#smart dog fence

[reuptakeinhibitor]

i love stobin working retail jobs and sharing a resume so much but consider this. steve follows robin to bloomington, indianapolis, west lafayette, wherever she decides to go and they get a little apartment. maybe they decide to go out of state but i think they stay in the midwest. then st takes a page from buffy and steve works construction while robin goes to school.

[tj-crochets]

I have new neighbors and today they were out in their yard (the youngest kid saw a cool bug) and their little dog was offleash so I got to meet neighbor dog! Neighbor dog is my new favorite

[moonygryffin]

One day I’m going to stalk do a deep dive to figure out who owned my dog before us and beat him up for what they did to him >:(

It wasn’t physically abuse don’t worry about that, he was just a covid baby that got dropped off at a shelter in the middle of the night with no warning and it gave him the WORST separation anxiety

[b-rainlet]

Cannot watch 'cute cat videos' on here anymore because they either a. Endanger the cat or B. Endanger a prey animal that is being forced to interact with the cat

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[he-screm]

I love how on other social media apps im like “what tags will get the most people to see my content” while on here im like “lemme make a second post inside the tags”

[zer0wzs]

"𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙤"

[ gn!reader ] jason todd does not know how greatly positive the impact of owning a dog is wc: 1232

AN: i whipped this up just randomly my apologies if its kinda just . eh??? i still like it to some extent and oh!! this is my first jason pov fic

“That’s Milo, I’m guessing?” Jason mused.

“Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?” You grin, pointing at the four-month-old beagle. It’s Jason’s first time meeting the dog. He’s only known him through pictures so far, but you’ve only had him for a few days anyway. “Gosh, he’s the absolute cutest.”

Like a slightly dismissive father, Jason wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting a pet. Rent is high enough as it is, even in terms of Gotham’s cost of living, and as wonderful as the idea is, it would only dent his schedule.

You, however, go against his views (Not that he ever forced it on you) and adopt a rescue puppy from a nearby shelter.

“I don’t know. You might like the dog more than me.” He joked.

He’s still on the fence about this. Though you live on the more well-off side of the city, the neighborhoods here still aren’t the safest place to walk dogs. He’d hate to see you devastated if the dog got hurt.

“Aww,” you pout, giggling as you walk up to him and pinch his cheek—Milo cuddled in one arm. He’s perplexed, for sure, but he doesn’t reject this affection at all. Hell, he likes it for sure. “My pretty Jay is jealous.”

He scoffs, not knowing how to reply. His snarkiness is wiped. How embarrassing. He felt his cheeks flushing and eyebrows cinching. God, this was embarrassing. You’re kind of embarrassing. He wants it no other way, though. “No, I’m not? I did not say anything like—”

“It’s okaaaay,” you hum, swaying on your feet as you put Milo back on the floor. You pull his cheeks and sway each other back and forth. “You’ll always be my number one.”

He feels a kiss on his cheek, and his body pulls him back to look at it. It has its own mind that is disposed of you at this point.

The faint smell of your citrus shampoo is less notable. It’s been slowly replaced by the eternal fuzzy dog smell Milo, like any other dog, holds. He doesn’t hate it. Although he loves your usual scent, this is nice too. 

“What do you think?” You ask, breaking the silence one more. He sees the way your shoulders freeze a little and the way your eyebrows worriedly pull up. “Do you think he’s cute, or—”

“I think Milo is very lively. Very energetic. I like him.” Jason assures you with a hand holding your face, thumb caressing the cheek. “I’m just worried that it would take a toll on—”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “I got this, though! You know how long I’ve been preparing for this.”

And he does. He’s seen you do the research. He’s seen you visit the shelter multiple times. He’s seen you saving up the money for the puppy—including food, vaccines, medicine, toys, and whatever things you fear the dog may need. He’s seen it all, and he questions why he’s even doubting you.

You’re smart. You’re strong. He comes to the conclusion, though, that he still holds the position to worry. He believes in it. At the end of the day, your safety and comfort is his responsibility.

You two are walking Milo—or, rather, you are; Jason’s just more than happy to accompany you.

He declines your many offers to hold his leash. He fears losing something that means so much to you or hurting him with a simple tug because of his sheer strength. He’s calculated, sure, but he’s not cut for this simple life. He knows roughly how much it would take him to bring down a squad of armed men, but he does not know when a batter is over or undermixed.

You don’t know that, though. It’ll stay that way, he thinks.

“I think this is it.” Your voice snaps Jason out of his thoughts. He looks at you and sees that you’re radiating, no, buzzing in excitement when you spot the sign that says, ‘dog park. “Here, Milo!”

You step inside the fenced area, and the puppy is more than eager to explore the new territory. Unclasping the leash from his collar, you give him a kiss on his snout before he runs to the pack of dogs—some big, some small.

He sees your caution that borders on uneasiness, watching if the dogs are friendly to him or not. 

“He’s adorable,” he says to break the tension, watching him play with his friends.

The worry on your face is lessened as you look at him. “Well, they do say that pets look like their owners.”

“Mmm, I see it,” he hums, pulling you closer by the chin and giving you a peck on the lips.

 “You really think so?” You bury yourself to his side. Your skin is an awful lot colder than his. He supposes, though, that it's just his body. That it simply overheats.

“Mhm.” He nods, pulling you impossibly closer to him with your head tucked right under his chin.

“Aw, thank you.”  The two of you stand like that for a few minutes.

Jason thinks it's sweet. He feels a foreign tenderness that’s only known to you. He’s learned to like it.

This feeling brings him close enough for him to imagine a family with you. The two of you are parents, and Milo is a son—your son. 

Too soon? His eye twitches as he sweeps the dream under the rug.

“Jay, look!” You grinned, pointing to Milo and some other dogs.

He’s surrounded by a pack of dogs, but they are clearly far from fighting. He definitely is an outgoing pet, something he probably got from you—or would get if-, yeah.

“I’m glad he’s getting along well. For a second, I was worried that the dogs would be hostile towards him.” 

“I don’t any man or dog could be angry at him. He’s too cute to be mad at.”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “I totally agree.”

Jason is sitting by your kitchen island figuring out a jigsaw puzzle you got him when he hears you giggle uncontrollably.

“Milo, Miiiilooo,” You cooed, cuddling the puppy closer and closer to your face. He licks your face, teeth faintly grazing the tip of your nose. You’re only giddy about it. “I love you.”

It’s right then and there, after that interaction, where everything clicks: Jason realizes he does not want, or rather cannot, be with anyone else.

