) to be like.. König somewhat distances himself and tries to stop having these constant feelings. I need more angst cause I am a fiend for good angst TwT

🤭of course!

Tutor Part 3 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 Part 2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, angst, fingering, oral, p in v, public sex

2.1k word count

📖

.

.

It’s fifteen minutes past the start time for class when you enter the lecture hall. No backpack and wearing a tight fitted dress, the hem barely coming down to the middle of your thighs. König looks over your body, noticing his marks, before looking away with a stoic look on his face. He can feel you looking at him occasionally from over your shoulder, but he doesn’t return the gaze.

In all honesty, König had been debating on even showing up to class today. He never thought that he would grow to love you so easily or that you would break his heart just as easily. He’s angry with himself for thinking that you would change for someone like him. All he can focus on is what you did with Troy once you left. His stomach growls from missing breakfast. He completely lost his appetite.

Every time you look back, König’s eyes that usually follow your every move are not even glancing at you. There is a pit in your stomach. You definitely ruined things this morning. If going back and redoing this morning was a possibility, you’d do that in a heartbeat.

Once class is over, you stand and approach König. You stand there watching as König packs up his laptop. He doesn’t even look over at you, ignoring your presence. The tension between the two of you is suffocating.

“Hey.” You tap on the desk waiting for him to look over at you finally.

“Hey.” König’s voice is low and gruff.

“Are you ready to…get to work?” You bite your lower lip and cross your arms behind your back, swaying slightly.

König lets out a deep sigh and stands up, looking down at you. “Ja, let's go to the library.”

“Library?”

“Ja.”

“But König—”

“Do you want help, or no?”

You stand there gazing at him for a moment, feeling your heart sink. Your eyes roam over his face, seeing the slight frown on his lips. Instead of trying to insist on going to his room, you give in and back up.

König takes long strides, leaving you behind while he walks to the library. His palms are sweaty as he thinks about the fact that he will have to sit beside you and talk to you. As much as he hates it, all he can think about is how your body feels on him, how sweet you looked snuggled up next to him all night. Then also what you did with Troy that caused you to be fifteen minutes late.

You take a seat at one table in the back of the library, sitting in the chair closest to König. He lets out an annoyed huff, but doesn’t move. With soft eyes, you watch him unpack his back and get his laptop out. The surrounding air both feels thick and uneasy, both aware that a conversation about this morning will have to happen.

“König?”

König shifts his head to you, looking at you with a guarded glare in his eyes. “What?”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I am.”

“About us?”

“There is no us.” His words make your face feel flush, but you’re y/n, you try to keep composure.

“I just sucked your dick last night.”

König waves you off after that comment and logs into his laptop before pulling out the textbook, handing it to you. You take it but drop it on the table with a loud thud and just look at him. Annoyed, you nudge his shoulder.

“Talk to me! Are you mad at me?”

“Do you want me to help or not?” König snaps.

“I want to talk to you!”

König stands and packs his things in a rush, his voice sounding as if he’s holding back tears. “Then I’m done.”

You sit there as you watch König as he walks out of the library, leaving you with no answers. The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your head. Just then your phone rings, Troy. With shaky legs you stand and answer your phone.

“I’m done with you Troy. I don’t want to talk.” You say through gritted teeth before hanging up on him.

Knowing König’s schedule, you wake up early the next morning and get ready to see him. You get dressed in jeans and a cropped white shirt, grabbing your backpack before heading out to buy him breakfast. In the back of your mind, you’re aware that he might reject you again. You stand nervously at his door before knocking.

König answers the door, looking down at you with sleepy eyes. His shirt off exposing his beautiful body before meeting his eyes, blue pajama pants hugging him. He looks you up and down, taking in your beautiful figure before looking you in the eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I got breakfast.” You smile and hold it up to him trying your best to be soft.

König looks at the brown bag in your hand then back to you before grabbing it from you. He looks inside, trying to not show how much he appreciates this gesture from you. There is a lull in conversation as you both stand there scared to speak next.

“Uh, I have my backpack if you have time to…study.”