Ever so gentle and ever so kind, you are. It only shines through with how much heart you can and do pour into this puppy. No matter how many shoes he tears through, the rolls of tissues he makes a mess out of, and the times he’s chewed through your hair, it seems that your love is always bountiful and dedicated.

He realized how shallow this sounds. Maybe it’s just the way he was raised. To be grateful for any semblance of gift you had.

“Darling,” he calls out.

“Yes?” You answer, lying on the floor while petting Milo.

“I love you.”

Jason thinks that he wants to be more than welcoming to the small creature. Getting a dog might be a good idea.

Certainly, you seem confused, and he’s almost scared that you’ll reject it. He knows that that won’t be the case (or, at least, he listens to you tell him that).

“I love you too, Jay-love,” you smile.

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 1

An Eddie Munson story.

Warnings: female reader, angst, reader injured, Eddie being an idiot, memory loss.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that the relationship between him and Chrissy wouldn’t last forever. They were two very different people that wanted different things in life.

Chrissy wanted to graduate with high honors and go to college and then get married and have a white picket fence life with children and a dog.

Eddie was on his third try to graduate high school and he had no clue what he was going to do with his life after that. He had his band but he didn’t think they would ever make it out of the garage era, playing at a bar for only five drunks every week.

But Chrissy was really pretty, and unlike every other popular person, she was also sweet and not ashamed to be seen with him. Why not have a good time while it lasted?

He had to admit, he hadn’t paid as much attention to his best friend, Y/N since he and Chrissy started dating, after that first time Chrissy bought weed from him and they started joking and having fun.

Eddie reckoned that it was okay. He had known and spent time with Y/N most of his life – it couldn’t be that bad if he spent a couple of weeks or months with Chrissy.

Did he notice that Y/N was hurt when he turned down her suggestions of movie nights, going out for a burger or planning the next campaign? Yes.

But he figured it was alright. It wouldn’t last forever.

For him and Y/N there would be more time. For him and Chrissy, it was limited.

You wanted to be happy for Eddie when he and Chrissy started dating. And in a way you were. That Chrissy, such a popular and smart girl saw Eddie as he really was, rather than what everyone thought him to be. She didn’t judge him.

But you would be lying if you didn’t say you were jealous.

You had been in love with Eddie since middle school, when he and his band played at that talent show.

You two hadn’t become friends until high school, though, when you came over and asked if you could join Hellfire club.

Up until then you had mostly hung out with the band nerds and Robin, because your parents really wanted you to learn some kind of instrument.

You had tried to play the violin but you hated it, so when you quit you felt like you needed a new hobby and with Eddie running the DnD club, it was a given.

You had never told Eddie how much you loved him, though. He didn’t feel the same way, you knew that. You were just his best friend.

There had been other girls that he had hooked up with but it never lasted. Not like this.

And when he kept blowing you off you wondered if you were about to lose him forever?

That’s what led you to going over to his place one time when Chrissy had cheer practice. You knew Eddie rarely came to cheer practice because he didn’t like the way the jocks yelled at Chrissy, calling her a traitor and a devil’s tramp and whatnot.

Eddie opened the door himself, in sweatpants and an old Dio shirt, hair all tousled. You suspected he’d been relaxing with a joint.

”Y/N! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Eddie wondered, smiling at you.

The nickname felt like a knife to the heart. Even more when he asked what you were doing at his place, as if you coming over had become some strange event all of a sudden.

And to be fair, lately it had.

”I need to talk to you,” you replied. ”Are you going to let me in, or should we talk here on the porch?”

You hadn’t meant to sound so snappy but you were nervous and his reaction to you didn’t help.

Eddie’s grin disappeared and he stepped aside so you could come through the door, a frown now on his face.

”What’s wrong?” he wondered as you two walked into his room.

You sighed, your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep yourself together, if not mentally, at least physically.

Eddie started to look worried, clearly thinking you were about to say something horrible had happened.

You sighed.

”Eddie... I... I miss you.”

Eddie seemed surprised. ”You miss me? That’s what we need to talk about? We see each other all the time, sweetheart!”

”Do we?” you challenged. ”The only one you seem to hang out with these days is Chrissy. I... I get it that you and her... but it feels like we’re not even friends anymore!”

Eddie smiled. ”Of course we’re still friends, Y/N. But me and Chrissy... it’s going so well and she’s so sweet. You know how it is, in the beginning, when you’ve just started dating right?”

You shook your head. ”No. I don’t,” you said, looking down on your feet.

Eddie’s face fell. ”Well, maybe if you got out there and tried dating someone and have a little fun you would know. Why don’t you try it? You might be surprised.”

”There’s no one else I want,” you mumbled and Eddie rolled his eyes.

”Look, Y/N, Chrissy is my girlfriend now, and girlfriends... well, I’m sorry but they should come first, shouldn’t they?”

”We’ve been best friends for years, you’ve known Chrissy for what? Two months? I’m not saying you can’t have a girlfriend, I just...”

”Wait, wait...” Eddie said, frowning,”what do you mean there’s no one else you want?”

You blushed. ”Nothing, it was nothing.”

”So you do have feelings for someone? Why don’t you try asking them out?”

You felt your frustration throb inside your head and groaned. ”That won’t work.”

”Why not?”

”Because it’s you, you idiot!” you screamed, tears rising in your eyes.

Eddie stared at you like you had grown a second head. ”Me?”

”Yes! I... I’ve been in love with you ever since middle school, Eddie...”

”Since middle school?!”

”Yes.”

For a moment there was nothing but silence between you two, except an occasional sniffle from you.

”Why are you telling me this now?” Eddie said, his voice monotone.

”I... I didn’t mean to, I just... I miss you so much and I feel really hurt that you can just... quit me, like I mean nothing! Even if you don’t feel the same...”

”You’re damn right I don’t feel the same!” Eddie exclaimed. ”Why the hell are you telling me this now, when I’m already dating someone? If you wanted to spend more time with me, that’s the last thing you should have done! Now you’ve ruined everything!”

You gasped. ”What?”

”Yeah! How do you think Chrissy will feel about this? I definitely can’t hang out with you now, knowing you have feelings for me. She’s going to freak out.”

He was worried about how Chrissy would react?

”Well... then I suppose it will end here,” you whispered, your voice broken. ”You know me, Eddie, you know I would’ve never cross any boundaries if you weren’t okay with it. But clearly I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought. What was I – a distraction until something better came along?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. ”Of course not! I only meant... Chrissy is my girlfriend! She won’t be happy that I hang out with someone that has feelings for me. Would you if the roles were reversed?”

”I think you made it quite clear that that would never happen,” you said, wiping your eyes. ”It doesn’t matter. I can’t help my feelings and you can’t help yours. But... I need some distance, Eddie. I guess that works out good for you, protecting Chrissy’s feelings.”

Now Eddie was starting to look worried again. It was clear that even though he didn’t feel the same about you as you did him, he hadn’t expected that it might end your friendship.

”You want to punish me for not being in love with you? I can’t control something like that.”

You immediately got angry. ”Is that what you think of me? No! But you said it yourself – you can’t hang out with me now because you know I have feelings for you. And you pick Chrissy,” you told him, not being able to hold back the bitterness in your voice.

”It’s not about picking! You’re still my best friend, but Chrissy...”

”I can’t just forget that I’m in love with you,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. ”However much I wish I could.”

”Yeah, I wish you could too,” Eddie said, realizing too late how cruel he sounded. ”I wish this conversation never happened. What good did it do that you told me this?”

 As if he wanted to twist the dagger in your heart even more. You inhaled sharply but didn’t reply.

You made a silent wish when you turned around and walked out of the door of his trailer.

I wish I could forget everything about you, Eddie Munson. It would make it so much easier.  

You immediately drove to Family Video, knowing that both Robin and Steve was working today. As you walked inside Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

”Y/N! What happened?” she wondered as she grabbed your arm and pulled you behind the counter.

You told her and Steve everything, knowing you could trust them.

Robin pulled you in for a hug and Steve muttered something about kicking Eddie’s ass, which made you laugh.

”Steve, don’t be silly. I mean... he’s right. He can’t help how he’s feeling. He likes Chrissy, he doesn’t like me like that. I can accept that – no one can control their feelings. It’s the way he’s acted toward me until now. I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to hang out with me knowing I’m in love with him, because it would make it awkward for Chrissy.

”Maybe. But he was still insenstive toward you,” Steve said, shaking his head. ”Nothing should get in the way of friendship.”

”Yes. But... I can’t deny that he has a point. I would probably be uncomfortable if the roles were reversed, like he said,” you admitted.

Steve still thought Eddie had been a jerk to you. Especially since Eddie had told Steve that he knew that this thing with Chrissy might only last until she left for college. That Eddie was willing to throw away a friendship for something that was just temporary... that was such a mean thing to do.

”I’m just going to go home, lick my wounds and...”

”... have lots of chocolate!” Robin interrupted. ”Take whatever you need, on the house. You want me to come over after I’m done here?”

”No, thank you, I want to be alone. But I’d love some chocolate and slasher movies. Then I can watch someone else get fucked up instead of me,” you half-joked.

Less than ten minutes later you left Family Video, stocked with ice cream, chocolate bars and a couple of movies in your arms that you put into the backseat, before starting your car and driving towards home.

You thought once again about Eddie. You knew your feelings for him wouldn’t disappear – it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried that before.

Maybe you two would never be the same again. And you would have to live with that pain, while he cozied up to Chrissy. The girl that hadn’t said ’iota’ when her ex boyfriend tormented Eddie, tormented you and the rest of the gang.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see the little girl cross the road until it was almost too late.

With a yelp you sharply turned the wheel, just noticing the blue little blossoms she was dropping onto the road before a large tree appeared in front of you.

As a large crash rumbled into your ears, the windowshield turning into a web of cracks and your head hitting the steering wheel with a force that made it feel like your skull exploded, you swore you could hear a small little voice chiming ”he loves me, he loves me not.”

Was it the little girl?

Then everything went black.

Eddie was still at home, waiting for Chrissy to call him after practice, thinking about what had happened with Y/N.

That she’d had feelings for him, so long. How could he not have noticed? The two of them were best friends after all!

When he remembered how her face had fallen and how she told him that she would keep a distance... it made his heart ache. Y/N had been a constant in his life for so many years. It was hard to imagine a life without her.

But Chrissy was his girlfriend now. A girlfriend had to come first! Right?

A girlfriend he hadn’t even bother planning a future with because he knew there wasn’t one...

He tried to imagine his life without Chrissy. If he had to be honest with himself… it didn’t feel quite as sad as he thought it would – because  it wouldn’t make much of a difference from how he had lived until now.

Then he tried to imagine a life without Y/N.

That. That hurt. It felt like someone had punched him in the ribs.

That’s when the phone rang. And it wasn’t Chrissy.

Eddie stormed into the hospital, seeing the children, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan in the waiting room.

”How is she?” he breathed out.

”What are you doing here? Won’t your girlfriend feel ’awkward’?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

Eddie froze in his steps, staring at Steve.

Robin patted Steve’s arm. ”Not now, Steve,” she said, glancing over to the younger teenagers.

Dustin, whom had been the one to call Eddie, looked up at him. ”A little girl walked out into the road and Y/N swerved to avoid hitting her, but she ended up crashing into a tree instead.”

”And?” Eddie wondered, breathing fast as he imagined Y/N’s car crashing into a tree, how scared she must have been.

”We don’t know. She’s hit head pretty badly on the steering wheel and has some cuts from the glass. She was unconscious when they brought her in with the ambulance,” Dustin continued. ”We don’t know if she got any other injuries, right now we’re just... waiting.”

Eddie nodded and sat down. Steve was pacing back and forth in the waiting room and when he was beside Eddie, turning around for the fifteenth time he spat: ”You sure you want to wait here with us? What about Chrissy? Don’t want to keep her waiting, right?”

Eddie glared at Steve. ”Y/N’s my best friend, of course I want to be here.”

”Really?” Steve questioned, tapping his chin. ”Your best friend? No, that doesn’t sound right. Not when Y/N herself told me that you picked Chrissy over her and that she had, ’ruined everything’.”

Eddie paled, realizing that Steve knew what had happened. What he had done. ”That’s... I didn’t mean... ”

”Enough, you two,” Dustin said, but with the way he looked at Eddie, Eddie once again felt like someone had punched him in the ribs. ”Y/N is going to want all of us here when she wakes up. We’re here for her, so quit your dick measuring contest!”

Both Eddie and Steve’s eyes widened as they stared at Dustin cursing them out before it got quiet again.

Eddie didn’t fail to notice though, that while the others spoke among each other, no one spoke to him.

It felt like they had been waiting for years when Y/N’s mother finally came out into the waiting room to talk to them all.