“Ja, I’ll meet you in the library in twenty minutes.” König closes his door on you. You take a deep breath, fighting down the want to bang on his door and demand he open it. At least he’s agreed to meet you.

At the library you sit at the same table as last time, you book on the table and a pen between your fingers as you nervously fumble with it. Your eyes drift to the doors anxiously waiting for König to grace you with his presence. Thirty minutes pass before he does.

You sit with König and watch him unpack, keeping your comments to yourself. The last thing you want is for him to leave so soon. He jumps into the lesson without giving any room to talk. All you can do is look at his hands as he moves around, the way his lips curve as he speaks.

“König.”

“What?” His pale eyes meet yours.

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Please?”

König sits back in his seat and looks around the library, seeing how many people are here. It’s early but there is still a bit of a crowd. He shouldn’t make a scene, but he has to know. His body adjusts in his seat to face you.

“What did you do with Troy after seeing me?”

“Wha- why is that important?”

“Because I don’t understand how you can be soft in my arms on moment and fucking someone else the next.”

“Yes, we fucked, but I broke up with him.”

There is nothing said with words, only looks. König’s eyes drop down to your lips and back to his eyes. Did you break up with him? But yet you still fucked him and that hurts. His eyes bore into your soul as if he is trying to read your mind.

“Why did you two break up? The marks?”

“No, I mean he was upset but I broke up with him after yesterday.”

“For me?”

You can feel your walls wanting to go back up and deny him, but you also know that does nothing but cause pain for the both of you. As you drop your gaze down to the table in front of you. “Yes.”

König lets out a soft hum, his expression hard to read. His heart beats picking up pace as he leans forward, grabbing your jaw and pulling you to him. Your lips meet in a fiery passionate kiss; sparks flying between the two of you.

As surprised you are for the kiss, you don’t pull away, but lean into it. Your mouth opens, forcing your tongue past his lips to taste him. A gentle moan leaves your lips as your tongues slowly swirl around one another. His hands slip down your face to your waist, pulling you to him. Without a second thought on where you two are, you get up and straddle him.

König wraps his hands around your ass, squeezing your supple flesh through the fabric of your jeans. The feeling of your tongue on his, the taste of your lips, you’re his. So lost in the moment, the two of you fail to see all the eyes that have shifted focus and are now zeroing in on your public display. Some laughs, seeing you, the hot popular one, shoving her tongue down König’s throat. The awkward nervous giant groping you publicly.

Being a self-conscious person, König turns his head when he hears the loud group of people talking. Your lips move to his cheek and down his neck as he looks, your hand gently cupping his face to turn him back to you.

“Ignore them.” You whisper.

“Let’s go.”

You nod, moving off of his lap to grab your things. The both of you quickly packed up. As you do, your phone buzzes, Troy. He's sent photos and videos of you making out with König already. He sends text after text insulting you for leaving him for that “ogre”, but you ignore the text. König grabs your hand and guides you through the hall before leading you into the men’s bathroom with you.

König grabs your bag and drops it on the counter along with his. His lips kiss your neck, roaming down your neck as he bites you, pressing you against the wall. You’re being submissive to him as you allow him to explore and touch your body in any way he wants to. He lifts your shirt, pulling one of your breasts out of your bra. The trail of bites continues until he bites your nipple, pulling a gasp from you.

“You’re mine. Not Troys, or anyone else’s. Mine.”

You nod, gazing up at him as he undoes your jeans. His eyes travel over your exposed breast and then back up to your eyes. He slides your jeans down, his warm hands grazing over the soft skin of your thighs.

“Say it.” König drops to his knees before you, his eyes lingering on your clothed cunt.

“I’m yours.”

König pulls down your underwear, a small smile on his face as he sees your pussy, already wet for him. One of his hands gently lifts your left leg, placing it over his shoulder. His middle and ring finger leisurely graze across your folds. He lifts his head to look into your eyes as he slips his two fingers into you, opening his mouth to match your gasp.

“Say my name.”

“König.”

“That’s right, you're mine.”

He moves his fingers in and out of you as he watches your head drop back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as his two fingers stretch you out more than Troy's cock did. König smirks, reaching up with his other hand to cup your breast as he leans forward, flicking his tongue on your growing clit.

“Oh fuck…” A light moan leaves your lips.

“Only my name, Liebling.”

König presses his face more between your warm thighs as he pumps his arm faster, his fingers curved forward to rub on your g-spot. With his other hand he gently twirls your nipple between his thumb and pointer.

“König, please.”

He responds by letting out a soft hum against your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. The taste of your creamy cunt consuming his taste buds as your leg twitches over his shoulder. His eyes gaze up at you as you look down at him, his pupils full blown by the excitement of having you so publicly. Anyone can hear your wet pussy, your pleas as you call König’s name out.

“König!” Your mewls become more pathetic and desperate. “Please!”

“Are you going to cum?”

“Ye- yes…” Your voice trembles.

König doesn’t change his pace, moving his face back between your legs to roll his tongue in waves over your sweet sensitive clit. Your velvety walls begin to tighten around his two fingers. His cock twitching and leaking, desperately wishing to be inside of your cunt feeling your tightness.

“König…please!”

From outside the bathroom, a few people walking by can hear your loud moans. The way you’re desperately crying out for König’s touch. It’s clear by your voice and the photos in the library being circulating around social media already. No one dares to interrupt you too, scared of your attitude and König’s size.

König has you now bend over the counter in the bathroom, a handful of hair pulling your head back so you can look at yourself. His hips slam harshly against your ass, watching the ripple effect of each thrust. He looks up at your reflection. Your slack jaw face is completely overwhelmed with ecstasy, eyes fluttering as your body succumbs to his.

[billythesimp]

Hellooo! I've seen your work and i was really amazed by your work. It's just pure mwah 🤌🏻❤️

I thought you were close on request before, so when i see it finally open i was in joy like fr. (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) I have few but im gonna slow with you since im sure you also busy.

So mine is Wise (you can add any other characters) x reader (prefer fem but gn is also okay). “when he saw someone else start to flirt with you (and he is jealous).”

If not, feel free to skip this request. I completely understand. Have a nice day and make sure take care of yourself (⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^)/❤️

How do I write a Jealous Character... Oki here I go then.

[Proceeds to then stare at the screen for another 10 minutes trying to write a jealous character]

I think he came out more overprotective then anything ;-;

Who's This Dear?

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…

Sorry for disappearing for a bit, decided to take a break and figure out a schedule that wouldn't give me writers block oh so quickly! Also another note, I promise I'm not just a Wise account, people just love this goof! Me included!

Wise x fem!reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙

tw: OOC / Use of [Name] instead of Y/N

✦ Usually customers were not a big problem at Random Play, with the experience he had gained from being a store manager leading to him adapting to the more tougher requests and issues it came with. He keeps a calm face and offers solutions to many people's problems. And a lot of the time, they are satisfied with his care that regulars swear that Belle and Wise are some of the efficient and caring managers there are. They never get mad or yell, the handle almost every interaction with care and patience. Because of that, Wise prides himself in having gained that reputation on Sixth Street. 

✦ What he also has pride in is what a wonderful girlfriend he has working alongside them. Almost everyone they work with or know on the street know of Wise’s Girlfriend. While she may only work part time during the week, she’s made an effort in getting to know Wise’s connections and making friendly conversation with their fellow vendors on the street. Every time Wise sees her chatting up with their regulars or laughing with someone like General Chops or Master Tin, he can’t help but have his heart swell in joy that they really are such a great person and that everyone approves of them already. Really, Wise believes he scored with this one, the amount of times Belle has joked about them getting married may happen sooner rather than later. 

▿

That being said, it’s during one of the shop’s working hours that it happened. He decided to take inventory of what stock they had around the store, [Name] incharge of manning the counter as Bangboo 18 needed a well-deserved recharge. But as he was shelving some recordings, he heard the angelic laughter of his love that left him wondering just what they could have been laughing at. Peeking out the slot of the staff door, he watched as some random man leaned on the counter. He held a smug look on his face as she only waved him off, a pleasant yet confused smile on their face leaving a growing pit to form in his stomach. 