”Y/N... she’s most likely going to be fine. The seat belt broke a couple of ribs as well as the force of the crash, which punctured a lung, but they have repaired it now. She’s also gotten a pretty hard knock to the head when she hit the tree. I know you’re all eager to see her, and I understand that, but she’s very tired from them repairing the lung and pain medication. She needs to rest. But I will tell her you are all thinking about her.”

The others sighed, but nodded and got up. Robin gave Y/N’s mother a hug and Nancy spoke kindly to her, telling her especially what she wanted Y/N  to know.

Eddie seemed to be the only one that noticed something was off. He knew Y/N’s mother well and he could tell that she was holding something back. So he pretended like he was going to the vending machine to get a snack when the others trooped out.

Then he stayed in the waiting room, until finally, an hour later, Y/N’s mother went outside again, seemingly going to get a cup of coffee.

Then Eddie quickly snuck into Y/N’s room.

The first he felt was relief. She was lying back against the pillow, the whole right side of her face purple and blue from the hit and an oxygen tube in her nose, probably to help the injured lung. A few cuts on her forehead but not deep enough that she’d needed stitches.

She was even awake, looking out the window with tired eyes. He had been terrified she’d been in a coma.

”Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed and saw how she jerked, grimacing from the pain, which made him feel bad for scaring her, and then she turned her gaze towards him. ”Sweetheart! I’m so sorry... when I heard... you can’t imagine how that...”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she shied away as if she was afraid of him and Eddie frowned, taking a step closer, ”Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you angry with me? I understand that, but...” Y/N looked into his eyes, asking in a monotone voice: ”I’m sorry... do... do I know you?”

Eddie frowned, not understanding. For a moment he thought Y/N was joking with him, but the expression in her eyes... confusion, fear... not a hint of recollection.

He heard the door open behind him and Y/N’s mother gasp. ”Eddie! I told you...”

Y/N’s mother hurried over to Y/N’s bed, taking her hand. ”I’m sorry, dear. This... this is Eddie,” she told Y/N, her voice calm as if she was comforting a scared child.

”Do I know him?” Y/N wondered, voice small and trembling. “I… I don’t… remember?”

That’s when Eddie understood.

The hit to Y/N’s head had affected her memory. She didn’t know who he was.

taglist: @ali-r3n @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god

@rainybloo28 @megatronmunson @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn @melodymunson

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle

[martian-astro]

Solar return observations- Part 4

(the panda in the back is me)

Aries ascendant is a very strong indicator of getting into sports that year, and I don't mean gym, I mean sports. (the year I had this, I started fencing and muay Thai, one of my friend had this in 2022 and she joined a basketball club)

So I have moon in pisces in 1st this year, and sometimes things get really overwhelming and swimming helps a lot. Just trust me on this one, if you have moon in cancer, pisces or scorpio, go for a swim.

I just saw that the year my sister got a dog, she had saturn in 6th house, it shows that you'll have to be responsible for an animal, may adopt a pet, and she had to take the dog on walks so even her health got a lot better.

Mars conjunct or in the same house as Venus Is another placement that I've been seeing in a lot of solar return charts this year. (the house that it's in tells you the area in which you are very passionate and loving, my sister has this in her 10th this year, and she's very focused on her career and is spending a lot of time in making a good portfolio)

Moon in 8th is a really good placement if you wanna pursue a career as a Psychologist, researcher, detective, etc. (if you've been studying it, and are looking for a job then you're more likely to get hired)

Uranus in 2nd is a strong sign of starting to earn money unconventionally, my tarot reader friends all had this placement the year they started doing paid readings and tarot/astrology is not really considered to be a good career, so kind of taboo.

Jupiter in 5th is a good year to invest in the stock market (Jupiter shouldn't be in retrograde), one of my mother's friend had it this year and she gained a lot of money. (Just because you have it doesn't mean you should be irresponsible with your money, be smart)

Sun in 3rd is a good year to participate in clubs and if there's a leadership position open in school, college, or workplace, then sign up for it, and don't hesitate to express your opinions, if you're in college/school, then speak up in class, share your thoughts with your classmates, you won't regret it

Pluto in 8th is a painful placement, one of my very close friend has it this year and.... She's going through it. (She is unable to focus in class, her roommate is unhygienic, her boyfriend stole €600 from her and ran away, her parents asked her for her savings so they could keep it safe, she had €11,000 and they spent it all to send her brother to Canada.... Yeah) if you have this, I'm sorry, just take this 🫂, and DON'T TRUST ANYONE when you have it in your SR

Moon conjunct saturn can be the year when you become more mature, you learn how to control your emotions and deal with your problems like an adult. Many people start a new phase of their life when they have it, like moving out of your house, starting to live alone, earning money, entering the workforce, getting married and other life changing things can happen that year

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[byelacey]

so you want to keep a great pyrenees as a pet

recently a little comic i made did big numbers on here and i keep seeing tags like "gotta get me a great pyrenees" and like AWESOME there are SO MANY of these big boys looking for adoption, especially in the US but i feel like as a person who got a pyr as their first dog (because i'm insane) there are some things you need to know - they BARK. all day and all night. they've been bred for barking. this is not bond spyxfamily borfing this is LOUD and CONSTANT. barking is their job. working pyrs protect their livestock by looking intimidating, bluff charging and barking very loud. they're also often naturally nocturnal, which means a lot of their barking is done at night. if you're the type who doesn't enjoy loud noises for most hours of the day, reconsider keeping a great pyr as a pet - they are LARGE. they are large when they are hormonal, idiot puppies. their bodies grow VERY FAST but their brain takes 2-3 years to catch up and during that time you've got a 75-150lb puppy on your hands. everything is more expensive because your dog is big, too. beds, accessories, food, vet stuff, medication, grooming, *everything is more expensive* for big dogs. get yourself some pet insurance. you'll thank yourself later. - they're sensitive creatures who form strong bonds with their flock. if you're keeping one as a pet: congratulations, you're now this dog's flock. separation anxiety is huge. they're meant to be guarding their flock, and if you go off without them, they're gonna worry about you. they also don't take well to you shouting at them for doing their job (barking very loud at wayward leaves). i'm serious. they're so so sensitive. - they're extremely smart and independent, which reads as stubbornness to us. they think they know better because they've been bred to work on their own, without humans around to tell them what to do. they're gonna pick up commands really fast, but they do shit on their own time. and recall? forget it. "an off-leash pyr is a dissa-pyr", as the saying goes. this is not a dog you'll be able to have off-leash, as he's gonna do and go wherever he damn well pleases - THAT BEING SAID as they are a large breed dog (extra large, actually), training is extremely important. small untrained dogs can get away with a lot more than a large dog. some people are afraid of dogs. you need to teach your pyr early and often what isn't a threat to you so they aren't causing trouble with their guardian shenanigans - they shed. they drool. they're large, double-coated dogs with big jowls. i have cleaned drool off of every surface of my house, including the ceiling. they blow their coat twice a year and also shed undercoat all of the time. i brush mac once a week during regular season and every other day when he's blowing his coat so that his coat stays healthy and doesn't become impacted or matted. - EDIT: someone just tagged this with a great point as well. you need a lot of space for a pyr! a fenced backyard, at least, with a fence tall enough they can't easily climb over (6ft preferably). they aren't high energy dogs but they do get a lot out of being able to roam around and patrol their yard. they are not apartment dogs (unless you walk them a lot, and you hate your neighbours) admittedly my fenced backyard isn't huge, but mac gets around 2-2.5 hours of walking per day, split between a morning & afternoon walk. they need the mental stimulation of walking around and sniffing stuff! if i haven't scared you off yet, owning a great pyr as a pet is a difficult, but rewarding experience. try and find a breed-specific shelter, there are many, because unfortunately these dogs are overbred in the US (either on purpose or by accident), and they're also often surrendered as puppies because people didn't know what they were getting into. a shelter will also take your lifestyle into consideration when pairing you up with a dog, because they want to find permanent homes for these guys.

anyway i think that's it. and if you have a pyr i am wishing you a very (show me your dog)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Man's Best Friend - Daryl Dixon X Fem Reader

Title: Man's Best Friend

Daryl Dixon X Fem Reader

Additional Characters: Dog

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 1,700

Warnings: Mentions of walkers/zombies, Reader is afraid of dogs, teasing, banter, flirting, nicknames, soft Daryl, soft Dog lol, very brief mentions of anxiety attacks, mini angst, and fluff

Ever since you were a young child, way before the apocalypse broke out, you had always been afraid of dogs. Big or small, they all scared you. You didn't know exactly why you were afraid of them, maybe because you weren't really used to being near them as a kid, or even as an adult. Or maybe it was because a large Golden Retriever had once jumped up into your stroller when you were little, or at least, that was what your mother had told you had happened. You had no memory of it, nor when you started actually fearing man's best friend. 

Now, being afraid of them didn't technically mean that you hated them. Quite the contrary, you adored all animals, dogs included. You liked looking at them, petting them if you dared to do so and trusted or knew the owner. It all depended on the situation and, or course, the dog.

But it was difficult growing up. All around your neighborhood, a lot of people owned dogs. And though they were behind large fences most of the time, that didn't stop you from flinching every time they ran up to the fence, jumped, or barked - anything they did really, scared and stressed you out. 

You wished that you could not be afraid of them. You wished that you could be like others and see a dog without feeling the overwhelming and searing anxiety that coursed through your viens; chilling you to the bone as your eyes widened and your throat tightened - your whole body becoming frozen in fear.

Now, in the apocalypse, there weren't many animals, but you knew you'd eventually have a run-in with a dog at some point. They were smart and resilient creatures, that could easily outrun a walker or two. And you did. After traveling with Daryl for years, switching from group to group, losing loved ones and friends… You met Dog. Such a fitting name...

Dog was very cute, you'd give him that. He was a big, fluffy, soft-looking dog. He was seemingly friendly around the people he liked and was pretty vicious when attacking those trying to hurt the group or Daryl for that matter. 

For the months that Daryl had Dog, you had never pet him, or much if anything. You tried to stay as far away from him as possible when you could. But it was kind of hard when he was so close to Daryl. Thankfully, Daryl being the sweetest boyfriend in the world - and not wanting dog hair in the bed - wouldn't let Dog sleep in your shared bed. So that was nice. 

You did care for the dog though. You thought he was cute when he stared up at Daryl with those puppy eyes, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, panting slightly. He was cute. 

You'd even talk to him sometimes, using a baby-like voice when doing so if you pleased. You loved how happy he seemed to get, wagging his tail. 

Daryl on the other hand, noticed your apparent discomfort around Dog a long while ago - though it had lessened a bit over the years. It was still a bit obvious. He'd see you flinch if Dog came running up to see you to greet you or when you heard Dog bark. 

So he did his best to help you, often going on supply runs with you on one side of him and Dog on the other; blocking you from each other. He'd distract Dog with food or a random toy - stick, rag, rope, etcetera - so he could spend a bit more time with you. And he'd lock Dog out of the bedroom, making sure to set up a bed for him somewhere else in the home, so that you could have a worry-free sleep. 

Though he knew of your fear of dogs, he wanted to make sure you knew that Dog would never harm you. 

Laying on the couch, Dog laid on top of Daryl as the man brushed his hand through his thick fur. Dog laid happily, content at the affection and attention, and so was Daryl, but he was missing you. 

And you were only a couple of feet away.

Sitting on a chair, you quietly read a book, legs up on the red, plush cushion as you usually did in the presence of Dog. Subconsciously, you always pulled your legs up in front of the animal, your brain worried that, even though you knew Dog wouldn't do such a thing, that Dog wouldn't attack or jump up on you. 

Daryl watched as you read, unable to break his gaze away from you. Your face looked peaceful as your fingers lightly traced the pages of the book as you read, a content smile playing on your lips as you did so. He felt something tug at his heart as he admired you, the light from the window behind you illuminating your face softly. His eyes followed your form as you shuffled in your seat in the armchair, gently pushing your hair back behind your ears with the movement.

You were still reading, oblivious to Daryl's gaze. As said before, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You looked stunning in your simple band t-shirt and pj bottoms, your face clean of dirt and grime, freckles dusting your cheekbones as you licked your lips with the tip of your tongue. Your eyes were soft as they moved across the page, narrowing slightly when you turned to the next, brows furrowing as you continued. Must have been a good book, Daryl had thought.

"You're staring, D," Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you put your book down on your lap and shifted your position, stretching your arms above your head. Daryl averted his gaze, cheeks flushing a bit as you looked over at him. "What is it?"

Daryl grumbled slightly, turning his gaze to Dog, rubbing the dog's head, "Nothin', jus'... Ya look nice today." He answered softly, albeit a bit gruffly. 

Your smile grew, your cheeks warming, "Daryl..." You trailed off with a sigh, "You're too sweet." The hunter flushed again, ducking his head to hide his face with his hair. "You look handsome today too." You added, making Daryl huff, shaking his head. Biting your lip briefly, you moved your thumb in your book to mark your page as you closed it; giving the man all of your attention. "I mean it. You are."