‘Who the hell is he?’

Wise straightened up his jacket before walking outside to see what they had been talking about. “Oh come now, don’t be so modest. After all, a pretty face like yours surely is what keeps this business going. Why not take a break, how about we get some lunch together after your break- eh?”

“Oh hey babe, how’s the counter treating ya?” Wise saddled up to the counter with his hand hovering over the small of their back, watching as they relaxed at his touch. “Oh- Wise! It’s been good, um. Do you know if we have this movie in stock by chance? I couldn’t find it on the system…” She tucked a hair behind her ear, smiling before letting him slide in and take a look on their small tablet holding all their movies listed in rented/overdue/in-house. The man before stepped back as he did this, slowly getting nervous. 

“Ah- yeah, I looked around and couldn’t find it. Hehe…”

“Hmm, oh [Name], you’re due for your break. I can watch things from here.” She perks up at this, smiling before asking him about sharing lunch together again. “I’m down for sandwiches- OH we could get to 141 and grab some snacks. I’ll go now actually!” With that, she entered the staff only only to return after with her purse and kissing him goodbye, waving to the stranger and wishing him luck with his movie search. 

“Hmm, sorry sir, Looks like what you’re looking for isn’t here. Could I recommend anything else for you? Perhaps something that isn’t already someone else’s property?” Wise sneers at the stranger, a kind-hearted look plastered onto his face despite the dark tone in his voice that only left the man to shiver at his work.

“Um, looks like it's not here… I’ll be going then.”

“Oh, please do.” With a wave, Wise’s closed eye smile turned into a deathly glare as he left and walked the opposite way from where [Name] had gone. Once he figured that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, he let out a sigh of relief and slumped down. The one time he leaves his girlfriend alone and someone already tries to make a move on them. 

“Well that was a sight, huh?”

Belle entered from the backdoor, playfully teasing her brother as he reeled back in shock out of her sudden timing, all the while Eous runs up to his second parent and leaves comforting pats on his legs. “What happened with [Name]? I thought she was watching the front for me?” Wise sighs before muttering out a small explanation, embarrassed as he never lost his cool like this before. Other than the time Belle got lost in a Hollow, he's never overreacted to this extent. He’s only glad that it was Belle and not [Name] who entered, he wouldn’t know how she’d react if she realized he was jealous and became protective of them.

“Way to show who’s the boss around here. Man, I kinda wish I could have seen it.” 

“Master, I have full access to the store camera’s and save every recording for the next 30 days until removal. I can pull it up on the H.D.D System for you.” Before Wise could refuse, Belle is already running into the Staff room to save the recording before it was too late. 

“Wise! I’m back! And I got your favorites!”

The bell rang as [Name]’s cheering caught his attention while they held up two small bags filled with various candies and snacks. He could only smile, approaching them and pulling them into a tight hug. “Thanks love, I really appreciate it. Now how about we watch a movie in my room for a while, huh?”

He is only grateful that he has such a loving and thoughtful girlfriend by his side.

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

The Danny Bunch x Fistfights:

Daniel's characters often get beaten up but they don't typically instigate fistfights. If they do fight back, it's with wits. Should they choose violence, their weapon of choice is usually a gun.