Looking up, Daryl was surprised to find you gazing at him. You flushed lightly under his gaze and his breath caught in his throat as your eyes locked with his brown ones. You were gorgeous. He realized he was just staring, and quickly cleared his throat, "Uh… Thanks, Y/N." You smiled and nodded in response, though it faltered when your eyes glanced over at Dog. Daryl noticed this, seeing how your eyes softened, a certain longing in them as you watched him continue to pet Dog. “Do ya… Wanna pet him?” He then asked, making you blink rapidly.

You cleared your throat, looking back down at your book, “You know I do… I’m just-”

“Scared?” Daryl finished for you, watching as you shifted in your seat again, “He ain’t gonna hurt ya. Ya know that.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip, “I know. Just nervous, cause well, he’s a big dog…”

Standing up, Daryl grunted slightly as he did so. Dog stayed put on the couch, watching as Daryl walked over to your chair. You looked up at him as he offered you his hand, which you glanced at briefly. “C’mon,” He said softly, a very, very small smile on his face. You gulped, taking his hand, your legs feeling a bit numb as he helped you stand. You felt your heart begin to race as he led you to the couch, your eyes unable to stray from Dog’s. “Yer fine,” You heard Daryl say, voice gruff at how low he was speaking, “Ya know him, he’s a good boy.” 

At that, you scoffed out a laugh, seeing Dog’s tail wagging with great speed as he looked up at you. “That’s gotta be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” 

Darly’s small grin widened slightly as he saw your shoulders drop, and your breathing normalized. Daryl stopped before Dog, an arm’s reach away, the dog in question staring up at you with those large puppy dog eyes.

“Alrigh’, reach yer hand out, let him sniff ya.” Daryl spoke, squeezing your hand as you hesitantly raised your free one. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

You held your breath, watching as Dog leaned forward and sniffed your hand, the warmth of his breath fanning over your hand. You quickly shut your eyes at the feeling, turning to nudge your face into Daryl’s shoulder. Your mind began to race with all sorts of different, terrible scenarios, your heart hammering in your chest; breath shallow. 

Until, you felt soft fur. 

You opened your eyes slowly, turning your head to watch as Dog rubbed his head under your hand, his tail wagging at high speeds. You blinked, pushing your head off of Daryl’s shoulder as you watched Dog. You felt a huge wave of relief flow over you, making you smile. With your own volition, you moved your hand, petting Dog’s head softly. He turned into your touch almost instantly, letting out a tiny sound as he pressed against your hand. He licked your fingers gently before licking your palm. 

Your heart ached at how happy this dog made you feel. You didn’t understand it yourself; it wasn’t something you experienced often. It was as if, in that moment, all the stress you were carrying disappeared. The fear and anxiety that had been plaguing you disappeared with him. You could barely breathe as your stomach fluttered.

Leaning your head back on Daryl's shoulder, you sighed as you continued to pet Dog. "Thank you, D." You muttered happily. 

He nodded his head, lightly squeezing your hand in his, "Knew ya could do it, sweetheart."

You smiled again. You could feel your cheeks growing warm, Dog whined softly from where he was now snuggled up against your hand; wanting more attention.

---

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

[nyx-is-missing]

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

[star-stilinski]

(repost of an old deleted fic!)

why aren’t we talking about this dylan HELLOO??? new girl LITERALLY fed us and none of us are looking.

read pt 2 here!

like imagine this is (normal!universe) stiles, senior year, and he chickened out of asking his dream girl (and one of his best friends) to prom. now, he’s sat in the back of the room sulking as you slow dance with some douchebag who’s feeling you up too enthusiastically.

eventually, he ends the miserable night dragging his feet behind scott, who had the brilliant idea of getting a hotel room. his idea was formed, of course, to be apart of some trashy rager a junior was throwing. stiles was only mildly interested. he’d get to see you, but he’d have to do so with that douche attached to your hip, thinking he was gonna get lucky.

he’s not expecting this, though.

you’re sitting outside one of the rooms at the end of the hall. head in your hands, hair down and messier than before.

he had left scott to get some air (and totally not to look for you. what? he got worried).

“…you okay?”

and when you look up at him, his heart skips. your makeup is all smudged and your hair is a bit messy. teary-eyed, trembling lip. 

you’re the most beautiful girl stiles has ever seen.

“I… I don’t know.” you answer, wiping your nose. he approaches softly and hesitates before sitting next to you. you both stare at an odd looking painting on the hallway wall. 

“stiles.” you hum after a long moment. it’s not a question.

“yeah?”

“do boys think I’m ugly?”

his face screws up, confused and a bit appalled. was this a test? you? ugly? “what?”

“do boys think-“

“yeah, I heard you. what makes you think that?” his tone twists on accident, sounding a bit like he was saying ‘are you stupid?’. he silently curses himself as you sniffle.

“jake wanted to… he asked me… he didn’t ask me, but he started to take off my dress,” you explain quietly, “and I didn’t want to. and he told me that I should because most of the lacrosse guys would never give me a chance and I could stay a virgin for a long time if I didn’t sleep with him.”

it kinda word vomits out of you, but it feels better to say it out loud. more like jake was in the wrong and less like he was right. but part of you wondered still.

when you turn back to stiles, it’s because he hasn’t spoken. and you kind of wish you had just kept looking at the sort of ugly painting because the way stiles looks at you…

it’s like you hung the moon.

lips parted, brows upturned. the glint in his brown eyes from the dim yellow light, the way his bow tie hangs off his neck, the way his chest moves to breathe deeper when your eyes meet. his hands twitch closer, like he wants to hold you, but he doesn’t.

“boys don’t think you’re ugly.”

he’s breathless, you realize. his tone is all lost and whisper-like. his face inches closer to yours and you suck in a silent breath.

“jake is probably one of the most obtuse guys on the planet.” his voice picks up into that silly one he uses to cheer you up. you could hear it from a mile away. “you know he’s failing every class except gym? yeah, even econ. and coach likes him. it takes a whole lot of stupid to get to that point.”

you giggle, but it’s still a laugh full of tears as you pinch the skirt of your prom dress.

“I mean, cmon, look at you. did he rub off on you?” stiles pauses. “wrong choice of words, whoops.”

you laugh again, wiping your eyes. it smudges you mascara worse and stiles dawns a crooked smile. he speaks again, with more confidence than he started with.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were. if you’re letting jake get the best of you. seriously.”

stiles lifts his hand to wipe at the mascara, catching a stray tear. his hand leaves your cheek reluctantly after he admires your lips, and he sighs.

“you’re… beautiful. you’re an angel, a princess. you’re what guys dream about when they get sappy and want a picket fence and two dogs and a perfect wife in a sundress. you’re also probably what guys dream about when they want to cum fast.”

your eyes go wide at the last part and stiles wants to bite his tongue off. “I-I just meant, like, the lacrosse guys, they’ve talked about you before… both ways. so you have nothing to-“

“stiles.” you say again, but this time you’re smiling just a bit and stiles thinks he might have just won the lottery ten times and became king of the world.

“mhm?”

“do you think I’m pretty?” and you’re still smiling so you both know what the answer must be.

“you just want me to say it.” he whisperes reluctantly, a pout forming on his lips.

“after the night I’ve had? that would be great.”

“and why would you go make out with another guy and then come out here asking me to confess to you?”

you frown. “maybe you’re the stupid one. I was trying to make you jealous. jake just… didn’t know that.”

stiles looks mildly impressed at that information. “mission accomplished. you know you scare me a little?”

“I know. now is there anything you want to tell me, stilinski?” you scoot closer, smile growing on your face. he laughs, embarrassed, and meets your eyes.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I want nothing more than to kiss you right now and take you to the nearest Denny’s because I’m pretty sure everything else is closed.”

he’s leaning in, now, waiting for you to close the gap.

“I think I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning in. your noses bump and you both laugh breathlessly before he cups your cheek and meets your eyes, leaning in to press the sweetest kiss to your lips.

so maybe I got a little into this. lay off me, alright?? I’m in the trenches.

…i made a part 2! it's just a lil 'what next', but i really enjoyed writing stiles like this. lmk if you'd like to see more from this vibe of him!

[2frosty4you]

Hiii! If reqs are open, can I request for all the mercs finding out teen merc reader grew up with very neglectful parents, and is basically a mother to her younger siblings? The only reason she even took up a job as a mercenary is so she can pay the bills for her little brothers and sisters, since her parents are too busy using their money on drugs:/

Mercs find out teen!reader takes sole care of her siblings [Platonic

| All mercs & GN!Reader Platonic | 826 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request |

Hardest thing about this was actually getting a name for it :cry:

╔═════════════════╗

Scout

✧ He says he relates, but in reality he doesn't. His family was filled with successful boys (fatherless) and his mother who they all loved. He sent his paychecks to her every time.

✧ When you explained that you had to take care of your siblings from a younger age over the campfire he became quiet.

✧ Doesn't make a joke, but the awkward air was getting to him.

"so.. how many siblings ya got?"

✧ He only says this to break the ice

✧ After a while he understands why you're always on calls with people, always away on ceasefire and always take any off days you can get (hardly any)

Soldier

"AN AMERICAN CARETAKER SHOULD NOT INTAKE DRUGS FROM THE FRENCH!!"

✧ He's trying, but not hard enough

✧ He offers you one of his extra helmets and his raccoons. He cares for you like a strange rabid dog you found on the street.

✧ Shares his food with you, gives his loyalty to your brothers and sisters with a goofy salute.

✧ Don’t let him meet your siblings unless you want him to get them to dig a trench around your house

Pyro

".. mph?"

✧ They don't understand why your parents aren't using their own money.

✧ They don't understand a lot of what you explained

✧ They'll begin to offer any candies they have to you, not like they weren't already. Protects you a lot on the battlefield and draws pictures for you and your siblings (mostly balloonicorn) 

✧ Would like to meet your siblings though, they've got plushies to share 100%

Heavy

✧ He pats you on the back and nods, he didn't need to mother/father a group of kids but having no father made his family's life harder.

✧ Teaches you some night hearty meals that could feed a battalion

✧ Also teaches you self defense, even if you know it already it's never enough (heavy tells you that like :nerd: )

✧ Also makes you sit and have some time to yourself, he's your 'father' now. No ifs, buts or whys

Engineer

"pardon."

✧ He says, frying pan in hand as he was cooking breakfast. Staring at you like he was going to kill a set of parents.

✧ Tries to keep you safer on the battlefield, not wanting you to suffer more than your family has done to you.

✧ Teaches you to cook, like heavy 

✧ Cooks breakfast for you first, and when you have a rough time its 100% only you getting proper meal.

✧ Will drive you to your family's house, and stand there like a guard as you let him meet your brothers.

✧ Probably would build little contraptions for them and help tutor them.

✧ Loves you like family, including your siblings (not your parents, not at all)

Demoman

✧ He's drunk when you tell him this, he raises his bottle and spits out

"aye, fuck ya parents"

✧ He passes out immediately

✧ If he's sober when you mention it again he's going to be more caring(slightly) and since hes always at least tipsy he'll offer you his bombs like a drug dealer.

✧ If you say yes he'll blow up them and their crackhouse.

✧ Is on the fence about meeting your siblings, he doesn't really want your brothers seeing a drunk, half-blind Scot stumbling around.

Medic

✧ His eye twitches, a large insane smile on his face as he turns to you while having his elbows deep in the corpse of the enemy heavy.

"Did I mishear you?"

✧ He removes his hands from the corpse and comes over to you shaking you like crazy. Ranting about how a teenager shouldn't be caring for small children and asking if you had symptoms for any mental issues.

✧ He's insane, I'm not gonna sugar coat it.

✧ But he is smart and teaches you how to do some basic first aid

'no medic I'm not going to remove any appendices please stop cutting into scout'

✧ Wants to meet your sisters, offers them to play with his birds and offers up some plushies

'MEDIC DON'T GIVE THEM SYRINGES' 'and PLEASE put away the baboon heart'

Sniper

✧ Asks for you to repeat what you muttered and then offers to 'get rid' of your parents (sniper put down the rifle.. and the jarate)

✧ Drives you back and to your family home, is uncomfortable around small children so he's going to 100% either stay in his truck or be leaning against it the whole time.

✧ Don't worry he didn't bring any jarate with him.. Just don't check the truck (please) 

✧ But if he mentions taking care of birds your siblings demand to see them, so they get along well

Spy

✧ He will assassinate them, won't tell you, but it'll be suspicious when your mother dies from an overdoses while having and obvious bullet hole through her chest

✧ Look, he wasn't a father to scout but he'll be a father for you. Better than your last father at least, and a little better than he was to scout.

✧ Teach your siblings french 100%, you won't know until they start speaking it and you're left dumbfounded.

╚═════════════════╝

Posted 1.03.2024 if you see any typos or anything pls tell me!!