If a brawl were to break out, however, Erik, Zemo, Checo, Laszlo, and Niki would probably have caused it with something they said or did, deliberately or otherwise. In my mind they're not necessarily a part of the scuffle, they're just pot stirrers. Arranged the likelihood of someone having diabolical intent from left to right. It peters out by the time it gets to Laszlo and Niki, as they mostly trigger conflict with the unfiltered truths they speak. While many of Daniel's characters would probably lose in a fistfight, I see Alex, Arbo, Tony, and Andrea going down after a single punch. Why these babies would be in a physical altercation, however, is beyond me. David from Lila, Lila was originally on this list but then I remembered he did beat up his tormentor in a mad rage. I was also tempted to add dorky ol' Marek but then he looks way too fit to be knocked out so easily. Marko would obviously win in a punching match. I'm willing to bet Horstmayer would, too. Ernst slugged someone in The Cloverfield Paradox (threw the first blow and all) but that was after this person directed multiple accusations at him. He has a temper but I don't think he readily resorts to violence. There is this feral quality to him though, so if he is in one, I see him winning. Zemo could take on a horde of non-enhanced fighters any day. Daniel (Weltz), Tobias, and Sebastian I see running away from shit they probably stirred, the scumbags. Zemo chooses his battles. He's a skilled fighter but against, say, the Avengers or the Dora Milaje, he knows he's better off ditching the scene or pitting them against each other. Lutz, Klaus, and Frederick go apeshit when cornered or scorned. They go from nasty to full-on Nazi. To Zemo, bombs are an acceptable means to an end—a literal tool in the arsenal. Should anything stand in the way of his mission, he will make them go BOOM.

*** p.s. if it isn't obvious already, Zemo appears four times because he changes tactics depending on the situation.

p.p.s. not sure who to credit for this concept since it's all over the internet but this alignment chart is adapted from THIS POST. I also do not know who coined the term "The Danny Bunch" but I've seen it in some posts. Tumblr's search system is no help, so I'm just borrowing it here.

[angelbitezzz]

I did mention that the Dancetale pair were like one of the first to start dating and I thought it'd be really funny if the hypothetical universe meetup had the pair from classic Undertale before they got together because they took it so slow

Angel stared at the two in front of her, jaw almost touching the floor. Her face felt hot, eyes nearly popping out of her head. She didn't look at the skeleton next to her, knowing without even seeing that he'd gone as stiff as she had. After all, it wasn't every day you saw an alternate universe version of yourself kissing someone you consider a good friend.

Star parted from her Sans with a bright grin, finally looking over at the classic pair. Her expression morphs into confusion.

"What's up? You guys look like you've seen a ghost."

"I. Uh. I'm fine."

The other Sans opened his sockets and looks at her, those eye-lights just a little fuzzy. (Her Sans looks at her that way sometimes. She doesn't let herself think of why.) They sharpen almost immediately though, and she feels that all too familiar sensation of being CHECKed, a crawling up her spine and a silent awareness of her soul.

His gaze switches between her, her Sans, and then back to her. That all too familiar look passes over this stranger's face, that amused understanding like he'd figured out a puzzle of some kind. And she wonders if all of them share that expression.

"heh."

He turns his head and mutters something into Star's ear. Her doppelganger blinks owlishly at them before understanding dawns.

"...snrk—" She covers her mouth with a hand, but Angel saw that grin coming a mile away. She can't even bring herself to be mad about that, because she'd do the exact same thing in her shoes. "Sorry, sorry! I'm gonna go ahead and steal my boyfriend now. It was nice meeting you!"

Star drags her Sans away in the direction of two others, calling out like her goal was to embarrass Angel and Sans even further. "Can't wait! Gonna dance with the love of my life! The fire of my loins! Etcetera!"

...Would it be morally correct to choke your alternate self?

Angel shakes her head to clear the thought, mortification crawling up her back. She risks a look over at Sans.

He's usually so put together, features betraying nothing beyond a lazy grin and a curious stare. Now though, he's just as flushed as she is. One hand is over his mouth, covering the twitching teeth as he fights to keep his grin intact. It's about the closest thing to a frown from him that she's ever seen, the sight punching her slightly in the chest. All of a sudden, it's like she's been transported back into grade school, classmates laughing. Little jerks tapping her on the shoulder, saying "So and so likes you!" And the target always, vehemently, denying with a clear disgust.

Angel chokes down the poison and laughs, startling the skeleton. The sound is thin.

"That was, uh, something! Sorry about that."

"...eh. it's fine. different timelines, different people." What she perceives as disgust is wiped from his face as he pulls himself back together. "guess we're getting back to mingling?"

"Sure." There's a pit in her stomach. "Onward!"