[jettwrites]

poltergeist!art anon again, lovedd what u wrote abt him! sorry I love this au I have too many thoughts...

hmm I was thinking that he may have a human form that he can turn into but he can't really control it fully bc he never really had the need too, since you're the only interesting person to move in (it's always been elderly couples). He looks the same as before he died just kind of off... his skin a little too pale, his eyes more greyish than baby blue, etc.

side note, when he finally gets to fuck you, your tummy glows bc of his phantom cock <3 (going insane w this thought).

and idk If this sounds mean but art soo looks like he would drown in a pool ☠️

anon never be sorry i am currently rotting over this au so you are just my supplier. SORRY THIS TOO ME SO LONG BTW!! totally lost motivation for writing in general, but now i’m working through my inbox!! feel free to send me any thirsts or asks 💗

but OMFG him drowning is so smart. it explains why his lips are tinted a bleak blue and the temperature of his oddly pale skin is unreasonably frisk. he’s trapped in the vicinity of the old creaky house due to drowning in the pool out back — enclosed by invisible fences. if he dares to travel past the barrier, he’s immediately brought right back to the place where he lost his life.

he’s been trapped there for decades, growing even more bored with each new tenant. he quite literally gets enjoyment out of watching the walls deteriorate, floral wallpaper warping into something grotesque. normally, ghosts are supposed to get a kick out of tormenting and scaring the life out of whoever crosses their pass. however, this is not the case for art. the boy prefers to keep himself invisible and would rather not have to bear the panicked shrieking from an elderly couple at the sight of his decaying drowned corpse. doesn’t even want them to see his previous living form — afraid of them running away, leaving him with only his own company once more. instead, he opts to stay completely hidden.

when you walk in — all giddy and excited to finally be living on your own — something sparks inside him. a strange sensation he hasn’t felt in he can’t even remembe how long. maybe it’s your hopeful eyes or the way you carry yourself. the way you dress, or your naive mind. it causes him to constantly keeps a watchful of you. spectates your day-to-day schedule and stalks the douchey men you bring home. the ones you let defile you. he watches you undress by lurking in the corner of your room, lacey panties, and matching bra ending up in a pile by his feet. he finds himself stroking his heavy leaking cock over your body countless times, fisting the length in a tight vice-like grip. imagines pumping you deep with a feeling he hasn’t felt in ages — love — stuffing you full to watch the bulge that forms around your pelvis. poking from the inside with each thrust in and out, in and out, in and out. wishing to one day see the way your belly glows due to being pounded by his phantom cock, tucking his luminescent seed inside your tight cunt that milks him ever so lovingly.

it’s sick and twisted the way he thinks of you. the way he protects you like a guard dog. the way he watches your every move like a hawk. the way he lightly runs a heavy thumb over your plush bottom lip while you sleep. how he glides over your teeth and pushes into your mouth. it’s crude — but he just can’t help himself, having been deprived of this feeling for soo long :((

[jimblejamblewritings]

An Observation of Humankind [thinkpiece number: 1]

Every girlie (nonbinary, women and men of all orientations included) is a type of Marauder and their partners are marauder love interest — fandom version included.

James Girlies:

either like sports or play sports, especially soccer/football or rugby

bad eyesight

defends everyone

himbo and ditzy but we love them for that

fanfiction reader/sharer

have had several short-term but very intense crushes

surprisingly not always high school sweethearts (which yeah odd cause of Lily)

nature bros

calls their journal a diary with no shame

are always outside and can't sit their ass at home for too long

love bouquets

own at least one pair of converse

loves pop music and Hozier

have scaled a fence before

might be able to play the guitar

handwriting could be nicer if they tried

didn't get their drivers' license right away

take their coffee any way that isn't straight black coffee

definitely think all people are hot even if they don't swing that way (think lesbians love Thor)

loved Merlin the tv show

James Girlies love Regulus and Lily people, which means:

cold people, smart people, black cat people, painters, polite people, readers, homebody people, gothic people, hippie people, people with beautiful handwriting, black coffee drinkers, whisky lovers

Sirius Girlies:

dog people and cat people equally

doc martens

loves coffee and tea equally

fanfiction writer/reader

gorgeous handwriting, probably cursive

might know or has had an interest in calligraphy

an astrology and/or astronomy girl

speaks at least two languages

plays an instrument, any instrument... but their parents definitely suggested piano

leather jackets

denim jackets

wears way less black than people think

fantasy nerd and has played dungeons and dragons

was a superwholockian

usually the only child or older child

doesn't smoke but everyone thinks they might

cocktails or whiskey and beer, no in between

virgin till like freshman year of college or later, to everyone's shock

looks like a black cat but is actually a golden retriever

however they could kill you don't get it twisted

has trauma but won't trauma bond

crooked smile and not perfect teeth but gorgeous anyway

perfect hair that is deliberately messed with

motorcycles and vespas and small cars

listens to every genre of music

tattoos (even if just one small one)

journal person

can quote certain movies by heart

unfortunately turned on by sweater vests

fashion girlie

Sirius Girlies love Marlene, Remus, and other Sirius people, which means:

warm people, confident people, tall people, flirty people, musicians, readers, intellectual people, fancy people

Remus Girlies:

sweets lover

probably likes dark chocolate the most as well as hot chocolate

owns sweaters, probably vintage, some handmade by their Sirius girlies

plays chess

can draw

mismatched socks

waits till the last minute to do laundry

is more of a cat person but also loves dogs

didn't have strict parents and ended up giving themselves curfews and discipline and only late realized the reverse psychology

keeps a notebook about everything their partner likes

messy cook in the kitchen

loves tea a bit over coffee

is probably the actual smoker of the group

doesn't make their bed

good kissers

always carries a jacket or wears a shirt under their sweater so they can give it to their partner

can hold their liquor a bit too well perhaps

has trauma and might trauma bond

great fashion sense but will wear literally whatever is clean

Remus Girlies love Sirius, Pandora, and Dorcas (hear me out) people, which means:

black cat looks and golden retriever personality, weird people, people that pour their pain and emotions into their art whether music or painting or drawing, people that take time to care for themselves in the morning, witchy people, smiley people

Peter Girlies (pretend there was no betrayal):

underestimated

asks the most off-putting questions without realizing it

takes a camera everywhere

loves board games

tea drinker all day every day

baker

sends selfies at literally any angle because they don't care

always pays attention to everyone

loves breakfast food eaten not at breakfast

had a ukelele phase

cleanest of their friend group

Peter Girlies love Mary people, which means:

sunshine people, almost always happy, excitable people, pda lovers, carefree topeople